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The hair took forever and I should have been sleeping instead of doing this, but anyway! The second merfolk suggestion is done!
Another Day 1
Warnings: dub-con/non-con, age gap, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, physical abuse, possibly other triggering events.
Characters: dark!Steve Rogers.
Summary: Be careful what you wish for, one day it could come true. And that might just be your savior in disguise, all it takes is a little bit of persuasion.
Interact on your own accord. You have been warned.
Any reblog, comment, feedback is well received and appreciated! Enjoy <3
Another week, another day, another hour. Every single time the same.
It’s like a torturous cycle that’s never ending. Like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you and you’re waiting for someone, anyone to come out with cameras and tell you that you’re on a reality TV show and this was just an experiment.
Or at least wishing that you were like the main character from The Truman Show and one day you would find a way out. But what a surprise. Life isn’t that simple.
You let out a sigh as you throw your head back, leaning in the hard chair at your dull job. You look up at the grey painted ceiling, forgetting about the cheap lightbulb that was ironically placed above you in the exact same spot you are seated in as the awful light shines on your face.
You immediately squint your eyes, reverting your gaze away from the light, regretting that you ever made the decision to look up, getting even more frustrated with the situation you found yourself in.
You swear internally as you get up from the chair while closing the laptop, yet another cheap object provided by your employer. Your job working at a sales agency never was much of an interest honestly but as long as you can afford your rent and groceries you could never complain that much.
As you went to take your coat, you look over at your coworker with a defeated smile on your face.
“Gonna go out for a bit, I need a break… Let me know if you need any help.”
He barely gives a nod in return, not even sparing a glance in your way, clearly his full attention being on whatever he was doing on his laptop.
You pay no mind to it though, already used to people not giving you much thought. You make your way toward the exit of the rather small and depressing building, grateful that you were placed on the ground floor instead of the third or fourth floor, obviously no elevator in sight.
Only stairs. A lot of them.
Your whole body shivers as you make contact with the cold weather, which probably was like three or four degrees outside. Your coat not doing much either as you look at the fog that was forming at every breath you took.
You wrap your arms around yourself in hope of making the cold more bearable as you look around, at nothing in particular, just observing people walking by, kids playing in the snow and couples holding hands.
It brought a smile to your face as you enjoy the crowded street, losing yourself in the noise and the nostalgic feeling it gives you. Remembering the old days where you were walking with your mom, just talking and laughing, without a care in the whole world.
Yet the bittersweet moment doesn't last for long as you are rudely awakened from your daydream. You feel a body crashing into yours. You quickly look up, startled by the sudden interaction. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes, obviously taller than you.
He looks down at you with an apologetic expression, giving you a sympathetic smile.
“So sorry sweetheart, in this crowd it’s too hard to see much of anything.” he gives a small chuckle.
You stare at him dumbfounded. He tilts his head as he waits patiently for your response, unfortunately you realize only after a few seconds what has happened. You straighten yourself.
“S-sorry, sir, I didn't mean to be rude,” you shake your head in embarrassment.
“And no, no problem at all!” You quickly add, cursing at how your voice went up a pitch.
He gives a small hum in return, still smiling, seeming as if he’s pleased with your reply.
“In this case, if you don’t mind me asking,” he looks around.
“I seem to be a bit lost, do you perhaps know where I can find Elite Sales?”
Your eyes go wide as you hear him call out the name of the company you work for, but quickly regain yourself. Of course he wouldn’t know where to find it. The goddamn company didn’t even think to at least put up a poster with the half assed, original name as they call it, on the damn building.
“Good thing you found me then,” you gave the man a smile.
“I work for the company, I can help you with whatever you’re looking to buy.” you say trying to be as polite as possible as you instinctively go into the customer service voice.
“Here is our, er, building.”
He took his time studying the building in question as you patiently wait for him to make a move. You watch him with curious eyes, they can't help but wander as you study every single detail. The way he's dressed… long heavy coat, turtleneck sweater which fits his upper body perfectly, showing how well built he is, classic straight slim suit pants and classic leather shoes which on their own probably cost more than what you make in a single month.
‘’I don’t mind the staring sweetheart… but I’m kind of in a hurry.’’
You snap back to reality as you realize how he probably saw you staring at him like an idiot. You feel so stupid and embarrassed, you don't even say anything back. You make your way inside the building, dreading the work that awaits you. Occasionally stealing glances at the man, making sure he is still following behind you. You see your only coworker present in the room, being as busy as ever, still not acknowledging you nor the customer.
‘’Right then, if you could kindly explain to me what exactly you’re looking for?’’ you say as you take a pen and notebook from your desk.
He lets out a sigh as he folds his arms ‘’Not entirely sure…’’
Your eye twitches just the tiniest bit. Not the first time you have to deal with customers like him.
‘’Sir, I can’t help you if you don’t give me at least an idea.’’ you say as your patience is starting to wear thin.
‘’Alright, alright,’’ he chuckles.
You give him a frown as you don’t find any of this funny, but he just brushes you off as he continues.
‘’Tell me sweetheart, how are your safety locks?’’ he looks at you with a serious expression.
You were taken aback by his sudden mood change. You blink a couple of times until finally, you reply.
‘’…Could you please elaborate?’’
He shifts to lean against the wall, in a more relaxed position.
‘’Let’s say, for example, I put all of my most prized possessions in a room. I need something to keep it safe, locked.’’ he says, not once breaking eye contact.
‘’Not just any lock.’’
You think for a moment, taking in his words. You hesitantly nod your head yes while you write the information down in your notebook.
‘’Alright sir, I’ll see what I can find.’’ you say as you finish writing the last word ‘’Can I help you with anything else?’’
The man gives you a smile as he moves away from the wall, now standing fully straight ‘’That would be all, dear.’’
‘’Perfect. If you could please give me a name and a phone number so I will know how to contact you?’’ you quickly add, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
‘’Steve Rogers,’’ he starts saying then ends the sentence with his phone number information.
You thank him as you finish writing everything down, now waiting for him to just leave and be on his way.
As he gets to the exit door, he stops for a second to look at you. He calls out your name with a smile on his face, wishing you a good day before leaving. You stand in your spot without moving as you stare dumbly at the door that closed behind him.
You never told him your name.
“I tried to explain that I was a musician but it didn’t work. You say you are a musician and it irritates them so much they beat you more, and accuse you of lying,” said Merkotan
While international organizations inspect and have access to our prisons where Russian prisoners are held, they turn a blind eye and do not fight for proper conditions for Ukrainian prisoners.
Another thing that outrages me is the way "Putin's prison" is used. It was not Putin who tortured him and others, but russians. This is not Putin's war, but Russia's. These are not the decisions and crimes of one person. After 10 years of war, the Russians are still being singled out and absolved of responsibility. That's impossible levels of stupidity and cowardice.
Strong characters who don't show any fear. Even when captured. Even when they're on their knees, with their hands tied behind their back, when a fist or boot or weapon is about to connect with their face. They don't glance up in fear, they don't flinch, don't attempt to make a miserable attempt to fight back or run. They don't beg or plea. They simply take it.
They're not resigned. They're just biding their time. And waiting.