#done with the eraser tool | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muletia · 6 months ago

Text

𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝 ₊ ⊹

obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader obsessed!megatron x human!reader obsessed!starscream x human!reader

summary: various mechs react to your injury. didn't specify what happened to reader in starscream' part so you can fill the gaps yourself

cw: angst, hurt, graphic injury (reader), blood and gore, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, very ooc starscream

word count: 2700

thank you!! <33

i may write the 'next part' for other bots too when mood for angst comes back...

He reacted too slowly, missing the leap by mere seconds. Didn’t make it in time to shield you from the stray projectile, which struck directly at your side, piercing the abdomen and immediately knocking you to the ground. He deals with the attacker without hesitation, taking down the Vehicon that had ambushed you during your ride. Quickly moves to your side, shielding from further threats. Something he should have done from the very beginning.

Your eyes are closed, and chest heaves rapidly, chasing after the blood slowly spilling from your wound. Optimus realizes he has never seen your equivalent of energon before. He’s seen bruises and scratches but never blood. Once, he was curious about what it might look like, how it would behave outside your body. Now, he would give everything to erase this image from memory.

He feels disgust—not with you, never with you—but with himself. Because he let this happen. Because your suffering and the scar that will forever remind you of his failure are his doing. He looked into your eyes and swore to protect you at all costs, even at the cost of his own life.

He failed. As always. But you should not bear the harvest of his incompetence.

And to think, he once desired to be your partner, to bear the title of conjunx. Now, as he considers it, the thought feels like a cruel joke.

He’s convinced his entire body is aflame, as though he’s sharing your pain. As if the projectile had torn through his own frame. You deserve this pain, he thinks. Should suffer more, take this burden from you and carry it himself, and preferably, bear it for the rest of his life—an echo of failure, a reminder to never let anything happen to you again.

“[Name]…” he tries, his voice unworthy of a Prime—weak, strained, fighting against his own voice box. “I beg you…” He wants to add more, but physically cannot.

No response. He clenches his servo so tightly that it begins to tremble, energon soon dripping from the stress. The vision of your death flashes through processor. Then remorse, fury, and grief. Days spent admiring you, fantasizing about the future twist into self-torment, revisiting the image of your lifeless body before him because he acted too late.

Cannot allow that future to come to pass. You will not give your life for his mistake. Even if his passion never bears fruit, even if your smile continues to haunt him in his dreams, even if your closeness is limited to shared rides, he will not let you go. He is willing to endure the worst tortures, walk through hell and back, starve and ruin himself just so you can see another sunrise.

“Ratchet, ground bridge. Immediately.” The true Prime emerges. Stern and decisive. “Bring surgical tools.”

The medic arrives swiftly. Unlike his leader, Ratchet doesn’t take an eternity to overcome the shock. He gently lifts you onto his servo and takes you to the base, directly to the operating table. Optimus follows closely behind, optics fixed on you, desperately searching for signs of life.

Optimus doesn’t leave your side, staying through the operation, watching as Ratchet stitches the wound with his trademark precision. The medic refrains from his usual muttering about caution. One look at Optimus’s empty faceplate, devoid of any visible emotion but still fiercely focused on you, reveals the terror within. The fear and guilt have burrowed so deeply that even after the procedure is finished, with you unconscious but stabilized and safe, hooked up to an IV, Optimus does not leave you.

Wants to etch this image into his memory, so it becomes his specter. A motivation to reflect on himself, on your relationship. He must become better, more attentive, and less distracted. Because he isn’t sure if another failure like this would break him. If you were to end up on the operating table again, would he join you in death? Even though he knows it’s a lie. No matter how battered life makes him, no matter how many heartaches you bring him, he is compelled to continue the fight.

He longs to take your pain away. To bear it himself, to atone for his sins. And so he does, staying by your side without pause. Doesn’t eat, doesn’t rest, merely existing and waiting for you to wake up, incapable of doing anything else. He knows the team is worried, that they check in on him, bringing energon, begging him to rest, offering to take over the vigil, but he refuses every time. This is his burden, his failure, and he will not place it on anyone else. He must atone.

Intends to suffer alongside you until you fully recover. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him; doesn’t even dare to hope for it. But will the horror fade into the fog of an unpleasant memory if, from time to time, you grant him the same look you once did?

You lie in his servo, small, trembling, barely alive. Your entire forearm is crushed, and the side of your torso bears claw marks—a result of your encounter with a Vehicon who wasn’t acquainted with human fragility. Megatron’s soldier only intended to carry the runaway back to his master, not realizing that grabbing you by the arm would cause such devastating harm. It wasn’t done on purpose, nor was there any intent to deliberately hurt the partner of the Decepticon leader. Well, it didn’t matter anymore, now that the Vehicon lay dead with several holes in their frame.

Despite the carnage, Megatron doesn’t seem fazed. He carries you to the medbay with his familiar proud stride, showing no signs of stress. Calm and cold-blooded, unnaturally so. Yet his optics remain fixed on you, monitoring you, searching for signs of agony.

"You will survive," he states firmly, words resolute.

This composure is a bluff, a rational decision to avoid spiraling into destruction and despair. You didn’t need his wrath right now, silently demanding rescue. There would be time later for him to unleash his fury, to drive the message into everyone’s heads that if a similar situation ever occurred again, it wouldn’t end with just one Vehicon. He wouldn’t be so composed next time.

"I do not permit you to die," he adds.

In the recess of his servo, blood pools—your reminder that you urgently need medical attention, but also his. Perhaps for the first time since you set foot on the Nemesis. He clings to that need, even though he wishes to experience it under different, more fitting circumstances.

The medic is already waiting in the medbay, preparing the operating table for a small human. Knockout straightens at the sight of his leader and gestures to the empty table, where you are carefully placed. The silver mech steps back but does not leave the room. He intends to witness the procedure, to maintain complete control over it, even if he isn’t the one holding the tools. Needs to be certain that the only thing you leave this room with is scars from the operation. He allows no thought of any other outcome.

"My liege," Knockout begins, but Megatron’s optics remain locked on you. "I must inform you that I’m not yet fully versed in human anatomy."

Fury begins to seep through in the form of bared dentas.

"Well, I trust you are versed enough to save their life."

"Yes, I will do my best, but I must emphasize that the likelihood—"

"Knockout. You have exactly three nanokliks to make a decision. Your life or theirs. What is your choice?"

The medic bows submissively and picks up his tools. "Understood, my lord."

Megatron stays present throughout the entire procedure, closely observing as the bleeding gradually subsides and your body begins to regain its shape. He should be pleased that you’ll survive and soon be able to sit in his servo again—this time not bleeding out. Perhaps you’ll even look at him a bit more kindly when you learn that he personally carried you to the medic and dealt with the wretch who spilled your blood.

Yet his mind keeps returning to the feeling of utter panic he experienced when he saw you barely alive, with a cascade of crimson flowing from your wounds. He hadn’t expected anyone to provoke such a reaction in him—a sensation of dread, of helplessness. It lasted only a moment, swiftly transforming into rage, but it was enough to take him by surprise. Normally, he considers hypotheticals a complete waste of time, but he can’t stop wondering: what if you had died? He knows you won’t, because you belong to him. But if you had truly left him, struck him in his most vulnerable spot by taking yourself away—would anyone have been able to stop him? To halt the devastation before it consumed even him?

"There’s a strong chance they’ll survive," Knockout reports, wiping his servos clean of the unpleasant, human blood.

"I cannot rely on a ‘strong chance,’ Knockout. I need certainty," he growls. "So… is everything fine with [Name]?"

"Yes, my lord. However, they must rest extensively, preferably under the close supervision of a me—"

He doesn’t finish the sentence, as Megatron has already lifted you back into his servo. "I will decide that," he interrupts. "Expect frequent visits. Be prepared." With that, he leaves the medbay.

A claw gently strokes your head, tousling your tangled hair. You’ve already spent too much time in the company of the narcissistic medic—as if he would ever allow you to remain there without his constant vigilance. No, he had sworn to care for you, and not even death could meddle with that vow.

At first, he thinks it’s a weak start to a joke. You like to tell him jokes, maybe that’s how you got to his spark and shaped it into your likeness. He never considered them exceptional, and they were rarely funny, not measuring up to the quality of those from his home planet. But sometimes, they made life more bearable than he’d ever admit because they were yours, and then they became private, reserved just for the two of you.

