#but in general the tone is calm and pleasant

[messers-moony]

Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving. 

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it. 

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled. 

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount. 

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile. 

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother. 

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears. 

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages. 

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well. 

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart. 

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder. 

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.” 

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.” 

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.” 

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep. 

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face. 

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head. 

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered. 

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before. 

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally. 

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.” 

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words. 

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment. 

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with. 

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear. 

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.” 

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him. 

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her. 

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks. 

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved. 

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up. 

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it. 

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room. 

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy. 

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair. 

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother. 

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. 

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip. 

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked. 

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason. 

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?” 

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.” 

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break. 

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell. 

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions. 

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing. 

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration. 

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart. 

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his. 

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug. 

“I’ll write to you guys.” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” 

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.” 

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody. 

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach. 

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross. 

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend. 

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.” 

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?” 

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again. 

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart. 

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was. 

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up. 

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved. 

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married. 

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays. 

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus. 

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father. 

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?” 

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.” 

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed. 

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted. 

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed. 

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured. 

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded. 

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait. 

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace. 

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews. 

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks. 

[cassandraclare]

The Whispering Room: James’ POV

Here it is finally — James’ POV of the Whispering Room scene from Chain of Gold. I wanted to wait until Chain of Iron was released to give more people a chance to read the book, and also because what we learn in COI does inform the scene. I hope you enjoy!

*art by Cassandra Jean

Cortana wove with her words, underlining each one with steel. She turned as her sword turned, and her body curved and moved like water or fire, like a river under an infinity of stars. It was beautiful—she was beautiful, but it was not a distant beauty. It was a beauty that lived and breathed and reached out with its hands to crush James’s chest and make him breathless. — Chain of Gold

James had felt a strange emotion when Daisy first took the stage at the Hell Ruelle. It was a mix of several feelings...

worry on her behalf, annoyance at Kellington, curiosity, and admiration for her bravery and poise. It was unfair of these Bohemians to force her to caper for them, and, he thought, a bit insulting to Shadowhunters in general. He supposed that Matthew had given them a rather unusual view of what the Nephilim were like in such circumstances.

And then she had begun to dance. And suddenly she was not Daisy, his old friend. She was Cordelia, whose name meant heart, whose every gesture was fire. Every earthly worry he’d had had been swept out of his mind. He was conscious only of Cordelia, whirling back and forth across the small stage. Cortana danced around her, shedding light like embers. The dull glow of the lamps illuminated her body, describing her every movement, her every curve as she danced. Her scarlet hair whipped around her in time to the music, and the golden light of the lamps in the Ruelle slipped across her skin, slow and hot, like beads of honey. The cadences of her voice, rising and falling, seemed to weave a cage of silken thread about her audience, and James was no exception.

Later, James would think it was odd that he had not compared her to Grace. Grace had never entered his mind at all. Cordelia danced, and by the end of her performance, James’s entire life had been disassembled and put back together in a new and different shape. He was conscious of Matthew, beside him, also staring as the crowd cheered, his sharp cheekbones flushed. He looked dazed; James couldn’t blame him.

Cordelia descended the stage and slipped through the crowd to come back to them, blushing at the looks and murmured comments she was drawing from the audience now. James could see the desire in the eyes that followed her. Everyone wanted her. He felt a dull fury. They had no right. They did not know Cordelia. She was more than just that dance.

When she reached them she let out a long breath of relief and smiled. She glowed with the exercise of dancing. Sweat beaded along her collarbones, shimmered between her breasts. Her eyes were bright as Cortana’s blade, strapped to her back.

“Bloody hell,” Matthew exclaimed.  “What was that?”

A look of uncertainty crossed Cordelia’s face. James said, “It was a fairy tale, Math,” and Matthew nodded. His dark green eyes searched Cordelia’s face, as if looking for the key to a locked room he had only just discovered.

Cordelia looked uncertain. James couldn’t bear that. She’d been magnificent; she should know it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. It would only make her self-conscious.

“Well done, Cordelia,” James said instead; when he unfolded his arms; his wrist hurt and he wondered if he’d been clenching his hands.

Cordelia. He hadn’t called her Daisy, and she looked a little surprised. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. Daisy was Lucie’s friend, the Merry Thieves’ compatriot; he found it a smaller name than she deserved. Cordelia, though—she had been a queen, hadn’t she? Queen Cordelia, daughter of Leir, ruler of Britain before the Romans had ever landed on those shores. Like Boadicea, a legendary warrior queen. A blazing white fire behind fathomless black eyes.

“Anna has disappeared with Hypatia,” James said, noting the empty settee, “so I would call your distraction a success.”

Cordelia’s lips twitched into a smile. “How long does a seduction usually last?”

“Depends if you do it properly,” Matthew said, with a wink. James felt it as a spark of relief, a bit of lightness amid the feeling that something heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake Anna does it properly,” James said. He registered, with the reflexes of a parabatai, that Matthew had gone still next to him, and wondered what was wrong. “Yet for our sake, I hope she hurries it up.”

All hint of Matthew’s jocular tone from before was gone. “Both of you,” he said urgently. “Listen.”

