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f1crecs · 2 months

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Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs

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On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!

'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'

nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!

'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'

all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!

'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'

Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!

When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation. For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.

'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'

glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.

'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'

no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!

'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'

nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!

'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'

Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.

'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'

nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.

'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'

nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.

“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”

mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.

'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'

thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝

#lestappen #pairing:charles/max #driver:charles #driver:max #trope:au

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noosayog · 10 months

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[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa. angst.

wc: 1.8k

part 2. directory here.

“Father! I cannot get married to a man I have never met!”

“My daughter, it should be an honor to use your union as a means to strengthen our ties with foreign kingdoms,” he says sternly.

“Father!”

“Enough!” your father bellows, startling you and everyone else in the throne room. “I have been lenient through your adolescence, allowing you to take your studies at your leisure and overlooking your improper frolicking with the knights. It is time for you to fulfill your duties as a member of the royal family.” His tone leaves no room for discussion.

You desperately look at Hajime who astutely keeps his gaze forward, staring at both nothing and everything but you. Eyes watering, you try one last time. “Dad, please,” you whisper.

“You will meet your betrothed at the ball tomorrow and are dismissed to stay in your chambers until then.”

~•~

As you stumble out of the throne room in tears, Hajime follows three steps behind as he always does within the castle. Prim and proper. The two of you silently walk to your room where he watches you enter and he motions to close the door and stand guard outside.

Not wanting to be alone, you tug at his arm and plead with your gaze. He allows you to pull him into your bedroom where you collapse onto the ground by your bed.

“How could he do this to me?” you sob. “Hajime, I cannot marry.”

He’s silent for a spell; you think he is thinking of the right words to console you. However, instead of reassurance, he says, “as the king says, it is your duty, your Highness.”

You look at him with wide watery eyes, in disbelief that he does not offer you even compassion for your distressed state. His gaze is fixed straight ahead as he continues his rigid posture, like the good knight he is.

Yet, somehow, this, too, is expected. After all, within the order of knights, it has always been Hajjime to understand responsibility and obligation. But this is marriage. The rest of your life.

Your voice shakes when you ask him, “Hajime, do you really mean that you want me to marry another man?”

You watch as Hajime clenches his jaw and however minimal the movement is, you are pleased that he is not unaffected. However, his words stand firm. “It is your duty.”

You grasp at his hand, but Hajime remains standing, neither approaching nor backing away. He only stands still where you left him, like he is a puppet who only moves when you command him.

“Hajime, please,” you beg.

He does not say anything.

“Please tell me how you truly feel. Truthfully, you cannot wish for me to marry someone I do not know.”

“My wishes do not matter, Princess.”

“They matter to me!”

He finally looks at you, getting on one knee to meet your eyes. “Princess,” he starts. “You do not know this man, so how do you know he cannot bring you happiness?” His voice is quiet, like he is consoling a child throwing a tantrum. “You have the engagement period to get to know the foreign prince. I will be with you the whole way, as I always am and always will be.”

Despite his gentleness, this is not what you had wanted to hear. You shake his arm off, staring belligerently into his eyes with renewed fire.

“So what! Father expects me to marry; this engagement is hardly a comfort. Hajime,” you take a deep breath. “You cannot be ignorant to the feelings I harbor for you. Please, please, Hajime. I know you do not see me as just a member of the royal family you protect. Tell me what you truly feel. I would run away with you today if you tell me.” you plead, curling your fingers around his armored arm.

After a long moment, Hajime puts his hand on yours curled into his garments and untwists your fingers from them, prying them off, and placing them back on your lap, a befitting posture for the proper princess your father expects of you.

“Your Highness,” he starts, speaking slowly. “This could be considered treason. Please take some time to calm down.” He stands and steps away, bending at the hips into a respectful bow. “I will be standing guard outside should you need anything.”

With that, Hajime retreats to the halls, leaving you to collapse completely into the carpet and sob the rest of your beating heart out.

~•~

Morning arrives with beaming sunlight but no comfort. As you stare at your reflection in the pool of water the maids have brought in to wash your face, your red, swollen eyes are telltale to the events of last night. Pushing the basin away, you flop back into bed, hoping that closing your eyes and feigning sickness will somehow weasel your way out of tonight’s ball and the meeting of your fiance.

However, the efforts are in vain as maids that you do not recognize file into your chambers and drag you by the limbs to the bath, effectively tossing you into the steaming, floral-scented water and scrubbing you down while others massage ice cubes under your eyes.

“Where are Rose and Marie?” you ask, referring to your usual maids.

The maids keep their eyes averted, diligently carrying on with cleaning you. It must be your father’s doing, switching your trusted maids in fear that they would assist you in an escape. For the rest of the day, you allow them to complete their duties even as you spot the pity in their downturned gazes. After all, they were just like you and Hajime, bound to the shackles of their role in the castle.

When they complete their work on your body and face, they leave you with a small platter of carrots and glass of water, politely informing you that you are to finish your refreshments before they return to assist you in donning your gown. One of the older maids states that you must eat every bite as you will not be permitted to eat at the banquet tonight, lest your face and body become bloated from the rich cakes, cookies, and hor d'oeuvres to be offered.

Even as you defeatedly nibble at the vegetables, your respite is short lived when the maids file in once again, with armfuls of flowers, jewels, and ribbons. A pair of them work together to carefully chauffeur in a fabric mannequin donning a familiar gown – one that you had picked out so enthusiastically many days ago.

The maids spend the next hour tightening your corset and buckling the complex buttons of your gown, and the next hour after that curling ribbons in your hair and adorning jewels on your neck and wrists. When their work is done, they usher you over to your mirror and you smile dolefully at their expectant faces. Satisfied, they herd you to your door where there is no repose because your dutiful knight, the very same one who smashed your heart into unmendable pieces, awaits as your escort.

He holds up his arm as he has countless times before, but tonight, he offers no smile, no teasing remarks, not even a courteous compliment of your appearance.

“Shall we, then, your Highness?”

You nod robotically, taking his offered arm, allowing him to drag you to the party hall.

~•~

Under your father’s watchful eye, you keep a politeful distance from your unruly knight friends. You utter a docile ‘thank-you’ in response to Sir Hanamaki’s flattery, nod rotely at Sir Matsukawa’s concerned questioning of your somber face, and completely avoid your brother. Their care brings no comfort with your father’s burning gaze following you to every corner of the ballroom.

The etiquette training ingrained in you since a young age comes in handy as you mindlessly greet and entertain your guests. The most difficult thing you have had to do tonight is listen to your guests rave about the wonderful provisions and birthday cake, expressing your agreements, all the while knowing you are forbidden from partaking.

The night is part way through when your father finds you, a warning hand on your shoulder as he pulls you away from the guest you are currently greeting in favor of introducing you to a very special individual. Instinctively, you search for Hajime, but he is nowhere to be found. Your legs feel like lead as you follow obediently, eyes fixed to the ground even as you see a pair of polished shoes standing just before you and you hear your father’s booming voice introducing the owner of those shoes.

“- welcome to our humble estate. Please allow me to introduce my only daughter.”

You mumble your name as introduction. Your father’s next words and spoken slightly louder, a warning directed at you to display dignity fitting for a princess.

You raise your head to meet your betrothed. While he looks kind and handsome, there is no consolation. How could anyone ever compare to your knight?

“Princess,” he holds out his hand, a prompt to place yours in his. “My name is Kuroo Tetsuro, Crown Prince of the kingdom of Nekoma.”

You hesitate, arms glued to your sides. You know with each passing moment, your father’s patience runs thin, but you cannot help but search the room one more time. This is it. This is the last moment, last chance, he has to save you. To your endless disappointment, the one you seek is nowhere in sight.

You had always hoped that you meant more to Hajime than just his obligation. It hurts more than your own father disregarding your feelings. Even more so that all this time, you have fancied yourself as someone special to him, in a way that was more than a relationship between a princess and her guard. If not lovers, at the very least, you were comrades in arms, seeking a shared escape from the chains of the royalty. However, you remember his unfazed demeanor from yesterday, that indifferent expression that belies his feelings about you in the face of his true master’s, your father’s, orders. You realize that all this time, he has only seen you at your objective face value: a good he must take care of until it is out of his daily work responsibilities. With your fiance in the picture now, you can be passed along to the next that is now responsible for you. There is no more need for him to hover around your side. Your face burns in mortification.

When your father clears his throat, the fog in your mind completely engulfs you as you allow your body to react automatically. You offer your hand to Prince Kuroo, biting back the bile in your throat as he brings the back of your hand up to his lips.

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justfandomwritings · 2 years

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Safety Blanket (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Mentions of Lost Virginity (not in a negative/something bad happnened context, just a jealous one); angst with a happy ending (of sorts)

Prompted by @callsignvalley reblogging my last story with: “How did you know you wanted… that you wanted her to be… you know… your first?” did anyone else spiral about how addie must've felt when jake lost his virginity to marie leonard because i definitely did :(((

Notes: @callsignvalley you are to blame for this... or this is dedicated to you. Idk depends how you look at it. This story is not beta-read and was not edited at all. This is a first draft, random thought spawned by Valley's reblog.

Normally The Only Thing Universe stories can be read as a stand alone. This time, I don't think it will make sense if you don't read at least This Moment.

The Only Thing Masterlist

"I had sex with Marie."

"What?" Addie hummed as she continued packing up her books into her bag. Trying to fit all of them back in there always seemed impossible. She could've gotten a bigger bag, but what she really wanted was smaller textbooks. She never had to muscle them all in there like this last year.

"I said..." Jake sucked in a breath, "at Dante's party this weekend... I had sex with Marie."

Addie heard him the second time, and she blinked owlishly as her eyes slowly rose to look up at his. "Y-You did what?"

"Had sex... with Marie." Jake was chewing the corner of his bottom lip nervously.

He'd swung his legs off his bench and was kicking them back and forth. Turning up and down the edge of the rug repeatedly under foot. His eyes were boring into hers, like he was waiting with bated breath to see her reaction.

"Marie Leonard?"

"Yeah."

"From the cheerleading squad?"

"Yeah."

Addie blinked again, slowly, deliberately. "W-Well, how was it?"

Jake blinked back at her. Clearly, it was not the reaction he'd expected or perhaps hoped for. "F-Fine. It was fine. She was nice."

"Well," Addie jerked the zipper of her bag closed with possibly too much force. The sound of the teeth sliding back together was loud, aggresive in the otherwise quiet room. "I'm glad. Good for you."

"Thanks."

"We'll talk about it later but," Addie flung the bag up onto her shoulder, "I have to get back before Dad gets home and loses it when he sees I still haven't cleaned."

Jake shuffled to the edge of the bench, leaning over to look up and down the floor for his shoes in front of it. "Yeah, do you still need help with the yard?"

"No, I've got it."

Jake's head shot up.

Addie never turned down his help.

"Oh... ok then... I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah!" Addie gave him a smile that could only be described as 'polite' then turned and waved over her shoulder as she left his bedroom. "See you tomorrow!"

The door clicked shut behind her, and she marched determinedly down the hall, to the stairs, down the stairs, out the front door and promptly collapsed on the front yard grass.

The adrenaline, the shock that had kept her emotions in check, kept her face composed, kept her feet moving one in front of the other as she walked away, evaporated only seconds after she stepped out into the sun, and her heart gave out in her chest, stuttering to a near halt and falling like a weight as it dragged her to her knees.

It was such a nice day outside, such a beautiful day. Warm air, cool breeze, bright sun, fluffy clouds. It was the picture perfect day.

Picture perfect Marie. Beautiful Marie. Hot Marie. Sleek black hair pulled back in a ponytail, jawline that could cut like a knife, shining white teeth and piercing dark eyes Marie. Captain of the cheerleading squad Marie . Honor roll student with legs for days and not a mean word to say about anyone Marie. The golden girl and the golden boy. The picture perfect couple on the picture perfect day.

She imagined them, huddling together in Dante's room, somewhere away from prying eyes, exchanging excited whispers and sweet remarks. Jake placing loving kisses on her lips. Marie running her fingers through his golden hair.

It wasn't the sex that broke her. It was the intimacy, the touch. Jake's hand holding hers as he pulled her away from the party to somewhere more private. Marie's fingers stroking over parts of Jake's skin that no one else, not even Addie, got to see. It was holding each other close in the afterglow, smiling at each other and the collective happiness that they and only they had ever brought each other.

It wasn't the sex. It wasn't Marie. It was that it would never be her.

"No."

It wasn't a scream or a cry or a shout of despair. It was a whimper, a heartbroken plea for the universe to turn back time to yesterday and give her the chance to say what was really on her mind before it was too late.

She imagined it. Scenes from the movie Groundhog Day, an infinite number of do-overs till she got it right, a chance to learn from her mistakes, an opportunity to find a better way. To turn back time, just one day, over and over again until finally the story gave her her own happy ending.

She only needed one day. That wasn't too much to ask. One day to fix all her mistakes, to tell him how she felt before he found someone else, to take her chance while she still could, to spell out for him that she was in love with him.

She'd thought, for a brief shining moment at prom, that he might've felt something for her too, that he might have liked her, even been falling in love with her the way she was already desperately in love with him.