But the closer he gets, and the larger your figure becomes, the prologue turns cruelly engaging. Because you’re lying motionless on the ground with your eyes closed, and blood seeping from your side. You show no signs of life.

He mass-shifts even before transforming, landing sharply on the ground, pedes digging into the surface.

"[Name]!" he yells. Kneeling beside you, knees sink into the soft earth, staining them with dirt. But his focus remains entirely on your small, unmoving body. "Would you be so kind as to stop joking? Get up!"

Because if this is a joke, it’s exceptionally cruel.

His claws tremble as he brings them closer to you, gently brushing your cheek, trying to rouse you. To make you show him any sign that everything is okay, even though he knows it’s not. As always, he tries to deceive himself, convince himself that you’ll come out of this unscathed, and that the horror before him won’t leave a mental burden behind.

"You fool," he hisses. "This isn’t funny, not even a little, do you hear me? Get up!" Voice cracks, and his strokes quicken. "Ha ha, you got me. Congratulations, one of your pathetic jokes finally caught me off guard. You can stop now..." He’s no longer stating; now, he’s pleading — for mercy, for another dose of humanity that you had mercifully bestowed upon him, even though he never truly deserved it.

With uncharacteristic tenderness, he pulls you into his arms, yearning to feel some sign of life against his body—proof that this isn’t the end. Your heart beats rapidly; feels it drumming against his chassis, granting him temporary peace. But it’s fleeting, as panic swiftly regains control. He doesn’t let it show, the terror boiling inside. He holds you tighter. Optics stare into nothingness as he tries not to think about the implications of your condition and what consequences it might lead to.

"Wake up, do you hear me? Now!" he screams desperately "[Name], please, I feel like I’m losing my mind."

No, you won’t leave him. You can’t do this. You mustn’t.

A faint groan catches his attention, and he gently pulls you away from his chassis to inspect your face. Apparently, you heard his plea, because a grimace appears on your pale face. Starscream can’t discern what it signifies. Pain? Despair? Confusion? Whatever it is, it softens his features, revealing hope that this is, in fact, a poor joke.

You blink rapidly, revealing bloodshot, unfocused eyes that lock onto him. Your chest begins to rise and fall more quickly. And even despite the horror you must feel, the pain burrowing deep into your body, the confusion and exhaustion, you manage to smile for him. As if you had a reason to.

"Star..." you whisper.

"Yes, yes, I’m here! You’re never to scare me like this again, do you understand? Never." His last word is a growl, though his servos remain gentle.

Hearing your voice anchors his thoughts, letting him focus on the possibility that things will be alright. That you’ll both come out of this unscathed, because this entire farce was driving him to madness. But he realizes he doesn’t want to hear you say his name as though it were for the last time. As if it were a farewell. No. You promised him eternity. You broke him, reprogrammed his processor to think only of you, infected his body to make it weep when he hadn’t seen you for too long, and now you intended to leave him? No. He won’t allow it. You swore eternity, and you will keep that promise. Otherwise, it would prove he truly didn’t deserve softness. That he was never meant to know comfort.

"Frag," he curses, lowering his helm because, for some reason, he can’t bear to look at you. Instead, he notices the crimson stain on your side growing, overtaking your shirt and slowly reaching your pants. His olfactory senses are assaulted by the metallic, unpleasant smell, and he concludes that this must be the scent of human death. "Did he do this to you? Hurt you? Violate you?"

Did Megatron finally find out about your relationship? Recognized you as a weak point, a tactic to get to him in the most devastating and cruel way? He searches his memories for provocation, an act of defiance, another attempt to seize power, though he’d recently tried to keep his head down, to behave. For you, so this would never happen. But Megatron needed no particular reason to strike. Especially not him.

Vents a sigh of relief when you weakly shake your head, but it’s not enough to restore calm. You’re still suffering, still bleeding out, and he is powerless. Usually, such powerlessness was closely tied to irritation when he lost control over his own fate. Now, he feels only a chilling terror in his lines at the thought of losing you. Of losing the love you gave him.

"Good... That’s good." It’s not good. Nothing is fragging good.

Your eyelids begin to flutter again, as if you’re fighting with yourself to stay conscious. You try to focus on him, keep your gaze fixed on a single point, but your eyes refuse to cooperate, rolling back.

"[Name]?" your chest rises and falls rapidly. "You must hold on, do you hear me?! Hey, hey! Focus!"

"S-Star..." you try, even quieter than before. "It hurts... help..."

"Stay with me, now. Please," his voice cracks. "You won’t leave me alone, will you? You promised..."

"It hurts..."

"I know, I know, hold on." He repeats himself. Knows how to get out of this situation, to use the last resort. It involves enormous risk and danger, especially for you, but he can’t hesitate any longer. Can’t wait. Can’t lose you.

He sends a message to Ratchet.

"Just a little longer, [Name]." He soothes, though he no longer knows who needs reassurance more. "Don’t make me die with you."

#transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #optimus prime x reader #megatron x reader #obsessed!megatron #starscream x reader #obsessed!starscream

966 notes · View notes

petermorwood · 1 year ago

Text

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

#period lighting #tinderbox #too light too dark #social history #writer notes #research #period tech #sword vs lantern #c. j. cherryh

2K notes · View notes

heliosunny · 5 months ago

Note

Fyodor Dostoyevsky being affectionate and touchy for the first time with a woman he adores so much realizing how she makes him feel and how in love he is with her.(lovesick fyodor is a wonderful thought 🙏‼️)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky never kept his assistants for long. They were useful, yes, but disposable—like pawns in a grand chess game. Once their purpose was served, he discarded them without a second thought, their existence erased as if they had never mattered.

But you… You were different.

He should have gotten rid of you already. By now, you should have been just another name wiped from his memory, another forgotten tool in his intricate schemes. And yet, he found himself hesitating. Delaying. Watching you with an unreadable expression as you worked diligently beside him.

You weren’t weak. You weren’t incompetent. But that wasn’t what spared you. No, there was something else.

"You seem distracted, Fyodor" you remarked one evening, your voice laced with curiosity. You didn’t fear him the way others did. A foolish mistake—or perhaps an irresistible charm.

He tilted his head, watching you with a quiet intensity. "Do I?"

"You do." You turned to face him fully, unaware of the way his fingers twitched at his sides, resisting the impulse to reach for you.

He had touched you once before—briefly, fleetingly. A gloved hand brushing against yours when he handed you a file. A whisper of contact that left an imprint he couldn’t shake. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. But no matter how much he rationalized, the truth was undeniable. He couldn’t get rid of you.

Not because of logic. Not because of strategy. But because the mere thought of you vanishing from his world filled him with an unfamiliar, unsettling sensation—something he refused to name.

"Perhaps" he murmured, stepping closer, his presence swallowing the space between you, "you are the distraction."

Your breath hitched as he reached up, his fingers finally breaking their restraint to brush against your cheek. He was testing something—testing himself.

Would he recoil? Would he let go?

No.

Instead, he cupped your face fully, his grip firm, almost possessive. His thumb traced your cheekbone, his eyes dark and unreadable. He was always so controlled, so untouchable. But right now, standing before you, his walls were crumbling.

"You've done something unforgivable, Y/N" he whispered, his lips dangerously close to your skin.

You swallowed, the weight of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "And what would that be?"

His smile was slow, almost amused, but there was something predatory beneath it. "You've made yourself irreplaceable."

-----

You had always known that Fyodor Dostoyevsky was not a kind man.

But until now, you had only seen him in dimly lit rooms, shuffling through papers, playing mind games with unseen enemies, and speaking in soft, almost poetic riddles. You had been his assistant—handling documents, gathering contacts, and making sure every piece of information fell into place.

You had never seen him act on his cruelty firsthand.

Not until tonight.

The warehouse was cold and dimly illuminated by flickering overhead lights. The air smelled of damp concrete and something metallic- blood. You stood frozen at the entrance, your fingers gripping the edge of your coat as you watched him work.

A man knelt before Fyodor, trembling, pleading, his voice raw with desperation.

"You failed me" he murmured, his voice gentle—almost kind. "And I don’t have the patience for disappointment."

The next moment was swift, decisive. A flick of his wrist, a signal to Ivan and Sigma, and the man’s pleas were cut short.

Your stomach twisted as his body crumpled to the ground.

This wasn’t the same Fyodor who murmured cryptic thoughts in the dark. This wasn’t the man who would occasionally pause his reading to glance at you, lost in silent contemplation. No—this was something else.