Did he mean all the muttering about Shadowhunters? Was he only noticing it now? It had followed them since they came into the place. But when James followed Matthew’s gaze, he found Kellington staring with an expression of vexation, not at them but at the door. All questions were answered as through the door came Charles Fairchild, looking around him with a haughty expression. He looked like was about to raid the place; so much for whatever work Matthew and Anna had done for Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations here.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Charles,” he sighed. “By the Angel, what is he doing here?”

Charles was, James thought, probably looking for them. He was making his way through the crowd and gazing around him. Luckily for them, the crowd was not interested in letting him through, and he was moving very slowly.

“We should go,” James said. “But we can’t leave Anna.”

In one way, at least, Charles’s arrival was helpful; it threw a bucket of cold water on the roiling heat that had gripped James’s heart since Cordelia had begun her dance. Back to the matter at hand: a demon, a Pyxis, a plan.

“You two run and hide yourselves,” Matthew said, still keeping his eyes on his brother. “Charles will go off his head if he sees you here.”

“But what about you?” said Cordelia.

Matthew shrugged, but James could see the tension in his jaw and his shoulders. “He’s used to this kind of thing from me. I’ll deal with Charles.”

Not for the first time, James wished that his parabatai wasn’t in such a hurry to sacrifice his own reputation. He exchanged a long look with Matthew, but Matthew was sure, and determined, and his desire to rush into his own humiliation was an issue that would have to wait. Nodding, he turned and caught Cordelia’s hand with his own. “This way,” he said, and she nodded back in acknowledgement. As he pulled them into the crowd he heard Matthew’s voice calling, “Charles!” in a hearty tone of pleasant, if entirely false, welcome.

James didn’t know his way around the place, and the crowd made orientating himself even more difficult, but after some trial and error he and Cordelia managed to get behind Kellington and slip into a corridor leading away. This wasn’t safe in itself, since from the main chamber one would have a clear view down the entire corridor. In fact, they were temporarily more exposed than before, and James’s hope for the hallway to take a quick turn or to contain large statuary to hide behind was quickly dashed. He continued to hold onto Cordelia’s hand, not that he needed to; she seemed to know her way better than he did.

Partway down the corridor, James caught sight of an open door — its silver plaque labeling it the entrance to THE WHISPERING ROOM. Swiftly he drew Cordelia inside, out of sight. He slammed the door behind them, causing a loud noise, but he thought it couldn’t possibly be heard over the crowd in the main chamber. Only then did he release Cordelia’s hand and take stock of their surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, but not cold: a scented fire burned in the grate, filling the space with the smell of sandalwood and roses. It was a study, he guessed, based on the gigantic walnut desk against the wall and the bookshelves opposite, but it was too richly decorated to be solely a place for studious contemplation. Phoenix feathers and dragon scales danced across the gilded wallpaper; there were no windows, but the walls were hung with patterned tapestries, the floor covered with a rug so thick James felt his boots sink into it as he moved further into the room.

Cordelia had leaned her back against the wall next to the door. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep, full breaths, calming herself down. Cortana gleamed gold over her shoulder; the firelight gleamed a deeper gold on her skin, which seemed to take and hold its warmth. James curled his fingers in against his palm.

He wanted to touch her. He half-turned away, pretending to study the books on the wall. Any other time, he would have been fascinated by the titles. Now they seemed distant, neither immediate nor imporant. He could have sworn he heard his own heart hammering. He said, “Where did you learn to dance like that?” surprising himself with the roughness of his own voice.

His gaze snapped back to Cordelia as she opened her eyes and gave a little shrug. There was something magical about the dress she wore: it followed the shape of her own body rather than the shape of corsetry or whalebone petticoats. It slid softly against her skin as she moved, just as her dark red hair tickled the bare skin of her throat, her shoulders. “I had a dance instructor in Paris. My mother believed that learning to dance aided in learning grace in battle.”

The word grace pierced James like an icicle. He could not quite picture Grace at the moment, it was true; could not quite envision her face. He had given Grace his heart — that was an immutable fact, something he knew as he knew that two plus two equaled four. But he had to admit that at the moment his heart did not feel given. It felt like a thrumming machine inside his chest, pumping blood and heat.

“That dance,” Cordelia added with a quirk of her soft mouth that struck James like a blow to the stomach, “was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies. But my dance instructor did not care.”

“Well,” James said, keeping his voice steady with practiced control, “thank the Angel you were there. Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own.”

Cordelia turned away from him, the smile still on her face, as though she were keeping it secret from him. She trailed her hand along the top of Hypatia’s desk. At one end was a stack of papers held down by a large copper bowl of fruit, and she brought her hand up to trace its rim.

James may have been distracted beyond the capacity for distraction he’d known before, but he was still a Shadowhunter. “Be careful,” he said warningly. “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks—no magical effect, at least. But on humans…”

Cordelia pulled her hand back as though stung. “Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.”

“Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. The say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can…have no more.”

