#a: she walks with storms in her heart and battles in her eyes (character study)

[untamedtempest]

Listing some of Ro's ships at work and finding some odd patterns-

Logan/hot old & grumpy

Max/ hot old & grumpish

Bucky/hot old & grumpy

Loki/hot old & grumpy

T'Challa/ hot big ego & grumpy

Evelyn/hot chaotic & grumpy

And then there's-

Thor/hot old big ego & sunshine

Kurt/ hot & sunshine

Yukio/ hot chaotic & sunshine

[dee-writes-anime]

Hii!! I really liked the recent fix u wrote with Izuku and dadzawa but I specifically liked the dadzawa part. Any chance you can write more of that? Maybe one where his daughter (or just kidding if u prefer writing gen) sneaks out while she's home alone and he's on patrol and he comes home to find the house empty. He panic, calls her a few time until she finally picks up, and she says some lame excuse like "I went to the grocery store" "at this hour? Without telling me?" Idk I just think that would be rlly cute😭 I love dadzawa💔

Where Are You? I Can’t Breathe

FEATURING Shouta Aizawa x Reader (PLATONIC)

SUMMARY you're not home, your location is off, and you're not answering your phone. And Shouta Aizawa, for the second time in his life, feels as if his heart might just stop in his chest.

CONTENT WARNINGS healing myself through my characters!!!, angst to fluff, cute parental stuff, worried Aizawa, descriptions of anxiety

AUTHORS NOTE Thank you so so much for your patience anon!! I really hope you like this dadzawa fic, he seems to be quite popular in my asks these days and I can't complain. I love seeing the Aizawa love!! <3

The key turned in the lock with a soft click, and the apartment door creaked open.

Aizawa stepped inside, one hand instinctively brushing his capture scarf off his shoulder and onto the bench beside the entryway. It had been a long patrol—nothing too serious, just a string of petty thefts and some graffiti in the Shinjuku district—but the hours had stretched longer than usual, and his bones felt like they were made of rusted iron by the time he made it home.

He didn’t expect fanfare. He never did.

But he did expect something. A light on. The faint sound of a show playing in the background. The soft hum of lo-fi you usually played while studying. Maybe your curled-up form on the couch half-asleep, a hoodie draped around your shoulders, textbooks open but abandoned.

Instead, there was nothing.

Stillness. Utter, absolute stillness.

His brow furrowed.

He stepped out of his boots quietly, listening for any trace of life beyond the walls. There was no movement. No rustle of sheets, no patter of feet. He padded into the kitchen. The light was off. No late-night ramen cup left on the counter. He glanced down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

Your door was open. Wide.

And the room behind it? Empty.

The comforter was crumpled. Your desk chair askew. A hoodie tossed over the back of it like you’d slipped it off in a hurry. But no sign of you.

He checked the bathroom. Closet. The small balcony out back.

Nothing.

The quiet had teeth now. It crawled up his back like a chill.

You never left without saying something.

His hand was already reaching for his phone before the thought could even fully form.

CALLING: Gremlin No answer.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

He moved toward the couch, like sitting might steady his pulse, and opened the app he only pretended he didn’t obsessively check—your location sharing.

Unavailable.

A long breath hissed through his teeth.

Of course, he wasn’t the panicking type. Not in battle. Not in emergencies. He was the calm in the eye of the storm. The man who could fight off villains on no sleep and handle thirty misfit teenagers with quirks powerful enough to level buildings. But this?

This was different.

He’d come home to an empty apartment, well past midnight, and his daughter was gone. No message. No note. No answer.

He tried calling again. His thumb was tight against the phone screen now, his grip tense, shoulders bunched up beneath the fabric of his coat.

On the third call, the line finally picked up.

“Hello?”

His heart squeezed. “Where the hell are you?”

There was a moment of pause. A shift in your tone as you responded—too casual, too quick.

“…I’m at the store. We were out of milk.”

“You’re what?”

“Just grabbed my hoodie and walked down. I’ll be back in a sec—”

“It’s 1:17 in the morning.” His voice was low now, clipped, laced with the tension that rarely crept into his tone unless someone was in serious trouble. “And you didn’t think to text me? Call? Leave a note?”

“I didn’t think you’d be home for a while,” you mumbled. “You said your shift would run late.”

“I caught a break,” he snapped, rising from the couch and pacing now, one hand dragging through his hair. “And I come home to an unlocked door and a dark apartment. Do you even realize how that feels?”

“…I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You turned off your location.”

“I didn’t— I mean, I didn’t think—"

“You didn’t think.” His voice cracked, brittle with the kind of fear that doesn’t look like fear—not on someone like him. Not on a pro hero. It looks like anger. Like shortness. Like disbelief.

The phone was quiet for a moment before you said softly, “I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.”

He exhaled, deep and rough, pressing his palm to his eyes. “That’s not the point. You can’t just leave in the middle of the night. You think the city shuts off at midnight? That villains clock out and go home? I don’t care if we were out of everything. You don’t walk out of here alone, in the dark, without telling anyone.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you repeated.

“I know,” he muttered. “But you did.”

Another silence. One laced with guilt. You never heard that tone from him. He was the kind of tired that didn’t show in sleep—he carried it in his posture, his eyes, his silences. But right now, it wasn’t exhaustion pressing down on him. It was the what if.

“What if I didn’t come home early?” he said, almost to himself now, his voice a murmur of thought spoken aloud. “What if something did happen, and no one knew you were gone? You’re all I’ve got, kid. I don’t take chances with that.”

That hit harder than anything else.

Your voice wavered when you spoke again. “I’m almost home.”

“Stay on the line.”

He moved toward the front door and unlatched it, stepping out barefoot into the cool night air. The hallway was quiet. The streets outside were too. A flickering streetlamp, a few parked cars, a convenience store sign glowing faintly at the end of the block.

You came into view a few seconds later, hoodie pulled up over your head, plastic bag in hand, your gait small and unsure now that you’d realized the depth of your mistake.

He didn’t say anything at first.

He just opened the door wider and let you walk through.

You hovered there for a second before finally offering the bag.

“…I brought the milk.”

He stared at it. Then at you.

“…You think I give a damn about milk?”

You hesitated. “And some Oreos.”

His brow lifted. Sharp. Unamused.

“…You are unbelievably lucky that I’m too tired to ground you right now.”

“I know.”

“Put the milk away. Then go get a blanket.”

You blinked. “What for?”

“We’re watching a movie. And I’m not letting you out of my sight until the sun comes up.”

A breath of quiet amusement left you, but you didn’t argue. You slid into the kitchen, and he watched you go, his eyes tracing every movement, like if he looked away, you might vanish again. When you returned, blanket in hand, he was already on the couch, one arm draped along the backrest, waiting.

You curled up beside him. Not quite touching—but close.

He reached over after a few minutes, tugging the blanket higher around your shoulders. And then—like it cost him nothing at all—he let his hand settle on your head, thumb brushing through your hair in a rhythm that said you’re here, you’re safe, you’re mine.

“You scared me,” he said again, but softer now.

“I know,” you whispered.

“…Don’t ever do it again.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t need you to promise. Not really. The fear in your voice had been enough. The crack in your confident facade. You were older now, nearly grown, but the city didn’t care how mature you were. He’d buried too many students to believe youth was protection.

So he held you a little closer.

And as the movie droned on and your head tipped to his shoulder, he kept his eyes on the door.

Just in case.

[knoepfl]

Can you please do a palladium x reader so palladium doesn't know that the reader is a precure he thinks that the reader is a normal human but the reader is a precure known as cure galaxy and he only find this out when the trix attack and the reader tells everyone to run but when the reader thinks that no one is there she transformers into her precure form but she doesn't know that her husband and the winx where there and she absolutely scared the trix because of how powerful the reader is (so of course the reader is an adult the reader is a legendary precure she knows about everything it's OK if you don't do this not everyone knows about precure)

Secrets of the Stars

Characters:

• (Y/N) / Cure Galaxy – A legendary Precure with immense cosmic power. She has kept her identity a secret, living as a normal human at Alfea and as Palladium’s wife. Brave, kind, and protective, she fights for others but fears how her loved ones will see her if they knew the truth.

• Palladium – A gentle, intelligent professor at Alfea and (Y/N)’s loving husband. He is calm, wise, and deeply caring, though initially unaware of (Y/N)’s true identity.

• Bloom – The leader of the Winx, a Fire Fairy with a strong sense of justice. She admires (Y/N)’s power and respects her deeply.

• Stella – The Fairy of the Sun and Moon, known for her dramatic personality and love for fashion. Finds (Y/N)’s reveal both adorable and awe-inspiring.

• Flora – The Fairy of Nature, kind and empathetic. She accepts (Y/N) immediately.

• Musa – The Fairy of Music, known for her tough but caring nature. She is impressed and slightly intimidated by (Y/N)’s strength.

• Tecna – The Fairy of Technology, logical and analytical. She is fascinated by (Y/N)’s abilities.

• Aisha (Layla) – The Fairy of Waves, strong-willed and courageous. Respects (Y/N)’s strength.

• The Trix (Icy, Darcy, Stormy) – The main antagonists of the story, a trio of powerful witches who attack Alfea. They are completely caught off guard by (Y/N)’s true power.

Trigger Warnings:

• Mild Violence/Fighting – (Y/N) battles the Trix using powerful magic, though nothing graphic is described.

• Secrecy and Fear of Rejection – (Y/N) struggles with revealing her identity, fearing Palladium and her friends will see her differently.

• Mild Emotional Angst – (Y/N) has an emotional moment when confronted about her secret, but it leads to a loving and reassuring resolution.

Masterlist

Words: 874

--- Professor Palladium had always prided himself on his knowledge. As one of Alfea’s most respected teachers, he had studied magic, ancient spells, and mystical creatures for years. But there was one mystery he had never been able to solve—you, his wife.

You were human… or so he thought. Unlike the fairies at Alfea, you had no wings, no magic that he could sense, yet there was something different about you. You had an aura of quiet strength, a presence that demanded attention even in silence.

He never questioned it. After all, love wasn’t about understanding everything—it was about trust.

But that trust would soon be tested in ways he never imagined.

---

Alfea was under siege.

Stormy, Icy, and Darcy stood at the entrance of the school, their dark magic crackling like a storm ready to consume everything in its path. Fairies screamed, running for cover as spells exploded against the castle walls.

You had been walking through the courtyard when the attack began. Instinct kicked in immediately. You knew the Trix weren’t just here to cause trouble—they were looking for something.

Or someone.

You turned to Palladium, whose protective stance made your heart ache. He had no idea what you were capable of, but he was still ready to fight for you.

“Run,” you said firmly, gripping his wrist. “Take the students and the Winx and go.”

He hesitated. “But—”

“No time to argue,” you interrupted, eyes burning with intensity. “Please, just go.”

The Winx, hovering nearby, exchanged glances before reluctantly retreating with the students.

You let out a slow breath, waiting until you were certain they were gone. Then, you turned back to the Trix.

“You should leave,” you warned, voice calm but firm. “Now.”

Icy sneered. “And what, let you run off like a scared little human?” She raised a hand, ice forming at her fingertips. “I don’t think so.”

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

You closed your eyes, drawing in the cosmic energy that had slept within you for so long.

“Precure… Metamorphose!”

Light burst from your body, a brilliant swirl of stars and galaxies engulfing you. Your casual clothes faded, replaced by a dazzling suit of celestial armor. The ground trembled beneath you as your transformation completed.

When the light faded, you stood before them—not as a simple human, but as the legendary warrior Cure Galaxy.

The Trix froze.

“…What the—?” Stormy stammered, eyes wide.

Darcy took a cautious step back. “This… this magic isn’t normal fairy magic.”

Icy’s confidence wavered, but she quickly masked it. “Tch. Doesn’t matter who you are. You’re alone.”

You smirked. “Am I?”

From the shadows, Palladium and the Winx stood, completely frozen in shock.

“Th-that’s (Y/N)?” Bloom whispered, eyes wide.

“She’s… a Precure?” Stella gasped.

Palladium’s breath caught in his throat. His wife—his human wife—was glowing with the energy of the cosmos itself, radiating a power that rivaled even the strongest fairies.

But you didn’t know they were there.

Instead, you turned back to the Trix, power radiating from your very soul.

“I warned you,” you said softly, before raising your hands. “Galactic Starburst!”

A cascade of celestial energy erupted from your palms, crashing into the Trix like a meteor shower. The sheer force sent them flying, their screams echoing through the courtyard before they vanished in an explosion of stardust.

Silence.

You exhaled, lowering your hands as the glow around you faded. With a flicker of light, your transformation disappeared, leaving you once again in your human form.

You turned to leave, but then—

“(Y/N)?”

You froze.

Slowly, you turned, and your stomach dropped.

Palladium stood there, his usually calm eyes filled with something between awe and shock. The Winx hovered behind him, equally stunned.

“…You saw.”

It wasn’t a question.

Palladium stepped forward, studying you as if seeing you for the first time. “All this time… You’ve been…?”

You swallowed hard. “I wanted to tell you,” you admitted softly. “But… I didn’t know how.”

His eyes softened. “Why?”

You hesitated. “Because I didn’t want you to see me differently.” You looked away. “I didn’t want to be a warrior to you. I just wanted to be… me.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then—warm hands cupped your face, tilting your gaze back to his.

“You’ve always been you,” Palladium murmured, his voice gentle. “And I have always loved you.”

Your breath hitched. “Even now?”

His lips curved into a small, loving smile. “Especially now.”

Emotion swelled in your chest. You had fought countless battles, faced enemies more terrifying than the Trix, but nothing had ever made your heart race like this moment.

A soft laugh escaped you, teary but warm. “I guess I don’t need to hide anymore.”

He kissed your forehead, holding you close. “Never again.”

Behind you, Stella wiped a tear dramatically. “Okay, that was adorable.”

Musa smirked. “And a little terrifying.”

Bloom shook her head with a smile. “You really are amazing, (Y/N).”

You chuckled. “You guys aren’t scared?”

Flora beamed. “Of you? Never.”