But that couldn't be true.

Tears were carving tracks down Addie's cheeks before she could stop them, not that she would ever try to do something so obviously useless.

This didn't hurt.

Her father being an asshole hurt. Her brother blaming for everything her hurt. Her parents divorce hurt. Her mother abandoning them hurt. Her mother's new perfect 'better' family hurt. Her father's drinking problem hurt. Her family hurt.

This was excruciating. Watching Jake slip away was excruciating. Suffocating.

She choked in a gasping breath of air, trying to fill her lungs because she could never fill her heart.

"Jake..." She choked out.

Her knees slipped out from under her, and she dragged them up into her chest, burying her face in her thighs, hiding her face away from the beautifully perfect day that was mocking her pain.

How was it that even in the face of such gut wrenching, heart rendering, trauma inducing pain, all she wanted was to crawl back up stairs to Jake?

Because even when it was him, him who broke her heart, him who crushed her naive hope, who ripped away her fantasy that one day she would muster up the courage to tell him how she felt and that he would breath a sigh of relief and tell her he felt the exact same, her fantasy that he would sweep her up in his arms and kiss her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him....

He was the only thing that could sooth her pain. And now, the only thing she couldn't have.

With no balm, no consolation, no Jake, with only the knowledge that she was stuck here, stuck in the Seresin's front yard, alone for the first time in her life since meeting Jake, Addie wept.

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

It could've been six minutes, six hours, or six days later.

Addie wouldn't have been able to tell.

The passage of time was only a concept she could comprehend in the past, could only comprehend when dwelling on how she was too late. It wasn't a concept she could comprehend in the present. She couldn't feel hear the clock ticking or feel the moments flying by.

Her awakening to the reality of the world around her wasn't subtle or sweet, wasn't soft or gentle, wasn't the comforting hand Jake usually rubbed up and down her back as she cried in his lap or the smell of her favorite cookies Debbie always baked for her when she was sad.

It was Ronnie, clambering haphazardly off the school bus having just got out of Kindergarten.

"Addie!" Ronnie's high pitched shriek as she came running across the yard was almost as jarring as the news she'd received from Jake earlier.

It was happy, gleeful, out of place with the moment and with Addie's mood.

"Addie! Guess what! I got to read in class today! And I didn't mess up any of the words! And Ms. Grenville said I was the best reader she'd had in a long time! And I told her that my best friend Addie taught! And she remembered you! And she said you were the best reader she'd had ever! Isn't that fun!"

Ronnie's excited little fists were shaking in the air as she happily jumped up and down in the grass at her high praise from her favorite teacher, and only teacher so far not that she cared.

Addie's watery eyes made her smile seem far sadder than she intended as she tried to muster up the energy to congratulate Ronnie. "That's great, Ronnie. I'm so proud of you. I know your mom will be too."

Her face wasn't really what Ronnie seemed to notice. It was her tone, lower, huskier from all the time she'd spent crying.

Ronnie quirked her head to one side. "Are you sad, Addie?"

"Yeah, Ronnie. I had a bad day."

Ronnie shrugged her backpack off immediately and unzipped it. She began rummaging through her bag, throwing school supplies over her shoulder without a care.

Any other day that alone would've made Addie smile, but this was not any other day.

'HERE!" Ronnie triumphantly ripped her hand out of her backpack. Her tiny fist was clutched around a small stuffed dog.

Ronnie held it expectantly in Addie's direction. "This is Austin. Ma gave him to me when I went to school to squeeze when I was feeling sad or missed home. You can have him."

"Oh Ronnie," Addie tentatively reached out a hand and let Ronnie drop the small puppy in her palm. "I don't want to take your puppy."

"You aren't taking him. I need him back. I get sad all time especially in reading class cause I want to read the stories you and Ma and Jake read me." She had the motor-mouth of a small child, her eyes and mind wandering as she spoke without a thought or filter, and it quirked Addie's lips up at the corner. "I need him back for when I'm sad, but you're sadder than me right now, and I don't want you to be sad because you're always happy and that makes me happy. So you can borrow him till your happy again, and then give him back to me for school."

It touched a chord in Addie somewhere, tugged at it more like. That this little girl cared about her so much to give up her safety blanket, a safety blanket that she objectively needed and used all the time, just because she thought it might help Addie.

Addie cupped the small stuffed animal reverently in both of her hands and cradled it against her chest. "I'll take very good care of him."

"You better!" Ronnie flopped onto the grass next to Addie. "He's my best friend besides you."

"I'm your best friend?"

"Of course!" Ronnie proudly declared. "And Kate's and Jake's. But I don't know why. Boys are gross."

Addie chuckled, "Jake's not gross."

Ronnie rolled her eyes, "Only to you because he likes you. Like how Ma says husbands are supposed to love wives, only Pa doesn't love Ma as much as Jake loves you."

Addie couldn't help it. Her hands tightened as she squeezed the puppy in her hands. Oddly, Ronnie was right, it did bring her a small ounce of comfort. "Jake doesn't love me."

Ronnie laid back in the grass, tugging up fist-fulls of green blades and throwing them up in the air, and she said in the matter-of-fact way that only a child could, "Yes he does. Like the princes love the princesses in the movies. Like he wants to spend happily ever after with you. Like you're the only thing he wants."

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solesommerso · 2 years

Text

☆-September Project 7-☆

day 7~ birthday

(in honor of it being my birthday, take some angst)

∘ ༺ ☆༻ ∘

- the content below contains dark/graphic themes, if uncomfortable or unsuitable to read such things please click away

jim street x 20 squad (not a ship just gen)

angst, hurt

a/n: this got so long, whoops

warnings: referenced/implied child abuse, panic attacks

Streets always hated his birthday, since he was a kid and it was met with broken glass stuck in his cheek or bruises aching against his sides. The system was no better, kids used him a punching bag til Nate came around, even afterwards his birthday was just a dark memory to haunt him.

Karen would call if she would remember, sometimes it was three days late or two weeks early, she tried. Buck always made sure to call and while Street appreciates it like no other, it does nothing to make him enjoy the day past the five minute phone call.

He doesn’t seem to have a choice today. All of twenty squad is very excited that Streets turning twenty five, gushing about how they didn’t know he was so young and they all need to celebrate. As if twenty five is an age that matters, he can drink, drive, enlist if he so pleased, there’s nothing special about twenty five.

“This is gonna be great!” Luca somehow convinced Deacon to throw a last minute party at his house tonight, it’s just the team but Street still doesn’t want to go.

Most nights of his birthday are filled with horrid flashbacks or panic attacks from his fathers rage, never something he wants the team to see or know about. Street doesn’t expect tonight to be any different, but he’s running out of excuses so it looks like he’ll have to try and tough it out.

Toughing it out sounds easier in theory is Streets lesson of tonight.

Breathing heavily, gripping the side of Deacons sink and willing himself from collapsing is not Streets idea of a fun birthday. The team just had to ask what he did when he was a kid, what is the first birthday he remembers, what themes he would chose- all things Street couldn’t answer.

The first birthday he remembers ends in an Er trip for a broken arm, he didn’t chose themes, he never did anything considered good for his birthday as a kid. He’d crawl under his bed to hide as his father downed another cup of bourbon while shouting how he wished he never had a kid in the first place, that the older Street gets the more disappointing he is.

It’s what runs through Streets head as he closes his eyes, trying to ground himself, remind himself that he’s okay and in Deacons bathroom not his childhood home of nightmares. It doesn’t work too well, Street still finds himself sliding down to the floor and clutching his knees up against his chest.

He presses his face into his folded forearms, feeling the hot tears seeping from his eyes, ignoring that the team might come searching for him since he’s been gone for a long time, he just focus’s on trying to breathe evenly. Not short gasps.

“Street?” Hondos knuckles tap against the bathroom door, concern covering his tone.

“You okay kid? You sick?” Street sucks back all the tears the best he can, wiping his cheeks off with his hoodie sleeves before standing to open the door.

“You alright?” Hondos hand is on Streets shoulder, the action sends a quick spike of fear through Streets chest but he lets the hand stay. It’s Hondo, he’d never hurt Street.

“I’m good.” His voice is wobbly, not at all convincing.

“Your hands are shaking.” Shit. Street stuffs them into his pocket, looking back to Hondo with as much of a smile as he can muster.

“There’s a reason I don’t celebrate my birthday Hondo.” Street sighs then walks past Hondo, throwing his best fake happiness on as he can as he hears Luca calling his name for cake and feels Tans hand rest comfortably on the small of his back.

#writing #js #jim street #september 22 fics

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

Nothing gets my heart fluttering more than strong boys being soft during intimate moments. May I ask for Zhongli and Diluc whose s/o made them laugh/chuckle during sex? Maybe their s/o accidentally bumped into them awkwardly or they cracked a joke. 😭 I just want to see them happy and in love your honor

In these moments, we may still laugh

( okay so ... these just they are so .. fuffufu -- i’m sorry Zhongli )

Warning -> 18+ NS-FW ( cussing, penetration (non-gender specific), straight into the action, missionary (D/Zh), facing each other (Ch))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Zhongli

Childe

Childe found every activity with you fun - it didn’t matter what or where he was down to participate because if you were there it was sure to be a good time. Out of all of them though, being intimate with you was his favorite - to have you completely to himself, away from the eyes of others, held in his arms and clinging to him like it was the only thing keeping in this life -- well having you naked was just an added bonus to that

Just don’t use his weakness against him, he can’t handle it

He held you close to his chest, one arm wrapped around your back, hand pressing onto your slick flesh while the other pushed into the mattress behind him. He looked so good, his chest elongated, shoulders flexing, abs tense as he helped you ride him on bent knees. Luckily he was strong enough to keep you up because even in this position, with the soft bed under your legs, you felt you could fall at any moment from your weakness.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Childe hummed, his head falling back for just a moment as you slid onto him again. It was a beating, pulsing ride that you gave him and, while you got yourself off on him, he lost his mind on you.

He shifted, his legs adjusting, forcing you to spread more for him, and in the intensity of the sensation, your hands grabbed onto his waist, clawing for dear life. He bit his lip, his eyes closed tightly and you thought he was getting close - which, honestly, was a bit early for him but perhaps this felt just as good for him as it did for you. So, you gripped harder. Your fingers digging into his sides, squeezing tightly as you lifted and fell onto him again and again.

“Y/N… move .. mo-” He shook his head and your heart pounded in your chest, eyes locked onto his expression until, without warning, he burst into laughter.

The sudden noise caught you off guard and made your body stop mid-drop onto his cock. He collapsed backward and you quickly adjusted so he could be more comfortable but no matter how much you asked him if he was okay or what was going on, he couldn’t find the breath to answer you. The hearty laugh that continued to burst through his mouth made you so curious and, in your attempt to gain more information, you leaned against his stomach.

“That-your … tickles!” He finally choked out and immediately you understood. Your hands lifted off of his chest and flew to your face. He breathed so deeply, it was like someone finally let enough oxygen back into the room.

“I-I didn’t … wait you’re ticklish?!” You poked him again and watched as he bent at your contact.

“It’s not something ... I can usually handle it.” He ran his hand across his forehead fingers moving to wipe the tears that fell from his eyes.

“Are you kidding me? That’s … that’s so cute.” Your hands covered your face as you tried to hide the intense smile stretching your lips.

“Now you know how I feel.”

“What do you mean?”

Childe grabbed one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around your own as he pulled it to his lips and as he spoke against them, you felt how hard he was against your leg. “You’re always so damn cute.”

Quickly, he grabbed and flipped you onto your back making his way back into your aching body. He wasted no time pushing himself back into his enjoyment of you but any time your fingers drew too close to his waist, he pinned them above your head.

Diluc

He loved you so much. Everything about you moved him. The sight of your face first thing in the morning, the sound of your voice somewhere in another room - how its comforting tone and cadence always let him know you were somewhere close - the caress of your hands as they ran across his chest, fingers pressing softly against his lips before they felt the warmth of your own

He loved you, how could he not

His lips made your skin so sensitive. Every time they touched your neck, trailed down to your collarbone as he gently pushed himself into you, the shockwave of pleasure blanketed you and made you feel safe. Draping your leg over his back, you shifted and the resulting action pulled a moan from your throat. His hand slipped against your cheek as if to protect you from the sheets you panted heavily against, the feeling of his thumb as it pushed against your bottom lip and gently encouraged your mouth to stay open caused your mind to race, your heart to pound and chest to heave. It was all so transformative, but not as transcending as the way he stretched you, the way he slid into your body, pulled back, and pushed in again - that was a whole different experience.

“Diluc, mmm, th-there right there.” Twisting, you gave him more access to you and in your rolling pleasure he picked up the pace. His hand plastered behind your head, fingers sliding to hold onto the side of your neck as he thrust into you. “Ah!” Your eyes shot open, your hand moved to push against his chest, legs wrapping tightly around him. For a second, you looked down and saw the way his abs rippled and flexed with every push of his hips into you. Your eyes moved to his face and when they saw how his lips parted, his eyes fluttered closed, hair brushed against flushed cheeks, you thought it was over. The knot building in your stomach tightened, it was right there and he was working it out so easily.