Cordelia was looking at him now, and though it took a great summoning of courage, he returned her gaze. In her dark eyes the silver and blue flames of the fireplace danced. James could not catch his breath. He had never felt this before, this breathlessness. It was like pain, but with a sweet, sharp edge. Like licking honey from a knife. He said, in a low voice, “And yet. I have always thought…is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”

The door shook on his hinges suddenly, making a clatter that made both he and Cordelia jerk their heads around to look at it. The knob was starting to turn.

Cordelia paled. “We’re not meant to be in here —“

James’s world closed down to just this: Cordelia was here, she was with him, and she looked frightened. He would do anything to stop that look on her face. He caught her in his arms, and the relief was incredible — he had not realized how much he wanted to be touching her until he was. Until he was holding her, and her strength and warmth and softness were all pressed against him, and her face was so beautiful it hurt, and her lips were parted in surprise and without another thought he kissed them.

He could feel her sharp intake of breath with his hands, clasped together at her lower back. She gasped, but did not draw back, or away — he thought he would have died if she had — she leaned into him, her full lips opening under his. She was kissing him back. He tasted honey, smelled jasmine and smoke. His hand slid up her warm cheek and into the soft fall of her hair.

Time stopped.

Cordelia’s arms were around his neck. Her lush mouth opened a little against his, and the kiss deepened. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he couldn’t help it; he moaned, and felt her tremble against him.

Very far away, a voice chuckled and the door closed with a soft click. This whole thing had been intended as a ruse, he knew, for the benefit of whomever was trying to get into the Whispering Room. Probably some Ruelle attendees, Downworlders most likely, who had snuck off for a rendez-vous.

Ruse accomplished, then. With intense regret, James drew back from Cordelia. Her hand, warm and soft and wonderful, was against his neck; her fingers stroked his pale white scar. Her eyes were fixed at the level of his shoulder. He could hear himself say her name — Daisy, my Daisy — instead of responding, she whispered, “I think more people are coming.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t care. He knew what she was saying: that she was asking and giving permission at once. All James’ life, he had struggled for control: control over his sudden falls into shadow, control over the dark world he could see, that was invisible to everyone else. He had worked and fought and trained for control every day, and for the first time in as long as he could remember it deserted him.

The walls he had put up burned to the ground in an instant as he caught Cordelia to him. He groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping over the silk of her dress, the hot satin of her skin. He undid the strap that held Cortana, got rid of it somehow — carefully, he hoped — and let himself fall back into delirium.

He did not ask himself why he had never felt desire like this before. He could not. He was lost in the feel of her, the incline of her waist, the flare of her hips, the rise and fall of her chest as she gasped. They were kissing wildly, uncontrolled; they fetched up against the desk, Cordelia’s back to it.

Her body bent backward in an impossible arch, her hands going behind her to brace herself. Her eyes half-closed, her head fell back, revealing the bare column of her throat. He pressed his lips there, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure.

His hands trailed up the sleek material of her dress — he could feel the heat of her skin through it — from her waist to the neckline of her gown. His palms followed her curves until the tips of his fingers were pressing into the bare bronze skin just above the neckline of her dress. She was sleek and soft and hot all at the same time, like nothing else he’d ever touched. He heard her whimper; she was saying his name, and his heart beat in time with her words: James, James, Jamie please.

The please undid him; shrugging off his frock coat, he caught hold of her around the waist, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The material of her dress bunched around her knees, her thighs, as she took hold of his shirt by the starched front and kissed him. His mouth drove against hers, hot and demanding, even as he clambered onto the desk after her. She reached up her arms for him and he sank down on top of her, bracing his weight with a hand above her head.

He paused, just for a moment, looking down at her. Her scarlet hair fanned out across the desk, her eyes glazed, her full lips red from kissing. He was cradled by her body, her legs on either side of his hips, her skirt rucked up nearly to her waist. She wrapped her long, bare legs around him and he shuddered. What was in him, what he wanted, was inchoate but insistant, a force he’d never known. A yearning like hot wires in his blood, the pain-pleasurable ache of unbearable wanting that drove him to kiss her again, kiss her harder. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling at it as he kissed her breasts, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until she gave a low scream and clutched at him with desperate hands.

He sank down against her and kissed her, hot and deep and hard. She arched into the kiss, her breath coming in gasps. He felt her through the thinner material of his shirt: the heat of her, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her hands smoothing over his chest, his sides.

His hands aching to touch her in kind, to find out what she liked, what made her gasp, and do it again and again . . . Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing. He’d known desire before; so he remembered, so he had believed. It turned out he had stepped into a puddle and thought it was the sea. As Cordelia moved in his arms, as her lips, he realized there was a depth to desire he hadn’t even guessed at: that it was more than just desperation, but joy and need and wanting and being wanted back. It was a fever dream, his hands sliding up under the heavy satin of her skirts, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the soft sounds of her pleasure as she urged him closer, urged him onward, the desk seeming to spin beneath them.

He heard, as if at a great distance, the sound of the door opening. He lifted his head, saw the slim fair-hared figure in the doorway. Ice washed through his veins. Cordelia stiffened, began to scramble to sit up. No, he thought, but he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t blame her. It — whatever it had been — was over.

He slid off the desk. Already the fever was vanishing, that feeling —the glorious freedom from the burden of his own will — receding. Grasping at his control, he drew it around himself,  reaching for his coat, turning to calmly meet the gaze of his parabatai.