A newfound warmth filled your chest. You had always fought alone, but now… now you didn’t have to.

You weren’t just a warrior. You were a wife, a friend. And for the first time in a long time—

You were home. ---

[utt-a]

A lot of my favorite interactions are the ones Ororo has with younger muses. That mentor/motherly dynamic has been a massive part of Ororo's character since Kitty joined the X-Men, and in rp I find bits of her in every kiddo that becomes a part of her life.

Like Cat's Ro when she first came to Westchester feeling totally out of place in a world, she often struggled to understand while trying to cover-up her own PTSD. Them connecting through their love of plants melts me, and in trying to teach him to reach out to others it’s easier for her to do the same. @shattered-catalyst​

Riri has that same determination to make a difference and inspire. Tony and Charles maybe helped guide their energy, but they had that already in them. And in Riri Ororo gets to see the impact she's made and gets to cheer her on watching her inspire other Black girls. Riri reminds Ororo what it was like to be that young and still figuring EVERYTHING out, and needing to give yourself grace in the face of so much pressure. Riri is Ro’s hope and future daughter-in-law. @irxnlegacy​

 Zora gets her to tap into the Ororo that dreamed of flying years before her mutant ability made that real, reminds her that lines on paper are just suggestions and making space to be creative is good for every facet of life. @escapedartgeek​

Rogue is the busybody sister she would have been if her parents had another kid, and how could you not adore that? @southern-belle-outcasts​

Guess what I'm saying is I love all the kiddos, every single one my muse has ever talk to ever.

[untamedtempest]

#჻ϟ჻ your light eclipses mine (ororo)#- tries to contain a growl -#- fails -

[utt-archived]

What is Your Love Language? / Take the quiz here. / repost pls don’t reblog

Quality Time

In Quality Time, nothing says “I love you” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there—with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby—makes you feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed activities, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful. Whether itʼs spending uninterrupted time talking with someone else or doing activities together, you deepen your connection with others through sharing time.

Taggged by: @imxthexhandler​ (thanks!

Tagging: @whitewolfofrivia​  @xxvernalagniaxx​  @edhelaran​ @the27percent​  @southern-belle-outcast​  @regitania​ @survivics​  @irxnlegacy​  @symbioteburnout​  @destructiveglitch​ @soldierenby​ @thejotunthunderer​ @agcntwells​ honestly @everyone

[slightly-smarter-nat]

It Ends Now: The Scarlet Apprentice || Wanda Maximoff

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury, mentions of torture, mentions of death, MoM spoilers and elements. Character death. If I have missed any warnings please let me know.

Word Count: 5832 words.

Summary: The time has come for Wanda to face The Scarlet Apprentice and put an end to their sinister ways.

A/N: Part 11 of ‘The Scarlet Apprentice’. I cannot apologise enough for the delay in this chapter. I have made it a lot longer to compensate for the delay. Also I am so sorry if it doesn’t make sense, I tried my best. I have used some additional MoM characters in this, but I have changed their titles slightly and their role to prevent too many MoM spoilers.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Masterlist

*Italics represent The Scarlet Apprentice dialogue. When the Apprentice resumes command I have used ‘they’, when it’s the reader I have used ‘you’.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙

GIF not mine

It Ends Now: The Scarlet Apprentice-

Wanda storms out of the Kamar-Taj, ignoring all of Wong’s and Strange’s pleas for her to stop.

“Wanda, please you can’t just leave like this. We need your help.” Stephen says as he rushes up alongside Wanda.

Wanda pouts her lips slightly, attempting to display an unbothered persona, “You are getting my help Strange, I am going to stop Agatha- alone.” She says as she marches down the steps leading from the temple.

“Oh no, not on your own you’re not. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.” Stephen says as he grabs Wanda’s arm, halting her actions.

She turns her head away from him, refusing to let him see her tears.

“Wanda, I know what happened back there was painful. Trust me I understand, but if you go over there in this state, they’ll use it to their advantage. You’re too distracted to be thinking rationally.” Stephen says gently, not trying to upset Wanda further, but to give her a minute to collect her thoughts.

His heart sinks at her sniffles, he places another hand on her and gently moves her so she’s looking directly at him.

Up close, he can see her red, tired eyes releasing tears of a mixture of emotions- mostly pain.

Wong walks up to them both with the book of Vishanti in hand.

“Wanda, you’re not alone. We will continue this battle together, we have the chance to potentially end this now.” Wong says as he studies her face.

She bows her head, shaking it, “Y/n is gone, I have to kill Agatha. She has taken everything from me-“ Wanda’s words are interrupted by a desperate sob escaping her.

Wong gestures for Stephen to do something, to which the Sorcerer makes a puzzled face, he’s not the best when it comes to emotional situations.

“Um, it’s going to be okay. I know that doesn’t sound as comforting as you might like but I truly believe it will be, and I’m rarely wrong.” Stephen says as he guides Wanda into his embrace.

She buries her face into his suit, attempting to escape the harsh reality that surrounds her.

“Well, I can name quite a few times where you’ve been wrong-“ Wong begins.

Stephen guides his gaze to Wong, “I said rarely Wong, not never.”

Wanda lets out a small chuckle, the bickering between the two Sorcerer’s always adds a bit of humour to her day- how desperate she is to cling onto that ounce of happiness.

As she brings her head out from Stephen’s embrace, she glances around as her eyes widen.

Stephen and Wong instantly notice her change, “Wanda, what is it? What’s wrong?” Stephen asks.

“The other Sorcerers’, their bodies, they’re gone.” They all gaze around in astonishment; the ground is clear from the massacre they witnessed upon their arrival.

“How? We are the only ones that have been here. There’s no presence, no blood, nothing.” Wong muses.

Stephen displays a smirk in realisation, “That’s because they were never here in the first place.”

Wanda looks towards him with a head tilt, “What do you mean? They were here, we saw them, we could even touch them because they were real.”

Stephen shook his head, “To us they were real, yes. Though the waves in the temple were very real also… to Wong.”

Wong grips onto the book tighter, “It was an illusion, a distraction.”

Wanda looks between the pair confused, “I don’t understand-“

“Y/n, they didn’t kill the Sorcerers’, they must have spared them. They have the power to make us see things and convince ourselves they exist, how else would the bodies have moved Wanda? It’s the only reasonable explanation.”

Wanda removes herself from Stephen’s embrace, studying the ground, “What about your cut?”

“Okay, they probably meant that one to be very real, and painful but we all know that y/n would never be so cruel to slaughter innocents to such a degree.” Stephen says.

“It’s an act of rebellion, they’re fighting back.” Wong concludes.

“How? The Scarlet Apprentice has taken control, Agatha is the one ordering them around.” Wanda says as she rubs at her face frustratedly.

“Wanda, we don’t know the full interaction you had in the temple with y/n, but what if their episodes are in reverse? What if now when the Scarlet Apprentice is in charge, y/n takes over in the episode and stops the corruption acting.” Stephen explains.

“Okay, so you’re saying, the bodies we saw were an illusion for us all to see; including Agatha and The Scarlet Apprentice themselves? That y/n is helping us in a discreet way?” Wanda practically laughs out; in complete disbelief to Strange’s words.

“I know it sounds crazy, but what part of this isn’t. They’re clever Wanda, giving you the definite location of their whereabouts; the plans; the intentions- that’s y/n helping us. The Scarlet Apprentice is their prisoner and they don’t even know it.” Stephen replies.

“Perhaps y/n has gained control, enough to fool Agatha at least. Maybe they are waiting until we arrive at their location to stand against her and the Darkhold?” Wong lets out, surprised that you could hold so much power without him even realising.

“If I’m right- which is most likely,” Stephen says, causing Wong to roll his eyes, “Then we’ve got quite the battle ahead of us. It won’t be easy, they have the scribes; but we have the Book of Vishanti. We have a good chance, especially if we have y/n onside as the Apprentice. We’re just missing one thing.” He says.

Wong and Wanda glance at each other, waiting for Stephen’s response.

“The Scarlet Witch. One of the most powerful Avengers to roam this reality. I know you’re apprehensive about using your powers to such an extent Wanda but-“

“I’ll do it, for y/n,I just hope you’re right about this.” Wanda interrupts Stephen as she uses her hands to conjure her signature Scarlet Witch suit to grace her body.

Stephen smiles in amazement, “Okay team, time for a plan. Wong, you wanna take charge?”

Wong passes Stephen the book, “No, we’re a team, we will make the plan of attack together.”

Stephen takes the book from Wong’s hold, “Alright, let’s get to it, but first let’s try to figure out where y/n has placed the population of the Kamar- Taj.”

After several enchantments and approaches, they finally found the students/ teachers of the Kamar-Taj- safe and well.

Turns out you left them only a reality away, but you left them with a message for the team.

Let’s call it a ‘Strange Variant tip’.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

“Apprentice, are you sure it was definitely the Book of Vishanti?” Agatha exhaustedly asks as she trails after you.

“Yes, for the millionth time. I don’t know how they have it but it’s mine once we attack.” You say as you open the door leading from her basement.

You remove your Apprentice attire with the flick of a wrist, displaying your everyday clothes.

“Do you realise what this means? If they have that book they’ll be unstoppable. We’re not strong enough to battle against them if they have-“

“We?” You interrupt.

“Speak for yourself Agatha, this will be like child’s play.” You say as you throw the Apprentice scrolls onto Agatha’s kitchen table and unravel them.

“Don’t be so naive, this is beyond all of our capabilities. Even that of Strange and Wanda’s. If they even decipher one of those spells we’re done for. We cannot fight them.” Agatha says sternly, attempting to intimidate you.

You turn to her with a wicked smirk, “For the love of-“ You’re cut off by a horrendous pain shooting through your temples. You clutch your head in an instant, releasing a scream of pain.

Agatha watches in horror, knowing that she is not the one influencing this on you.

You collapse to your knees as your mind is surged with pleas and cries of unknown origins. You grip at the roots of your hair, becoming extremely overwhelmed with the pain.

You release grunts of pain as it eases off, finally allowing your body to go limp against the floor.

Agatha walks over to you, noticing the blood dripping from your ears and tears cascading down your face.

“Apprentice?” She barely whispers, staring at your frozen features. She would have assumed you were dead if it wasn’t for your rapid breathing.

She leans down, placing a hand against your face; instantly removing it when she feels a sharp shock surge through her skin.

You finally glance over to her, attempting to regulate your breathing. Sweat coating your entire body.

“What the hell is going on Apprentice?” Though Agatha doesn’t realise that isn’t who she’s addressing.

“I-I just need a minute.” You rush up, wincing at your stiff muscles as you make your way upstairs and to the bedroom Agatha is allowing you to occupy.

You slam the door shut, leaning against it and placing your hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle your cries. It took every part of you to overpower the Apprentice, utterly exhausting your powers.

You slide down the door, sitting on the floor as you allow yourself to cry- finally being in control of yourself for the first time in a while.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

Using Strange’s and Wanda’s powers in combination, they were able to release the members of the Kamar- Taj from their alternate reality prison.

“Hey Strange! Long time no see. Oh Wong! Check this out-“ A young girl makes her way out of the portal and guides herself over to Wong. She places one hand in front of herself, preparing her other hand into a ‘Sorcerer position’. She creates a signature collection of golden sparks and forms her own portal.

Wong smiles in pride, “Well done America, you’re doing very well here.”

She beams at his praise before turning her glance to Wanda, “Oh, hi, we haven’t met. I’m America Chavez- Stephen’s favourite student.” The girl says as she holds her hand out to Wanda.

Wanda slowly takes hold of her hand, whilst briefly looking over at Strange; he shakes his head in response, causing the girl to drop her mouth in offense.

As Wanda shakes her hand she says, “I-I’m Wanda, I’m a friend of Stephen’s and Wong’s.”

“Oh my god! You’re the Scarlet Witch! I am such a huge fan, I loved the time you-“ Stephen places his hand over America’s mouth.

“Okay Kid, you can fangirl over her later. We need to ask you some questions- Ew!” Stephen exclaims once America licks his palm to signal him to remove it from her mouth.

“Okay, what about?” She says as she looks between them all.

“Well I assume you met y/n, or the Scarlet Apprentice, hence why you were trapped-“ Wong rambles on as he paces between the group.

“Wait, we weren’t trapped. Y/n told us everything, they said it was for our protection; that we had to leave the temple at once. That’s why I used my powers to jump a reality.” America explains, displaying a confused expression.

Wanda snaps her gaze to her, “They helped you?”

America nodded, “Yeah, they said to not ask further questions but to find the missing piece.”

“What missing piece?” Stephen asks as he crosses his arms, book in hand.

“I’m glad you asked-“ She moves towards the portal she created moments before their conversation.

She helps lead out a Variant of Stephen, well what’s left of him at least.

“What on Earth is that?!” Stephen says in horror.

Wanda and Wong stare at the zombie variant of Strange in discomfort.

“Apparently you need to take him to your next location, something about Agatha Harkness having a real problem with zombies. I don’t know, I just did what I was told. He’s actually a lot nicer than you Stephen.” She says as she pats the zombie on the arm, causing it to drop off. They all cast their glances to it awkwardly.

“Okay, don’t worry, it’s not the first time that’s happened.” America says as she picks up the arm.

Stephen studies his Variant is disgust, his rotting skin, displaced jaw creating an immense amount of grey drool to escape.

“He’s not coming with us.” Stephen states firmly.

“Strange, if y/n told America to find him then we need him. He’s obviously important.” Wanda says as she looks towards the Variant, smirking at its attempt to pick at Stephen’s perfectly styled hair.

Stephen smacks at his Variant’s only attached hand, “Wong, you’re normally against things like this, do you want to help me out?”

Wong sees this as his perfect opportunity to get back at Stephen, “No, I agree with America and Wanda. Your Variant is coming with us.”

Stephen glares at the group, knowing that he won’t be getting rid of the zombie anytime soon. America makes quick work in reattaching the Variant’s arm.

“Now that we have that sorted, what are we going to do next?” Wanda asks.