This was the demon others feared.

Your breath was shaky as you took an unconscious step back, but his voice stopped you.

"Y/N" he called, soft yet firm. He turned toward you, his violet eyes locking onto yours with unsettling ease. "Come here."

Fyodor held you against him, his grip firm but not painful, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your jaw as he forced you to watch.

Blood pooled at the center of the room, bodies discarded like broken chess pieces. The sounds of gasping breaths and the final, pathetic pleas of his victims echoed in your ears, but Fyodor’s voice was the only thing you could truly hear—low, amused, intoxicating.

“Tell me” he murmured, pressing a gloved finger beneath your chin to tilt your face toward his. “Does this unsettle you?”

Your breath hitched, but you refused to look away. “You already know the answer.”

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Mm, I do." His fingers trailed from your chin, down the curve of your throat, lingering there as if testing your pulse—measuring just how fast he could make your heart race.

The worst part was that he knew. He knew you hadn’t betrayed him, hadn’t leaked information. You had been nothing but loyal. But that didn’t stop him from playing his games, from toying with you like a cat with a mouse it had no intention of letting go.

“You’re cruel” you whispered, glaring up at him.

Fyodor chuckled, his free hand sliding to your waist as he pulled you flush against him. "Cruel? No, my dear. If I were cruel, I would not be holding you like this.”

His grip tightened, warm even through the fabric of his coat.

"You see, I had to wonder" he continued, his voice laced with amusement. "If you would flinch when you saw this side of me. If you'd run. If you'd beg." His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But you didn’t."

His arms caged you in, his touch both teasing and consuming. “Do you know how much that excites me, Y/N?” His voice dropped to a whisper, a soft hum that sent an unbearable heat curling in your stomach. “Knowing that no matter how dark I am, you are still here.”

You swallowed hard, unable to speak.

"You are fascinating" he mused, his fingers ghosting along the curve of your cheek, thumb pressing lightly against your bottom lip. "Perhaps even dangerous." Then, he laughed—soft, beautiful, sinful. "How delightful."

One evening, as he sat in his chair, a glass of wine in one hand and a chess piece in the other, he finally spoke of his next plan.

"Dazai's plan huh." he mused, rolling the black king between his fingers. "It is time we end our little game, don’t you think?"

Your chest tightened. The war that had been brewing in the shadows was about to reach its boiling point. And this time… you would be right in the middle of it.

-----

The first step of his plan had succeeded. The enemy had fallen, the pieces had shifted, and now, a new alliance had been forged.

The newcomer sat across from Fyodor, their eyes calculating, cold. "Your assistant" they said, their voice sharp. "You should get rid of them. For safety."

Your breath caught, but you forced yourself to remain still. You didn't look at Fyodor. You knew better than to let your expression betray anything.

Silence stretched for a moment too long.

Then, Fyodor let out a slow hum, swirling the tea in his cup before taking a sip. "Yes" he finally said, nodding as if considering it. "Perhaps you are right."

Your stomach dropped.

For the first time, uncertainty crawled under your skin. He wouldn't—would he?

"Good" the new ally said with approval, leaning back. "We’ll handle it."

Fyodor’s lips twitched, barely noticeable. “How thoughtful.”

You felt his hand brush against yours beneath the table, deliberate, slow.

It was a message.

He had no intention of letting them touch you.

Later that night, in the solitude of his chambers, he pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you like chains you could never escape.

"Did I scare you?" he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your neck, his voice laced with dark amusement.

"You nearly made me think you were serious." you admitted, your voice steady despite the way his touch set you on fire.

His hand trailed up your spine, slow, savoring. "And if I were?"

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Then I wouldn’t be here now, would I?"

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Exactly."

His lips brushed against your temple, his fingers curling around your waist. "You see, my dear… I don't need to get rid of you." His grip tightened, and he let his lips linger just a moment longer.

"I need you."

#yandere x reader #yandere #bsd x you #bsd x reader #yandere bsd #yandere fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky

436 notes · View notes

doggyspeakart · 3 months ago

Text

✩ Make your own Kyrii Plushie ✩

Thank you @free-sewing-patterns and @jestersneopia for asking so kindly for me to release my pattern dupe! :3 These guys are very intricate little plushies so I did my best to make something comprehensive. I also made detailed instructions which I will include after the readmore, so long post ahead!

McD's Plush Kyrii

What you will need:

•The two included images printed on 8.5"x11" (A4/Letter) paper.

•Enough of your desired Fabrics (reference the pattern size on your paper, you don't really need much at all)

✩ I recommend a short pile faux fur or other nonstretch fabric for the two body colors, and a long pile (1-4cm) faux fur for the mane and tail.

✩ You can also make the mane and tail using yarn or doll hair wefts by attaching them (sewn or glued) to a backing fabric like cotton or felt.

•Scissors or precision knife to cut fabric.

•Sewing implements (needle, pins, thimble, thread scissors, etc.)

•Thread matching one or both of your body color fabrics.

•black thread or embroidery floss for the mouth embroidery.

✩embroidery floss or thread in your desired eye colors (recommended a white for sclera, an iris color, and a black for outlines)✩OR✩buttons or safety eyes in your desired size and color.

•Stuffing (two or three handfuls of polyfill will do the job)

✩ribbon or cord to use as arm tension band and/or a loop to clip hardware like keychains and backpack hangers.

((✩ optional ))

General note: default suggested stitch length is 3mm apart unless stated otherwise.

Step 1

Print out the pattern, making sure to format your printer to use the full page with no margins. Check print preview to be sure nothing is cut off. (I made the piece inventory sheet to sort of offset any default margin weirdness but I'm new to this so let me know if it messes up.)

Step 2

Conceptualize your design and gather your materials. Are you cloning one of the plushies already out there, or making your own design? It is always good to keep reference on hand during any art project!

What special design elements are you translating to plush form? Keep in mind this pattern is small and intricate and it might be easier to omit or simplify certain design elements if you are working from something more detailed.

The cutting guide assumes 1 base color, 1 accent color, and 1 fur color with no significant shape, size, or design difference to the original McD's plushie. (Only a few fixes for symmetry and fur direction.)

Step 3

Prepare your base material for cutting. If you are doing embroidery or applique designs this may be easier while the fabric is flat and whole. Same with fur wefting, do anything like that while you have one big piece of fabric to work with. Trace the pattern pieces using chalk, heat erase pen, or some other washable marking tool using the cut guide provided. (I recommend cutting out any shape you need to add details to from the pieces inventory page, then trace those pieces on your fabric in roughly the same positions as the cut guide page.) Then do any embroidery or details you need to do while the pattern is flat.

Embroidery tips:

• Use a stiff backing piece like interfacing or felt behind your fabric to make the embroidery more durable and stiff.

•Use a back stitch or chain for lines, line in color for crisp color-changes.

•Parallel vertical lines close together catch the light and read as blocks of color best.

•Don't use stitches that are too long or loose, build stitches up diagonally like a brick pattern instead, the key is to attempt to stay parallel.

•If you are using sewing thread instead of embroidery thread, use two or three strands at once to save time.

•When you are done, cut away your backing fabric/interfacing a little outside where your embroidery stops so as not to interfere with future seams.

Step 4

Cut out your materials. If you didn't need to trace from the pieces inventory for pre-cut details, then you can just pin the cut guide paper to your fabric and cut it directly. Otherwise simply follow your trace and cut out your pieces. Be sure to keep track of which pieces go on the left and right of your plushie.

Step 5

Begin assembly by sewing all your darts first, those will be on each side of your face, inner leg, arm bottom, belly, and back pieces. Follow the blue lines that appear anywhere that says "dart" and any sew lines that create a V-like dip in the perimeter of the piece (like the arm bottom and belly pieces). Fold the seam allowance inside your seam so that the right sides of the fabric end up with a clean, unnoticeable seam. I recommend a tight, short straight-stitch about 2mm apart on darts.

Step 6

Make the loose body parts.

Sew together ears, arms, and tail by placing right sides together and sewing around based on the solid black lines in the pattern.

•Each ear will have a base color piece and an accent color piece. Make sure their shape lines up so that right sides of the fabric are together. The ear pieces are fairly flat and their sew lines should line up perfectly. Use any stitch you are comfortable with, straight stitch about 3mm apart works just fine.