“James?” Matthew said.

[zorlok-if]

Can you describe what some of the voice types mean? I'm Hard of Hearing, so I don't really know 😅 (I also feel bad that I have no idea what the background music is because of that either)

Oh yeah, absolutely! (and I'm sorry that made you feel bad)

Do you think it would be good to add an audio description option in the settings menu so when music/audio plays a dialog box or an in-text description will appear which describes it? I'll also add buttons that pull up descriptions of voices in-game when they come up.

Is there anything else that comes to mind for you—or anyone—that would make the game experience more accessible? Or any general settings/mechanical features you'd like to see?

Back to the voice descriptions, I ended up letting the weird little poet in me try their hand at this, so I tried using more adjectives and alternate senses. Here are (my interpretations) of how the voice types sound/come across (if these aren't helpful please let me know):

Melodic – Pleasant, dancing, a speaking voice that sounds like singing, enchanting, smooth, wavy, words glide into one another and vary in pitch as they're spoken

Gruff – Rough, harsh, and abrasive, a voice that sounds like sandpaper feels, typically lower in pitch and tending to speak in shorter, clipped, more punchy words

Deep – Low and cavernous, powerful, commanding, calm and relaxed, low-pitched, blunt-force

High – High, tight, more energetic, sounds like extreme temperatures feel, piercing

Soft – Whispering, quiet, breathy, rounded edges, non-assertive, soothing, distant

Robust – Loud, deep, round, and strong, conspicuous, confident, really full breath, commands attention

Husky – Appealing version of gruff, lower and gravelly, hoarse, how voices sound with a sore throat, often seen as sexy and mysterious, growling

Sweet – High-pitched, laughing, child-like, kind, smiling, a little melodic and song-like (but more like a nursery rhyme)

Smoky – Husky but more actively seductive, like the aesthetics of a jazz lounge, low and somewhat hoarse, but feels like velvet (if husky is like growling, smoky is like purring)

Booming – Thunderous, loud, bombastic, explosive, cannot be ignored, robust voice amplified, can almost be painful to listen to for extended periods of time

Dead – Lifeless, unwavering, bored and disinterested, no change in tone or pitch, like a flat line, a deflated balloon

Haunting – (This one is the most variable and open to interpretation) generally unnerving, unsettling, a little scary, perhaps almost like two voices at once, or so breathy that it's almost like a snake hissing, a voice that would stalk someone's nightmares

[essektheylyss]

He is almost startled out of his skin when he receives the message. The tone is soft and calm and perhaps too gentle as Caduceus says, “Hullo, Essek. Hope you’re doing alright. Perhaps you’d like to come by tomorrow, if you have the chance?”

His heart doesn’t quite stop racing as he answers, lets Caduceus know he can arrive for breakfast. He knows what Caduceus Clay sounds like when he is being extra careful about his words.

The Grove is as it always is, blooming with life and color and the sound of three generations of Clays roaming and running, and his feet kiss earth watered by a late spring shower, its offering not yet evaporated from the trees’ leaves.

He ducks his head against the morning’s light, losing part of itself as it pushes valiantly through the canopy to caress the crown of his head. A paper-wrapped package of spices and herbs is tucked beneath his arm as he knocks on the door of the temple and opens the door, a transgression to which the Clays have bullied him gently into growing accustomed.

Most of them are sitting at the table when he enters, ducking his head as though he has any reason to worry about clearing the door. Caduceus stands with a grin to greet him. “An offering,” Essek says, straight-backed, holding himself with a nervous sort of grace, and holds out the package.

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Thelyss,” Constance says, and takes it from him to sort into jars in the pantry. “We have some tea you might like to take with you, when you leave.”

He bows his head gently, and Caduceus presses a steaming ceramic cup of tea into his hand, keeping one for himself, and gestures outdoors.

“I can wait while you finish your meal,” Essek demurs, and Caduceus’ grin only widens.

“No, no, please. I have something to show you.”

The birdsong is not quite what he would consider cacophonous, but it does fill the air enough that he doesn’t notice for a few minutes that they have been walking in pleasant silence, past the pond, into deeper, denser groves of trees.

“What did you care to show me, Mr. Clay?” he asks finally, as they pass beyond where Beau is buried, where Yasha will rest next to her one day, and Caduceus only smiles.

“You know, I know a lot of flowers,” he says, and his steps are leisurely. The sunlight is dim here, where the canopy grows thicker, healthy green trees untouched by the poison of the Savalirwood. “I mean, I don’t know the names of a lot of flowers—well, I’ve given some of them names, but I’d be surprised if anyone but me called them by ‘em—but I’m familiar with a lot of flowers.”

Essek hums in agreement, though he cannot say the same. He is familiar with flowers that have particular arcane abilities, things that grow nicely in Rexxentrum—not that he has tended a garden in Rexxentrum in over a decade. He does not go out of his way to learn flowers. Perhaps he should. He has been moving for so long, since Caleb passed.

It feels often like he doesn’t know how to settle anymore.

His lips curl. “Have you brought me here to suggest I slow down?” he asks, and Caduceus gives him a pointed look.