“We shall study the book.” Wong says as he gestures to the book Stephen is holding loosely.

America rushes over and grabs the book, “Wong, why are you using the Book of Vishanti?”

“It’s the only thing that’s powerful enough to defeat Agatha and The Apprentice.” He replies.

“I didn’t help you get this just to use it for standard missions.” She says, feeling a sense of protection towards the book.

“Ah, that’s how you got it.” Stephen says with raised eyebrows.

Wong rolls his eyes, “This is not ‘standard’ by any means, we need your help America, you can decipher the scripts-“

“Oh no, no way, I don’t want to mess with this stuff.” America says, shaking her head.

Wanda grips America’s shoulders, “America, I need you to help me get my y/n back. This is so important to me, please if you can help us at least try.”

America nods her head, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Wong turns his face up in disbelief.

“It’s her idol, I wouldn’t stress about it Wong. She’d probably say yes to anything Wanda asks her to do.” Stephen says as he pats America on the back; sighing once he notices his Variant staggering behind him.

“Well, let's find you some defence,” America says as she walks towards the temple.

Wanda knows this is their best shot at defeating Agatha, having America Chavez on their side gives her hope. Becoming aware that America knows every aspect of the Book of Vishanti.

Now all she needs to do is prepare for what’s next.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

“Hon, open up the door.” Agatha called through the wooden barrier.

You released a staggered breath, wiping away the tears that remained on your face.

In order to stay in control, you cannot let the Apprentice take over your mind again. The episodes are becoming more frequent, and they are lasting a lot longer than before.

You take in a deep breath, attempting to keep your emotions in check as you stand up to open the door.

You meet Agatha’s curious eyes, “Sweetpea, surely you don’t mistake me for a complete fool.” She says in a low tone.

You tense slightly from her words, knowing she knows the Apprentice has shifted from your mind, “Agatha, you don’t have to do this, I’m sure if you surrender to-“

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, Agatha rolls her eyes and sends a wave of purple magic your way; sending you through the wall of her house.

She releases a groan of frustration, irritated that she now has to deal with your ‘innocent’ side when Wanda and her team are fast approaching.

You land on the ground with a harsh thud, completely winding you and sending a tense shockwave throughout your body.

You grip at the grass below you as you struggle to lift yourself up, momentarily wobbling back on to your knees as the pain lingers.

Agatha walks over to you, grabbing at your hair and lifting your gaze to hers as you yelp out at the action.

“I don’t have time for you y/n, bring back the Apprentice and we can sort out the mess you’ve created.”

You grip at Agatha’s hand, clutching your roots, breathing heavily through the strain, “No, I hope Wanda comes and kicks your-“ You cry out in pain as Agatha strikes your face, sending you back towards the ground.

Agatha conjures a purple orb of her magic, ready to harm you in unimaginable ways, having seemingly outlived your use and giving her the chance to flee from the others without you trailing behind.

She freezes when she sees your face.

You slowly turn to her, displaying red, glowing eyes. This causes Agatha to stumble back slightly, having expected your signature blue powers to make an appearance.

The only time Agatha has seen such a display is from Wanda.

Her purple orb slowly dies out, as Agatha takes a moment to assess your next move.

You’re about to stand up when you notice your surroundings freeze. The birds in the sky are motionless, the leaves that were once being played on by the light breeze travelling through the town have stopped.

It’s complete silence.

You gather yourself enough to walk over to Agatha, studying her panic stricken face, even the beads of sweat have frozen on her skin.

A few seconds pass when the silence is filled, ‘y/n.’

You look around Agatha’s garden for the origin of the voice, but no presence stands out.

You hear the voice call your name out again, causing you to scan each area carefully.

‘Stop.’ The voice commands causing your eyes to widen, and your breaths to quicken.

‘Y/n, you know you can’t win this battle. Let me take control and I promise to spare you once we remove Agatha from the situation’. You deduce it’s the Apprentice playing on your subconscious.

You shake your head as tears fill your eyes, “You’re lying. You just want to steal the power she holds to create more chaos with it. You want to kill civilians, innocents. I can’t let you do that.” You whimper out.

‘She doesn’t deserve the power that courses through her veins. Imagine the capabilities we will unlock with not just Agatha’s gifts, but with Wanda’s also. It’s our destiny to unleash chaos, and change lives for the better.’

You scoff at the Apprentice’s words, “Better? What part of this is better?! You’re keeping me prisoner in my own mind just so you can carry out a destiny that doesn’t even matter. There’s a reason those scribes were hidden, you’re not worthy of the powers of the Apprentice, no one is.” You cry out, refusing to let the Apprentice coerce you into handing over control.

‘I was willing to forgive you for that stunt you pulled at the Kamar- Taj. Yes you saved those Sorcerers’ from a fate worse than death, but you’ve only prolonged the inevitable. They will die at the hands of the Apprentice one day. You know that.’ The Apprentice floods your mind with their wicked words.

You place your hands on your face, “You know you’re losing, and that makes you dangerous. I can’t let you take control again. I just can’t.”

Silence fills the air once more, the Apprentice knows at this point in time, you’re the strongest you’ve ever been. Harnessing the power of Scarlet Witch as a defence.

‘Fine. I’ll release Agatha from her hold. I will help you but first, we have to make a deal.’

“I’m not making a deal with you.” You say.

The Apprentice replies, ‘Y/n, give me control and I’ll vow to you that I will give you access to something you’ve been begging for your entire life.’

You remove your face from your hands, “What?”

‘Your family.’

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

“Please can I come, I promise I’ll do everything you ask!” America begs Stephen as they begin to prepare the portal to WestView.

“No, it’s too dangerous. I can’t put you in harm’s way.” Stephen says gently, trying to avoid upsetting her.

“I am ready, I can do this. Just give me a chance, please.” She continues.

“America, Strange is right. Besides, we need you here in case the temple comes under attack.” Wong interjects.

America rolls her eyes, knowing it was a lame excuse.

Wanda places her hand on America’s shoulder, “Hey, you’ve helped us more than you know. Without you we wouldn’t have the Book of Vishanti or the readings to protect us. You’ve given me hope America, and that alone makes you worthy of being on our team- but on another day.”

America deflates slightly, but nods at Wanda’s words, “If you need help, you’ll let me join?” She asks hopefully.

Wanda smiles, “Of course, you’re the best back up we could hope for. Protect the temple and we’ll come back once we’ve finished the mission.” Wanda brings America into a hug, highlighting her gratitude for all the help the young girl has given them over the last few hours.

Wong and Stephen look at each other, “Do you think it’s how we say it as to why she ignores us?” Wong asks.

“No, she just knows we’ll give in a lot quicker, that’s all. Alright team, let’s go.” Stephen says as he finishes off conjuring the portal.

Wong, Wanda and Stephen’s Variant walk through the portal.

Stephen turns to America before he steps through, “Be safe Kid.”

Once he’s safely through, he stops the Sorcerer’s magic and looks around.

The town looks abandoned; fences are broken; houses are destroyed, all but one that stands in pristine condition- Agatha’s.

The sky is taken over by an ominous cloud, signifying the battle that’s about to occur.

Stephen looks at each figure standing beside him.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

“Without question.” Wanda says as she makes her way to the front door, having the team follow her closely.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹

Agatha prepares the house for an attack, placing Ancient Runes around each corner, to limit Wanda’s powers especially.

You allowed the Apprentice to take temporary charge, under the condition that you remain aware of the choices made and can step in when requested.

The Apprentice is scanning the scribes for any useful pieces of information against Agatha, knowing she’s the stepping stone to greater capabilities with the use of power draining.

Unbeknownst to Agatha, you’re blocking the power signatures emitting from her runes, making them useless.

“I’m glad the Apprentice was able to make a reappearance, it will give us a better chance of fighting Wanda off.” Agatha says as she absentmindedly finishes off her last rune.

You choose to ignore her, using your blue Apprentice powered hands to search through the scribes, knowing that the others will be here soon.

“Apprentice, do the scribes contain any information in taking down Wanda?” Agatha curiously directs to you.

You freeze, knowing any information you give her will equal Wanda’s demise, “No, now if you will stop interrupting me and actually let me study them I might have a chance in finding something.”

Agatha gives you a challenging gaze, detecting a line of deceit. Before she can question you, you both hear the sound of her front door opening.

“They’re here, hide the scribes.” Agatha commands, causing you to place the scribes in the belt of your Apprentice suit.

Just as you finish tucking them in, Wanda, Wong and Stephen round the corner of the room.

“Ahh, so you finally showed up. I’ve got to say, I’m a little disappointed with the turn out.” Agatha teases.

You can sense another presence, but they’re not standing with the others, most likely hiding in the shadows.

You glance at each of their faces, Wong and Stephen portraying hardened expressions. When your gaze lands on Wanda, you feel as though your heart has stopped, the hurt and anguish in her face says it all.

She studies every inch of you, shaking her head in disapproval.

Agatha catches onto Wanda’s lingering gaze at your dark fingertips- tarnished by The Darkhold, “Oh, you don’t like what you see Wanda? I’ve been very impressed with my little Apprentice lately, doing all my bidding for me.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes, if this is going to work, the Apprentice side of you needs to break down Agatha’s walls and harvest any lingering energy that remains.

Your moves must be calculated, you don’t want Wanda to misinterpret your selfish actions for love. Only the true side of you still holds love for Wanda, the Apprentice wants nothing to do with her.

Stephen conjures an orange, glittering orb in his hands and flicks it into the air.

The environment changes instantly. What was once Agatha’s home is now similar to that of what was the Scarlet Witch temple.

“Impossible.” You say as you study the stone walls, and dusty floors, it’s all immaculate.

“You’re in our dimension now, we have ultimate control. We’ll give you one chance to surrender, or we will not hesitate to take either of you down.” Stephen says firmly.

You attempt to communicate with Agatha telepathically, however her thoughts are clouded with questions as to why her runes didn’t protect her from Strange’s magic.

She casts a knowing glance to you, deducing your involvement.

“Well, if you want to be independent, deal with them yourself. If you want me Strange, you’ll have to find me first.” Agatha says as she clicks her fingers and disappears into a cloud of purple mist.

“You take care of the Apprentice, we’ll handle Agatha!” Wong says as he and Stephen run towards one of the tunnels, seemingly whistling for someone else’s attention in the process.

You’re about to investigate who, until Wanda steps forward, holding a red orb of her power, causing the Apprentice to resume command.

“So, you were finally brave enough to unleash the Scarlet Witch once more, I’m impressed. I thought what happened in WestView would be enough to scare you for life.” Wanda’s eyes widened in shock.

“How do you know-“ The Apprentice finishes off Wanda’s sentence, “Agatha told me everything. Too bad you didn’t trust me enough to say anything.” They say crossing their arms.

You desperately try to take complete control over your Apprentice side, hating how Wanda is being treated.

“I did trust you, I was just trying to protect you.” Wanda says shakily.

The Apprentice raises one an eyebrow, “Did? You don’t trust me now?”

Wanda shakes her head, “No, how can I with all the pain you’ve caused recently.”

The Apprentice smiles in response, “Well then I’ll have no trouble removing you from the situation.” You shudder as you desperately try to kick out the Apprentice’s control.

Wanda mistakes your movement as an attempt to harm her, causing her to send a wave of red energy your way, easily throwing you across the surface and crashing you into the stone wall.

You release a pained grunt on impact, clutching the side of your arm.

She makes her way to you, determined. Ready to strike again she conjures an orb of magic in her hand.

The Apprentice sends a blue shockwave towards her, causing her clutch at her head and scream, they hold the power steady, hoping to cause as much damage as possible. Filling her mind with tortuous thoughts and scenarios.

The power falters when they feel a sharp tingling feeling surging their body, they look at the skin, noticing scarlet red lines travelling through it.

“Y/n, cut it out. We had a deal.”

‘Release Wanda and I’ll release you.’ You play on your own mind, intensifying the power.

Your body starts to burn from within, the pain is borderline unbearable, causing The Apprentice to release a series of whimpers.

In a split second, the power forced on Wanda falters, giving her that brief chance to attack you. She instantly sends a tendril of red to your mind, taking control of your body and ruining your chance of removing the Apprentice.

Your powers stop as she rushes towards you, clutching your throat and slamming you to the ground.

“You need to stop this, look at what you’re doing. You’re hurting the people you love. You’re becoming a monster. Stop this now before it’s too late. Let us help you!” Wanda shouts over The Apprentice’s protests.

They lift one of their knees up rapidly, allowing a strike to land on Wanda’s side, causing her to fall to the side in pain.

Once she releases The Apprentice from her hold, they land a punch to her face, sending her to the ground completely.

“Stay here, otherwise my next strike will be lethal.” They warn as they go in search of Agatha.

It doesn’t take long to find the others, all you had to do was follow the sound of Agatha’s cackles.

The Apprentice enters a secluded area of the temple, noticing how Agatha is overpowering Wong and Stephen.

“The spells aren’t working! We need the Vishanti readings!” Stephen calls out to Wong.

“We must keep trying, we have to use them as a last resort.” Wong says as he staggers to his feet.

Agatha notices your presence, “Oh hon, you’re just in time, help me finish them off would you?”

Stephen gives you a pleading look, signalling for you to turn away.

The Apprentice refuses to give in, conjuring an attack spell to send towards him.

With one quick motion they send the magic towards him.

Stephen rises to his knees, as he quickly motions his hands into Sorcerer worthy actions, halting the surge of power before it manages to impact him.

The Apprentice rolls their eyes as they advance towards him.

Suddenly he splits the power orb into several pieces, causing them to slowly drift away. Once he gathers his strength he places his hands together and pushes the orbs away with his magic, causing the orbs to strike you and Agatha, sending you both flying- knocking the Apprentice out of your subconscious.

You both land and roll across the floor, desperately gasping for air, convinced you’ve broken something with the pain darting around your body.

Agatha quickly composes herself, having used her own magic to cushion her fall, “Get up Apprentice, make yourself worthwhile.” She says as she roughly drags you up. You yelp in pain as a stabbing pain plays on your ribs, making it hard to stand up straight. As you attempt to lean onto Agatha for support, she shoves you onto the floor, worsening your condition.