•Sew one top arm piece and one bottom arm piece together for each arm. The discrepancy in their shapes creates a slight twist that gives the arm part a tube-like shape. I recommend pinning the pieces at the ends and wrist first to get the tension/gathering correct on the arm part. Any stitch works but a straight stitch will probably be easier to keep track of tension with or to rip if you make a mistake and need to retry. Keep it tight, about 2mm apart.

•For the tail, sandwich your pieces right sides together so that all the fur is tucked inside and you can sew the edges with a secure stitch like a whip or back stitch.(about 3-4mm apart) You might need to pick or brush out the fibers if they get caught in the seam.

Once you finish each piece, flip it inside out, wrong sides should remain inside while the right sides of the fabric show and all seam allowance remains inside. If any edges are having trouble flipping inside out, use a thin tool like a crochet hook or chopstick to prod them from the inside.

Stuff the 2 arms until they hold a 3D shape, firm fill recommended. Leave the other pieces in this step unstuffed.

You should have two ears, two arms, and one fluffy tail.

Step 7

Shape the face.

With the dart now sewn into the cheek, the two seams with the || registration marks should be much closer in length. Line the seam up according to the marks and fudge the rest of the length using tension. I recommend using a ladder stitch on the right sides while keeping in mind the general size of the seam allowance.

Repeat on the other side.

When you are done, your face piece should have curvy cheeks.

Step 8

Build up the head.

Connect the forehead piece to the face piece, the curve's center goes right above the nose.

Sew in the chin piece along lower jaw.

There is a bit of leeway into how long the ears will be and which angle they stick out. For best results, give it a test right side out and pin where you like the ears to stay.

The ears go into the notches on the top of the face piece, about half of the ear should fit into that notch. Sew it into that notch, any remaining ear folds around that top seam towards the forehead and is stitched down to give the ear a slight curve that helps it remain upright.

When you're finished you should have the (bald) head.

Step 9

Construct the body.

Sew the two inner leg pieces onto the sides of the belly piece.

Sew the back pieces onto the belly and inner leg piece, leaving the arm notches alone to make the arm holes. Sew all the way around the inner leg and to the center line on the belly where the dart seam sits. There may be some overlap/extra on the back piece.

Sandwich the tail between the two back pieces and sew them together. You can adjust the angle of the tail before you sew it in, the original plushie has its tail sticking up behind the back. (Tip: if you fully close the tail seam you can use a loose couple of stitches to attach it to the body to make a hanging tail that wags when you pick up and shake the plushie.)

Your current parts should be a head, a body, two arms, and the hair piece.

Step 10

Attaching the hair piece to the head.

(OPTIONAL): First, if you want to add a keychain loop like the original plushies, snip two tiny holes into the backing of your hair piece about 6mm apart and feed a small length of cord or ribbon inside to create a loop on the outside.

Leave plenty of slack on the ends of the loop for a more sturdy hold.

Secure the loop and holes with a lot of sewing and/or glue to keep the fur fabric from fraying. Stitch down the ends of the cord/ribbon to the backing of your hair piece.

Start sewing the hair piece to the head beginning with the hairline along the forehead to get it nice and clean. Next sew across the ears and down the face piece on both sides.

Your head should now have hair, with the rest of the mane hanging down behind.

Step 11

Sew head to body.

Make sure the chin piece lines up to the belly piece, the bottom of the head should line up with the rest of the back piece on either side.

Next, sew down one side of the hair piece to the back piece, connecting the bottom edge to the seam near the tail and stopping.

Leave the other side seam of the hair piece open for arm adjustment and stuffing.

Step 12

Attach the arms.

Tension Band Explanation:

The original plushies have an arm tension band inside to keep the plushie's shape and seams intact when pulling on the arms. Generally I think this can be skipped without much issue, but could be a good idea if you plan to use this as a bag hanger or keychain plush, as the arms are the extremities most susceptible to getting caught on things, and when they are secured more comprehensibly they are less likely to rip the plush apart when yanked. Not a big deal if you just plan to keep them around the house.

(OPTIONAL): If you want to install your own arm tension band, start with the plushie right-sides-out. Sew the band to one arm and pull it taught through the chest to the other arm, securing the tension band before sewing the arms into the body piece.

To sew the arms, be sure to pose them and pin them in place right-side out first. (originals usually have one arm down and the other up on their chins/waving, though they vary a lot and there are plenty of ways to position them for different expressions.)

Then, either turn insideout again or ladder stitch the arms into place.

Almost there! You should have all your pattern pieces together at this point.

Step 13

Stuffing the plushie.

Make sure your plushie is right side out, with no incorrect seams or holes other than one of the seams between the hair piece and back piece. If you need to, gently prod a crochet hook or chopstick along the backs of seams to turn them out.

OPTIONAL: To make a weighted plush, add a small mesh bag of plastic pellets or weight of your choice to the bottom of the plushie before stuffing.

Add in your polyfill, pillow fluff, yarn fibers, scraps, or whatever you decide to stuff the plushie with, paying attention to the density of the stuffing.

I recommend keeping the head and feet more densely stuffed to keep their shape while leaving the body a bit more loose for a squishable belly.

Step 14

Close up the last seam.

Using a ladder stitch, close up your last seam, pulling tight and tying off your thread at the end for a clean, invisible seam.

Now that all the seams are in, you can now brush or pick any long fibers from the hair and tail out of the seams.

The plushie is whole! You can keep it like it is, or do some thread sculpting for a more finished look!

Step 15

Thread Sculpting.

(OPTIONAL):

Using thread in the color of your body fabrics, you can pull tension at various points to create a more sculpted shape. The original had two through the face (vertically through the chin up behind the forehead, and horizontally between the corners of the eyes), and two over top of each hand and foot to look like the separation of the toes. See the original pattern pieces for precise placement.

And that's it! You should have a finished plush kyrii!

If you have any questions or concerns please contact doggyspeak. Feel free to use this pattern, share it, or edit it with or without credit.

PLEASE DO NOT SELL THIS PATTERN OR INSTRUCTIONS! IT IS BOTH NOT ORIGINALLY DESIGNED BY ME AND ALSO SOMETHING I'VE WORKED VERY HARD ON!

If you would like to see more pattern reconstructions from me, show me your finished plushies and provide feedback and suggestions to me. I would love to see what you have made and hear what you'd like to see next! ^o^

#neopets #Next time I make a new kyrii plush I will snap pictures of each step to add to the instructions!#doggyspeakart #plushie #plushie pattern #sewing patterns #bootleg #thanks for your patience I got over an illness 2 weeks ago and have spent most of my free days since then doing dentist or house stuff!!

239 notes · View notes

the-cosmic-cauldron · 29 days ago

Text

Unpopular Synastry Opinions (From the Voice of Pain) — Part 2

I don’t bite my tongue. So brace yourself.

• Conjunctions need to be talked about more in synastry.

You don’t want a conjunction with afflicted planets—Mars, Chiron, Saturn, Pluto, Lilith. These are harsh energies. For example, Mars conjunct Venus? Venus wants love and beauty. Mars wants dominance and aggression. That’s not sexy; that’s toxic. And it gets worse depending on the sign. In Libra, this same conjunction might look passive-aggressive—two people constantly undermining each other while smiling through gritted teeth.

Same with a Scorpio Moon conjunct Scorpio Moon—the Moon is emotional, and Scorpio is trauma-bond central. You don’t fall in love—you entangle. Be very careful with conjunctions. Study both planet and sign.

• I don’t give a shit about Moon connections if your dominant element contradicts it.

A Cancer Moon in a chart dominated by fire? Irrelevant. A Libra Moon in a water-drenched chart? Muted. The dominant element is more potent than your Moon. You can have Moon conjunct Moon with someone and still feel emotionally dismissed.

• Saturn in synastry is enough to run.

I don’t care what anyone says. Pain doesn’t make you stronger—releasing pain does. People say married couples have Saturn contacts. Yes, and many of them are enduring silent suffering. That’s not love, that’s survival. Our grandmothers called it “commitment.” I call it emotional imprisonment.

• North Node synastry is often the most imbalanced dynamic you’ve ever experienced.

It demands growth. And you know what most people do with growth? They fold. It’s one person accelerating while the other clings to the past. One outgrows, the other decays. You don’t always grow with your North Node synastry—you grow away from it.

• Stay away from Mars synastry if you’re sensitive or water-heavy.

Mars isn’t just sex. It’s dominance. Obsession. Possession. If their Mars aspects your Moon or Venus and they have a fire or earth-heavy chart? Run. Because they don’t want to love you—they want to own you.