In your haze, you didn’t notice how much he was pushing you up the bed, how close you were getting to the sturdy and thick mahogany bed frame, and just when you were about to crash around him, you instead crashed into a different type of wood.

“Ah-OUCH!” You yelled, and Diluc immediately stopped moving. His eyes shot to your face, noticing how your hand pressed tightly against the top of your head.

“A-are you o-” He’s cut off by your laughter and wasn't quite sure what is more shocking, the sudden pain caused to you or the hysterical way you were reacting to it.

“Damn, I was right there …” You whine through your laughter, fingers rubbing against the now sore spot on your head. You start to pout, your lips turning into a frown, eyebrows furrowing together and Diluc can’t help but laugh. “Don’t laugh, it hurt.”

“You laughed first.” He chuckles, adjusting his body so he can slide you further away from the bed frame. “Let me see.”

“It’s gonna turn into a welt.” He leans up, his hand slipping under the back of your head so he can see better, essentially pulling your face to his shoulder. Even in your distraction, you still manage to place soft kisses on his delicious skin.

“It looks fine, do you want to continue?” He pressed a soft kiss to your head and waited for your answer.

“Well obviously, I’m not gonna let this stop us …” Slipping your hand back over your head you jumped a little when you heard his laugh spill out from his chest. His mouth stretched into a beautiful smile, his eyes closed crinkling the edges as he dropped to your shoulder. The heat of his body made your skin warm but the fever that was his laugh burned your heart.

“Obviously …” His breath tickled your skin as he repeated your comment.

“It’s true. I was so close!” Kissing the side of his head, you listened to the lovely sound of his laugh until it died down to a ringing chuckle.

“Me too, shall we start again?” His lips found yours and for a while, the two of you shared smiling kisses and playful banter and, when the heat of the moment rose again, Diluc kept his hand like a shield at the back of your head.

Zhongli

Your essence drew him to you, your wit and charm brought him in, your lips kept him close, and your love made him stay

He knew no other that could make him crumble, that could shake him to his innermost being -- that accepted him and cared for him as much as he cared for you. Your relationship was equal, equitable, and constant

His arms surrounded you like a protective barrier, his body shielded you so perfectly from the world beyond him and, as he positioned himself to enter you with eyes filled with gentleness, lips covered in love, spoke with a voice so soothing it could calm the most challenging of fires, you accepted him without hesitation.

The moan he pulled from your throat was angelic, like a heavenly body whispering its sins and he wanted to hear every single one of them. The bend of your back, the grip of your hands as they wrapped around his arms, the rise and fall of your chest as your body tried to fully comprehend the pleasure he was pushing into you. You never understood how he was able to fit, but he always managed to fill you so well that you saw the stars behind your eyelids.

“Zhongli,” You moaned his name and the rumbling response from his throat made you tremble. “You make me quake.” He kissed your cheek before trailing more down your throat. Each thrust of his hips brought you more pleasure and, soon, the tightness in your stomach began to build.

“This is getting interesting.” You whispered and noticed a slight pause in his movements, “I’m crumbling under you, Zhongli!” Your voice grew louder and at the same time, his pace began to slow until the final thrust he gave came moments after your exclamation, “make me RISE!”

He pushed himself onto his hands and stared down at you with the most curious expression but no matter how hard you tried to hold it in, it was impossible. As his golden eyes looked at you, his brow rose in a question he didn’t know how to ask while you let your laughter explode from your lips.

“M-my dear?” His confused tone only made you laugh harder, it was like trying to explain the point of a joke to someone who kept asking you ‘what's so funny,’ no matter how hard you tried to stop it just wouldn't work. “Is this a jest?”

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” You looked at him but he didn’t seem to follow you, so, through slowing laughter, you tried to explain. “You say those things a lot when you fight … and I well I just wanted to use them myself.”

He watched you, his eyes searching and, for a moment you felt maybe he might have found your joke in poor taste, but when the deep, rich rumble of his laughter started to build in his chest and he cracked a heartwarming smile, you relaxed back into the mattress.

“I did not know my words rested so fondly in your memory.”

Leaning up to kiss his smiling lips, you sighed knowing that he was accepting of such a silly part of your humor. “Everything that you say I remember, no matter what.” His eyes closed slightly as you kissed him again and got distracted by his gentle and connected kisses.

Flexing, you let out a whimper as you felt him move in you again, this moment seemed to have quickly returned to the time before your corny jokes, and as he lowered you back onto the sheets, his fingers sliding over your jaw as he lifted himself above you he spoke so steadily it made you listen.

“Do you recall any other phrases that I often make in battle?”

His question caught you off guard, that and the sight of his majesty as he straightened his spine, head looking down at you while his hands rested against your thighs. “N-no, not really.”

“Ah, well. Let me share with you one of my favorites.” Wrapping his hands under your thighs and lifting them about his waist, he gazed at you with a hungry expression, “I will have order.” The sound of your moans and cries grew so loud that you were sure they would be heard by innocent passersby.

tag list:

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pha5ed · 3 years

Note

Can you do something about Sapnap taking the readers virginity and the reader finds out they have a dumbification kink pleas

Baby || Sapnap x Reader

type :: smut

tw/cw:: small blood mention

contains :: usage of baby, size kink, corruption, praise, dumbification

“I'll be really gentle, don't worry baby” Sapnap said hovering above you, pressing small and quick kisses on your forehead and cheek.

You were laying on your back with Sapnap above you. His hands were intertwined with yours, holding them gently above your head. He was rubbing slow circles in your hands with his thumb, making you relax more.

When you told him you were ready for sex, he was hyped. He was going to fuck your brains out. But when you told him you were a virgin his heart exploded, he was so happy.

He was honored to be your first. He was so happy that you were comfortable with him and trusted him so much. He promised to be gentle and sweet with you, already giving you a safe word.

Light feathery kisses were placed all over your collarbones. He let go of your hand and felt all of your body, hovering above all of your curves.

“You're so pretty,” He said, a smile on his face was slowly appearing as he got up on his knees. “I’m so lucky”

He eyed all of your naked body, you were perfect. Your face, shoulders, stomach, thighs, all so gorgeous. “This might hurt a bit baby,”

His fingers rubbed themselves up and down between your folds. All of his touches were so light, he was scared of breaking you. One finger slowly inserted unto you, pumping in and out.

He wasn't too fast or too slow, just right for you. “I'm gonna put another, okay?”

Another finger went into you, you felt a harsh sting. He curled them slightly and kept feeling around your insides. His fingers were thick, he was so big compared to you.

You moan as you felt him inside of you. He was reaching places you've never even imagined. His long and thick fingers were enough to get you off. He kept pumping in and out and you kept moaning.

Without even knowing, your hips were bucking up to his fingers. “No no, stay still baby,” he said with a chuckle. His big hand was warm as he held your hips down to the mattress.

“Sapnap!” you cried out “I’m- ahh! close!”

His fingers went slightly faster. He used his thumb to rub circles on your clit as you moaned out his name. “So pretty,” you heard him mumble.

You felt weird. Your stomach felt tighter and your breathing was unstable. Sapnap kept reaching your weak spot as you cried out and came. The knot was gone and you looked up at him.

“That's my girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He stayed there for a bit, moving to your neck to leave small kisses there.

He was towering over you, his hands interlocking with yours again as he held them above your head. You could feel his dick poking at your tired hole. His hips grinded against you and he groaned out.

You nodded as he let go of one of your hands. He held his dick and inserted his tip in. You winced in pain as your face scrunched up.

“I know, I'm so sorry baby. It will be gone, just wait” Sapnap said as he slowly pushed himself deeper. He moaned out your name as he accidentally pushed too far in.

“Ow!!!” you cried out as your eyes rolled back. “Sapnap! Too big mm”

He stilled for a second and kissed your lips. “Fuck my bad. You're so tight, sorry”

You slowly adjusted around him as he kept pushing forward. How big was he? Your hole was struggling to even take his fingers and now his big cock was splitting you apart.

A liquid ran down your leg. Did you cum already? You looked down and saw blood drip down your thighs. Looking back up at Sapnap you felt his dick twitch inside of you.

“Fuck you're so cute,” he groaned into your ear as he pushed himself further by force, bottoming out. You cried out as you moaned out babbles of nothing. “So tight and dumb for my cock,” he said brushing the hair out of your face.

He hasn't even thrusted yet you were already so fucked out. “I'm gonna move, okay baby?” He said as he gently rocked his hips.

The tip was touching the very top of your insides. He was constantly hitting against it, he could go into your guts if he really wanted. You moaned out his name, he wasn't even going that fast yet.

“God, if you act if you're like this already what will happen when I fuck your brains out?” He groaned into your ear as he did a slightly harsher thrust into you. You moaned out his name and gripped the sheets as your back arched. You couldn't wait till he fucked your brains out, till you were braindead and just a fucked out toy.

His thrusts slowly got rougher. He could barely hold himself back with you looking like that. You were out of breath, breasts bouncing with every thrust, your eyes were rolled back. So beautiful for him, he loved every piece and part of you.

The feeling from before was slowly coming back. Your stomach got tighter and you couldn't focus, you were so fucked out already. “Sanap! Fuck, nghh” was all you could say. His hips went faster, you couldn't take it anymore.

“Cum for me fuck- I'll cum too” He said, both hands gripped your hips as he kept thrusting into you.

The knot in your stomach became too much to handle. You screamed out his name as he came as well. He was still holding your hips as he slowly pulled out. Sapnap collapsed next to you and hugged you.

Your forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips were all attacked with kisses as he still held your hand. You were still so fucked out, dumb from his cock. He laughed and cuddled you, pressing you against his chest. “Awww, baby” he coed at you.

note :: bleeding during your very first time is normal with lots of women. bleeding during sex is as normal as not bleeding. if you feel like you're worried about your body still then please contact a doctor and do your own research.

#sapnap x reader #sapnap smut #dream smp smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #dsmp x reader #tw dumbification #tw size kink #s4pn4p

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Smitten - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader

Filming sex scenes wasn’t the easiest task. There are weird nude undergarments or socks or tape or sometimes just a nude co-star…With Tom, though? There were nerves and feelings and a deep down hope that he couldn’t tell that you were incredibly turned on as he mimed fucking you twelve ways to Sunday.

“Cut! That’s a wrap on today. Great work guys!” the director called.

Tom collapsed onto your chest, laughing as the tension left his body. “These never get easier.”

“I don’t know” you teased, playing with his hair as everyone left the set so you two could leave the bed with some of your dignity. “It’s a lot easier with you.”

Tom held himself up on his elbows. “Don’t tell me your past romantic co-stars have been less than gentlemanly.”

“Not all of them.” You shrugged. Being a ‘larger than the Hollywood standard’ actress had put you in some…not very flattering roles in the start of your career. Sure, now you were the romantic lead with a conventionally attractive male actor, but lets just say you’ve dealt with a lot to get here.

“Well, I hope you know you deserved better.” Tom kissed the back of one of your hands, rolling off of you.

“Coming from you, I may actually believe it.” You laughed, gathering the sheet around you as you left the bed, grabbed your robe, and started walking towards your trailer.

The two of you filmed the movie…Where you’d usually fall asleep in one of your two trailers watching other movies…

The two of you attended interviews…Where Tom would almost always defer to you and even stuck up for you when a few interviewers were borderline sexist or would comment on your appearance…

The two of you even walked a few red carpets together…Tom’s hand always placed at your middle or on your hip or in one of your hands...

He invited you out to eat with him before or after any shindig the two of you went to…

He’d walk you to your hotel rooms with kisses left on your cheeks…

He’d even tried to convince you to spend the week before the premiere in London with him…

In your mind, Tom was just too nice. He was nice to everybody. It all seemed very friendly…Until…

You hadn’t been watching the interviews as they’d been posted. Some interviews you did together with Tom and others you’d been split up and put with other actors from the movie.

Your phone pinged…

*best friend* - HAVE YOU SEEN TOM ON FALLON?!?

Before you could reply, your phone started blowing up.

You scrolled through the texts until you saw Tom’s

Tom – Darling, I hope you know how much you mean to me. Regardless of what your answer is, I’d never want to lose your friendship. It’s not every day you get to work with one so incredibly kind and thoughtful and talented and beautiful and…every moment I’ve spent with you has been a privilege. Please put me out of my misery and let me know you’ll at least let me see you again.

“What the fuck?” you asked yourself, opening your laptop and googling “Tom Hiddleston and Jimmy Fallon”

You saw that the Fallon YouTube channel had just posted Tom’s segment of tonight’s episode…

“How are you doing, buddy?” Fallon asked, pulling Tom into a tight hug.

“I’m doing incredibly well at the moment, actually.” Tom answered, sharing that the movie you two had filmed together had done extremely well on its opening weekend just a few days earlier.

“I know! It was amazing. I’ve seen it twice!” Fallon replied, always enthusiastic.

“I’m so glad you liked it. Y/n is incredible, right?” Tom turned to the audience, loving that they cheered when he brought you up.