“My god, you’re weak. I’ve always had my doubts about you. Look how pathetic you are, you are not worthy of holding the title of the Scarlet Apprentice. You deserve to be powered down just like your Mom all those years ago.”

You look towards Agatha with tears in your eyes, “What?”

She laughs at your state, “Aww toots, those dreams of yours, they’re very real. Though here’s the best bit, it was me who tried to take you that day. Your Mom was too selfish to let you go, to let you become something great. Now look at you, you can’t even hold yourself up after a slight tumble.”

You clench your jaw in fury, tightening your grip on your suit. After all this time, Agatha was the one who murdered your Mother, all in the name of power.

Agatha moves forward and presses her foot on your ribs, causing you to yelp.

“Now, you’ve just proven that you’re not worthy, you’ve outlived your use for me-“ She says as she places pressure on your injury with her foot, making you yell out in pain.

Agatha raises her hand with a purple orb playing along her fingertips, “Goodbye, Apprentice.”

She leans her hand back ready to strike when a figure grabs her into a chokehold, dragging her away from your body.

You release a desperate breath of relief once the pressure is removed.

You look towards Agatha, hearing her screams of desperation as a horrifying version of Stephen drags her away.

You look towards Wong and the much more alive version of Strange to see them on the ground exhausted.

The zombified Strange attempts to harm Agatha, until she sends a wave of purple through herself and sends the Zombie onto its knees.

She quickly staggers away, truly fear stricken by its presence. The decayed face reminded her of her Mother when she attacked the witches for attempting to kill her.

You smile to yourself, knowing the girl you met at the temple followed your instructions clearly. Agatha didn’t mean to show you such a weakness, you saw it once she attempted to combine your powers in locating the scribes.

She has the zombie in a prison of purple tendrils.

She glances towards you, scowling.

“This is down to you.” She says, as she tightens her force on the Zombified Strange.

He growls out in pain, desperate cries fill the area, causing your heart to drop at the sounds.

He’s practically innocent and she’s torturing him to death.

The compassion you’re feeling allows you to understand that your Apprentice side is completely absent. You place a defensive mind barrier to stop the influence of the Apprentice taking over once more, knowing they had no intention giving you back control. The pain and attacks thankfully overwhelmed the Apprentice.

You attempt to move to protect Strange’s Variant but the pain is too strong, causing you to slam back down.

Agatha stretches her powers towards Wong and Stephen, killing them from the inside.

Their cries cause tears to emerge from yourself. You feel hopeless.

Suddenly Agatha is surrounded by Scarlet red magic, disarming her of her powers.

Wanda sends several orbs of power towards Agatha, however Agatha manages to deflect them all. Wanda uses her powers to levitate, sending a powerful blast to Agatha.

Agatha uses a deflective charm, causing the red orb to bounce back towards Wanda.

Wanda barely dodges it, causing her to become distracted. Allowing Agatha to conjure scorching hot tendrils to connect to Wanda and slam her down to the ground.

Wanda begins to release painful cries as the tendrils surround her body.

Agatha staggers back towards the wall, exhausted from the exertion of force needed to take Wanda down.

“I warned you all that I wouldn’t stop until I got what I wanted. Yet, you all persisted.”

Agatha pushes herself from the wall, flicking her wrist and forming a sharp collection of her powers.

“Now, you’ll pay with your life.” She releases a lethal force towards Wanda’s limp body.

In less than a second you use what little strength you have to throw yourself in front of Wanda. Ignoring the pain to save her.

From your actions, Agatha’s deadly spell lodges into your stomach, causing you to fall to the ground.

You intake short, quick breaths, trying to ease the pain in your abdomen.

You feel Wanda grab your face, “No, no, why did you do that? Y/n!” She desperately tries to gather a response from you but every second that passes brings you closer to your demise.

The voices around you become muffled as your vision blurs. The outlines of Wong and Strange make their way towards Agatha.

Suddenly you're plunged into darkness.

Having saved your love from the destiny that always awaited you, unknowingly.

༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙ ⊹ 　　　 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙

Taglist: @lainjupi @sryimawhore @me-uglypretty

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

In The Storm, There Came A Breeze | Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi, Reader/Original Female Character

Pairings: Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader

Warnings: Minor Angst

Word Count: 4023

Summary: Daichi blew into her life like a gentle breeze, battling the after effects of the storm Ushijima had left behind.

A/N: This is the second part of a companion piece, the first part will be linked here.

----------

Daichi blew into her life like a gentle breeze, battling the after effects of the storm Ushijima had left behind.

She meets Daichi as she is wandering around Karasuno without any destination in mind; trying to cloud her thoughts. She doesn’t even realise she’s walked in front of a gym until someone is yelling for her to move; she turns her head just in time to catch sight of a ball flying towards her face. Closing her eyes, she prepares for an impact that never comes; instead the ball had been stopped, the forearm in front of her face told her that much.

The world erupts into stammering apologies from the boy who had hit the ball, a whirlwind of laughter from a pair inside of the gym, and her saviour asking her over and over again if she’s okay. They were introducing themselves around her while she was still processing the events of two seconds ago.

“Great, Asahi, you broke the girl and you didn’t even hit her,” Sugawara slapped Asahi on the back - the boy in question had crumbled down onto the ground, letting out a stream of apologies.

She looks back up at Daichi exclaiming that she is, afterall, okay. He doesn’t accept it, not quite, “are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again

“I’m sure.” She nods, though it doesn’t come out half as confidently as she wants it to.

“You know,” he scratched the back of his neck, “you should take me to dinner as a thank you for saving your life.” The soft chuckle he lets out tells her he's joking - he has to be joking, why wouldn’t he be?

That didn’t matter, she felt bad about it either way, so she pulled out her phone, “can I have your number?” Her confidence was all fake, but he didn’t need to know that.

Daichi freezes for a second, unsure of what to do, until she juts her phone out again and he takes it, inputting his number. “I was only kidding…” he mumbled, glancing over at Suga who was giving him a wild grin.

“Thank you,” she slips her phone back into her pocket, offering him a small smile before turning away. He calls out after her, asking for her name and she gives it to him.

True to herself, she messages him later that evening.

Hi, when are you next free so I can take you for something to eat?

She put her phone on her desk, turning her attention back to her studies only for her phone to start vibrating. He called me? She picks up quickly, as to not be perceived as rude, “you really don’t need to take me to dinner!” Daichi exclaims, pulling a laugh out of her, “I’ll be alright, I promise.”

“I want to.” She says confidently.

“I’d feel bad, though, wasting your money on me.” He mumbles and she rolls her eyes.

“Please, it’s my pleasure, now when are you next free?”

They meet up that weekend and she takes him to the cafe. She orders for them both, because the options are just too good looking and I don’t want to waste your money. After finding out what he prefers, she orders Taiyaki and tea for herself, and pancakes, ice cream, and coffee for Daichi.

“Wow, this place is so cool, have you been here before?” Daichi asks, eyes bright while looking around. She nods lightly, her heart cinching at the memory. In between bites, they make pleasant conversation, neither of them taking much of a break from talking - though he does talk far more than she does. He tells her how he came about joining Karasuno, how he liked being the volleyball captain but those goddamn first years make it so hard. She learns that they’re planning on going to nationals this year, and he truly believes they can do it with this new team.

He asks her why she decided to come to Karasuno. She tells him that she had issues with some people while at Shiratorizawa - to her, Karasuno was the next best option when it came to what she needed - which was a way to escape.

She doesn’t tell him it’s because of who she is trying to leave behind.

“Maybe you could help me study then,” his words are hopeful, dancing with glee and amusement that makes her hesitate.

“Maybe.” She hums.

She was surprised when he asked to take her out next weekend - she couldn’t even argue that she hadn’t had a nice time, she had loved it. Her hesitation wavered when he told her to give him an answer whenever she was ready. It hadn’t been five minutes since he stepped on the train that she texted him she’d love to go out next weekend.

Days start to zip by whenever she is by his side, and nobody is surprised when he asks her to be her boyfriend - nobody is surprised when she says yes.

----

Apparently, Daichi lives his life freely - unlike Ushijima, who revels in his routine.

Of course there was his basic routine, but anything outside of school and volleyball was free-reign; she found herself going on multiple dates a week - most of them just sitting outside of Sakanoshita store with some food and drinks. He insisted on calling her by her first name because that’s just what people in relationships do, and I love the way you say my name. She doesn’t need to hide her blush.

Daichi wasn’t afraid to shower her with compliments. He loved to see the way she’d squirm and blush, how flustered she’d get. Even him just asking for her to read to him was enough to make her heart beat loudly in her chest because he could just never get enough of your voice.

She lets herself think that he might actually be the one. Not just some fairy tale.

----

Daichi adores buying her flowers when he finds out how important they are - unlike Ushijima, who had rejected the idea right up until she left him.

One day, they were walking around without rhyme or reason, just basking in each other's company. They came across a flower shop and a mixture of bile and adoration fills her throat; she doesn’t quite know how to react, especially not when he follows her gaze and asks, “do you want me to buy you flowers?” She watches the way he scrunches up his nose at the smell and pulls back.

“No, it’s okay, if you don’t like them then you don’t have to.” She mutters, trying to pull him away, but he doesn’t budge - instead, he twists her around and squeezes her hand.

“But do you like them? That’s what I want to know.” Something in her eyes twinkles at the prospect of it; as tears start to build up, he doesn’t question it, just brings her head to his chest.

“I do…” she whimpers, choking back soft cries. “But not purple hyacinths, or lavender, or forget-me-nots.” She states, and he nods like it’s the easiest thing in the world to remember.

He steps away from her, slipping into the shop and assuring her he’d be back quickly. The wind pinches at her skin, goose bumps prickling along her arms and she can’t help but feel some shame - as if asking for something as simple as flowers would be too much.

In five minutes, Daichi returns with a bouquet of flowers - camellias for perfection, foxgloves for protection, and roses for love - apologising that he took so long, “I just wanted to make sure they were perfect.” She feels her heart swell at the sight, burying her nose deep in them and snuggling closer into his side. “Do you like them?” He asked, almost unsure of himself.

“I love them.” She sighs happily.

And she really does.

----

Daichi loves to have her with him at practise - unlike Ushijima, who despised even the idea of it.

“You should come and watch me practise after school!” He cheers one morning while they wait for their classes to begin; she’s rubbing her thumb over his hand, because he almost refuses to not have her holding him in some way. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water - she’d still barely managed to be okay with the fact he played volleyball, watching him practise might be too much for her.

“Wouldn’t I be too distracting?” Her voice is like a breeze, too soft. He can feel his heart shatter at the way her eyes start to shine - not with happiness, no, as if she were going to cry.

He cups her cheeks, brushes her hair behind her ears and looks at her firmly, “of course,” he felt her tense up, “but I’d love to have you by my side no matter what - besides, it’d be nice to hear you cheering my name.” He grins from ear to ear, pressing light kisses over her face. She doesn’t know whether to feel loved or not, but she settles on the former and allows herself to smile.

“I’ll come watch.” She says, rolling her eyes as he yells triumphantly, “But I don’t know about cheering you on, probably that Tsukishima, though.” She giggles as he lightly swats her arm.

----

Daichi is quick to pick up on her fear - and for that, she is grateful

It should have been a normal practise, but the first years just wouldn’t stop arguing, for some reason. She was watching from the side, chatting lightly with Yachi when Daichi’s booming voice echoed throughout the gym - it set her body on fire as she froze, tears welling in her eyes; she knew it wasn’t directed at her, because she hadn’t done anything, but that didn’t stop her breath from picking up until she was light headed.

Yachi reached her hand out to you, worry laced in her words - she tossed a look over to Daichi who enveloped her in a hug, stroking her hair gently and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Never in her life had she been so thankful that he was holding her - if it wasn’t for him, her knees would have had her crumbling.

He led her out of the gym, not once letting go of her - not until they were away from the stares of his teammates.

When his sweet voice asked her what was wrong, she broke and told him of her time with Toshi - although she still referred to him as Toshi - she told him about his little comments, about the lack of affection, about everything that hurt and bothered her beyond relief. The missed dates and lack of communication. How much he drove her crazy. She told him how she used to hate volleyball because of him, how the very thought of it had once made her sick - until she met Daichi, that is.

Of course, she made sure to tell him how much he had changed her life; how much more confident she’s grown since meeting him, and how much she loved it, and how much she loved him.

He leans down, stealing a kiss from her, stroking her cheek with his thumb and she hums happily, melting into his touch. He pulls away from her, only barely, “do you even know how much you mean to me?”

She pushed his face away, blushing furiously - they’re completely unaware of the audience they’ve gathered as she complains about his sappy words, waving her hand harshly in front of him. Of course, he responds by lifting her high up and spinning her around, pulling her closer when she squeals with joy. For once, she’s taller than him, cupping his cheeks, pressing her forehead against his; strong arms around her waist, making sure she’s steady as she giggles, their breath intertwining.

----

There was no questioning that she was invited to his actual games and not just practises, she didn’t need to ask twice.

When his eyes sought her out in the stands, he found her standing there proudly, something on her cheeks and wearing his jersey. Even from here, he can see how anxious she is, but when they meet eyes, that seems to drip off of her, replaced by such pure love that has his heart swelling.

“Did you get her that?” Daichi asked Kiyoko, obviously meaning the jersey.

“She asked me to, even offered to pay,” Kiyoko giggled softly, brushing her hair out of her face - his eyes still hadn’t left her, pride swirling around him knowing she was there to cheer him on and nobody else.

“Of course she did.” He chuckled - it was too obvious that he didn’t want to take his eyes off of her for a second, but when he did, he knew she was still watching him. Only him.

As they play against Ohgiminami, he can hear her voice loud and clear in the crowd. Every single receive; every single serve; every single spike; there is no limit to her cheering - knowing how quiet she’d been barely a few months ago made him want to cheer with her, because for once she was using her voice, and it was for him. Because she loved him.