• Pluto synastry is the hardest to leave.

Try leaving someone with Pluto contacts—you’ll trigger their deepest fears. Then what? Stalking. Harassment. Manipulation. Blackmail. Trauma bonding disguised as love. It’s not deep—it’s dangerous.

• 8th house overlays with someone who’s earth- or air-dominant?

They will emotionally avoid you. They’ll intellectualize what you feel. They’ll withdraw from the depth you crave. Don’t give 8th house intimacy to someone who’s allergic to emotional nakedness.

• Moon-Venus synastry sucks when your elements clash.

Think of it this way: the Venus person is loving, expressive, maybe even drenched in water energy. The Moon person, backed by air placements, doesn’t know how to give that nourishment back. Unbalanced. Heartbreaking. Disorienting.

• Neptune in synastry is sweet until you see clearly.

You thought it was spiritual? It was a dream. A fog. A lie. When you finally wake up from a Neptune illusion, you won’t just be sad—you’ll be furious.

Let’s talk aspects:

Trines are lifelines—especially when afflicted planets are involved.

Pluto-Venus?

Chiron-Sun?

Mars-Venus?

Mars-Moon?

These need ease. A trine can save your ass.

Even Saturn-Venus—if it’s going to show up, let it be a trine. Trines won’t erase the challenge, but they allow integration without devastation.

Sextiles are the REAL growth aspects.

Growth doesn’t come from opposition in synastry—it comes from compatibility with room to stretch. Sextiles are where the tools already exist; the work just needs to be done.

Mercury-Mercury? You learn to communicate.

Sun-Moon? You evolve in understanding.

Sextiles = fertile ground.

• Not all synastry is a blessing. Some will make you regress.

Some synastry is so unbalanced, you’re the healed one dealing with someone who hasn’t even started their journey. Be cautious. Love doesn’t require sacrifice—it requires alignment.

Signs to double-check in synastry ( OR YOU’LL BE CRYING FOR 30 DAYS & 30 NIGHTS)

• Libra: Harmony seekers, but too logical. Growth struggles in their passivity.

• Capricorn: Avoids emotional conflict. Escapes into work and distraction.

• Virgo: Dissects emotions like lab experiments. Vulnerability is their greatest struggle.

• Aries: Intense, bored easily. Emotionally inconsistent.

• Gemini: Commitment requires constant stimulation. Predictability repels them.

• Scorpio: More strategic than romantic. Love feels like a study.

• Aquarius: Romantic neglect is their blind spot. Detached. Prioritizes everything but you.

Houses that make it hard to leave: ( I’m talking break-up to make-up, Mercury rx and Venus rx bringing you back, calling off of no caller ID, stalking their social media, 1000 of apologies and make-up sex)

• 2nd: Possessiveness. Tangible security.

• 3rd: Mental stimulation. You learned so much.

• 4th: Emotional intimacy. Safety.

• 5th: Pleasure. Joy. Creativity.

• 6th: Devotion. They took care of you.

• 7th: Projection of long-term potential.

• 8th: Shared shadows. Deep exposure.

• 9th: Big dreams. Future plans. Soul talks.

• 12th: Unexplainable soul pull. You think of them without meaning to.

#astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #astrology #astro placements #astro community #astro posts #astro rants #astro reading #astro love

302 notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

#red hot ghouls #jason todd #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

1K notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 3 months ago

Text

Doctor's In - Chapter 18

Summary: You have fun at Carol's bridal shower.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

A/N: This is short, but maybe next chapter will close out this "arch" of the story :)

Pietro is definitely enjoying his own space. Barnes has long shifts which means he has the apartment all for himself most of the times, and even when his roommate is around, he mostly keeps to himself.

Still, there are some stuff left at his sister’s house and he thinks nothing of it as he lets himself in, approaching what was once his room.

The sound of voices stops him dead in his tracks.

“To the left, yeah, there. That’s it” you say, out of breath.

“You sure? It feels kind of tight”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to, baby. Now harder. Exactly, just like that”

Pietro wants to throw up or erase his memory to forget he even heard you two. But before he can exit the house, you’re opening the door.

“Hey, man. You scared me. We didn’t hear you come in” you say, too casual for his liking.

“Yeah, I could tell”

“What do you mean by that?” Wanda comes out of the room, carrying some tools and a couple of wooden panels.

Well, that’s a relief.

“You fixing something?” he changes the subject, saving himself the trouble of explaining he thought you were busy having sex.

“Yeah, some stuff Wanda built and others she tried to repair. I’m done with the fence, gotta check the deck and then I’ll do the new shelves before I call it a day. I’m tired” you say, coming back with a glass of water for Wanda.

“The shelves are fine” she says and you snort. “Why are you laughing?”

Her sudden anger makes you pale and Pietro slowly walks to his former room to get his stuff and flee out of there. By the time he’s done you’re arguing.

“Babe, come on! Look at this. They’re lose, if you place anything there it will fall. Probably take a piece of the wall with it”

“They are perfectly fine” Wanda insists.

“Oh, so if I were to put this very valuable and fragile Tiffany lamp, it wouldn’t fall off? Is that what you’re saying?” you challenge her, grabbing the lamp and inching closer to the shelf. Wanda crosses her arms, glaring.

“If you break that lamp…”

“Well, it’s not gonna happen, because the shelves are fine. Right?” you say, finally placing it there. A second later the panel tilts and you catch the lamp before it reaches the floor. “Ha! Told you”

“You are such an ass! I’m going to take the kids with Clint and Laura and I hope that by the time I’m back you’re ready to apologize!”

“Right after you!” you say, grabbing the drill.

“I am…” Wanda begins to say, but you make noise with the drill to interrupt her. “I am not…” she huffs as you keep doing it. “I am NOT APOLOGIZING!”

“FINE” you shout over the noise.

Pietro regrets not recording this because it’s hilarious, but then Wanda turns her attention to him.

“Why are you still standing here? Don’t you have stuff to do? When are you getting a job?”

“Wow, slow down, mom” he tries to joke, but his sister tilts her head and he knows he’ll get cooked. “You’re right, I better go find a job. Bye”

Wanda leaves and you relax a little bit. She’s trying to help you repair the things inside the house and while you appreciate it, it’s a little overwhelming. You’re used to working alone, and you have to slow down as you explain some things to her.

Honestly, why would she even want to know how to do it? You’re always around to fix things. The timing of your fight sucks too, considering the twins are having a sleepover and Pietro’s on his own place now.

Looks like the only screaming you’ll have today will be from arguing. And to be fair, you could roll over on your back and apologize but you don’t feel like it. You were both too stubborn.

So, you keep working and by the time you’re done, you hop in the shower and then stay in bed, snoozing.

Wanda comes home to a quiet house and for a moment she thinks you might be out walking to clear your head. But then she goes upstairs and finds you fast asleep, wearing a tank top and briefs.

She regrets being so hot headed and ruining the night, but she also knows you well enough to guess you’ll be pouting unless Wanda takes extraordinary measures to make it up to you.

So, she goes to the bathroom and jumps in the shower. The sound of running water wakes you up and when Wanda’s done, she notices you’re finally up.

“Hey. Wanna order thai food?”

“Fine” you answer, grabbing your phone and paying attention to anything but her.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be moody, detka” she says, and you frown.

“I’m not the one who started it, Wanda. You were very dismissive, when I was just trying to help out”

“Well, I just felt like you were being condescending”

“Come on, you know I wasn’t. If you want my help at least don’t be mad when I do what you ask…”

The bathroom door opens and you turn as you talk, but your words get stuck as Wanda walks out, wearing a pink babydoll and nothing else.

“When I ask you…? You were saying” she says innocently, walking towards you.

“Yeah. When you ask me to do you. I mean to help you” you shake your head, eyes not leaving her figure.

“Mmm, you’re right” she admits, and you gasp as she climbs to your lap, holding on to your shoulders.

“I am?” you ask like an idiot.

“Yes, baby. You help me out so much, and I was a little bratty. I should be a good girl for you”

“Wanda” you sigh when she kisses the spot behind your ear, her hands going down to your arms.

“Yes?”

“I… forgot what I was going to say”

“Then stop talking” she says against your lips, kissing you a second later. You moan against her mouth, hands flying to cup her ass.

“Nu-uh. Sit back” she says, taking out a small piece of rope to tie you up.