“Oh my god, you two are so good together. I kind of thought maybe you two were…you know…” Fallon waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom threw his head back laughing, fidgeting with his tie and avoiding looking into the audience.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you two don’t have SOME sort of real chemistry. I saw the movie.” Fallon gave Tom a look like *Don’t lie*

“Well, perhaps we’re just incredible actors and you’re simply complimenting our craft.” Tom shrugged, trying to look anywhere but at Jimmy.

“Well, yes. The acting in the movie is amazing, but I don’t think that accounts for this.” Jimmy turned and pointed to the screen. It was a series of clips pulled from Tom’s interviews where all he did was gush about you.

“I missed being home, but it’s hard for anyone to stay upset when they’re around Y/n. She just lifts the mood in any room she’s in. You could say she makes anywhere feel a bit like home.” Tom had answered when a woman asked him if it was hard being on site away from home for 5 months.

When another interviewer asked Tom what his favorite line in the movie was, he answered, quoting one of your lines. “When she delivered it for the first time, it kind of took my breath away. I felt very unprofessional. I had to apologize and ask to start over. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say next. She tends to have that effect on me.” Tom laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks.

The final clip was one of an interviewer simply asking Tom how his day had gone. “I feel all out of sorts, if I’m being honest. Y/n isn’t here today because she woke up not feeling the best and with Covid still being an issue, she didn’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.” Tom answered with a sad smile on his face. When the interviewer shared that they hoped you would be okay and feel better soon, Tom answered with “I’ll make sure to pass on your sentiments when I bring her food later on.”

“COME ON!” Fallon laughed, throwing his arms up.

“I know, I know. I’m not very good at hiding how I feel, I guess.” Tom admitted, leaning back against the couch and laying his arm across the top. The crowd went wild.

“So, you admit it! Are you two together?!” Fallon asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Unfortunately, not.” Tom answered, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Why?!” Jimmy asked. “You’re clearly smitten!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Tom rebutted, looking to the audience for support. “I’ve tried!”

“Aww, now I feel bad for bringing it up.” Fallon chuckled and looked at the audience as they collectively ‘aww’ed. “How could anyone turn down this?!” He gestured towards Tom as the audience cheered.

“Well, if I’m to be completely honest I guess I haven’t actually TOLD her how I feel.” Tom confessed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Jimmy paused.

“Well, I thought she’d catch on. I assume she has.” Tom laughed, fidgeting in his seat. “I’m pretty sure everyone else that knows the two of us can tell I’ve fallen completely head over heels for her.”

“Tom, Tom, Tom.” Jimmy shook his head.

“What?” Tom asked, nervous about what the answer would be.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I think you may just be horrible at flirting.” Fallon said with a straight face, the audience busting up laughing after.

“Do you think?” Tom replied, eyes gone wide in exaggerated surprise.

“I mean, I think you’re just so nice.” Jimmy laughed, trying to stay serious…“that everyone thinks you’re flirting with them…Which means, when you’re trying to flirt it just blends in.”

“Well, how would you suggest I stand out then?” Tom asked, putting his elbow on his knee and leaning his chin on his fist like he was really paying attention.

“I mean…” Fallon slowly pointed towards the camera. “You gotta shoot your shot, right?”

The audience went wild at the suggestion. “Oh, dear.”

“I can scrap this and we can just talk about the movie.” Jimmy offered, making sure Tom knew that none of this had to go on the air.

“I mean, if it’s truly that obvious to everyone what have I got to lose, right?” Tom answered.

“That’s what we like to hear!” Jimmy cheered with the audience.

“Well…Y/n.” Tom paused, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t quite know where to start. I feel as though I may have been remiss by not just telling you how I feel. The consequence of such is that now I’m doing it in front of all of these people *gestures to the audience*…and I’m sure you’re laughing at how red I’ve gone and how flustered I am so I’m going to get to the point. Darling, you’re an incredible woman. I could list a million reasons why, but hopefully later you’ll give me the time to tell you them in person. What I really want to tell you now is that you make me happy. You inspire me. You make me want to be the best version of myself and you even make me believe I can achieve it. I’d be honored if you’d give me a chance.”

Fallon had tears in his eyes and most of the audience did, as well. “I…That was so beautiful. I think we need to go to a commercial break.” He was all choked up and stood to give Tom a hug.

You pulled up Tom’s text, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Are you still in New York?” you text him. The two of you were there for interviews. You were even staying in the same hotel.

“I am.” He text back, but the ‘typing’ bubble stayed. “Did you watch it?”

“I did.” You answered. “Come over?”

You saw the ‘typing’ bubble pop up and then disappear a few times. Instead of a text, you heard a knock at your hotel door.

“So?” Tom asked when you opened the door. He looked nervous, a look you didn’t often see from him. He had his glasses on and his hair was an adorable mess. He was even already dressed in his night clothes.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stepped forward and placed your hands on each side of his face, pulling his lips gently to yours. He quickly reciprocated, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards into your hotel room.

“And to think, I could have been doing that for a whole year already.” You teased him, connecting your lips again.

“Don’t worry, my sweet.” Tom answered, pressing kisses across your cheek and down your neck. His lips paused at the shell of your ear and his voice dropped. “It just means we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#Tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #curvy #loki

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

Text

You Are Family Now (Sherlock x Reader)

So I had to repost this, @elanna-elrondiel was the one that requested it and i’m so happy they did, I feel like since I had to post it once again I should name you for this brilliant idea. Enjoy!

“Mister Holmes may I introduce you to my niece, miss (y/f/n)”

A young woman smiled at him as she extended her arm for him to take, her hands were covered but a pair of silk black gloves and her white dress complimented her complexion perfectly. Sherlock took her hand and gave a gentle kiss, before looking straight into her eyes, however she could swear that he looked in her soul.

“Sherlock Holmes, Charmed”

“Likewise, what brings you to my dear uncles event? I don’t recall being in your presence before”

“Destiny I hope, only that could explain being around such an ethereal woman”

After that fatal meeting Sherlock had pursued her, he was astonished by her kind heart and lively spirits, she looked at the world in rose colored glasses and her curiosity about everything was so heart warming to him, it was also a reminder that not everything has to be a mystery and sometimes you need a little sugar in your coffee.

“Happy birthday beloved”

“Oh Sherlock, you spoil me way to much”

“As I am expected to do, especially since it’s your first birthday we spend together”

Sherlock had asked he to spend the night in his home, after their engagement a few days ago she was free of the judgmental eye of the public and could do whatever she wanted with her fiancé in public or not. Sherlock touched the button of her nose with the red rose he had brought with the breakfast, he could not believe how fast he had fallen for her, she was needed in his life, she grounded him, she was the sensitive happy little tune in his head that brought a smile on his face.

“Happy birthday dear”

“Thank you honey”

He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss that made her smile in between the quick little pecks that moved from her lips to her entire face. She started giggling at the matter and tried to push him away.

“Sherlock the food tray”

He swiftly placed it on the floor and dove under the covers yet still on top of her. She kissed him back as her hands held on the material of his shirt on the side of his torso. She loved how smitten he was behind closed doors, how his hands felt almost like feathers by how gentle he was with her, as he pulled back and looked at her, her right hand traveled to his hair, combing through his curls with the feeling of it making her smile once again.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know, I guess my uncle hosts great events”

The scene was interrupted by a ring of his doorbell. He wasn’t expecting anyone, he had made sure to not be disturbed today, it was all about her today so a sudden visit was the last thing he needed.

“Maybe it’s your brother”

She spoke, sensing his irritation and questioning the rude visitor. He looked back to her and gave her a kiss once again, dreading the fact that he had to go and open the door.

“Whoever it is, they are getting a brief excuse as for why they can’t come in. I’ll be back in a minute darling”

He put on his robe and to cover his pajamas and left her with her breakfast. (Y/n) didn’t mind it, her stomach was very excited about the delicious treats she was offered by her love, the smell of the pastries and the orange juice definitely made up for the few moments he had to be away from her.

As Sherlock opened the door he was met with the very last person he expected it to be.

“Mother?”

“Oh Sherlock, it’s so nice to see you”

Eudoria didn’t miss a beat nor took into consideration her sons wide eyes and shocked demeanor, she hugged him tightly as a way to show how much she had missed him, even thought she valued her kids independency, they were still her children.

“I wasn’t expecting you to visit”

“Oh dear how could I not? As soon as I got your letter informing me of your engagement I had to come and meet the girl that will be a part of our family, you have a lovely home by the way”

She said as she looked around. It was the first time that Sherlock didn’t know what to do exactly, his mother was in the same home with his fiancé that has no clue of what is going on.

“Is she here? Of course she is, you were never fond of high heels”

She let out a small giggle as her gaze found the shoes that were placed right next to his from last night. Sherlock quickly regained his cool and smiled at his mother.

“It’s her birthday today”

“Oh good, go get her for me please. I’ll wait in the living room for you two”

Without even waiting for a positive or negative response, she walked away from the hall and onto the living room. Sherlock huffed as he walked up the stairs, he had no doubt that his mother would adore (y/n), however (y/n) always became nervous whenever the topic of meeting his family was brought up. As opened the door of his room, there she was eating the breakfast he had made for her, she looked up at him with her mouth full, it was such a sight to see her do anything, she truly looked like a princess.

“Who was it?”

“My...mother”

Silence. As (y/n) waited for him to laugh or show any hint of this being a silly joke of his to tease her, as she waited the chances of it being a joke became thinner and her heart started to beat faster by the second.

“What?”

“I wrote to her about our engagement, she came to see you”

“no, no, no this can’t be”

“Darling, calm yourself”

He approached her, his hands taking hers. Of course she wanted to meet his family, she always tried to get some stories of them out of him, his mother sounded like a very interesting and excellent lady. Yet, this wasn’t the way she wanted to meet her, wearing the dress she wore last night, her hair is a mess and she didn’t have a stitch of make up, she couldn’t meet her in this state.

“Sherlock I can’t meet her, i’m not prepared”

“Dear she will love you no matter what, come on let me help you with your corset”

Sherlock took the tray and placed it at the table a few steps away from his bed. He was expecting her to be on her feet when he turned around, to his surprise she was still in bed, looking utterly mortified.

“(Y/n) come on now, she is waiting”

“What if you tell her i’m sick?”

“Dear, she is not stupid and she traveled all the way here just to see you, wouldn’t it be rude if you didn’t come down to meet her?

“I suppose so”

“Let’s get you ready”

(Y/n) let her feat touched the ground and slowly collected her dress. She stood still as Sherlock started tying her corset, he was.... used to assisting her tying it back up.

“What if... she thinks I’m not enough for you? What if she advised you not to marry me?”

“Then I guess we have once less invitation on our wedding”

“Don’t be ridiculous Sherlock, we can’t marry without your mothers blessing”

“And we won’t have to, you are a remarkable young lady that I am blessed to have in my life, I am sure my mother will think the same”

with one final tie, her corset was ready. Sherlock placed a light kiss on her shoulder and span her around to look at those eyes of hers. His arms wrapped slowly around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

“I will give you a few minutes to get ready, I will be right next to you through the whole thing alright?”

“Fine. I’ll be down in a minute”

He left her get prepared and for one last time went back down to his mother was had sat down in one of the chairs next to the window. The light of the sun brought warmth in the room and showed off the furniture that he had chosen.

“She is quite nervous to see you mother”

“Oh nonsense, I’m not some stuck up mother that thinks no one is enough for my son.”

“She just really wants to make a good impression, she always asks about you”

He sat in the couch close by her, patiently waiting for lovely little (y/n). Not even a minute went by before she appeared, her her up and away from her face and a nervous smile on her lips, she walked to Eudoria and bowed to an extent that made Sherlock think she touched the ground.

“Miss Holmes, it’s an honor to meet you”

“The pleasure is all mine dear. Let me look at you”

(Y/n) straighten her posture and smiled even brighter at the woman. Eudoria took in her sons fiancé before smiling herself.

“Oh my, you are a true beauty dear. My son is a very lucky man”

“I think I am lucky to have him in my life, you raised a very noble man miss Holmes”

“He is alright, but you... I see why he chose you”

Sherlock decided it was a good time to join the two women. He stood next to (Y/n) and took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze just to let her know he was there for her. He looked over at his pleased more that was still staring at (y/n)

“She is even more wonderful once you get to know her mother”

“I have no doubt about that. What is your name love?”

“(Y/f/n)”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. My so told me it is your birthday today”

“Yes miss Holmes it is my birthday”

“Oh please call me Eudoria, you are family now aren’t you”

(Y/n) almost collapse to the floor. Joy took over her and it was shown by how red her cheeks had gotten, with shaking knees she held herself and nodded at the request Eudoria had made.

“We must celebrate then, Sherlock I’m sure you can make a reservation to a nice restaurant for dinner”

“Of course, if (y/n) wishes to do so”

“I would love to have dinner with your mother”

“Excellent, now I have reserved a room for me in the Lenox hotel, I’ll give you two some privacy now”

“Allow me to walk you out mother”

Before she stepped out of the room, Eudoria opened her arms and hugged the young girl. (Y/n) restrained herself from fainting and hugged her back, the nervous smile was replaced by a big happy smile that reached her ears.

“Welcome to the family (y/n)”

“Thank you miss- I mean Eudoria”

Eudoria giggled at the flustered (y/n) and walked away accompanied by her son. As they reached the door she turned to her son who was also smiling, of course he was sure that they would get along but it was even better now that it actually happened.