After Karasuno won, she ran directly into his arms, not caring about the sweat dripping off his body - relishing in every single part of him because why wouldn’t she? He finally gets a good look at what’s on her cheeks, ‘#’ on the left and ‘1’ on the right. He could have cried right there - she’d painted his number on her cheek. But he didn’t choose to pull her just a little closer and grab at the loose parts of his shirt on her. “You look cute, you should wear my clothes more often.” She rolled her eyes, swatting at his chest.

“I’m only wearing this because you're playing today,” she sighed heavily, crossing her arms under her chest, “don’t expect this treatment all the time or I’ll start wearing Asahi’s stuff.” He chuckled at the idea of that, shaking his head lightly.

“Whatever you say, firecracker.”

----

She was there the next day, sporting the same outfit.

At some points, he’s worried that she’s going to tumble over the barrier because she’s leaning forward so far - thank God Saeko is there to pull her back - still she carries on.

“You’re such a dummy,” she mumbles sadly, squeezing his hand in the infirmary. Of course he’d collided with Tanaka, something always had to go wrong in one of these matches. “You came together like magnets.” She tried to make him smile, and it worked, but the pain he felt was too much.

“I lost a tooth.” He showed it to her proudly - she grimaced, holding out her hand. Even if the gesture made him cringe, he gave it to her and watched her examine it.

“Can I keep it?” She asked.

“What is wrong with you?” Amusement flowed from him and she rolled her eyes.

“That way, whenever Tanaka makes fun of me, I can show him what he did.”

“You’re a sadist.”

She shrugged, “you love it.”

“I don’t know, I think you’re pretty creepy.”

“Whatever, magnet-boy.”

----

The night before their match against Shiratorizawa, Daichi called her, worried about how she was going to be. “I told you, Daichi, I’ll be fine.” She mumbled groggily - it was late, after all - but he couldn’t get the worry out of his mind.

“I know, I just… I worry about you.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair and flopping onto his bed.

“Really?” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “I couldn’t tell.” He heard her roll over, probably snuggling closer to her pillow. “I promise I’ll be okay, now can I go to sleep?”

“If he says anything to you…”

“I doubt he will.” She assured him, “but if he does, then it won’t matter, because the only opinion of me that matters…” she paused, letting him work out how she was going to end that sentence before she smirked, “is Kiyoko’s.”

“Hey!” Daichi cried out, there was still an amusement in his voice.

“Oh, I guess you, too.” She snickered.

“Yeah, I mean, having you cheer me on is nice, but hearing Suga’s voice.” He mocked a chef’s kisses, drawing giggles out of her.

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I dare.”

He listened as she tapped on her screen, before she airily laughed down the phone; of course she’d messaged in the group chat, he saw her message clear on his screen.

Daichi just said he wants to hear Suga screaming his name.

When he gasped, she laughed louder. “I hate you.”

“Oh my God, we have something in common.”

He rolled his eyes.

They said their goodnights, promising to see each other the next morning - even if they both knew it was inevitable, it was still nice to hear it.

----

Across the court was Ushijima Wakatoshi; Daichi watched the captains eyes flicker up towards the Karasuno stands as she cheered so loudly. He hadn’t even started playing, but she was already so excited to see how he’d do. With no shame, she blew a thousand kisses in his direction.

He waved gleefully before turning back to Ushijima, his eyes piercing into his skull. Daichi smirked, as if to say that's right, she’s mine. He puffed out his chest and continued warming up.

Only Suga seemed to notice him strutting around, but he didn’t bring it up, just snickered to himself - he’d been one of the few she had told about her past relationship with Shiratorizawa’s ace - of course, he’d immediately wanted to fight him, but she’d said it wasn’t worth it. That Daichi was the only one she really cared about when it came to opinions, and even then he’d always tell her the same thing.

He could remember her ranting to him a few nights ago about how happy he makes her because if I don’t get it out right now, I might just explode with happiness! And he’d listen, because she was so important to Daichi, and that meant she was important to him.

Daichi sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the game of a lifetime. He knew she was watching him, his number on her cheeks, his jersey on her body. That alone was enough to calm his nerves.

----

“They won…” she mumbled to the side a second after the game finished, the silence that filled the gym was deafening. “They won.” Her voice a little louder until she started to jump up and down, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You won!” She screamed out, leaning over the barrier, almost falling over until Saeko pulled her and Yachi into a tight hug.

Her heart pounded so deep within her chest that it ached, everything they’d worked hard for had finally come to fruition and she got to be here to see it.

The moment the teams were excused from the court, she ran as fast as she could, almost tripping down the stairs and bumping into several people, barely offering them an apology before she bolted off in the direction.

Just before she could reach Daichi, she ran directly into someone else. She looked up quickly, ready to apologise before she froze; the piercing red eyes of Tendou Satori were enough to make her panic. “Oh, Tendou?” Her voice was soft. She nervously tapped her foot, wanting this interaction to be done with soon.

“It’s been a while,” Tendou chuckled, slowly dragging his eyes over her outfit, he sneered, “didn’t know you would be supporting the other team? What happened to your Shiratorizawa pride?” She stared up at him, confusion laced in her features before being washed away by a mild aggression.

“I got to Karasuno.” She said coolly; somehow her words cut deep into the blocker, making him think that there wasn’t a thing he could say that would throw her off her game. “And besides, I’m here to support my boyfriend.” Almost as if he had heard her, Daichi appeared. She grinned so wildly, anxious to run up to her captain and shower him with love.

“I thought you hated volleyball.” He sneered. She sighed, dropping her smile for a second to stare back at him.

“I used to, but things change when you find the right person,” her eyes met Daichi’s and she smiled softly, reaching up to pat his arm, “you played good.” She waved him goodbye before full-on sprinting towards Daichi.

His open arms were a welcome embrace as she leapt through the air, landing perfectly in them. He stank of sweat, soaked in the stuff, too - she didn't care. Because he was here. She was in his arms. He won. “Oh my God, I’m so proud of you.” She plastered his face with kisses, squealing as he twirled her around, pulling her closer to his chest. “You did it, baby, you won.” She nuzzled her nose against his, eliciting a flush on his cheeks that she just knew wasn’t from how hard he’d just worked. The sounds of Tsukishima mock-gagging at their affection only made her laugh.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a gorgeous girlfriend, Tsukishima,” Daichi teased, eyes never wavering from her form.

“Well, she’s annoying, so I don’t want one.” Tsukishima turned his head away.

“And I was cheering you on, too, Tsukishima.” She put her hand against her chest, feigning pain as she flopped her head onto Daichi’s shoulder, obviously fake sobs made them all laugh.

Heavy footsteps didn’t draw away her attention from the man holding her in his arms; not until Daichi forced his eyes away to see who it was. She followed his gaze, locked eyes with Ushijima, any emotion on her face dropped immediately. He cleared his throat, staring at her, unblinking. It should have made her easy - there was a time when it would have made her uneasy - but that wasn’t today. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Anything you need to say to her,” Daichi carefully put her down on the ground, wrapping his arm around her in a way that screamed possessive to her, but she relished in it, “you can say to all of us, Toshi.” She inwardly snickered at the idea of him mocking Ushijima. His stare told her exactly what her boyfriend was thinking, if you even think of trying anything, I will beat your ass just like I did on the court. Tenderly, she rubbed his lower back, making sure to snuggle in extra close.

Ushijima’s stare still hadn't faltered from her face, zoning out the rest of the team, “I told you you were a distraction.”

The entire team seemed to set on fire behind her - no one said anything - waiting for her reaction was like pure torture.

They didn’t expect her to pull Daichi closer - as if there was any room between either of them anyway - and hum happily, “I’m not a distraction to the one that matters.

Daichi looks down at her like she’s just given him the world - in reality, she was his world. If he wasn’t mostly sane, he would have proposed to her right then and there. But then she’s leading him and the rest of the team away and he lets himself calm down.

Of course, the moment she gets outside, she's taking in such deep breaths that he knows how badly she was panicking. He watches her fall purposely onto the floor, laying flat on her back and covering her face, almost screaming into her hands.

He’s at her side in an instant, but then he sees the smile on her lips and he steps back.

“What got you so happy?” Suga leans down and offers her his hand, she takes it, being pulled to her feet with such ease.

“Because you won! I can’t get over it, like, Tanaka was like blam and Kageyama went whoosh-” they listened to her ramble, making random noises for each and every person, moving like an excited puppy.

Daichi had never loved her more in that moment. He knew, deep in his heart, that he had found the perfect girl for him.

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

A/N: Ah okay, sorry this took so long to get onto Tumblr, I was having issues. But that’s fine, we’re fine. 

[inky-duchess]

21 History Ancedotes for my 21st Birthday

So today I celebrate my 21st birthday and I have decided to gift you all with 21 of my favourite historical Ancedotes. Some are funny, some are sad and some are plain bizarre but I hope the make your day 💜

Mary Maloney, an Irish-born suffragette in England followed Winston Churchill around while he was campaigning for a seat in Parliament, drowning out everything he said with a very large bell and calls for him to apologise for his comments on women's rights and suffrage movements.

Clodius Pulcher was a well born Roman noble during the last day's of the Republic. He gave up his Patrician status to become Tribune of the Plebs (an office in which one had to be a Pleb) by being adopted by a much younger Plebian man who became his "father". Clodius was a bit of a riot, sneaking into religious festivals dressed like a woman to sleep with Caesar's wife, building a shrine to Liberty in the ruins of the Conservative Cicero, vetoed the last speech of one of the Consuls (who basically did nothing all year and was apparently going to roast Caesar) and burned down the Senate House with his funeral pyre (the Plebs who loved him literally tearing up the furniture to build his pyre). He was honestly the best fun.

When laying on her deathbed, Queen Caroline of Ansbach turned to her husband George II of England and told him he should marry again. George refused to ever wed again... But added he would have mistresses. Caroline said , likely with a roll of her eyes, "oh my god that doesn't matter."

Florence was a pretty cool city in the Renaissance until Savanorola came to town. He disliked the loose living artists that crowded the city, with their naked pagan gods and rampant homosexuality. He expelled them all with help of the French hoping to make Florence Holy Again. When the Borgia Pope excommunicated him and sentenced him to death, one man in the crowd was reported to have said. "thank God, niw we can return to sodomy." One Floretine man in the 1490s said Gay Rights.

So this list couldn't be complete without an entry of the only American politician I love, Alexander Hamilton who was just a walking entity of sass. I could go on about his sharp sarcasm or his disaster bi vibes with John Lauren's but my all time favourite Alexander Hamilton ancedote has to be this exchange with Thomas Jefferson "There are approximately 1010300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly explain how much I want to hit you with a chair."

Caterina Sforza was an Italian noble woman during the Renaissance. She was apart of the powerful Sforza family, which drew many enemies to her. One fateful day at Forli, Caterina's children were snatched as hostages. The besiegers threatened to kill her children if she did not cede the castle. Caterina refused, lifting her skirts and shouted to the besiegers that she had the means to make more children.

Hannibal Lecter's creator Thomas Harris was happy to end his great character's story with the original trilogy. However his publishers forced him to write an unneeded prequel explaining why Hannibal became Hannibal. Thomas Harris agreed lest he lose the rights to his character so he wrote Hannibal Rising, where Hannibal as a young man hunts down the Nazis who ate his sister with a katana.

Nell Gwyn is my favourite mistress of Charles II, mainly because of her sass. Once while trapped in the middle of a riot where Londoners swamped her carriage thinking she was Charles's Catholic mistress. She popped her head out the carriage and told the people "Pray good people be civil. I am the Protestant whore." She also dosed her rival Moll Davis with laxatives in order to free up some of Charles's time and she once flashed her underwear at the French ambassador after asking him why the Franch King did not pay her to spy on Charles because she was with him every night. A true Queen.

Emperor Ai of the Han Dynasty of China once rose from his bed to go do some ruling when he realised his lover, Dong Xian was sleeping on his sleeve. Rather than disturb his lover, the Emperor cut his sleeve off at the wrist to leave Dong Xian nap. Nothing has ever been more romantic than that. Y'all could never.

Princess Margaret the sister of current Queen Elizabeth II was a socialable Princess and often tasked to visit the up and coming music stars of the day on behalf of the Crown. When meeting the Beatles one evening, she noticed George Harrison was acting a little odd. When she asked what was the matter, he replied "We arent allowed eat until you go." Princess Margaret laughed and promptly left so the Beatles could get some dinner.

During the Siege of Jadotsville, Irish soldiers under the flag of the UN were attacked and besieged by local insurgents allied with the Katanga Regime. The insurgents numbered thousands while the Irish only had 158 soldiers, all who were lightly armed. They radioed to their allies assuring them that "we will hold out until our last bullet is spent. Could use some whiskey though".

Napoleon was famous for writing raunchy letters to his wife, the Empress Josephine while he was away. She used to reply with really mundane letters or not at all. She really just could not be bothered with him.

Josip Broz Tito was so fed up with Joseph Stalin sending assassins to kill him, he wrote to Stalin personally to say "If you don't stop sending assassins to kill me. I will send one to Moscow and I won't have to send another." It didn't work but Big Dick Energy.

Successful Roman soldiers returning from war often got to march along in parades known as Triumphs. During this, it was customary for them to sing bawdy songs about their commander. One surviving one about Caesar goes like this "Romans, lock up your wives. Here comes the bald adulterous whore. We pissed away your gold in Gaul and come to borrow more."

Matilda, Lady of the English was a woman so badass that history cannot handle her. She was the daughter of Henry I who left his throne to her after the death of her brother. She was away in France when her father died and her throne was snatched by her cousin Stephen. They battled back and forth for years with neither side ceding any ground. Matilda was once besieged in a castle during a snow storm, with Stephen's men all around her. Instead of fighting her way out. She simply donned a white cloak and walked out of the castle. Just walked out without any of Stephen's men seeing her.