“Babe, come on” you whine.

“I thought you liked to be tied up”

“I do but not now. I wanna touch you”

“Too bad. Hands over your head”

You scoff and whine but she’s not giving in, so with a final sigh, you do as she asks and lift your hands over your head. Wanda climbs over your lap to tie them to the headboard, her breasts right at eye level. She yelps when you sink your head in her cleavage, nibbling at the exposed skin.

“I said no touching”

“Not touching. Biting”

“Cheeky” she reprimands, but her expression softens a second later. “They’re not too tight?”

“I’m good” you shake your head, eager to see what she’ll do next.

Whatever it is, you know Wanda’s ready to tease you when she has that predatory smrik on her face.

She kneels in the bed, lowering her underwear until you can see her exposed cunt, a wet stain on the fabric. Wanda throws them your way, and your mouth waters when you see her sliding one finger inside, moaning.

“Are you tight?” you ask, breathing heavy when she moans, adding a second finger.

“And wet. I wish it was your cock, baby”

“Untie me, come on. I’ll fill you up real nice, Wanda” you push against the rope, but she just laughs, taking her fingers out and licking them clean, her tongue swirling slowly.

“What do you want to do to me?” she asks, straddling your leg so her center rubs off against it.

“So much. Spank you, mark you, fuck you until you can’t walk”

“Sounds good. But for now, this will have to do” she smiles, rubbing herself against your leg. You moan at the feeling of her arousal smearing against you, and struggle to break free so you can touch her. “You’re making me feel so good”

“Imagine if you’d untie me. I could…”

“Oh, shush” she rolls her eyes, picking up her underwear and stuffing it in your mouth. “You’re distracting me”

“Mmffp” you mumble against the fabric.

“Come on, be a good girl and let me use you, honey. Then you’ll get what you want” she promises, increasing the speed of her movements until she’s breathing heavily, her tits bouncing up and down with the strenght of her thrusts.

You can’t even get some friction between your legs, Wanda holding on to your hips to keep you in place. So, all you can do is admire the way Wanda mewls and moans as her orgasm approaches. After a second, she digs her nails in the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. The movement sends her over the edge, and Wanda comes with a strangled cry.

“So good for me” she says, leaning against your chest.

You push the underwear out of your mouth, eager to make her come again.

“Can I touch now?”

“In a minute” Wanda says after looking you up and down. “I think I want to ride your face first”

The night just got ten times better.

—

Maybe it’s because you got used to running around in Boston, but now that you’re back in Westview, the workload always seems managable. Even now with five people and a surgery, you’re dealing just fine with the stress.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Darcy says as you examine a kid, waiting for Kamala to come back with his X-rays.

“Did you try here? In the ER? Where I’m always working. Sorry, buddy” you add when the kid complains.

“You know I don’t come to enemy territory. Barnes…”

“First of all, he is not here today. Second, this feud is one-sided. I promise you he doesn’t have any issues with you” you say, greeting Kamala when she hands over the X-rays. “Fracture. We’re gonna have to put a cast on your ankle. Sorry, kiddo”

“That’s fine, I’ll get lots of ice cream and play videogames”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit. Kamala, can you get everything ready? We’re just waiting for his father to come back with the insurance info”

“Right away”

“Anyways, I was looking for you because I wanted to check if you made the reservation at the stri…”

You clear your throat, nodding towards the kid.

“At the movies” Darcy corrects herself in time. “And if you’re gonna have an issue with the missus”

“Why would I?” you cross your arms. Wanda knows about the plan.

“Well, she’s known to be the jealous type. And we’re all going to a place full of… candy” Darcy smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Kamala joins you, getting everything ready for the cast as the kid’s father has some questions.

“It’s going to be fine” you say, walking out of the ER, Darcy right behind you. “I think a lot has changed since we took a break. Plus I’m making it up to her with fancy dinner”

“Oh, are you finally proposing?” Darcy jokes but you hit your knee against a stretcher, groaning in pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you miss the part where I almost fell on my face?”

“No, I mean why did you get all freaked out when I mentioned the engagement. You have a ring, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but last time…” you sigh, looking away. You stop walking, leaning against the wall, and Darcy eyes you up and down. “I thought I had it all figured out, you know? Thought we were doing good and then everything blew up in my face. I don’t think I’m ready for that. And there’s the whole Sokovia thing… maybe I should tell her that part over dinner first”

“You haven’t told her? She’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t do it fast. It’s three months away”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, shush. She’s waiting by the front desk” you nod towards Wanda, who stopped by on her way back from school.

“Hey, detka. Hey, Darcy” Wanda greets, kissing your cheek. You pull her by the waist until she’s completely attached to your side. Wanda loves how needy and touch starved you are.

“We were just talking about Carol and Maria’s bachelorette party and how you don’t need to tell me to behave”

“Of course I don’t”

“Because you trust me”

“Because I’m coming with you” she says at the same time you speak.

“You… what?” you turn to look at her, confused, ignoring Darcy’s laughter.

“Carol invited me. We had fun that time at the club, didn’t we? I thought it might be good to leave the house, seeing as all we do lately is have sex…”

“That’s my cute to go” Darcy groans, walking away.

Wanda turns to look at her, laughing.

“If you don’t want me to go…”

“Wanda, I’d love for you to join us. It’s gonna be fun… but just to be clear, it’s not because you don’t trust me, right?”

“No, dear. I trust you” Wanda looks over your shoulder, as some of the nurses stare at you, clearly admiring your muscles. “I just don’t trust other women to keep it in their pants”

Before you know it, she’s pulling you in for a rough kiss. You gasp in surprise, but craddle her face in your hands a second later, smiling when she laughs against your lips.

“What are you doing? I need to get groceries” she says when you pull her to an empty on call room.

“Come on, it will only take five minutes”

“Five?” she says, unimpressed.

“Fine. How about fifteen?”

“That’s more like it”

—

There’s a certain excitement at getting ready for a party with your friends. You’re all so consumed by work that hanging out is a rarity.

Beyond that, Wanda joining you is ten times better, so by the time you’re ready and waiting for her at the living room, you’re buzzing with anticipation.

She finally goes downstairs, and you’re too busy admiring how good she looks in black pants, and a velvet corset top that pushes her breasts up.

“Stunning doesn’t begin to cover it” you say, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Thanks, detka. Come on, we should get going”

The plan is to get something to eat first and then go to the club. Easy, no complications.

“Drop her off at a decent hour” Ekaterina asks you as if you don’t live in the same house as Wanda.

“Yes, Miss Max… Mom” you say, rubbing the back of your neck.

Pietro is out with the twins and Ekaterina will stay with them until you come back, which of course won’t be too late as everyone has to work in the next 24 hours.

“You ok?” Wanda says as you drive to the bar, sitting quietly. You’re still thinking about what Darcy said, and you know you’re also avoiding the conversation with Wanda, fearing it will lead to an argument.

“Yeah. Just hoping everything goes well. By the way, would you maybe want to have dinner tomorrow? We could try that new place you found the other day”

“Of course, detka. Is that why you were so scared? You just wanted to ask me out?” she jokes, reaching to place her hand on the back of your head as you drive.

“Real funny” you comment, smiling at her.

By the time you walk in the pub, Darcy is all over your face.

“You’re late”

“It’s 8:06, pesky minion” you say, looking around the room. Carol and Maria are playing pool, while Kate and Kamala take some pictures.

“Yeah, we said 8 o’clock. We have a tight schedule, but don’t worry. I knew you’d both be late, probably being horny and…”

“Ok! Your point?” you interrupt her, Wanda laughing next to you.

“I took that into consideration, but here. Have a look” Darcy says, handing over her phone.

“Why is there a 15 minute break called bar fight?” you say.

“In case Wanda wants to smack the living lights out of anyone trying to make a move on you. I know you, Maximoff”

“I do appreciate the consideration” Wanda nods and you look at her, hoping it’s just a joke. You have to bring her back home in one piece or Ekaterina will probably kill you.

Once you promise Darcy you’ll stick to her annoying itinerary, you find a table and order some food. Wanda walks up to talk to Kate and Kamala, and Darcy sits next to you at the booth, nudging your side.

“What now?“

“Did you tell her already?”

“No, I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow”

“Ok, when I get super drunk make sure I’m not around Wanda or I’ll tell her everything”

“Who can forget you’re infamous word vomit?” you sigh, remembering that time Darcy was so wasted she asked two girls you were seeing at the same time if they had siblings since “you don’t have a problem sharing”.