“She is a lovely girl Sherlock”

“I know mother, she is perfect”

“Now Sherlock, marriage is not an easy thing so please don’t make me come here and beat you with a stick, cause I will if I find out you are being a bad husband”

“Mother if I recall correctly marriage is between two people, not just one”

“Oh please Sherlock, the girl almost passed out when she saw me, I saw how she relaxed when you took her hand, she loves you”

“And I do as well”

It was true, Sherlock loved and adored (y/n), she was his one and only. Eudoria hugged her son once last time and walked out of the house. As Sherlock was returning to the living room, he heard quick footsteps coming towards him and in a blink of an eye (y/n) had ran to him and hugged him tightly, making him take a few steps back by the force of hers

“Well now, someone’s excited”

“She called me family”

“You are family (y/n), I told you she would like you”

“Yes you did but.... she did as well”

Sherlock could only giggle at her cute outburst of excitement. (Y/n) had a lot of friends and family members that were already married or engaged so she had heard the mother in law horror stories, she was delighted that Sherlocks mother was not one of them.

“We must find an excellent restaurant for tonight”

“Yes, before that”

A squeal was heard that had escaped (y/n) as Sherlock swiped her off her feet and took her in his arms bridal style. Another kiss was given to her that she responded almost immediately this time.

“I have to give you one of your birthday presents”

“One?”

“Of course, one for your personal pleasure and another to flaunt to those rude little “friends” of yours”

“They are better than your brother”

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

#zemo #zemo x reader #zemo imagine #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #tfatws #marvel #mcu #daniel brühl #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x you #angst #Zemo angst

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reciprocityfic · 3 years

Note

#12 for AmyxLaurie

12. an exchange of gifts or mementos.

They leave Orchard House late that first night, long after the sun has set. Even Mr. Laurence - or rather, Grandfather, as the older man had corrected her gently but insistently several times throughout the evening - had stayed the entire time, and the three of them are ushered out of the house with warm words and soft hugs. She kisses both Daisy and Demi once more on their foreheads as the twins sleep - Daisy on her father's shoulder and Demi on his mother's - and then, it's time to go.

She feels something significant as she passes over the threshold and steps out into the comfortably cool air, something tugging at her heart. She knows she's not leaving the house behind for good; Hannah invited them over for breakfast the next morning, for heaven's sake.

She'd always considered her trip to Europe the effective end of her childhood. And if that hadn't been enough, the death of her sister and her marriage to Laurie had each matured her in their own way: one ripped off and broke the rose-colored glasses through which she'd viewed her youth, and the other turned her head from darkness to the light of all the wonderful things that lie ahead.

But still, there's something about this moment, about leaving the home that isn't quite her home anymore. She looks up at the large white house looming across the street, and the tugging grows harder. It isn't bad, she supposes. It's just...heavy.

She's nervous.

A million what-ifs prepare to run themselves through her brain, but then Laurie pulls her close, loops their arms together. She looks up at him, and he's staring down at her wearing a curious expression, the planes of his face lit up by the light spilling out of the still-open doorway.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently.

She nods, leans over and places a kiss on his shoulder in response. He smiles slowly at her, and then motions with his head across the street.

"Let's go home."

And suddenly, the weight inside her is lifted, the what-ifs stopped in their tracks and replaced instead with wishes and dreams of all that is to come. She smiles back at him, and now feels as if she could fly.

They start down the path together, and even though the door closes behind them and the candlelight shining from inside disappears, the grins on their faces light up the night and illuminate their way.

***

Grandfather hovers awkwardly with them in the foyer for about three minutes before quickly bidding them goodnight. Amy blushes. Laurie just barely waits to hear the click of his grandfather's bedroom door closing before bursting into a laugh. She rolls her eyes, and nudges him playfully for laughing at her expense, which only makes him chuckle again. After a moment of stubborn defiance, she joins him. She can't help it; his laughter - his joy - is infectious.

As their laughter begins to die down, he leans down and kisses her once before reaching for her hand and taking a step towards the stairs.

"Shall we, my lady?"

"We shall, my lord," she murmurs lowly.

His eyes rake over her in a way she's rapidly learned the meaning of. Her pulse quickens, and in no time he's pulling her towards the stairs once again. They nearly jog as they make their way upstairs, and she almost trips over her skirts in their haste. They both laugh again, the sound filling the quiet halls of the Laurence residence.

Once their feet hit the second floor, however, they slow down. He turns his body towards her and takes her other hand, too, beginning to lead her to the bedroom. Her eyes never leave his face, a small smile just turning up the corners of her mouth. He only turns and drops her hands so that he can open the door, and then steps aside, letting her enter first. She walks in, and then pauses, letting her eyes wander around the room. She hears him come in behind her, and shut the door.

The room is dark, so she can’t make out details. She sees the moonlight shining in through the window, her luggage from Europe stacked in the far corner. Her eyes land on the large bed in the middle of the room; she can’t help it. Suddenly, his lips press softly against the nape of her neck, and her eyes close.

“You can make whatever changes you like,” he murmurs against her skin. “And not just in this room, either. I want you to make the whole house your own.”

“We’ll make it our own,” she tells him, opening her eyes and turning towards him. “The two of us.”

“Together,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

“Always, my lord,” she confirms, before pressing herself to him more closely. “But right now, I have other things on my mind.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully before leaning down to kiss her, a smile on his face.

“I like the way you think, my wife.”

Their lips touch in a gentle kiss that quickly becomes heated as he opens his lips and slips his tongue inside her mouth. She’s just settling into the kiss, and is about to move her fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat when he freezes, and pulls away from her abruptly.

She looks at him in confusion and disappointment, a frown on her face.

“Wait,” he tells her, looking over her shoulder. “Wait right here.”

She makes a noise of protest in the back of her throat as he moves from her, but doesn’t disturb him further; it’s as if he’s on a mission as he opens a closet near the back of the room. He moves a few odd things, opens a drawer and pulls something out of it before closing the closet and turning around.

He walks towards her, and she can sense a certain nervousness in the slowness of his steps. It’s dark, and she can’t tell what he’s holding to his chest.

“Amy,” he whispers when he stops in front of her, the look in his eyes serious, but full of love.

She’s about to ask him what’s going on when he presents the item in his hands to her. She can see it well enough now, and her breath catches.

It’s a jewelry box.

“Amy,” he says again, lowering to one knee. “My love, my life, my wife. My Amy.”

She can feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes, and she waits for him to continue, speechless.

“I know we’re already married,” he begins, “and that we’ve already made our promises and declarations. And maybe this seems a bit silly, but I want to do this, because I want you. I want all of you - your heart and your soul - everyday, for always.”

He fumbles with the box, but gets it open, and takes out the piece of jewelry inside. He reaches out for her left hand, drops the jewelry in her palm, and closes her fingers around it. He holds her fist there, placing the now-empty box on the floor and cradling her hand in both of his.

“I love you,” he declares ardently. “I love you, wholly and completely. With my entire being. And it would be the greatest honor - my life’s greatest work - to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll allow it.”

He releases her fist, and she opens her fingers, finding the most beautiful ring resting in her hand. It’s gorgeous - gorgeous - of course, but it wouldn’t matter even if it wasn’t. He could give her a ring made of paper and paste, and she’d still accept it with all the happiness in the world.

“It was my mother’s,” he tells her. “If - if you don’t like it, we can get something different. Something you can pick out yourself.”

“It’s perfect,” she assures him. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Yes?” he asks, a smile blossoming on his face.

“Yes,” she confirms breathlessly, a tear falling from the corner of her eye.

She hands the ring back to him, and she sees bewilderment flash across his face briefly before she presents him with her left hand.

“Will you, my lord?”

He grins again.

“It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

He takes her hand, kissing her bare ring finger once before sliding on the ring. She flexes her fingers; it’s a perfect fit.

She grabs his shoulders and nearly tugs him up into a standing position, and he laughs. She doesn’t give him time to recover before she’s on him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. He kisses her back, moves her until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Now, Mrs. Laurence,” he says, and she smiles against his mouth. “I do believe we were in the middle of something before I so rudely interrupted us.”

She pulls back from him and hums, tapping her finger against her chin.

“I can’t seem to remember what it was, Mr. Laurence.”

“Well, then,” he says, pushing on her shoulders gently but purposefully until she falls backwards. She yelps and then laughs as her back hits the mattress. “I suppose I’ll have to remind you.”

He goes to crawl on top of her, but she holds him at arms’ length briefly, her hands on his face. She beams up at him, her new ring glimmering in the moonlight.

“I love you, Laurie,” she murmurs, her fingers running down the bridge of his nose before landing on his lips.

He kisses her fingertips before answering.

“As I love you, Amy.”

They smile at each other, the joyful energy between them palpable. She pulls on him once again, collapsing him on top of her, and they continue on together into the night.

send me a number and a pairing (preferably laurie x amy) and i'll write you a mini fic!

#amy x laurie #laurie x amy #little women #little women 2019 #amy march #theodore laurence #god i'm long winded #there was a whole other section i wanted to add to this but it would've put it over 2k words #anyways ilu anon i hope u enjoy this!#anons are beautiful #thank you for the ask!#long post

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erismerald · 3 years

Text

𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 (Jacob Frye x reader) 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2

Hello creed, I bring you here the second chapter of my Jacob Frye fanfic, I hope you like it and maybe I would like to remind you that my requests are always open in case someone is interested!

Without further ado, stay safe, and happy reading!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Fluff and a bit of teasing ;)

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3953

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝟏𝟖𝟔𝟖

Your head hurt a little, and your vision was blurred, you felt moving but you were still, you looked around, the environment you were in was different from the wet and scary street, with a little more effort, you tried to look for details that would help you identify where you were, you were on a train. ... but how? the room you were in was well decorated, you knew that style well, your nanny was doing her best to decorate every part of the house with the rustic and elegant theme of the Victorian era, so none of that had been a dream?

You sat up in bed, feeling your body weakened, you took a deep breath and gained strength to pull yourself together, the clothes you were wearing were different, it was a nightgown, made of cotton, all black with gold details on the sleeves, after all you had really traveled in time. ... but how was that possible, one moment you were with your friends and the next you were alone in the world, flash all the memories of last night had burst into your mind, the dark street, the rain... the man who tried to abuse you, and your savior, who was he? was it him that brought you here? doubts hovered empty in your consciousness, you looked at your wrists small black marks tinged your skin, you felt pain when the palm of your fingers ventured to touch them, without realizing it you let out a 'auch', you couldn't control the fear you felt, you were alone. You wanted your grandmother by your side to calm you down, you grabbed your knees and pulled them up to your chest, and laid your head down lightly letting the tears run down your face, feeling them fall on your hands, you felt small, you felt abandoned.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened revealing a woman, still quite young she must have been in her early twenties, she smiled sweetly at you, no matter how hard you tried to hide under the blanket, that smile warmed your heart and made you smile back.

"I see you're awake at last" She approached with a tray of food that she set down on top of the couch where you were lying "My name is-" she was interrupted by a man, you recognized him, he had been the one to save you, your heart pounded hard when your gaze met.

"Ahhh finally, I'll be able to sleep in my room again" he laughed sitting down in the armchair opposite you, you bowed your head in shame

"Jacob! The girl just woke up, and you're already being a real jerk, I can't believe you're my brother sometimes" The girl said turning her attention back to you " Dear ignore him, he's just a jerk, how do you feel?"

"I... I'm confused just... I feel sick and hot" your voice came out shaky, you were nervous.

"It's because of the fever the doctor said you would feel like this for a few days, but that you would be fine, what's your name?" The girl asked meekly, sitting down in front of you, your gaze shifted a little to the man sitting in front of you, he seemed asleep.

"M-my name is Y/n L/n" again your voice betrayed you, as you said your name the girl looked shocked but interested in you.

"Your family is a great help to our brotherhood, it is an honor to have you here with us!" The girl said with a gentle smile kissing her lips, a feeling of hope embraced your body, would there still be a way back home? But in a flash, you recalled what she had said.

"M-my family? how do you know them?" you asked pulling your body forward-facing the two people sitting in front of you.

"The L/N family has always been a great help in training young assassins" Assassins? What? you didn't want to believe what you heard, all the memories were joining the truth about your family, the story your grandmother told you and you preferred not to believe was really true? It wasn't possible, but why now? why now that you had decided to find out who you were? Why now that you have finally traveled to London? And who were the people in front of you? The girl stood up and stretched her hand towards you "My name is Evie Frye, and that idiot over there is my twin brother Jacob Frye" the words that came out of her lips were like glass tearing your mind, you felt dizzy as if you couldn't breathe right, was all that true? Wasn't it possible? Was it? But how did you end up in their time? Was your grandmother right, weren't they just children's stories?

"How is it possible?" you whispered, both brothers looked at you curiously, " No, it can't be real, I must be dreaming... "Your gaze was fixed on your hands resting on the thin cloth that covered your body, crystal clear tears came out of your eyes, Evie seeing your reaction to finding out who they were hugged your body and pulled you in, you hid your face to her shoulder, letting the sadness leave your heart.