Pedro of Portugal once fell in love with a beautiful lady in waiting called Inez de Castro. For years, they lived as man and mistress, popping out a few kinds. Pedro's dad really did not like Inez and wanted Pedro to find a legitimate wife so he had her killed. Pedro returned home to find the mother of his children dead. Pedro went a little crazy. He had all his father's assassins killed, ripping out their hearts as they had done to him. When Pedro ascended the throne, he demanded the Pope legitimize his children by Inez. The Pope not wanting to upset the King, said he couldn't because Inez was never crowned Queen. Pedro dug Inez up and crowned her as Queen, having all the nobility swear loyalty to her corpse. The Pope had no choice but to agree to his request.

A famously clever general once saved an entire city with an ingenious stragety to sit outside the city waiting for the attacking army to come. The attack had come to fast for the city to ready themselves for a Siege so, the general had to move quickly. He evacuated the city and took his place waiting for the army to come. The enemy forces stopped and took one look at him and bolted, thinking he meant to lure them in one of his famous traps.

Michaelangelo was really badly treated by the Vatican when he was painting the Sistine Chapel. He constantly fought with the Popes over the design and his work, which he was paid peanuts for. Michaelangelo got his revenge in his work, painting the gates of Hell behind the Papal Throne and an angel flipping the ol' fig (the Renaissance version of the bird) toward the Pope's chair.

Peter the Great was not a perfect guy. He kept serfdom as a practise in his kingdom, he had his son tortured to death and he could be an unpleasant guy. But Peter was a dreamer. He wanted nothing more to build a fleet for Russia and bring Russia beyond its borders. Peter took a gap year from ruling Russia to wander around Europe. When he stopped in England, he was granted Leicester House to chill in while he did his shipwright studies. It was here that Peter found a new passion. The wheelbarrow. Cue Peter and his new found English buddies drinking in Leicester House, punching the artwork and rolling each other around in barrels across the house's Great gardens.

Diogenes is hands down a walking shit post. He was a great thinker in Greece during the reign of Alexander but a rather dry, sarcastic wit. He lived in a pithos/a jar because he shunned all vanities and values of society. He trolled other philosophers, attending their debates to heckle them and eat loud foods through them. When Alexander the Great came to fan boy over him, saying that if he were not Alexander he would like to be Diogenes to which Diogenes just said "yeah me too, now get out of my sunlight."

Cosimo de Medici was the son of a Floretine banker with a great knowledge and love of art. Cosimo wished for Florence to release its potentially and join the Renaissance. He hired Filippo Brunelleschi to finsh the Great Dome of Santa Maria del Fiore which had láin unfinished for over a century, a symbol of a failure of ambition. The builders had lost the knowledge of creating a dome so large so it remained unfinished. Despite much opposition from the other nobility and denouncers of the Renaissance, Cosimo's dream of the completion of the dome was completed, making it the largest brick dome in creation at that time. There is nothing like achieving your dreams and certainly nothing like leaving a lasting reminder that screams 'I was right and you were wrong' to stand for centuries.

[untamedtempest]

WHO SIMPS FOR YOU?

"Someone collect Rose before she snickers to death."

swipped from: The Mighty Bae <3

tagging: pls, everyone.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

what i knew

summary: sometimes curiosity doesn’t kill the cat, it kills relationships; and in the worse cases it kills people                        

word count: 2,612                                                                                     reading time aprox: 10 mins   

warnings: character death (not any of the protagonists), angst, and loss/grievance (this is the first time i had to use one of these, wow)

a/n: this is my celebration post for reaching 2k followers here, so i decided to celebrate the way i know best: through angst! thank you all very much for reading

masterlist

Coming home to Spencer was the sanctuary I needed after facing the trials and tribulations that the day demanded me to endure. He was the soothing whisper in my ear as I embarked on the uphill of life while a blazing storm was afire. He became the chief of defense whenever malicious thoughts infiltrated the purest parts of my mind. 

He became my security blanket. A blanket I would comfortably drape over my bare skin at the times where I needed him most.  

But nothing could’ve prepared me for the single night that I couldn’t restore what he lost. 

-

I flipped through the pages of Jane Austen’s most profound work, my eyes trailing over every word with intent and curiosity. Although in my peripheral view, Spencer was a few steps away as he was also engrossed in a book. But with my attentive instinct, I noticed the subtle flicker of eyes from the pages of the novel to the screen of his cellphone on the arm of the chair he sat in. 

Taking a moment to linger at the sight, his fingers had been more fidgety, the lines etched on his forehead were creased, and the intense stare he held as he read could’ve burned holes through the pages. A thought was obviously crossing his mind--well maybe a few million were. 

“Spence? Are you well?” I tucked my book neatly into my lap, giving Spencer my full undivided attention. 

“Yeah--uh I’m just checking up on my mom--yeah” He nodded unconvincingly, letting his eyes stray away from the page he’s been stuck on for the entire time, checking his phone once again. 

“Really?” I hummed, raising my eyebrows at his vague response. 

He nodded in response, momentarily raising his eyebrows at me while he nodded apprehensively. “Yup” He assured. 

“You know Reid…” I began, tracing the quilted fabric that was stitched onto the arm of my chair. “I may not be a profiler but you’ve been on that same page for approximately six minutes now, your knuckles are twitching which is usually a clear indication of anxiety, and your eyes have been more interested on whatever is plastered on your phone rather than the words in your book, but again I’m no profiler” I declared my observations eloquently, only looking up at him in satisfaction as fascination crossed his eyes. 

He shook his head, humming in amusement as he set his book on the side table. “Okay Sherlock” He relinquished his facade, gesturing at me to continue.

“So Spencer Reid, are you going to tell me what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours or am I going to have to pick it out of you?” 

He laughed at my threat casually before a more melancholy expression crossed his visage. He exhaled a heavy breath, taking one last glance at the device beside him before meeting my inquisitive stare. “I wasn’t--um--lying about it being my mom…” His voice trailed off with a choked breath in his esophagus. “Uh, I got into sorts with her and we just got into his argument about sending her into another study and--gosh Y/N she told me no more studies an-and that got me angry because it seems like she’s ready to...ready to…” He breathed, taking a longing pause as his face contorted into anguish. 

“Hey...you don’t have to--if you don’t want to say it, you don’t need to” I reassured, standing up from where I was planted, skipping over to where he was situated. I kneeled before the chair, resting my head at the side of his knee. His hands made its way to the tangled mess of my hair, soothingly running his fingers through the tousled locks. 

I watched as his chest heaved and fell at a rhythmic beat, signifying the evident weight that was present on his shoulders. “It just feels like all the hope--all the effort--I’ve put into making sure she’s lived a happy life was futile” He vulnerably confessed, his finger running down the side of my cheek, caressing it gracefully while he spoke. “I just...I don’t know what or how to process that” He tapped on the apple of my cheek, gesturing for me to climb on next to him. 

“Maybe I’m just overthinking-” 

“No Spencer, you absolutely have the right to worry about this. She’s your mother after all” I climbed into his open arms, settling my legs over his laps as I nudged my head into the crook of his shoulder. I relished in his scent, basking in the soft warmth that naturally radiated from him. “If..if you don’t mind me asking, why do you keep checking your phone?” I tentatively ran my fingers across the side of his abdomen, tracing mollifying circles to ease his tense muscles. 

He carelessly tossed the device next to me, cautious about hitting me by accident. I grabbed the phone out of the small crevice it landed in, scrolling through the various voice messages Diana had sent Spencer in the last couple hours. 

“YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD”

“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN”

“I WISH I NEVER HAD YO-” 

My heart jumped at the heinous comments; the venom spilling over her words came as a surprise. Never would I have thought that anything of this sort would inhabit Diana’s mind--well despite it not being there most of the time. 

“I--Spencer, I don’t even know how to--” 

“She’s in the middle of a break--or at least that’s how she was when I left her” He paused, shifting his eyes to the frosted window in our living room, taking small glances at the phone in my hand. “But those messages were from a few hours ago” He sighed, pulling me into his side, laying his chin on my head as he breathed into my hair. 

“Well…” I pulled his chin down gently to level our eyes, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I know that your mother loves you with all her heart...the same way that I love you with all of mine...” I brushed a few stray hairs away from his face, letting my palm fall down to cup his cheek. “Maybe even more. I know it hurts now Spence--and I’m asking you not to hide from me because I’m here--but in the small time I got to know your mother, I know that she has a big heart like her son and I’ve felt the same unconditional love that can radiate from it” I finished, pulling him down in a sweet kiss. 

I felt his lips curl into a timid smile, breathing out a hefty exhale before blessing the top of my head with a grateful kiss. “Thank you Y/N” He hummed, descending down to my shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “Really...thank you”

-

It had been a tiring week to say the least. Ever since Diana left those voice messages on Spencer’s phone, he’s been leaving the device at home, sometimes even forgetting to charge it. I hummed a continuous melody, letting the tune of Hamilton buzz through the living room as I cleaned. I leaned over the couch to fluff up the pillows, folding the blankets that were thrown carelessly on the floor. 

An exasperated huff escaped my lips as I spotted the neglected phone tucked in between the cushions of the couch. Pulling the phone out of the crevice, I inspected the power button, soon discovering that the battery was indeed dead. 

I skipped to the kitchen counter, plugging the phone into the charging port before shuffling back to the living space. Although not even a second later, the ringtone sounded while various notifications blared out simultaneously. 

I cringed, plugging my ears in the hopes that the horrendous symphony of chimes stopped. After a few minutes had passed, the screen turned on displaying an array of text messages, emails, and voicemails. But the one particular message caught my eye despite the cesspool of notifications. 

‘Bennington Sanitarium: 13 new voicemails’ 

The cold bit at my fingers as I held the phone, like it was a forbidden relic.The eeriness ran up my veins at an unfathomable pace, sending a warning shock to my shoulder. I instinctively dropped the device on the marble counter, shaking my head out of disorientation. 

Why would the sanitarium--?

Should I even be seeing this?

No--I shouldn’t, everything’s okay, this isn’t my business. But what if--no. 

I walked away from the counter, ignoring the lingering feeling of curiosity scratching at the back of my neck. I grumbled, trying to hide the impulsive grimace forming on my face. 

Don’t do it Y/N

I took in an intermittent breath, turning around to stare at the tempting device sprawled out on the counter

But what if something--?

 No...No?

I bit the inside of my cheek, letting the battle between my conscience and my temptation ensue. 

Well...Spencer should be home soon

Maybe just a little look…

My curiosity camouflaged the growing guilt in my stomach, rushing off to take the phone in my hands once again. I felt like Eve in the garden, the serpent drawing me in by manipulating my eagerness to know. I knew once I made that decision, there was no way back. At that time I was completely fine with those odds--I comfortably accepted the unknown. 

But that was it…

It was what I didn’t know, that should’ve stayed unknown. 

I crossed a boundary that I was too ignorant to recognize

“Good Afternoon Dr. Spencer Reid, this is the Bennington Sanitarium, I am Charlene, Diana’s nurse, and...I--there was--uh--” The woman choked in between her words, making the pit in my stomach grow. “There was an incident regarding your mother and I have to inform you, sir, that--” 

I swiftly pressed the pause button on the voicemail, feeling an overcoming wave of fear wash over me. My hands shook at my sides, frustrated at the underlying curiosity that still nipped at me. 

Was it even human of me to snoop through Spencer’s privacy?

Was it merciful for me to deliver a message that might cause pain? 

Moral dilemmas flooded my head once again, but I pushed that aside, unable to deal with the raging battle occurring in my conscience. With a shaky breath and a quick glance at the door, my finger hovered over the screen and let the message play out. 

“The staff of Bennington Sanitarium regret to inform you that Diana Reid has...passed away at 9am this morning. She had suffered a stroke from an insurmountable of stress and passed peacefully in her bed. I understand that this is a difficult time but we need you to…” 

The cold had infiltrated my entire body, guilt weaving itself in between the tendons of my heart. A nauseating ring permeated my ears, but nothing could’ve been the cause of the emitting sound. My entire body melted into weakness, my limbs turning into jello. 

“No…” I whispered. 

This wasn’t real...I...Spencer

Spencer...oh my god Spencer--what is he going to--

I covered my mouth as a distinguished sob of anguish left my lips. Tears fell freely from my eyes for Spencer, for Diana who had been a second mother to me, to the regret of my actions. I held myself up on the counter, the deafening ring still not leaving my ears. It bounced around my headspace like a punishment, like it was torturing me for venturing into an abyss I never should’ve been tempted to explore. 

Shock invaded every corner of my body, making me feel lightheaded. 

She was…

She was gone… 

Diana...she’s… 

Spencer never got to say goodbye

This call was his goodbye and I took that from him. 

I took away his goodbye. 

Another sob reverberated through the room. It was heavy and choked like it was a place where solace could never thrive. Pain was evident in the guttural emission, challenging the strings that kept the heart open to hope. 

Although the sob hadn’t left my lips…

It left the mouth of a mournful brunette who stood in the frame of the door, unbeknownst to the news he would soon uncover. 

It seemed that I failed to hear the cheery footsteps of his while he entered the apartment, too entranced by my own shock that still pounded against my chest. My mouth hung agape as the feeling intensified by the mere appearance of Spencer himself. 

His autumn colored eyes dulled into a sully grey, his prominent shoulders hung with a thousand weights attached to him, but it was the way he looked at me that pulled me apart the most. His eyes longed for comfort, but the anger beneath them told another tale. 

My breath had been caught in my esophagus, unable to form any incoherent words. 

I--I didn’t know what to say

“S...Sp....” I tried my hardest to push the words off of my tongue but my fear decided against it. 

He shook his head at me in defeat. 

It was hopeless

His knees threatened to buckle before him. I noticed this and took an instinctive step towards him, but when he looked up to meet my concerned gaze, I knew there was nothing I could do. 

A glassy film casted over his doleful eyes, the corners of his lips twitching into a frown as his head ran a thousand miles per hour. His breaths were heavy and intermittent, only coming out of his lungs as choked air. 

“I…” He brokenly whispered. “She--I--no…” His voice cracked, giving away the scornful weight that he harbored inside him. “No no no no no no...no she can’t--no…” He grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pacing back and forth while he looked to the sky for solutions. 