“I mean, I’ll give you that advice whenever you’d like. But I don’t think you need to hear it from me. You’ll come to that conclusion when you’re ready.”

Essek ducks his head again, wrapping his fingers around the ceramic. Though spring is rushing jackrabbit-quick into summer, there is a chill lingering from the recent rain.

“No, I meant to show you a new flower I’d found. I dug it up and replanted it here, and I think it is quite happy in this spot. I thought you might like to see it.”

Footsteps faltering, Essek blinks. This is not so urgent a request, and he frowns before he catches up to Caduceus.

The shade of a copse of willows covers a blanket of moss, and at the base of the one in the center, a small thicket the copper color of sunset blooms.

“Is that it?” Essek asks, crouching at its edge with careful footsteps, trying not to disrupt the moss. Behind the little bush, an array of flat mushrooms scatter up the willow, a yellow spine.

The flowers are shaped like small bells with red flecks along their frocks. When he tilts one up to meet him with light fingertips, the inside is coated in a pale yellow pollen.

“This is beautiful, Caduceus,” he breathes, and looks up at his friend. Caduceus’ smile is broad.

“It is,” he agrees. “It’s a gift for you.”

His brow ripples. “A gift?”

“Mmhmm,” Caduceus agrees. A glint of sun has started to reach his eyes. “From Caleb.”

Essek’s butt hits the earth as he falls backward, legs splayed like a child. He stares up at Caduceus, squinting against the light. “What?”

“Caleb asked me, a long while ago now, to find something that grew once he was buried in Blumenthal, and plant it here for you,” Caduceus says. “And I had never seen anything like this before.”

The little bush is woody, hearty, and looks as though it has been growing for sometime. “How long have you—“

“I had to make sure it would last the winter,” Caduceus grins. “I called you once it was properly flowering.”

One of the little orange bells rests delicate and soft in his palm, and he marvels at it. Finally, after he has stared at it for sometime, a laugh bubbles to his lips. He presses his other hand to them. “I don’t know what to say.”

Caduceus takes a heavy seat beside him, just as sprawled. Sitting in the soil with a friend and this flowering bush, he feels younger than he has in decades. “He said you should be buried among family.”

Essek laughs, blinking. His watering eyes are only a symptom of light exposure. “I told him Beau and Yasha would be here by the time I am. You as well.”

“I’ll be here,” Caduceus agrees. “But you can never have enough family at your side, hmm?”

Essek twists a single flower from its stem, holding it by its delicate base up to a ray of light. Where the sun hits it, it glows.

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[orieriee]

Writing Random Scenarios Based On a Prompt Generator! (pt. 2)

Author's note: A mini series for some of my fave one piece men just before the new year! Hope you enjoy! This is Law's and Kid's :D

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, curse words and in Kid's, grammar errors because english isn't my first language and I haven't write in a long time

Gender neutral reader! The prompt generator can be found here

(pt. 1 here ft. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy)

my masterlist

For LAW: [I'll let you guess the prompt first]

"Law, you've been working too much. Come on, it's time for bed." You approached your overworking husband by his table and massaged his stiff shoulders. He's been working all night long finishing the rest of his paperwork. It can't be helped that he has many work to do since he's the top surgeon of the city after all. 

Being a doctor is no easy task. Being a surgeon is more harder. And being the spouse of a doctor/surgeon is also hard because that means you have to take care of your overworking husband, who won't rest until all his work is finished. That being said, he is one of a workaholic himself anyway. 

"I still have work to do. You can go to bed first." Law didn't even lift up his gaze from the stack of papers he cleaned up as he took another stack to work on. Having a workaholic husband sure is concerning sometimes. 

"My love, it's 1 AM. I get lonely a lot before I go to bed because you're not always home. And when you do get home, it's usually when I'm already asleep." You bring your arms forward to hug him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "You also have work tomorrow. Save up your energy for tomorrow, your eyebags are also getting worse. Let's go to bed together ok?" 

After a long persuasion and your warm hug, he finally put down his pen and sighed. He always melt under your embrace and your care. You always know when he pushes himself too much and needed a break but could never before all work is done. That's what he really appreciates from you, being able to make him take a break and free him from his pile of stress and to be able to give him the comfort to do so. 

"Alright. You win." Law may say that as if he has no other choice but to 'obey' you but his smirk and his soft tone said otherwise. 

The nights when he usually can't fall asleep is no longer with you beside him. Your presence calm the storm inside him and allows him to sleep soundly in peaceful nights. He's too tired to even stay awake in your embrace as you shared your warmth to him through the night.

"Good night Law, sweet dreams." you whispered as you kissed his forehead, drifting off to sleep for the next day. 

The sound of the ruffling curtains being pulled is enough to wake up Law before being hit by sunlight through the window.

"Sadly you have to go to work again this early morning. Come on, I've prepared breakfast." You gave him a peck of morning kiss as he sat up from the bed. 

It has been a long time since he could sleep that well. It's usually him who wakes up earlier than you to get to work and stuff. He could say he overslept on a day like this but he feels refreshed than ever after a good night sleep. See, you never fail to bring him the comfort he needed. 