A few minutes passed, but it seemed like hours, your body was still weak from crying, in 18 years of life you had never cried so much, you took a deep breath, hugging Evie's body tightly.

"I know very well who you are" you finally said, Evie knelt down beside the sofa looking puzzled at you.

"How do you know us, love?" Jacob said getting up from the armchair and staring at you, he was much taller than you, and you felt a little embarrassed to feel his gaze fixed on yours, in one small movement you looked away from Evie, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage to expose your whole story.

"My name is Y/n L/n but I am not from here... in fact until a few minutes ago I believed that you two were part of the stories my grandmother used to tell me when I was younger... "I know well who my family is, I just didn't know their true position in this brotherhood, my grandmother used to tell me stories of the Frye twins and the adventures of the assassins to free London from the grasp of the Templars, but I always believed that you were a lie, I am not from here, nor from this time and I honestly don't know how I got here," you said between sobs, raising one of your hands to your face wiping the tears that were falling "I don't even know why I came here, for one second I was in 2020 and the next I traveled back in time to here. .. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY! I WAS JUST TRYING TO FIND OUT WHO I WAS, WHY DID I HAVE TO VISIT LONDON AND IGNORE ALL THE WARNINGS MY GRANDMOTHER GAVE ME? WHY DID SHE LET ME COME? DID SHE KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" Your crying turned into anger, you felt like your body was going to collapse, you felt dizzy, everything was becoming blurry but something broke your fall and held you tight, with the tremendous effort you looked up to see what had happened, the next thing you knew you were in Jacob's arms, he protected you from falling or passing out, you wanted to talk but all you could say was 'ahh' or 'I...'.

"Okay love I know it's a lot to process but you're not alone here, you have us now, we'll take care of you," Jacob said stroking your hair and holding you close to his body, the beating of his heart helped you calm down. "Now what do you mean 2020? We can tell you're not from here but did this happen? Evie?" Jacob called his sister's name they both looked at each other, and after a few seconds, Evie had an idea.

"Let's wait for you to recover so you can tell us everything straight so we can understand what's going on, but..." Evie stopped sighing "Until you can get back home we have to make you unnoticed, we have to make you mix with the people of our time, only then you will be safe, and since your family is a big influence here in London we can visit them and try to ask for help, what do you think?" Evie smiled at you and you smiled back, you felt your eyes grow tired, and without much effort, you fell asleep.

Your eyes opened slowly, it was hard to sleep with the storm of thoughts that rambled through your mind, occupying every neuron, it was still night, you looked at the clock on the desk, it was 4 am, still so early and you were already so awake, you couldn't deny that you felt anxious and nervous with what was happening, Your body moved from side to side on the sofa where you slept, the rain hit the glass loudly, the sound of the wheels on the rails, the wind whistled lulling your body, but you couldn't sleep anymore, the stress, the fear, the frustration of not being home, it was agonizing, you stared at the ceiling, thinking, those memories were still very fresh in your mind, it would take a while to accept.

With a little effort you pushed your body up, sitting down and crossing your legs, the window above your head was splashed with raindrops that slid with speed, the landscape was beautiful, the city lights in the background made your heart beat faster, Even in another epoch London was still London, still a beautiful, attractive city, without you realizing it, a weak smile broke out on your lips, it was ironic that you wanted to visit a place so much and when you did it was as if it vanished through your fingers.

You observed the room and noticed your bag lying on the side of the sofa, with one hand you pulled yourself towards you and took out your drawing notebook, you appreciated the picture sticked on the leather cover, it was your grandfather who had made it, he made a dozen of them just for you, every time the pages of one finished, another one came on the scene, with canvas for more adventures and emotions, since you were very young that writing and drawing were a way to represent your emotions and represent the world you lived in.

With a few gestures you let your hand flow across the white page, drawing and sketching empty emotions but full of comfort, looking on the bright side, when you return you will always have something to show your grandmother, a memory, the sound of the pencil scratching the sheet of paper, soothed your heart so full of bitterness, 'so this is what it's like to discover who I am? Is this what you wanted me to see grandma?' you thought to yourself, is this the destiny that was destined for you?

You sighed and let your hand fall on your thigh, you looked forward, and saw Jacob's coat resting on the back of the armchair in front of you, a wave of warmth and embarrassment invaded your chest, you felt strange every time you thought about him, he was mysterious but gentle and protective, when you felt his body wrap around yours it seemed that they had connected to each other, and all the negative energies and scary thoughts disappeared, your heartbeat as he did, your breath calmed down as you felt his fingers tangle in your hair to comfort you, without a second thought, you began to draw his face on that once white page, you remembered every detail of his face, the two scars, his unshaven beard, his hazel eyes, his lips. ... he was an attractive man, you would never in your life think of meeting him, but now that you know him, he was something you didn't want to forget, you put the notebook against your chest and smiled like a little child, feeling butterflies playing with your belly.

But something interrupted the moment, that moment when you were no longer present on earth, you were lost, hidden in a world of thoughts:

" Rough night?" A voice coming from behind you, scared every inch of your body, you put your hand on your chest letting the notebook fall to the floor, you recognized the owner behind that hoarse and funny voice, Jacob laughed a little "I didn't want to scare you, love, I just came to check if you were okay and since I saw you were awake I decided to come in" Jacob said sitting next to you, his gaze crossed with yours. "How are you feeling?"

"I-im okay, and don't worry you didn't scare me, I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't even see you coming...." you replied shakily, like a leaf in the middle of a storm, his smile was directed at you, you could feel your face getting warm, it was obvious you were nervous, but why?

Jacob sat in the armchair in front of you, he looked tired, but more importantly, he was completely flushed, your gaze was fixed on his body, his hair was dripping, his breathing was racing, your heart was beating unregulated as if you were in a sprint, your breathing became heavy for a few moments.

"Do you like what you see love?" Jacob teased, bending his body forward, you jumped a little when hearing his voice, and quickly looked the other way, the rain was still beating strongly on the window, but the train had stopped, maybe because of the bad weather? "I was just messing with you, I just came from a mission, and well... since you are sleeping in my room and my stuff is here, I came straight to you." He laughed a little, his laugh was wonderful.

Even not looking directly at him you could feel his smile, unbelievably you were feeling calm again, your breathing was quiet, but you felt Jacob's gaze on your body, something captivated him about you, but he still couldn't know what it was, maybe because you were exotic? Because you were new to him, his gaze was fixed on your neck, the necklace that belonged to him was now adorning your neck.

"I wanted to thank you, Mister Frye, thank you for saving me from that... you know, I wanted to thank you earlier but, I've been busy with my mind-" Suddenly you felt his fingers slip up your neck to your jawline turning your face to face his, his curious gaze was focused on the necklace, he smiled.

"How funny I have a necklace just like that hanging around my neck, matching aren't we" Again his laughter filled the room, you couldn't contain yourself, and a small giggle broke out from your lips "Oh you do laugh too, you have a very adorable laugh" Your face flared, a pink color graced your cheeks as you heard his voice, he was so close. ... his scent intoxicated you, as if you were drunk on his scent alone, you felt your eyes getting heavier, but something woke you up, a fallen drop of Jacob's hair fell on your cheek.

"Shouldn't you take off your wet clothes, or at least dry yourself? Mister Frye you might catch a cold" the words escaped from your lips, the concern was explicit on your face, Jacob found it adorable, but he laughed a little, confused you looked at him pouting, you were just trying to help and he still laughed.

"Darling, my clothes are all here and if you haven't noticed, you're here, it would be inappropriate to undress in front of such a delicate lady, besides I'm used to it, after missions I usually go to some pub to celebrate with my rooks but Evie asked me to keep an eye on you, and I didn't want to leave you alone either," Jacob said sitting back in the chair.

You blushed but nodded, he was right, it wouldn't be appropriate, but something wandered in your mind, he didn't want to leave you alone? Jacob's watchful eyes noticed your notebook lying on the floor, he reached out to pick it up, you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame hit you like a stone, no, a bunch of them.

His fingers slid across the pages looking at the drawings, especially the one you had done the day you arrived in London, he looked like a child watching a cartoon on TV, he was mesmerized.

"Ahm Mister Frye, may I ask you something?" you asked as he looked at your notebook, he nodded without saying a word. "What was this mission you went on?" his gaze was still focused on the drawings, but he took a deep breath and answered finally.

"Y/n you know what an Assassin does right?" He asked, you nodded, waiting for his answer to continue "I was assigned to kill templars and free London from the disgusting and profiteering clutches of theme, today I helped rescue some of my rooks who were taken hostage in the middle of one of their rounds when they warned me,

I ran immediately to save them, they are like a family

family, and I as their leader have to help and protect them.

His words were like melodies, he sounded just like the way your vein described, ruthless, brave, gentle and playful, fearless, you smiled, was it possible for a man like that to be true? Was it even possible that your childhood hero was right there in front of you watching your drawings? Was it really true that after many years of hearing about him, you were having a conversation with him? You felt so confident that for a few minutes you forgot that you were stuck in 1800.

"You are really brave Jacob..." Finally, you said, slowly removing the necklace from your neck and holding it between your fingers, circling it from side to side. "You know I spent years adoring you... wanting to be like you and Evie, my grandmother spent years telling me about your adventures, I remember when I was younger and climbing up on the roof, jumping from window to window pretending to be you, pretending to be with you, and well. ... years later here I am in front of you, talking to my idol, and I still don't know how to react to this situation" You laughed a little sarcastically. You were nervous but you knew you could trust him, when you looked ahead again his gaze went through every detail of the drawing you had made of him, he seemed excited.

"I thank you Y/n, for idolizing me when you were younger, it must come as a shock to you, finally meeting me hum?" He said with a tinny smirk on his lips.

"W-well it is but I think you can even exceed my expectations Mister Frye" You laughed nervously, you tried to avoid looking at him, you were afraid you wouldn't know how to react.

"How do you feel about your family belonging to the brotherhood?" He questioned you as he put your notebook down on the desk next to him, you sighed, honestly you didn't even know what to say, or what to think about it, of course, you knew for many years that your family came from a long line of assassins but, you preferred to believe that it was a lie or just another story invented by your grandmother to entertain your creative mind during the most starry nights, you never imagined that they were real, and you still thought that taking someone's life for the sake of a brotherhood or to protect others was wrong, and you didn't want to be associated with that, so you forgot that story, and went on with your life, but now that you knew that they were real, you were a little afraid to confront them.

"I... honestly I don't know how to answer you, when I was younger, I heard the stories told by my grandmother over and over again, but I never thought that they were real, and even when she talked about the brotherhood I... preferred to ignore it, in my view, it isn't right to kill someone, I thought that the assassins were cruel monsters who had no feelings, so I never really wanted to know that part of the story, but I confess that I am afraid to confront them tomorrow..." Jacob seemed to understand what you were feeling his eyes were downcast, you could hear his heavy breathing, you felt a little worried, would you said something wrong, but something surprised you when his gaze met yours you could see a little fear and sadness in his gaze.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" Jacob asked getting up and walking towards you again, you felt your body harden like a stone, your heart was beating uncontrollably, you couldn't think of anything to answer him, he knelt in front of you, still with his gaze fixed on yours, you couldn't even think, he was very close to you, his hand wrapped around yours and took the necklace you were holding between your fingers "Your grandmother gave you this didn't she? and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I... and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I..." Jacob's hand moved closer to your neck his fingers slid across your skin easily, you sighed deeply as you felt his skin in contact with yours, Jacob smiled, it was funny to see your submissive reaction to him, with a small gesture, he placed the necklace around your neck, caressing the back of it, but before he left, his breath-focused on your ear and with a whisper, he made your world crumble.

"Don't take this necklace off, so I'll always know why you're here"

He stood up and grabbed his coat, you were completely paralyzed, you were blushing, your breathing was heavy and panting, your gaze seemed glazed on him, he smiled and walked towards the door, but before disappearing into the darkness his voice echoed once again in the room "you better get some more rest Love tomorrow we have a long day, it was nice talking to you miss L/n". And with that he left you there alone, your heart pounding, panting, and nervous, your only thought was his voice softly caressing your ear.

You let your body fall back, staring at the window, and the rain sliding on it, you didn't realize that the train was moving again, you just let your mind wander, what would have happened if he stayed here?

Feelings and thoughts left you awake for the rest of the night, before you knew it the birds were already singing, the first rays of sunlight illuminated your smiling face.

#jacob frye x reader #evie frye x reader #evie frye #assassin's apprentice #assassin's creed brotherhood #assassin's creed syndicate #uncharted #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #assassin's creed #jacob frye #eivor #life is strange #until dawn #video games #detroit connor #detroit become human

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blackkatmagic · 3 years

Note

In labyrinths of reflections?! So excited!

I would love to see a drabble of Harley and Ivy reunion after Marc helps Ivy out of prison. ^^

There's ice cream melting over her fingers, a buzz of green in her veins, and a darkened shack in the middle of the park that’s filled with the sound of hitched breaths.

Ivy tightens her grip on the Arkham-standard prison clothes, takes a breath. The trees around her bend inwards, shivering, and she has to close her eyes against the surge of hope and relief and vicious glee that’s beating like a tattoo in her chest.