“No no no no no mom no please” He cried, crashing onto the floor as his knees finally gave out. Deep rooted cries racked his chest as he pulled his knees to him. “No no no no no” He continued to repeat like a haunting mantra. “Y/N no, please tell me it's not…” He begged. 

“Spencer...I’m so sorr--” 

“NO! NO! DON’T--” He heaved, lifting his face from his knees to send daggers my way. “Don’t...don’t fucking lie to me y/n” His voice softened, sounding like the broken boy that hid behind that brain of his. “Please...please just tell me she’s okay? Y/N? Please…” He begged once again. “I never...I didn’t tell her I loved her. You...you took that away from me...”

My own cries mixed in with his as I resentfully shook my head. “I’m sorry Spencer…” I meekly whispered, bringing myself onto the floor across from him. “I wish that I could do something---I really wish I can---please let me help, let me do anyth--” 

Before I could finish my sentence, Spencer stood up and ran for the door, leaving all his belongings behind. I called out his name--I cried out for his presence.

 I was desperate. 

Desperate to console him, desperate to love him again and to make him feel safe, but I was mostly desperate to selfishly know if he was going to come back. 

What have I done? 

I was powerless

What have I DONE?

Left on the floor like broken porcelain that was swept under the rug, I let the broken fragments pool around me. I wailed for his return, but deep down I knew that he would never want to go back to a place that reminded him of a tremendous loss. 

It was then that I realized that what I knew would plague the entirety of my existence. 

It was what I knew, that I wish I had never come know.

-

hope you enjoyed <3

taglist: @rexorangecouny @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @howdycharlie

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 4

fevers.

You’re struggling with a harsh fever. (AO3)

Words: 1,633

The following weeks were a blur of the same old routine. Reading, writing, drawing, and trying to speak. Progress was made but it was all too frustratingly slow for your own liking. You could make sounds now but they were embarrassingly hoarse and your throat was sore from the work. Only Hange was around for the vocal lessons and you were pleased with that. Who knows how Levi would tease if he heard your voice as it was now?  

You could sound out your vowels and other simple noises, your irritated huffs and puffs now came with sound, something Levi wasn’t too happy about. Hearing you express your agitation with his presence annoyed him like no other but he often held his tongue. One stern glare would settle you down for the time being, you knew your place and that was enough for now.  

“Oi...” He said, as he opened your cell door just a crack for you to come retrieve your lunch. No response, even though you’re sitting right there in your cell reading at your desk he presumed. Levi rolled his eyes before stomping into the cell and harshly dropping a tray down next to your slumped form. The loud racket from the clanking metal and glass shook you from your slumber. You must have dozed off instead of studying.  

A gleam of cold sweat made your forehead shine as a few loose strands were sticking to you. Levi frowned before snatching his hand away from you, afraid of being too close. He recoiled in disgust before exiting the cell and heading towards Hange’s office.  

“Shitty Glasses, your favorite titan looks sick.” He says wiping his hands clean on his handkerchief. Hange didn’t take their eyes from their microscope lens, they simply hummed at nothing in particular. Levi’s eyes narrowed; he’s sure they hadn’t actually heard a word he said.  

“Oi! You hear me?” He asked, stepping closer, again, he was partially ignored.  

“Huh? Yeah, yeah. Someone’s not feeling too good right?” They said, slipping a new slide under the scope and scribbling notes haphazardly in their messy notepad. Levi pinched the bridge of his nose before kicking at Hange’s stool to garner their full attention. Hange gasped as their arms flailed to grab the desk before them as to not fall on their ass.  

“O-oh! Who’s sick?” They sheepishly asked as they tried to set everything back to rights on their disorganized table. Levi huffed at the scene before him before giving Hange a well-deserved lecture about keeping tidy and listening when they’re spoken to.  

“That brats down there sweating like a hog, get them a bath. She looks shitty.” He said as he turned to make his leave for a cup of steaming black tea.  

“I’m busy why don’t you do it?” Hange complained taking one last glimpse at the specimen in their microscope slide. Levi said nothing, simply leveling Hange with a stare over his shoulder.  

“Joking, joking! Right away!” Hange rushed past Levi in their haste to get a bath running for you. Levi shook his head before continuing down the opposite hallway for his tea and some quiet time in his office signing off on reports.  

You had hardly touched your lunch when Hange got to you. They cocked their head to the side as they watched you pick away at the vegetables on your plate, long gone cold. Hange playfully huffed at the sight, surely a hot bath, fluids, and some rest and you’ll be right as rain.  

You gave Hange a weary smile and wiped your forehead clean of any lingering sweat. Hange returned that smile and ushered you off to the bath, this time allowing you to wash your own hair. The two of your shared a few laughs as Hange walked you through their latest experiments and the daily goings on with the Scouts.  

“They’re really curious about you, you know. Sooner you can talk and we get things cleared up I think Levi will let you meet people.” You snorted at that, sure he would.  

Hange barked a hearty laugh before continuing.  

“He’s actually not so bad when you get to know him.” They said with a soft smile, reminiscing on the good times.  

You scrunched your nose up at the thought but you also were the type to see the good in everybody, and surely, he had some good qualities if Hange could stand him. Of course, he’s strong, intelligent, and admittedly handsome, but is there truly anything charming about his character? Not yet at least, you thought.  

The time spent in the hit bath must have taken its toll on you, your face was flushed red and you were out of breath just sitting there. Your heart was pounding and your vision was growing dark around the edges. You motioned for Hange to come help you stand and with hand movements you told them you desperately needed something to drink. Swiftly, the two of you made it back to your cold damp cell where you shuffled into bed and they were off once again to grab you a cup of warm tea.  

On the way to the canteen for a clean glass, Hange spotted and angry Levi storming down the hallway. Quickly, Hange tried to avoid the Captain but he caught up to them with little effort and grabbed them harshly on the arm.  

“Shitty Glasses... where are those reports I asked for yesterday?” He grilled, folding his arms over his chest with a look on impatience plastered of his pale face.  

“Uh... I got carried away in my research– but, I can work on that right now and get them on your desk tonight!” Hange clasped their rough hands together, almost begging for Levi’s patience. He sighed before he agreed and begin to stalk off further down the hallway.  

“Ah! But can you get our guest some tea? I think she’s just dehydrated. Thank you!” Before Levi could protest Hange was gone in an instant to go finish up those reports as ordered.  

“She’s no guest.” He muttered to himself as he fixed two cups of steaming jasmine tea, adding a bit of mint to both drinks. His light footfalls descended the stairs and you groaned realizing it wasn’t Hange but Levi that was bringing your drink, meaning he’d probably sit down here and watch you until the early evening. You tried to feign sleep, hoping to avoid any awkward interaction with the man but he saw through your trick in an instant.  

He cracked open the cell door before sighing in annoyance.  

“Oi, come get this cup.” You hesitated a moment before tossing the thin sheets off of your body and shuffling towards the bars. You gave Levi a curt nod before graciously taking the warm tea from him and drinking it like you hadn’t had water in weeks. It did well to soothe your aching throat and warm your body instantly.

He quirked an eyebrow at that but instead of commenting he slammed the cell shut before taking his seat. He drank his tea with more patience than you, savoring the cool minty flavor that could ease any illness he ever encountered. Thinking back to Hange’s words earlier you decided to show your gratitude properly now that you finished that delicious tea.  

You raised your tea cup to Levi in cheers before giving the man a shy yet genuine smile. He simply nodded before closing his eyes and continuing to sip his drink. You flopped down onto your bed as your pounding headache began to cloud your senses.  

<3 

For the next three days your mind was foggy. You don’t remember much other than sleeping majority of the day, sweating, a skull shattering head ache, and a fresh cup of tea three times a day.  

You also developed a dry cough that destroyed your throat, unfortunately you found the tea did little to soothe that even though you hardly had the energy to sit up and drink. You looked horrible, soon enough Levi and Hange knew this was no mere dehydration spell. Something was clearly wrong, maybe you were battling a fever of some sort.  

An emergency report was sent to Erwin and the next day he was standing before you, a heavy hand over your forehead.  

“Definitely a fever.” He said, confirming their conclusions.  

“We should move her to the infirmary for the time being until this fever breaks.” He spoke as he pulled the damp sheets from your body. You shivered at the change in temperature, shrinking in on yourself.  

Levi frowned, he wouldn’t like the idea of you being out of your cell and upstairs but you looked gravely ill. He sighed in defeat, if he were in chargehe’d bring any medicine you’d need down here but Erwin was too foolishly kind.  

As you at up to stand with the Commander’s help a sharp pain shot through your chest. You gasped and clutched the sweat laden fabric over your chest, your lungs were on fire, heart pounding against the back of your sternum. You doubled over as a violent cough racked your body, drops of crimson blood spilled to the wet stones underneath your feet.  

Hange gasped, rushing forward to catch you before you hit the ground, your consciousness quickly fading. Levi’s eyes widened at the sight before him, lines of blood spilling from your lips, utter pain etched across your features, drenched hair dripping with sweat, your labored breathing loud and rushed. Erwin rushed out of the cell carrying you up to the infirmary with Levi and Hange hot on his heels.  

Your consciousness was wavering, all you know was that you saw many concerned faces on the way to wherever you were being carried.  

And then everything went black.  

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: like ashes and embers Ship: Dooku/Qui-Gon (but lots of disaster lineage feels) for @shatouto Summary: Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems.  Qui-Gon contemplated his relationship with his Master. AN: Read on AO3! I hope you like it!

Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems. They were at war, fighting for goals he could hardly see clearly anymore. Upon his awakening, he had thought he knew what his goal was, what he should do with his second chance.

It wasn’t so clear anymore. All the lines blurred together and the only truth he could trust in was the Force, his steady companion.

“Master Jinn?”

He turned around, away from the window of his ship.

That too had taken some getting used to. Qui-Gon was no stranger to war itself, he had fought plenty of battles and civil wars. His lineage wasn’t exactly known for being subtle or able to hold back when faced with injustice. While those character traits didn’t make their lives any easier, they were still remarkable and he hoped he had passed those qualities on.

“Ahsoka,” he greeted the apprentice standing in front of her. She moved comfortably in her dark armor, as if it were a second skin, not unlike those of the brothers who followed them. While the clones had made their own culture, taken bits of the Mandalorian stories their template had shared, the Jedi tales they had been taught by their Generals, and something that was very distinctly only them, all traditions acknowledge the need for proper dress on the battlefield. They had, apparently, been quite horrified when they had met little Ahsoka for the first time, not wearing any kind of protection at all.

Ahsoka was no little child anymore. She was still a teenager, yes, but with her seventeen years, she almost stood as tall as her Master. She was bound to surpass him anytime in the next year, something Anakin steadily refused to think about while everyone else had their fun reminding him of it.

“Can I help you?” Qui-Gon asked.

Ahsoka sighed and pointed in the direction of the door. “Grandmaster’s calling, something about our attack on the enemy forces.”

Qui-Gon frowned. He was sure that Anakin was supposed to be in charge of the upcoming battle. They had made quite a lot of plans in that regard, Obi-Wan taking the defense while Qui-Gon sat this one out, his fleet only providing back up if necessary, and already rushing to the next system that needed their help.

“Any last-minute changes?” Qui-Gon asked as he fell into step next to Ahsoka. The young woman shook her head and shrugged. “I thought so, but no. Any idea where Skyguy is, by the way? He said he’d practice my Jar’Kai with me again, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Have you checked Obi-Wan’s cabin?” Qui-Gon replied, amusement coloring his words.

Ahsoka only rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not stupid, that’s the first place I check. It’s not like he actually sleeps in his own cabin, which is entirely unfair because it’s bigger than mine.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the perfect picture of a pouty Padawan. “Maybe I’ll just make a ship-wide announcement. Hey, Skyguy, if you’re done doing-“

“If I’m done doing what exactly?”

Ahsoka jerked as Anakin walked out of the next hallway, already dressed sharply for battle. He too was wearing dark armor and beneath that, black robes, the sigil of their army displayed proudly on his shoulders.

“Uh, nothing?” Ahsoka replied hastily. “Doesn’t matter! You promised me training and you didn’t show!”

Accusingly, she pointed her finger at him, a gesture he was sure she had picked up from Anakin as the young man didn’t even hesitate to mirror her, beginning to lecture about duties and more important things than perfecting her already stunning Jar’Kai. Watching the two of them argue was a delight to say the least. They fit well together, and Anakin was a good teacher to her, despite the few years separating them. Taking on students so close to your own age was always difficult and brought challenges of their own. Qui-Gon had been quite shocked to learn that Anakin had been assigned a student due to the war and some other underlying hopes he didn’t dare think even closer upon. The Jedi had already fallen so low, he did not want to think of even more flaws.

Qui-Gon left the two of them to their bickering and headed towards the door where he knew his Master lingered. He tapped in the key for the door and stepped inside, unphased when the door closed and locked behind him. He was already used to his Master’s antics.

Dooku was standing at the very end of the room, looking outside of the windows to observe the vastness of space surrounding them, similar to the way Qui-Gon had just minutes before.

“Your manners haven’t improved in the slightest,” Dooku said in lieu of greeting, not looking away from the dark.

Qui-Gon suppressed a rather childish snort and walked towards his Master instead. For all that Dooku prided himself on his composure, he could act rather unbecoming at times, disregarding formalities when he was surrounded by people he trusted.

“Because I didn’t knock?” Qui-Gon remarked and stepped next to his Master.

Dooku still didn’t turn to look at him, ever focused on the sight in front of him. His Master never lost focus, never showed any weakness that wasn’t calculated down to the briefest of movements. It reminded Qui-Gon a lot of Obi-Wan, his own so very dear Padawan. For all that Obi-Wan and Dooku had never spent any time together while his Padawan was growing up, he had turned out remarkably similar to his grandmaster. Perhaps that was just the nature of their relationships. Both storms in their own right, Qui-Gon was a wildfire, ever-growing hungry and consuming. By necessity, whoever accompanied him had to be more of a hurricane, possess the eye of the storm where there was silence and brutal calculations.