And when it's time to head off to work, Law let you make him a bento to bring in for lunch later. He may be a busy man, but he'll never forget to say thank you for the food. Yeah, he should give you a thanks after the comfort refreshment you gave him. 

"Have you forgotten something?" you asked as you looked at him, waiting for him to notice something.

This is the part where he says or rather, expresses his gratitude towards you. He leaned in to your height and closed his eyes for a second before pulling away and dusting off his coat before going off to work. 

"Oh, uh… Thanks…" you didn't expect him to kiss you all of the sudden. He's the type that rarely gives this kind of affection so it's always a pleasant surprise that makes you go all red.

"But what I meant is this…" you showed something on your hand and it's his bento you made him earlier that he forgot to take with him.

For EUSTASS KID: [below the cut!]

I'm doing something different with Kid and the prompt is....

Y/N-Kid is a couple in a youtube channel with over a million subscribers that people known as the chaotic duo that looks high but it's just themselves vibing and being chaotic together. [major modern reference]

Y/N : Ok, the camera's on now... Hey ho!!! It's Y/N here!! And I'm here with-

*pans camera to Kid who is sitting in front of a mirror, applying lipstick* 

Kid : Hey! Don't show my face yet! My eyeliner's not done yet. *panicking*

Y/N : My boyfriend Eustass Kid! 

Kid : HEYY I SAID STOP!!! 

(Video got cut off because Kid messed with your camera. The scene cuts to you entering Kid's car.)

Y/N : Ok, so we're doing our daily vlog. Where are we going today? 

Kid : TO THE STARB*CKS YEAHHHH *🤟🤟Giving me the punk rocker vibes*

Y/N : YEAHHHHH!!! WE'RE GOING TO GET SOME COFFEEEEE *adrenaline for caffeine*

Kid : YEAHHH WE GOIN' TO GET SOME LIQUOR BABYYY

Y/N : WE'RE GOING TO GET SOME- (puts down the camera angle) wait no, we don't drink liquor, this is a family friendly, content, cut the cameras- 

(Scene cuts to Kid ordering his Starbucks order)

Operator : So [your drink of choice] and then a grande with trenti iced coffee, 12 pumps of sugar-free vanilla, 12 pumps of sugar-free hazelnut, 12 pumps of sugar-free]caramel, 5 pumps skinny mocha, a splash of soy, and ice. Is that all? *out of breath but keeping the job professional, struggling to be ok*

Kid : Yeah, and the coffee is to the star on the siren's head, ya hear me? 

Operator : *visible sweating* alright, is that all, sir? 

Kid : *turns to you* baby, do you want anything else?

Y/N : Nu uh, I'm fine with my own drink, thanks. *looks at him weird, sympathizes the operator for rapping the order*

Kid : alright, that's all.

Y/N : why is your order so long this time??? *utterly confused*

Kid : I like to see them suffer *evil laugh*

Y/N : Ugh you're a devil. 

Kid : You mean a hot one? 

Y/N : Not as hot as Loki but OK

Kid : Loki isn't a devil, Y/N. He's a god. I thought you were a Marvel fan? 

Y/N : I am. But I like spiderman more. 

Kid : Spiderman is a part of Marvel, Y/N. Gosh.

(Camera cuts to them drinking starback before Kid drived off.)

Y/N : Well, now we're stuck in a traffic jam. And a lot of fans have been asking us questions on instagram so I thought we might answer some of them. 

Kid : Don't pick a dumb question, that's no fun. 

Y/N : Kid, if you have teeth coming out your 4nus, would you go see a dentist or a surgeon? 

Kid : what kind of question is that?? I'd say the dentist. 

Y/N : But(t) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) wouldn't you have to stick up your butt to the dentist? 

Kid : ugh, I hate your pun. Well I mean I think so but dentists spealize in teeth so going to the dentist is reasonable. 

Y/N : True dat. Ok, moving on. Are you guys dating?

Kid : HAH…. * letting out a big sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose* *whispering* why do you pick this dumb question out of all?

Y/N : I want to hear it from you, come on. *mischievous smirk*

Kid : Well, sorry for crushing your assumption, kid ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but Y/N and I aren't dating. Y/N is actually my mom's… Grandma's second cousin's… First cousin. If you get it yeah. 

Y/N : PPFFFTTT QUIT JOKING *bursts off laughing*

KID : YOU'RE JOKING WITH THAT QUESTION SO I'M JUST DOING THE SAME

Y/N : NO I'M NOT *shitting tears of joy* A person legit asked that. See? 

*Y/N showed Kid the question*

Kid : Oh wait, fr. Well, yeah, no shit sherlock. We're dating YEAAAAA

Y/N : No, he's my ex-boyfriend actually. 

Kid : Eyyy so we playing this game huh? 

Y/N : No, I'm serious. *suddenly dead serious expression*

Kid: Babe? W-what? No, you're joking. Come one now~ *his heart dropped a bit there but he won't admit it out loud*

Y/N : No, I'm not joking. *pulling out something from their pocket* Will you be my spouse instead? 

Kid: *turns into that universe/milky way meme and the math lady meme*

Y/N : Kid?? Babe??? You gotta say something. 

Kid : y-yes? 