The Joker is dead. The Joker is dead. He’s dead and gone and an old god ate his heart, so it’s safe to say that he’s never coming back.

Just for that, she would walk barefoot over broken glass and take a swim in weed killer, the moment Moon Knight asked her to.

Harley is crying, and Ivy should likely feel worse, should mourn the pain if not the man. But she doesn’t, she can't. Harley is free of him, Gotham is free of him, and it’s a fierce, bloody, vicious joy in Ivy’s chest, the knowledge that he died and suffered. Not just for what he did to Harley, but—

That doesn’t matter. He’s dead, because Moon Knight killed him. Moon Knight is like her, like them, mentally ill but forged into a weapon, functionality and purpose and intent, and he killed the Joker. Harley is free because of Moon Knight.

A muffled, trembling sound, and Ivy pushes forward, through the darkened doorway hung with wilted vines and into the moon-striped interior.

There's no movement, no sign she’s been seen. Harley is curled in the corner where Ivy’s bed is half-collapsed and covered in the wild tangle of her citrus trees run rampant, face tucked into her drawn-up knees, her hair down. She’s in loose clothes, Ivy’s baggiest sleeping clothes huge on her small frame, and she’s not audibly crying, but she might as well be.

Silently, Ivy sets both cartons of half-melted ice cream down on the floor, then crosses the small shack and pulls herself up onto the listing mattress. Without pause, she leans in, wraps her arms around Harley as tightly as she can and just—breathes. Lets her hair hide them from the world, just for a moment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispers, and Harley’s breath catches on a sob. She grabs, hauls Ivy in and wraps her arms around her, and Ivy kisses her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her eye as Harley buries her face in her shoulder.

“Red,” she gets out, and the word cracks. “Red, Mr. J is dead. Someone killed him. I'm—I'm so relieved but I'm so sad, an’ I can't stop crying.”

Ivy never attacked the Joker, never confronted him. It would have made Harley angry, would have upset her, and Ivy could never risk losing her. Could never risk pushing her back to the Joker permanently, shutting down her one avenue of escape. She’d wanted to a thousand times, had thought about arranging accidents, or slipping him some poison, but—Harley is clever, and Ivy isn't a good enough actor to fool her. Harley would have realized what she’d done, and maybe the Joker would have been dead, but Ivy would have lost the one person she gives a damn about in the whole world. The trade-off was never worth it.

“I'm not sorry,” she whispers, not about to hide the truth. Harley already knows how she feels, anyway. “I'm glad. Him being dead makes me happy.”

Harley chokes on a sob, fingers bruising against Ivy’s skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Ivy doesn’t try to move, either, just leans in with a sigh, stroking Harley’s limp hair. “Moon Knight broke me out of Arkham,” she says quietly, and Harley stills, frozen, conflicted. There's a long pause, and then a watery breath, and Harley lifts her head.

“’S good,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand. “I know—I know how much you hate bein’ away from the sun, Red. I was gonna try to break you out, but the Bats were keepin’ an eye on me, an’ then Mr. J—”

“I know,” Ivy says, and shifts sideways, pulling Harley down onto the sagging mattress with her. The broken frame creaks dangerously, but Harley snuggles closer, tucks Ivy’s head under her chin and hangs on the with desperation of someone drowning. Gently, Ivy strokes her back, closing her eyes and thinking of a flare of white in the darkness, glowing eyes under the dark shadows of a hood.

When she’d first seen Moon Knight in the hallway, she’d expected a henchman come to break out their master, or maybe a new mercenary hired for a hit. Had only thought about charming him, tempting him in and then using him to escape. And maybe some part of her, impossible to turn off, is still thinking about the benefits of knowing him and the advantages he can provide, but—

He’s like them. He was in an institute at thirteen, and Ivy remembers all too well the long hours sitting in a psychologist’s office when she was a child, head bowed as she listed to the man and her mother talk. Remembers six months in the hospital, alone, desperate, after Jason Woodrue experimented on her.

The incident drove her insane, the files say. Ivy knows; she’s looked them up, torn through them to see what the Bats whisper about her in the darkness, and she’s seen those words printed starkly in black enough times to be burned into her brain. The incident drove her insane, like everyone in the world is one tragedy away from becoming mentally ill. Like Ivy was just sad and angry and that alone was enough to make her unstable. Like being in Arkham will fix her, or do anything but make her angrier. None of the doctors there give a damn about the patients, about anyone, and the ones who try turn out like Harley.

Moon Knight breaking her out and talking to her like a person, looking at her like she’s real and reasonable and not either a crazed villain or a mindless sex object did more to help steady her than her whole stint in Arkham. A little bit of understanding, a touch of his strange, brusque respect, and Ivy felt like she could breathe.

He’s like them, and he does what he thinks is right, not what the laws tell him to do. He’s like them, a little broken and a little crazy and a little good.

With her eyes closed, Ivy can feel the whole of Gotham breathing, the roots beneath the city and the branches spread through it, the weeds creeping up through the cracks in the sidewalk and hundreds of thousands of stately old trees, young and verdant trees, ivy and roses and flowers carefully trimmed and confined. She can feel each step that crushes the grass, the careless cruelty of a tree cut down, the gasping breaths of plants trying to breathe through the pollution. And, if she focuses, she can find a heavy pair of boots, moving more lightly than most across the park. The brush of a white cloak, the way he feels like moonlight on the grass, how the trees bend towards his presence. Like he’s carrying fresh air with him, as clean and cool as a wind across the desert, completely untouched by the smog and rot of Gotham around him.

Moon Knight, she thinks, and smiles, thin and wicked against Harley’s skin. Tightens her arms around Harley, then shoves, rolling them over and straddling Harley, knees locked against her ribs. Harley gasps, but she reaches for Ivy, tangles her fingers in Ivy’s hair and pulls, and Ivy kisses her, kisses her, kisses her, and never wants to let her up for air.

Moon Knight gave her this. Gave them this, even if Harley will never see it as the gift it is. He killed the Joker, set her and Harley both free, and Ivy’s laugh vibrates low in her throat as she cups Harley’s face between her hands.

Like them, she thinks. Moon Knight is one of theirs, one of hers. Ivy’s never been good at limits; everything she’s ever let go of has claw marks in it, and she’s willful, wicked, doesn’t have or want a code of honor of any sort. But—

“I think,” she whispers against Harley’s lips, still smiling, “that I just found my very own knight in shining armor.”

Harley laughs, too, even if hers is a little watery. “Don’cha mean your own Knight Light?” she jokes, and Ivy snorts and kisses her again.

She’ll keep one eye on Moon Knight, whenever he appears. Batman doesn’t like their kind, and he’ll like that Moon Knight broke her out of Arkham even less. Ivy doesn’t accept anyone easily, doesn’t take to strangers, but watching Moon Knight in the park, she felt…different. Wanted something other than to walk away and leave him behind. He’s an ally and an unknown and a god on earth, and Ivy knows a little bit more about that than she should.

He’ll need them eventually. That favor Ivy owes him will be called in. And—it’s not an entirely selfless thing. A steppingstone, maybe, to draw him closer, to pull him in.

Moon Knight doesn’t realize it yet, but if he tries to leave them—leave her—behind, he’s going to have claw marks in him, too.

[On AO3]

#my writing #harlivy #dc #marvel #marc spector #harley quinn #pamela isley #Anonymous #kat answers

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guardianofthepeanutwrites · 3 years

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Skirts and dresses Part 3

Here is part 3 ! Part1, Part 2, Part 4 and Part 5

Tw: There is a discussion about someone being beaten for being gay in the 40s. It's not graphic, but if it triggers you, please do not read!

To my Neko and my Powerpuff Girls: I love you all! Many thanks to Gypsywoman13 for beta-reading and helping me with the moodboard. I think I’m getting better at them?

Confused Steve

Peter looked at the two printed pictures Mr. Stark his dad had left on the desk in his room at the compound.

The pictures were old, probably around 30 years old, and the colors were a bit washed out, but Peter had no doubt the model was a young Tony Stark. It was also clear to Peter that both pictures had been taken on the spot; genuine moments of a younger Tony Stark’s life.

The first picture was Tony looking in a mirror, trying to put some make-up on; he was bent over the sink with his tongue poking out. Peter had to admit, even if it hurt him deeply, that the skirt did indeed do something sinful to his dad’s ass. Peter promised himself to not look at that picture ever again.

In the second picture was a younger version of the billionaire’s friend, James Rhodes. Rhodey, with his jeans and MIT sweatshirt, had one arm around Tony’s waist and a colored goblet in his other. Tony had a nice little white dress that Peter would never dare wear, but had suited Tony like a glove. The two were talking to each other and laughing quietly.

They looked so happy; free. Peter brought the picture to his heart, knowing what the gift really meant. Those pictures would never be leaked by his dad because those are private little moments of Tony Stark’s youth. Some people would kill for the pictures, and Peter was going to keep them as one of his most treasured possessions.

After Peter found a frame for the picture, it rejoined the last piece of his beloved skirt on his shelf.

Peter was not supposed to walk around the compound in his new purple dress, but most of the other Avengers were still on their last mission, Natasha wasn’t supposed to steal his change of clothes to go to an emergency debrief. Still, here Peter was, in his purple dress, trying to get back to his room before anyone could see him.

However, Parker’s luck was a thing, sadly.

“Peter? What-”

Peter felt dread sink in his stomach when he heard Steve Rogers’s voice call his name. Peter wanted to ignore the man, but he knew the Captain well enough to know that there was no point in doing that. Peter stopped walking and tried to brace himself before he turned with a smile on his face.

“Oh, hi, Steve. Fancy seeing you here?” Peter could tell that his smile was off, but he didn’t care.

Steve was staring at Peter’s naked legs, frowning. “Peter, what are you wearing?” He sounded very confused like there hadn’t been any Drag Queens in 1940 that blew up Nazis while still wearing their fancy dresses.

“It’s a dress.”

Some weeks ago, Peter would have been crying already, but Natasha, Pepper, and Tony’s support meant the world to Peter, and they had helped him be more confident. So, Steve’s demeanor started to grate on Peter’s nerves.

Steve’s frown only deepened. “But, Peter, men do not wear dresses! Those are for women.” Peter felt humiliation color his cheeks.

“They do, Captain. And even then, what I wear outside work is none of your business. Now, if you would excuse me...” Peter would never know how he managed to quit the scene calmy, but he would have cried if he hadn’t left the corridor fast enough.

Statistically, Peter knew that there would always be people who disapproved of who Peter was. Peter simply had hoped that no one on the team would be one of them.

The moment his door closed behind him, Peter collapsed.

Peter didn’t know how long he had stayed on the ground when someone knocked at the door he was still sitting against. Peter ignored the knocking and just let his head rest on his arms. His tears had stopped falling some hours ago and Peter had no energy left to give to anyone else.

Peter was startled when Steve started to talk at the other side of the door.

“Peter, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing. Could you let me in, please?” Peter closed his eyes hard, not answering. He heard Steve sigh, then a thump that made the door shake. Steve was now sitting on the other side of the door. “Ok, I get it. I was-Listen I have no excuse for what I said. I was wrong.”

Peter could feel the tears falling down his cheeks again and hated it.

“I-The world changed a lot since I was your age, you know. It’s not that I am against men wearing dresses, it’s-” Steve sighed heavily. “I had this friend, his name was Bill. He never really fit the mold...I can see that now. It’s something that I have learned since living in this century, actually. Billy he...he loved men. And that was not something you could display back then.”

Peter’s breathing hitched; knowing where this was going. It still wasn’t easy to proudly be out, but it was nothing compared to what it used to be.

“They...They found Billy beaten to a pulp. I-I knew Billy used to, you know, with Bucky, sometimes, and I got so scared for him. Again, it’s no excuse, but I just wasn’t as strong as Bucky. All I could do was make sure no one would know that Bucky liked gals and pals. I probably was an ass to him too, actually. I was always reminding him not to do this or not to wear that. So, today when I saw you in a dress...and Peter, you are part of the team, and of this family, and once again I felt scared.” Steve’s voice became very low at the end of his monologue. Peter probably wouldn’t have heard him, if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

Peter slowly stood and opened the door, making Steve fall on his back, surprised. Steve probably had been lost in memories of old friends while talking. Steve started to sit back up, when Peter let himself fall on his knees to hug Steve.

“I am sorry you had to live through that, and I understand your point of view, but next time, I will punch you.” Steve hugged him back, chuckling lightly. Peter couldn’t stop thinking how lucky they both were to be enhanced because they would have crushed the other if they weren’t.

“Don’t worry, if it ever comes to that, I think Nat and Tony will kill me first.”

Peter frowned before he realized what Steve was telling him. His dad and Natasha had threatened Steve because he had made Peter cry.

“What- God, how do they even know?” Peter wanted to crawl in his bed and never leave it again. He was an adult for fuck’s sake, he didn’t need them to babysit him.

“I think it was FRIDAY who told them, but I can’t be sure. But, hey, Pete...they were right, I was being an asshole. And I’m really so-” Steve wasn’t able to finish his explanation because, after breaking their hug, Peter put his hand on his mouth.