“Better that than actual vomit”

Everyone’s having a great time, joking and talking about life. Sometimes the conversation drifts back to work but you make sure Wanda has context on everything so she doesn’t get lost.

“So, Ass Man…”

“Doctor Charles” you turn to Wanda when Darcy’s telling a story.

“And Booty Call”

“His mistress” you say, sighing. Darcy and her complicated nicknames.

“Wait, hold on. Do I have a nickname?” Wanda asks, smiling. Everyone looks away and then she turns to you.

“Not that I’m aware of” you admit, though no one would tell you either way.

“You’re all cowards” Darcy says when the group refuses to answer. “Everyone calls you Maximilf”

You choke on your beer, Wanda laughing as you try to breathe.

“Do you think it’s fitting?” she says when everyone else focuses back on Darcy’s story.

“I mean, I definitely want to fuck you”

“Alright, you have three five minute breaks to flirt or combine them to do something nasty” Darcy says when she catches what’s happening. “And right now, it’s time to go to the club”

The brunette leads the group outside, where a minivan is parked.

“Designated driver” she hands the keys over and you accept them with a roll of your eyes.

“I could be the designated driver, Doctor Y/L/N. I hardly drink” Kamala offers and you smile.

“How about when we’re out of the club, kid?”

Everyone gets in, Wanda in the passenger seat with you. Kate is in charge of the music, and you have to hand it to her, it’s a really good playlist.

“Don’t go breaking my heart” you sing to Wanda.

“I couldn’t if I tried” Wanda answers, singing Kiki Dee’s part.

“Out! Out of this madhouse, please!” Darcy shrieks from the last seat.

Luckily for her, you’re at the strip club in less than ten minutes.

Carol and Maria are wearing their matching “Bride to Be” t-shirts, Kamala and Kate close behind.

“Right on schedule?” you ask Darcy, and she nods, extending her hand. You think she wants a high five and you do that but she glares.

“No, you idiot. Give me the keys. I don’t trust you to keep them safe”

“Fine. Let’s go, babe” you put your arm around Wanda, going inside.

The music is loud, but right now there’s only people talking and drinking. A hostess leads you to a booth that’s right in front of the stage and you sit, looking around.

“This is really nice” Maria comments.

“Everyone say thank you, Darcy, for finding this awesome place and making the booth reservation” you say, raising your shot glass as the waitress places the tray on the table.

“Thank you, Darcy!” everyone says, downing their shots. Kamala is the only one that doesn’t drink, but Darcy is quick to take the shot she left.

You have a couple of rounds of shots, talking and laughing. Kamala asked for a mocktail, but she’s laughing so loud that you have to approach her.

“Hey, K. What did you get?”

“Long Island iced tea, Ma’am” she mock salutes you. “They’re so good! Here’s another one”

The waitress is already handing over a new one and Kamala drinks half of the glass before you can stop her.

“Kamala, that has like three different types of alcohol”

“Nooooo way, really?” she practically shouts, looking around. She waves at one of the show girls, and points to her ears. “Oh my god, your earrings are so cute”

You sigh, walking to the bar to get her a soda and some water, since it’s very clear she can’t hold her alcohol.

“Hi, there” a woman greets you. She’s wearing a robe over her gold lingerie set that leaves very little to the imagination.

“Oh, hello. How do you do?” you say, smiling as you get the water and the soda, leaving a tip for the bartender.

“You here with someone?”

“Yeah, the bridal shower over there” you nod your head towards your group.

“Congratulations”

“Not mine, no. My friends” you clarify, and as you turn to look back at your group you see Kamala drinking another cocktail. “Excuse me, I have to make sure the one that looks like a kid doesn’t get wasted”

“Well, I’m next… hope you like my act” she bites her lip and you nod dumbly, blushing. You’re so worried about Kamala that you don’t notice the way Wanda follows the interaction.

“Come on, kiddo, drink this” you say, asking Kate to keep an eye out for her. When you return to your seat, Wanda climbs on your lap. Maria whistles and you blush, smiling weakly.

“Hey, baby. Did you have a couple of drinks too?” you smile, hands resting on her hips.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“That girl at the bar. She seemed really interested in you” Wanda says with a knowing smile, making you gulp.

“I didn’t catch her name. Didn’t ask, I mean”

Just as she’s about to argue, the lights dim, and there’s a focus on the stage as the woman walks to the pole, dropping her black robe.

“Please welcome Sadie!”

There’s a chorus of applause and whistles as the woman dances around, but Wanda stays on your lap, giving you enough room to look back to the stage if you want to.

So she’s testing you.

“Cat got your tongue?” she whispers against your lips. You shake your head no, hands going to her lower back and you really want to touch her ass but all your friends are here and you’ll never hear the end of it.

A couple of screams make you turn briefly to the stage, and you notice the woman -Sadie- has taken her top off, throwing it close to where you are.

“Are her tits pretty?”

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t look?” she asks and you nod, sighing when she sneaks her hand under your shirt, raking her nails across your abdomen. “Goog girl”

“Wanda” you stop her hand when it travels to undo the button of your pants. “Not here”

“Why not? Is Sadie gonna get jealous?”

“Come on, bunny, you are not playing fair” you try to hold back a moan when she dips her hand in your pants, and you feel how close she is to your center. Wanda bites down your neck, soothing the sting with her tongue a second later.

“I guess you’re right” she whispers and you almost don’t catch her words, until she goes back to sitting next to you, the lights going back on as the woman leaves the stage.

“Hey, perv, button up your pants” Darcy screams and everyone turns to look at you.

“Wanda!” you complain while your girlfriend laughs.

There’s not a lot of teasing as the next act comes on stage. It’s a fabulous drag queen that calls herself Fanny Longbottom. She's holding a mic, approaching your group.

“I hear we have a couple of brides to be this evening. What are your names, darling?”

“I’m Carol and this is Maria”

“Love that. How long have you been together for?”

“Six years now”

Fanny gasps dramatically, looking at the rest of the audience.

“That’s like 20 in lesbian years! Congrats on finally tying the knot, you two. Any more couples on your little entourage”

You’re shaking your head no, hating when the attention is drawn to you, but Carol is quick to point your way.

“My, oh my” the woman saunters your way, noticing how flushed your face is. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, we were just…”

“Honey, we don’t need the deets” she says and everyone laughs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N and this is my girlfriend Wanda” you say, hoping this can be over soon.

“How long have you been together?”

“Well, I mean, ten months and then we broke up for a bit but now we’re back together” you ramble.

“She’s lovely. And great with my kids” Wanda steps in, sensing how nervous you are.

“Kids! Ten months and they already have kids” the woman screams. “You should take a page out of these two. Look at them practically married after a few months. But, let’s see who has the best moves, what do you say?”

“Wait, what?” you shout. Two chairs are placed on the stage, and you shake your head hoping this isn’t what you think it is.

Wanda drags you to the stage, smiling.

“How bad can it be?”

You wish she hadn’t asked that question, because it turns out this is a lap dance-off and you’re forced to sit as everyone cheers.

“Relax, darling, pretend it’s just the two of us” Wanda says and you’re midly turned on and very curious about why she’s not shy or self conscious.

The music begins and you see Wanda sink to her knees between your parted legs. As she stands up, her hands slide up your thighs and then she’s sitting on your lap, her breasts right in your face.

“Don’t be shy” Wanda says against your lips, taking you by the wrists and placing your hands on her ass. There’s more whistles and you’re vaguely aware that Wanda’s grinding her ass against your front, her hands over her head as she dances to the music.

“Alright” Fanny says, applauding as the music fades. “They put on quite a show”

You practically take a shot from the waitress that’s walking by, trying to calm your racing heart while everyone claps for Maria and Wanda.

“That was so awesome” Kate says, but you’re only aware of Wanda close behind you.

Stopping suddenly, you turn to look at her and she’s pleased at noticing your blown pupils and heaving chest.

“Bathroom or car. Choose”

“Car. I’ll just go to the bathroom first”

“Fine” you nod, turning to Darcy. “Give me the car keys”

“No, it’s a rental and you’re gonna destroy one of the seats or some weird shit”

“Lewis, keys. Now!”

“Keep it in your pants, god damn it!” she curses, running around the bar.

“Why are you so fast when your legs are so short?” you complain. You’re about to catch her when your attention shifts to Wanda, who is trying to walk past a man.