Y/N : HE SAID YES PEOPLE! WE'RE NOT DATING, WE'RE GETTING MARRIED.

[avtrbee]

in the beginning

a/n: wow! thank you so much for all the love you gave me with never! i never expected that kind of reaction :> here's another gojo fic I wrote a couple months back, you can consider it as a prologue of the relationship or smth but it can also be a stand-alone. the fic was longer, where I included what happened directly after the wedding but I felt like this had a better conclusive ending. i can post it as part two if you want please enjoy the fic and don't hesitate to comment with some criticisms or your general feelings abt the fic! thank you once again!

summary: the beginning of y/n and gojo

my masterlist The night was quiet, aside from the calming buzz of cicadas. The cool air blows gently between both of you, lifting your hair as if you were inside some commercial. It was full and bright from where you stand with Gojo (Satoru, you quickly correct yourself. You’d be a Gojo soon enough), bathing you in the moonlight. If you were any other person, you’d think you were in some romantic getaway with your lover. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The reality was much crueler.

It was calm before the storm.

“I…” Satoru starts. “...I’m not ready to be a father, Y/N.” His body faces the beautiful scenery of lush trees in front of you with his hands in his pockets, but his face is slightly tilted to you. His usual blindfold is off, replaced by the shades you’d given him back then, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his striking eyes.

You scoff. “You’re telling me this now when we’re getting married tomorrow?” You roll your eyes in another direction, to anywhere but Satoru. Your tone was cold and hard as you felt the bitter anger rise in you again at the reminder that you were to be expected to breed like cattle, all for a hopeful offspring that can inherit your Cursed Techniques or be somehow stronger than Satoru.

The anger quickly died down as you glanced at him in your peripheral vision. Satoru was in this too, he was to be expected to breed with you, forced to raise his future children to be a soldier in a world they didn’t choose like the both of you at this moment. You make the mental note to be considerate of his feelings as well. That’s what marriage is about anyway. Right?

His childhood was pleasant from an outsider's point of view; born with techniques that make him a god, a silver spoon in his mouth, and hails from one of the three great clans. But that suffocated him. It's why Satoru is so carefree with a happy-go-lucky vibe and a problem with authority. They have dictated everything he did since he was born. You and Satoru are fools if you don't realize that the same will be done to your children.

“I’m not ready to be a mother too,” you confess, tone softer, laced with understanding. I never wanted to be one in the first place, you think but don’t bother to say. It doesn’t matter. You’re going to have to be one soon enough. “But they’re going to expect an heir and several spares as soon as possible.”

Then it was silent again, Satoru not bothering to contradict your statement. It was a fact, and it's what triggered the series of events that led you here anyway.

Some of you wonder if Satoru has ever wondered about a family of his own with a wife he actually chose. Against your better judgment, you decide to ask him exactly that. Communication is the key to any relationship, right?

“Have you ever dreamed of a family with a wife you love?”

You expected him to look at you and giggle, some half-meant tease running out of his mouth. Instead, he turned to you fully, glasses lowered, and stared. “Have you?” he asked, throwing your question back at you.

“Family? No.” You answered. “But a spouse...once in a while.” You admit, lowering your head, staring at the ground instead. You have not admitted this to anyone. Despite knowing that the possibility of you getting married off to another clan was rather great, the idea of having a family with someone you don’t love seemed meaningless. That and your utter fear of pregnancy and childbirth. You’ve seen many friends struggle with issues that are rooted in bad parenting. You don’t want that. You don’t ever want that. A spouse, however...that was a dream you’d let yourself dream when your guards are down.

“Nevertheless, they will demand a child from us. They will have a cruel fate,” you muse, staring at the ground. “If they get our cursed techniques, they’ll become a toy. If they don’t, they’ll be shamed. I don’t want that.”

"No, they won't." He replies in a firm voice. I'll protect them, goes unsaid in the cool air. You find yourself agreeing. We'll protect them.

You feel fingers below your chin, pushing your head back up for your gaze to meet with Satoru’s. His glasses were off, and you concluded that you’d never get tired staring at his eyes. It was breathtakingly blue as if there were oceans and ice glaciers hidden underneath. He stares at you for a few moments and you let him. You feel him search for something in you before curling his lips into a smile.

“Alright! It’s settled, then!” He exclaims the usual joy back in his voice. “We'll make it work, Y/N-chan.”

The disbelief escapes from your mouth before you could even control it. “Y/N-chan?” you repeat scandalized. You were many things to Gojo Satoru and he has called you such. You’d been L/N when you first met, Y/N when you got closer, 'kouhai' when he wanted to brag about how powerful he was, 'wifey' when after the announcement of your engagement or when he’s feeling mischievous in front of anyone (“We aren’t married yet, Gojo-san.” You’d remind him every time), but he has never called you Y/N-chan. You cringe.

“Whaaat?” He whines, a pout forming on his face. “You don’t like it? How about darling? I heard British people say it to each other during my visit to Europe! Dah-ling.” Satoru tried, purposefully lowering his voice, trying his hardest to have a British accent.

You burst out with a laugh, squeezing your stomach, folding over. Your eyes were squeezed shut in bliss, lost in a brief moment of happiness so you don’t see Satoru smiling softly at your laughing form.