“It’s ok, let’s pretend this never actually happened, ok? It’s done, and I’m sure it won’t happen again, will it?” Peter simply lifted one eyebrow like he had seen Nat and his dad do hundreds of times.

“No, well, I mean, I was born a long time ago...Maybe you could explain to me some things that I don’t understand? Educate me, I guess? ” Steve looked self-conscious about asking that while he massaged his neck with his left hand.

“I would be honored to bring the great Captain America up to date to the modern world.” Peter winked, cheekily, before he got back to his feet and helped Steve to do the same.

Steve groaned something that sounded suspiciously like the word ‘brat’. But Steve would never dare... so, Peter must have misunderstood.

“Oh, before you leave, can I ask you a question? Does Bucky really like men and women?” Steve rolled his eyes and, with a pat on Peter’s shoulder, simply left the room.

Somewhere in the compound, later that night, Bucky punched Steve for making Peter cry, even if he had absolutely no idea what had happened. Steve refused to tell.

Thank you to everyone that leaves a comment or a heart !

@starkeraddictbaby

If you want to be tagged for the next part, please DM me or leave a comment

#winterspider #read the tw #peter parker #steve rogers #5+1 things #Still 6+1 tho #fanfiction #skirts and dresses

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blackstonesandtrapnest · 3 years

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Hiya! I have a seduce me request? I was wondering if you could do a Sam x Reader where they've been really stressed/swapped with work and it's taken a toll on their mental health but Sam is there for them?

Ok sure I can do that! Glad to see another Seduce Me fan! They’re such a rarity these days I swear :(

Another day, another life saved.

Being a firefighter was a difficult job especially for a woman like yourself but you were determined to prove yourself and you knew you were destined to live a life of service. One of the best things about your job was being around the love of your life.

Sam Anderson.

He was a cop with the Chicago Police Department so you always ran into him whenever your team responded to an incident. Things between you two were rocky at first and you guys definitely butted heads more than once but it wasn't until Sam saved your life that things eventually cooled down to the point where you could say that you were falling for the incubus.

One thing led to another and you two got a place together. You also met his brothers and got along quite well with them to the point that it made Sam jealous. You always struggled to fit in and never really had a place that you felt like you could call home. And now you finally found it within the Chicago Fire Department and with Sam and his brothers.

Unfortunately being a firefighter came with various struggles especially mental ones. Lately the calls that your team had been getting were becoming more and more dangerous as well as stressful. Even with your determination and willpower, you were starting to feel the effects and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were starting to show them too. It was starting to negatively affect your relationship with Sam even!

The straw that broke the camel’s back came when your team was responding to a fire in an apartment building and you just so happened to be helping another team which you had no issues with since some of your friends were on it as well.

You were on the rooftop with a few other firefighters and you noticed a pregnant woman had come out and was starting to stagger towards you but because of how fragile the wood was, you yelled at her and ordered her to stay where she was so she wouldn’t fall through the roof.

Unfortunately she was panicking too much to listen and a firefighter who happened to be your best friend ran towards her and pushed her out of the way towards you only to fall through the roof himself. The very sight traumatized you and when you heard of his inevitable death, you were even more numb.

The tears didn’t come until the funeral which you had participated in to honor your comrade. Sam, who had been there for you the entire time, pulled you aside once you two got home and asked one simple question that broke the dam.

“Are you alright?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You let out an anguished cry and would’ve collapsed onto your knees if Sam hadn’t caught you. You sobbed and wailed as Sam simply held you and didn’t say anything while rubbing your back.

When you were done crying, Sam kissed your forehead and gave you a toothy grin.

“I guess this is a good time to reveal what I had planned for us.”

After blowing your nose, you gave Sam a quizzical look that made him chuckle. Hearing him laugh always brightened your day no matter how dark it seemed.

“I was thinking that since we have a lot of vacation time saved up, maybe we could take a week or two off and go somewhere special? You’ve been pretty worked up and stressed out lately. There’s nothing wrong with taking a break every now and then.”

Hearing Sam’s idea made you tear up again but you weren’t gonna keep crying! Nope nope nope!

“You mean I was acting bitchy. Be honest. Yeah I could use a nice vacation. Where are we going anyways?”

Sam laughed again and kissed you gently. “That’s a surprise doofus. You’ll just have to wait and see. You weren’t acting bitchy. You were just stressed out. I get it.”

Of course he did. After all, Sam was a first responder just like you were. But he was able to manage the stress of it all far better than you ever could and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy him for it.

You just hugged Sam and held him tightly which he did in return.

“I love you Sam. Thank you for being there for me and putting up with my bullshit.”

“I love you too doofus. You do so much for me and I wanna do the same for you. That’s another reason why I planned this vacation. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

Hearing Sam’s words made you tear up again but this time, they were tears of happiness.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I could ask you the same thing doofus.”

As long as you had Sam by your side, you knew that you could conquer anything and everything. He was your one true partner and you knew that he was there to stay no matter what.

It was you and Sam against the world and so far, you two were winning.

#seduce me #seduce me the otome #sam #aomaris #seduce me imagines #sam x reader #seduce me scenario #answering lalala

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pet-genius · 3 years

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The Death Eaters as a Cult - Part 2

Follow-up post to this post, exploring the DE dynamics and speculating on how Voldemort got them on his hook. Trigger warning: Cult abuse, I suppose.

The Death Eaters’ behavior at the graveyard reflects what was expected of them during the first war. LV refers to his Death Eaters as his “true family”, and yet:

Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

“Master... Master...” he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle’s grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.

If this is how anyone in your family has EVER treated you, go to the police. No: Death Eaters were expected to crawl on their knees and to kiss their master’s robe. He had enforced such discipline that they all remembered their place in the circle 13 years later. He expected to be worshiped and humiliated his own people.

He also tortures them, for their failure to try to find him and resurrect him:

“It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed....”

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort’s feet. “Master!” he shrieked, “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!” Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand. “Crucio!”

He also manipulates them:

“Get up, Avery,” said Voldemort softly. “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years... I want thirteen years’ repayment before I forgive you.

Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?”

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

“You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”

Why does LV feel that Peter owes him anything? Peter resurrected him. But pleasing LV is impossible. He needs his followers to be driven by loyalty, not fear - they are not even allowed to be self-interested in the sense of wanting not to die. Peter might deserve pain, but one must ask why Voldemort of all people feels this way - Peter never hurt him.

Then, he expects Peter to show gratitude for what he would have had in the first place, had Voldemort not taken it from him: a hand. Peter falls for it:

“Yes, Master,” moaned Wormtail, “please, Master... please...”

“Yet you helped return me to my body,” said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. “Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers....”

[...]

“My Lord,” he whispered. “Master... it is beautiful... thank you... thank you.”

That’s how Voldemort rewards his helpers: He stops the pain he himself inflicted.

These are Death Eaters with obvious vulnerabilities for Voldemort to exploit:

Barty Crouch Jr. has a very dysfunctional relationship with his dad. Sirius: “Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy... then he sent him straight to Azkaban”.

Voldemort clearly took advantage of this, played up the parallel between Tom Riddle Sr. and Barty Crouch Sr., and BCJ has clearly come to see him as something of a father figure:

“I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter... closer than a son....”

[...]

“The Dark Lord and I,” said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, “have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers... very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure... the very great pleasure... of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!”

Bellatrix’s vulnerability is obvious: She’s in love with Voldemort. He is constantly toying with her, promising intimacy and reward, but never delivering. He only uses her: Her vault, her duelling skills, her home. It’s interesting that she’s the only female DE outside of Alecto. Perhaps she was insecure about being female, or felt oppressed by her marriage, or perhaps she was failing to live up to her family’s expectation that she make pureblood babies, and Voldemort promised her a future where she’d be free of these constraints.

She’s supposed to be the closest one to him, the one he cares about the most, yet she too fears his wrath. Following the prophecy’s destruction:

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.

“Master, you should know —”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”

“But Master — he is here — he is below —”

Voldemort paid no attention.

He really should have paid attention to her warning that Dumbledore was coming. Instead, he threatened her even as she was begging forgiveness for something that was not her fault.

The chapter Spinner’s End shows how giftedVoldemort is at spreading enmity and discord among his followers. Not only do they not all know each other, the ones who do can never conspire against their master, because of the atmosphere of distrust.

“Before I answer you — oh yes, Bellatrix, I am going to answer! You can carry my words back to the others who whisper behind my back, and carry false tales of my treachery to the Dark Lord! Before I answer you, I say, let me ask a question in turn. Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of those questions? And do you really think that, had I not been able to give satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?”

She hesitated.

“I know he believes you, but...”

“You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?”

He is accusing Bella of heresy. He has clearly learned a thing or two about manipulation, having spent his entire adult life either under Voldemort or under Dumbledore. He presents himself as selfish for staying with Dumbledore, and he presents Voldemort’s words as gospel: “The Dark Lord does not complain that I stayed, so I do not see why you do.” He also takes pride in being closer to him and more useful:

“But what use have you been?” sneered Bellatrix. “What useful information have we had from you?”

“My information has been conveyed directly to the Dark Lord,” said Snape. “If he chooses not to share it with you —”

“He shares everything with me!” said Bellatrix, firing up at once.

“He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful —”

“Does he?” said Snape, his voice delicately inflected to suggest his disbelief.“Does he still, after the fiasco at the Ministry?”

The master stroke is the subtle insinuation that lowly half-blood Snape is closer to Voldemort than Bellatrix is. This makes her lose what little composure she had, and plays on her insecurity. Her interrogation ends shortly thereafter, and she seems satisfied with explanations that are frankly not very convincing.

“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”

Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.

“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”

Bella is enforcing silence on her sister. This phenomenon exists in real cults too: Members enforce the rules on each other, the leader’s hands are clean.

Bella tells Cissy off for caring whether Draco lives or dies:

“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect —”

I think this was LV’s pitch to Bella: She is the one who wanted to prove herself.

Bella is willing to give him so much, and he gives her nothing. Also, twice she claims that it’s a point of pride to be willing to die for the Dark Lord.

In DLA, he is particularly subtly abusive toward her:

“My Lord,” said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, “it is an honor to have you here, in our family’s house. There can be no higher pleasure.”

[...]

Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.

Why is Bellatrix halfway down the table? She has been unfailingly loyal, why is he punishing her with distance? Is he punishing her for being related to Narcissa?

“No higher pleasure,” repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. “That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you.”

Her face flooded with color; her eyes welled with tears of delight.

“My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!”

Look how nice he’s being! Look how happy he makes her! Except this is immediately followed by teasing her about her niece’s marriage:

“No higher pleasure... even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?”

She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.

“I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”

“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.”

There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

He is punishing with humiliation. Lucius screwed up the mission at the DOM and Draco didn’t kill Dumbledore, but what did Bella do? Nobody is safe. Instead of resenting the way she is treated, Bellatrix demonstrates her fanaticism:

“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.”

[...]

“Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring.

“You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.”

“Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!”

“You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain....”

Bella does not needanyone (a half-blood!) to teach her she must keep her family tree pure. She clearly doesn’t know crucial things about Tom Riddle, or is in denial. This is the same Bellatrix who killed her own cousin, so she is very capable of “pruning” her own family tree.

At the Malfoy Manor:

“Gold!” laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. “Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of —”

She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Harry could not see. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve —

“STOP!” shrieked Bellatrix. “Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!”

She seeks only the honor of his [something], but she is scared to death of him. She will kill for him and die for him, but she is keenly aware of the possibility that he might kill her - yet she loves him. She is a true believer - without him, she is nothing, and her devotion controls her every interaction. In her defense, he does not let others kill her, at least - he saves her at the end of the battle at the Department of Mysteries and seems upset when she dies.

Bellatrix thinks independently once: She doesn’t trust Snape, even though her master does. This is not so odd - the half-blood appears to be undermining her, to have aspirations to griw even closer to Voldemort than her - her jealousy and insecurity override how brainwashed she is. The dynamic between the Black sisters exemplifies the way cults drive wedges between family members - not that the Black family needed any help with that.

Peter’s vulnerability is obvious: His own friends think he’s worthless. He clearly isn’t - he became an animagus too, and he tricked Sirius, kill 12 Muggles with a single curse, and perform the tasks to revive Voldemort - but Voldemort exploited Peter’s insecurity, and even whatever guilt Peter had felt at betraying his friends. Sirius says Peter always sought the protection of the biggest bully. His “uselessness” was the express reason Sirius switched with Peter - obviously, someone like that could never be pegged for a potential spy. Voldemort must have made Peter feel valuable, like there was something only Peter could do - and when Peter’s choices ran out, he showed Peter his true colors.

We’ve seen how LV treated Peter at the resurrection ceremony. We also have the way he bossed him around in the first chapter of GOF, and that he forced Peter to work as Snape’s “assistant”, as seen in Spinner’s End. Sending Peter to work for Snivellus was brilliantly cruel - Peter must have viewed this as the height of humiliation.

In Dark Lord Ascending, he is shrinking himself to near non-existence:

“Yes, m-my Lord,” gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it had appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

In part 3 - Draco, Regulus, Snape, Lucius, general dynamics, and more speculations!

#meta #hp meta #cults #death eaters #lord voldemord #bellatrix #peter pettigrew

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