“How much do you charge for a dance?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on, it didn’t look like it was your first”

“Darcy, change of plans! Bar fight” you walk towards your girlfriend.

Wanda relaxes when she sees you approaching, thinking you’ll tell the man to fuck off and get her out of there.

Instead, you grab him by the shoulders and when he turns around, your fist flies to his nose.

Darcy pulls out a whistle from heaven knows where.

“Bridal shower girlies, out the door, now, now! You too, Wanda”

Everyone’s sneaking out before the fight can escalate, but the man catches you off guard, hitting your face and splitting your lip.

“You never hit a woman, you coward!” Fanny says, throwing a chair his way. “Get him out of here”

Taking advantage of the commotion, you escape, practically jumping on the minivan. Darcy starts the engine even before you close the door, everyone shrieking and panicking as she swirves on the road, clearly too drunk to drive.

“We’re going to die!” Kamala cries in the backseat. “I don’t wanna die!”

“Lewis, pull over! I’m driving!” you say, hitting your head against the window when she takes a sharp turn.

“How do you stop this thing?” Darcy says, forgetting how to use the brakes.

It takes a couple of tries, but then she’s parking by the sidewalk, knocking a trash can.

You sigh, going out to take her place while she crawls over the passenger seat. Kamala asks you to wait a second and the minute she’s out, you hear her throw up.

“Well, at least it didn’t happen inside the car” Darcy smiles, giving you a thumbs up.

—

The cool air clears your head.

“Sorry” Wanda says, holding your chin as she cleans your bloody lip. “That was very hot, though”

“Mhm. Right back at you with that little dance. Should I set up a pole in your studio?”

“Stop” she laughs, inspecting her work. “Ok, you’re good”

You turn to look at the rest of the group. The girls are showing Carol the videos they took while Maria and Darcy get some ice cream.

You figured the pier was the safest spot to unwind and sober up before heading back home.

“Here ya go” Darcy hands you an ice cream cone.

“Thanks, pal. It was a great party”

“Better than senior year spring break?”

“Ha! Not that good, Lewis”

“What happened in that party?” Wanda asks.

“Nothing” Darcy and you say at the same time.

“God damn it, is Kamala going in the water?” Darcy says, standing up to go check on them.

You both laugh, shaking your heads at the way the night ended.

“For our wedding maybe we should skip this whole bachelorette party thing” you say without thinking.

“If… that’s what you want” Wanda says, speechless at how casual you’re being.

To be fair, you just took painkillers even if you had a couple of drinks. That and the little fight have left you a bit distracted. You honestly don’t even notice you’re talking about a potential wedding.

Then, Kamala and Kate are both in the water, swearing they saw a mermaid and a coast guard is approaching, telling them it is forbidden to swim.

“Ah, jeez. Everyone, get in the car, now!”

For the second time that evening, you have to flee to avoid the consequences of your stupid actions, but everyone’s laughing as you start the minivan.

It’s not so bad after all.

—

The evening’s going great. Your lip isn’t hurting that much, Wanda seems to be enjoying her food and she also looks absolutely stunning.

Yet, you can’t help but feel nervous about what you have to tell her.

Wanda mistakes your anxiety with nerves, and for a bigger part of the night she expects you to get down in one knee and ask her to marry you.

But she knows that’s such a generic way to do it and you would absolutely do something different and unique.

“Are you feeling ok? Still a little hungover from yesterday?” she asks when you’re walking down the pier, her hand holding on to your arm as you look out the bay.

“No, it’s not that” you reassure her, stopping and turning to look at her. “I have to tell you something”

Wanda’s heart beats faster. Your demeanor isn’t making her feel very confident right now, as you avoid her eyes.

“Hey, look at me” Wanda reaches forward,squeezing your hand. “It’s ok”

“Right. Remember Val? From Boston”

“I’m not… maybe. Why? What’s the matter?”

Wanda’s mind is racing with a million possibilities. Were you and Val involved? Did you feel guilty for keeping it from Wanda?

“Well, she works for Doctors without borders. And though that requires leaving for a very long period of time, she was able to connect me with an NGO that is looking for doctors that want to work in several countries. One of them being Sokovia”

“Ok? So are you going?” Wanda tries to understand what you’re saying.

“I want to… I want us to go together” you reach for her waist, pulling her closer and leaning your forehead against hers. “They liked my experience so I can go only for the summer. I’d help one of their hospitals to develop an ER protocol, make things better”

“And the kids?”

“Like I said, I choose when to go. It could be during summer break. We’ll go together. I really want to know where you came from, your home… but I get it if you don’t want to go back”

“I just… I never thought you’d want to go” she says, trying to wrap her head around what you just said.

“Of course I do. Plus you told me about that book you want to write, it could be a good time to do research. Right?”

“Right” Wanda smiles, relieved that this is what you wanted to talk about. She can’t help but laugh when she realises you also didn’t propose.

“You ok? Was this too much?”

“No, it’s not that. I was just… worried it might be something bad. But it’s not, detka. You just took me by surprise and I want to think about this. It’s not easy going back after everything that happened”

“Of course, I know. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she leans to kiss you softly. “Now, let’s go home before mom gets mad at us”

“Yeah, we had enough with yesterday’s scolding. She’s so scary” you shudder, making Wanda laugh.

Ekaterina didn’t have a lot of nice things to say when you sneaked back into the house after the bachelorette party, giggling like a couple of teenagers.

She was also very much not impressed by your split lip and bruised knuckles.

When you go back home, the kids are already asleep but Ekaterina is still in the dining room table, playing a game on her phone.

“No trouble this time?” she says, looking at you sternly.

“No, Ma’am. We had dinner and a nice walk, didn’t we, love?” you say, turning to Wanda for backup. She nods, and you kiss her temple. “I’m going upstairs, gotta get ready for work tomorrow”

“Good night” Ekaterina says, Wanda promising to be right there.

“Want me to walk you out?” she asks her mother, and Ekaterina stays silent for a moment longer, looking at her daughter.

“You seem disappointed” she says instead of answering the question.

“Mama. I’m tired” Wanda sighs, walking to the kitchen to make some tea.

“Let me. And tell me what’s wrong” her mother takes over as she usually does.

Wanda sits at the kitchen counter, trying to gather her thoughts.

“A small part of me thought she was proposing tonight. And then we got to talking and it’s a whole different thing”

“Children?” Ekaterina asks and Wanda shakes her head no. “Then?”

“She wants to go to Sokovia for the summer. There’s a hospital looking for help and... well, she seems really excited fot all of us to go, like it’s a vacation”

“That’s nice of her. Wanting to help, I mean. Truthfully, I’ve been to the hospital in the city and it could use some work”

“Why have you been there? Are you sick?” Wanda snaps, suddenly scared that her mother is keeping something from her.

“No, malyshka. Relax. Now tell me. You don’t want to go?”

“I’m scared that the happy memories I have are just my mind romanticizing the past. Like I just remember things being good because it’s been so long and it’s easier to forget the bad stuff”

“I see. Well, I was there. I saw you grow up, laugh in the snow, learn how to ride a bike down the hills of our street… I promise you, all the happiness you felt will be there. It’s your home, Wanda. Sometimes embracing the past can heal us”

“So, you think I should go?” Wanda says, sipping from her cup of tea.

“I think you shouldn’t let fear decide what you want. Now, as for the other thing. The proposal” she clarifies when Wanda tilts her head, confused. “Does she have to be the one that proposes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you do it? Seeing as you can’t wait to be engaged”

“No, I… if she hasn’t asked it means she’s not ready. I don’t want to pressure her”

“Or, she could be scared because last time she was ready and then you two broke up. Think about it”

Wanda stays silent for a moment. It was her who ended things between you, the one who refused to talk it out. Of course you’d want to be sure, or at the very least take some time before the next step.

It was always you who took a leap of faith. Maybe it was time Wanda did the same.

“I don’t even have a ring”

Ekaterina smiles, holding her daughter’s hands between her own.

“You know… your father and I always said that whoever found the right person first would get my engagament ring. And it seems like you beat your brother to it”

“You love that ring”

“I love that your father gave it to me. And that it’s part of our story. It will be part of yours now too”

Ekaterina takes Wanda’s palm and places the ring there.

“Love like that is hard to find”

"Thank you, Mama" Wanda says against her temple, hugging her mother.

"Don't take too long. I want more grandchildren"

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

291 notes · View notes