It was probably for the best that Qui-Gon had never taught Anakin. They would have ended disastrously. They were too much alike, too headstrong.

And too willing to fight with their Masters right up until they wanted to do nothing more than sit at their side, telling them every whispered word of the Force.

The distance that had grown between the two of them after Qui-Gon’s Knighting had hurt him in a manner he still couldn’t entirely grasp, but he was sure that he should have thrown a larger fit over the way Dooku had abandoned him then. Perhaps it had been for his own sake, but it had hurt regardless.

“You are deep in thought, Padawan,” Dooku said. Only now did his eyes travel to Qui-Gon, studying him intensely.

“I was only reminiscing about the past,” Qui-Gon admitted. “The days when I was your Padawan.”

“You still are my Padawan, Qui-Gon,” Dooku was quick to insist.

The possessiveness attaching itself to the statement was almost too obvious for his Master. Anger must be boiling beneath his skin. Qui-Gon wondered what had started it, what had set him off.

“Of course, Master,” Qui-Gon replied good-naturedly. “I was just thinking of the times you taught me how to speak correctly.”

Qui-Gon remembered those days well, had spent hours agonizing about the way his Master used to put one hand to his throat and one on his lower back to guide him to the proper posture, the way he should conduct himself while he spoke. For all that Qui-Gon was known as a brilliant duelist, his true strength had always been with words, compelling arguments crafted in the face of adversary, the will of the Force pressed onto another’s mind.

Qui-Gon had never known whether Dooku had chosen him for his aptitude with manipulations of the mind, but he had certainly been proud of Qui-Gon’s skills. He had invested hours into showing Qui-Gon how to be even subtler, how to trace alongside shadows already present within a mind, how to hide his intention with sweet honey dropping like ambrosia from his lips. Qui-Gon had learned how to ensnare the world for his Master and now he was once more following his Master’s lead, and that with pleasure.

The message of the Force was easier to trace at his Master’s side.

“I enjoyed those lessons,” Dooku confessed. “You sing so sweetly.”

It had never been sweet enough to drag his Master into his bed, though. Qui-Gon had certainly tried to seduce his Master with poems as gentle as the rebirth of spring, the heat of a star, the strength of a blade. He hadn’t been foolish enough to attempt anything more than that, to press his will onto his Master.

It had taken time of course, but Qui-Gon had found his way into his Master’s heart, and his bed. The only thing that had held him back had been the old Jedi sentiment, chains that had to be broken.

They were past that now.

“Something is changing,” Dooku said. “I don’t know what. I believe it has something to do with the enemy delegation we’re supposed to be meeting. I’d like for you to join the talk instead of the fighting.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t sense anything, walking through muddy waters, but if Dooku was so sure, he inclined to believe him.

“And where will you be?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Elsewhere.”

It was a cruel way of implying that he was going to meet with Sidious. Qui-Gon didn’t need to tear through his Master’s shields and make himself at home in his mind to know his thoughts. The thought of the other Sith Master awakened Qui-Gon’s usual more subtle bloodlust. Sidious was a hindrance, a dangerous one at that.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet? We don’t need him anymore. We can take the Republic on our own.”

“Don’t be a fool, Qui-Gon. There is much about the dark side we can still learn from Sidious. He has not yet run out of his use.”

That was something Qui-Gon wasn’t convinced of. “I fear that we give him too much time to discover our plot.”

Sidious had certainly not been pleased about Qui-Gon taking his place as his Master’s right hand., though even the Force, light or dark, could tell that it was right. Qui-Gon frankly speaking didn’t see the point of keeping the other Sith Lord around.

“All will be well, Qui-Gon. You mustn’t worry.”

His Master’s eyes flickered golden, the arrogance of the tyrannical king shining through.

“You will forgive me, but I believe that is impossible. I trust the Force, and the Force is ringing with a warning.”

“Must I forgive you?”

Qui-Gon smiled and then reached for his Master’s neck, tilted his head towards him the same way Dooku used to when he guided him during their lessons. He lingered for just a moment, let himself enjoy the warmth beneath his palm.

“You must,” Qui-Gon announced and captured his Master’s lips in a kiss. There was no hurry to it, no possessiveness, just gentle reassurance almost too compassionate for the shadows they had become, burning embers drenched in the darkness.

Qui-Gon was not a young, fumbling Knight anymore, he was well aware that his Master cared for him and wouldn’t abandon him. When he moved to deepen the kiss, taking Dooku away from the stars and close to his heart, his Master didn’t object. If anything, he indulged Qui-Gon, let him pull at the collar of his robes to suck marks onto his skin while he tangled his hands in Qui-Gon’s hair.

“Then I believe I will,” Dooku replied and tugged at Qui-Gon’s hair to pull him away again so he could kiss him again.

[utterlyinevitable]

hey i know you fell asleep but thank you for the bed time story 🥺🥺🥺

always here to send you fever dream fics on wa 💕 i know it’s not the m fluff you wanted but i did say TBC 👀

transcript under the cut ❤

Post-Bakery Bedtime Story

Mason gets back to the warehouse still dazed and confused as to why the bit at the bakery affected him so much. He doesn’t know why but his feet take him to the library instead of to his room. Nate is sat on his favorite chair by the large window with a tome, Felix is lying on the floor tossing a ball up and down.

“Ah you’re back. The detective make it to work okay?” Felix said with a wink that fell flat when he looked at his friends sullen face. 

Mason shrugged “assume so” 

Nate perked up at the uncertainty in his voice. “Assume so? What do you mean? Did something happen?” 

“I don’t fucking know” m said with such terrifying venom. 

Felix pulled a face and stealthily bolted out of the room. He was not going to stick around for hurricane Mason. Nah ah ah

Nate closed his book and studied the now pacing vampire. Masons hands shoved deep in his pockets and not a cigarette in sight. Not even the faint smell of tobacco that’s synonymous with him tainted his scent and the air. Nate knows it’s because of the detective he stopped smoking. Whether Mason realizes it or not.

“What did you say?” Nate asked knowingly. He wasn’t fully sure Mason said something to upset the detective but 100 years together and his ironclad intuition give him the lead.

“The truth”

“Which is?” 

“It’s not my fault that vile cupcake was sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong” 

“Mason.” Nate all but scolded, speaking volumes with his tone and causing Mason to stop pacing for a moment.

“I think I fucked up” he muttered. All his thoughts culminating to this conclusion.

Nate said nothing. Just waiting for Mason to elaborated on his revelation.

“Lia stomped away. I think she was upset...” But nothing came. Nate watched as Mason’s brows knitted further together and his frown cemented among his freckled features. Whatever happened took it’s toll. 

So Nate asked, “Did you apologize?” 

“Why would I? I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true” 

“If shes upset, you apologize. That’s the right thing to do” 

“Well I damn well didn’t get the chance! She ran right to the station”

“What did you say” Nate basically growled. 

“That all we’re doing is sleeping together. The only ‘seeing’” - he did air quotes with his fingers - “happening is of one another naked”

“Mason...”

He gave Nate a scowl at the sad and patronizing use of his given name.

Time passed silently as the two collected their thoughts. Mason still unsure why he cares so much and Nate afraid for both of them.

Nate breaks the tension. “Is that all that’s going on?”  

“Why would-“ Mason begins to retort, a natural reaction to challenge him. He takes a breath and a pause and then sighs “I hope so.”

Nate nods slowly as he mulls the confession over. He knows exactly why the closed off vampire feels this way and battles whether to break the news to Mason or not. 

Instead he chooses a gentler approach; 

“You care about her. As do we all.”

And then Nate leaves Mason to his own devices

***

That evening Nate volunteered to check up on the detective instead of just simply patrolling, unseen. 

“Oh. Hey” she gave a half hearted smile when he enters her office 

“I’m here to escort you home, if you’ll have me” 

“Thanks. Just need a few more minutes to finish this” 

“Of course.” Nate takes his seat at the table in the corner like usual and gazes around the room trying to assess Mason’s emotional damage. The beat of her heart isn’t consistent with anger. But her demeanor implies somethings amiss

On the walk home he asks “How was your day?”

“Fine” 

“Anything eventful happen?” 

“No. Thankfully.” She takes a pause and kicks a rock. “Actually...” 

Nate perks up, thinking how lucky it is that she’s the one to bring it up and be able to talk about masons mishap. Nate did spend most of the afternoon batting around the implications of the situation on the team, and then the implications of his intervention. 

But then she says, “Verda knows.” 

Nates brows furrowed. Lia notices.  

“About you guys,” she clarifies. Before Nate can respond she quickly adds “his partner eric came by. He’s a supernatural too apparently.” She huffs in disbelief. “and he wants me to convince verda everything’s okay so he can tell him”

NaTe doesn’t really know what to say. The agency needs to know of course. But he also knew Eric is supernatural after their encounter at the carnival - he got the sense. 

Nate wasn’t prepared to have this kind of conversation this evening. 

“How do you feel about that?” he simply asked. 

“I’m glad he knows. That I’ll have somebody to talk to about all this weirdness. But what if he doesn’t come around? What happens if Eric can’t ever tell him, you know? What kind of relationship is that to keep such a big part of your life from the one you love?”

They talk more about this and soon enough they’re at her apartment

And Nate decides to do something out of character. He decides to confront her with his preferred knowledge; “Were you crying earlier?”

She’s taken aback. It’d been hours and she put on a ton of concealer. Damn vampire senses. 

“It doesn’t matter.” There was a fragile finality to her words.  

“Your feelings matter. WhAtever it is”

“It’s stupid.” She shook her head to reaffirm. “My heart got away from me for a moment. It won’t happen again” 

Nate WISHES he could play Cupid. All they needed was a push in the right direction. But they needed to figure this out on their own.

“For what it’s worth, in all my years, listening to your heart is the greatest strength” 

Nate didn’t miss the near inaudible scoff that escaped her

 * * *

So she doesn’t see ub for 4ish days. They’re around. They patrol frequently but no ones come around to say hi and she’s thankful. More time to focus of wtf her heart is trying to tell her and how to deal with verda

She ends up going to the warehouse to pick up Nate. They’ve been texting about the verda situation. Dressed up and ready for the dinner she saunters through the halls and finds him waiting for her in the living room. 

“Damn Lia! You look stunning!” Felix chimes as he takes a look at her in her black dress and matching suede thigh high boots and make up. Very different from the smart dressed detective he sees daily. 

“Thanks” she blushes. She turns to Nate “you ready?” 

“Let me grab my coat” he exits to his room

“Is this a date?” Felix asks innocently enough 

“More like an intervention. Nates good with people and will be able to help verda understand” 

“Makes sense” he agrees. Then nudges her with his elbow “Mason would be the worst option huh” 

“Probably” 

Luckily Nate is back before Felix could read more into the situation and her noncommittal tone. 

“Ready!” He calls and smiles after making sure everything is in order. 

Just as lia is about to meet him in the hallway she nearly collides with Mason entering the room. 

“Hey,” she mumbles politely as she sidesteps him

Mason doesn’t say anything too shocked by her close presence. 

She thinks she hears him grunt and tries to hide her eye roll

As Nate and Lia make their way out of the warehouse mason watches her every movement. Every step. Every sway of her hips and brush of her air in the wind she creates. 

“Feel like groveling yet?” Felix whispers besides him pulling Mason out of the trance. 

“Fuck off”

Masons chest tightens. And he realizes he misses her. Not just her body and her touch but her presence. Her companionship.

Shit

He needs to apologize.

Later that evening, more like in the dead of night, Masons on the roof after patrolling a little earlier than normal but he needed the reprieve at the time. Needed the solitude and distraction patrolling provided. 

Now he’s tuned into nature and so at ease

Until he hears an irregular sound coming from floors below

Not irregular, not really. Not foreign, no. But a familiar thumping

No it couldn’t be.

He’s imagining things

He lights up another cigarette to make it go away

But it persists. It’s still there when he’s done

So he goes downstairs to get a beer to numb the pain. But he takes the route past the room that’s been empty nearly every single night since they moved in.

and it’s there

The steady, calm drum of her heartbeat

And he doesn’t need that beer anymore

He goes into his room two doors down and rests his eyes and body to the sound of her

* * *

The next morning she’s in the smaller, functional kitchen at the table eating an omelet she made along with some coffee. She has a full day of combat training and needs the calories.

Mason waited until he was sure she was relaxed and not distracted to enter. Tbh he’s never been in this room before. No need when human food smells worse than garbage.

He plops himself on the edge of the table opposite her. She doesn’t look up from what she’s reading on her phone. He doesn’t say anything either.

Eventually she takes in a very long very deep breath shuts her eyes puts her phone and fork down exhales and looks at him. Masking her features as best she can in close Proximity

Her left eyebrow raises, silently questioning

He doesn’t know what to say

He didn’t think this far ahead

She has his mind in complete disarray. Everything on his mind in his thoughts is her her her

But she won’t crack first. He can see that. He can feel how cold she is

“Look -“ is all he manages to choke out before she interrupts

“Save it.”

His mouth slams shut at the indifferent hostility

She continues, “what you said was out of line and frankly embarrassing.” 

He gives a tilt of his head in agreement. 

“I don’t need the entire town knowing my business.”

Instinct told him to make a sex joke, but he knew better than to break out the comfortable banter right now. Had enough awareness to see they weren’t back on good terms -- were they ever? 

Lia continued, “I also shouldnt have stormed out. So sorry for overreacting.”

Eventually she allowed for Mason to speak more than one word, “sorry For saying it”

She gave a tight smile. Forced and lacking all the things he’s come to look forward in that toothy grin of hers. 

She pushed her chair out and stood. Mason followed, standing three steps from her. He waited for the hug that she was bound to give him. She must be just as touch starved as he is he hopes.

But instead she picks up her dishes and puts them in the washer and walks out.

-TBC-

_____________

A/N: if you’re not ayla and you’re reading this, thank you for making it this far. and sorry it’s shit. this is just a thing i wrote over whatsapp at midnight because my friend asked for a fluffy m fic 😅

[utt-a]

[utt-archived]

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