Once you’ve calmed down, you turn away and start walking towards the path to the Gojo residence. “Let’s go, they’re probably looking for us.”

“Pbshhh,” Gojo replied, hurrying to your walking figure. “They’d probably think we’re doing something naughty~”

“Oi!” You scolded, pulling his ear. “Someone might hear you!” You could imagine the possibilities. You’d never know when someone can be hiding in the dark. You suddenly imagined the possible situation that your own father would’ve heard him. Not only would you be embarrassed, but he would most likely give you and Satoru a proud nod. He and the other Elders were the ones who pioneered your marriage anyway.

Gojo rolled his eyes at you. “It’s not like we aren’t allowed to do it.” He said with a huff. “You’re going to be my wifey!”

“We’re not married yet, Satoru.”

Though you’d come back to the residence the way you left, with your hands behind your back and his hidden underneath his pockets, the atmosphere between you was not as cold as before.

[imagine-always-and-forever]

In Plain Sight – Part 9

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word length: 1432

Warnings: typical violence and stuff you’d see in the show (oh and swearing)

Request: Hello! I just found your blog and I’m living it! Can you do a Klaus story where the reader has twins with him but he didn’t know (maybe one of his siblings helped them hid or something?) But that they are older then Hope by like a year so when their Aunt comes for a firstborn and funds Hope is not it she goes after the reader who Klaus was in fact in love with? If not its cool no pressure :) (requested by @poemfreak306 )

Summary: Y/N calls out some serious bullshit

Taglist @burningmusicmachine @sophiasotherdaughter @thatweirdoleigh @quaint-and-curious-being @hoeofnjadaka @slowlybeautifulprinces @angel34jolly-blog @princess-of-the-fandoms @skeletoresinthebasement @sollyemad-blog @chfyu @britt-mf @happy-sunny-flowers @aomi-nabi @teenwolfbitches28 @sw-eat-ing @elle88531 @selena8712 @itsalaurelhell @cuddlyklaus @kathrynisadogperson @poemfreak306 @cuddlyklaus @kathrynisadogperson @youngestxhearts @angelsfallingdown @itskindofafairything @nobody7102 @theroyalbrownbarbie @fangirlbitch02 @fandomrulesall-blog @katykat71114 @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @mschellehitt @loki-is-loved @queenofkings121 @thegingerthatwaited @littlemissslytherinprincess @youngestxhearts @roxytheimmortal @pisicakawritesshitatfour @abitchforbarnes @nonvoglioperderti00 @melaniin-monroe @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @exyqueenkvnday @queenofkings121-blog @itsyaboi-uhhh-skinnypenis @avengers-fixation @crackhead1-800 @feelinrosier @jana-jaeynneee @romyislief @tired-meg @duskrosee @sagittarianwolf @megatron07 @fandomrulesall-blog @geekofmanyforms @creative-diaries

(if you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know! And if I’ve forgotten you on the tag list, let me know that as well!)

Author’s note: small update, but stay tuned for the next part! Please do let me know if you're enjoying it! It really helps keep me motivated and the doubts away

“Klaus,” the man carrying the body yells before moving into the dinning room and placing the body across the table.

You followed Klaus over as Elijah re-joined you all to see what the commotion was, your moment put aside for the time.

The body on the table was of a young man who couldn’t have been more than his early twenties. His throat was ripped out, a tell tale sign of a vampire attack. His death had not been pleasant. You supposed he was with Hayley’s so called pack. You wondered who had killed the werewolf. As you looked up to Klaus in order to gauge the situation better, you were surprised to see his eyes widen and surprise on his own face at the body.

“What happened?” Elijah asked.

“You tell us,” Hayley retorted with a distinct accusation in her tone that made you frown. Her eyes were on Klaus and you could feel tension in the room.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” the man who had carried the body in started before anyone could say another word. He held a threatening finger up in Klaus’s general direction. “Aiden told me he was working for Klaus. Klaus found out and he killed him for it,” he accused.

You frowned as Hayley asked if this was true. The pack’s eyes were on Klaus, but they clearly didn’t know him well enough. Perhaps if Elijah wasn’t so focused on Hayley, he’d have noticed it too. You could see the gears in Klaus’s head turning, surprise giving way to realisation, hurt even, then another realisation, a plan, and finally that stubborn resolution you knew all too well.

“So what if I did?” Klaus asked, the picture of calm.

You stared at him as the arguments started, as Klaus claimed the body was a good example of what happened when someone crossed him. You listened in confusion, waiting for Elijah at the very least to get it, while Hayley’s wolf pack tried to attack Klaus.

“Enough,” Elijah ordered, shoving Hayley to the ground after she went for Klaus.

Hayley shoved him back, asking if he’d kill her too. You looked at the scene, the people before you, the body, not saying a word, forgotten about by the others in the room.

“If you want to get to my brother, you’ll have to go through me,” Elijah informed them all calmly, pulling a smug smirk from Klaus who stood behind him.

“You’re all so stupid,” you stated as you watched Klaus speed from the room.

“What?” Hayley asked, just realising you were there.

“Who’s this?” the man, perhaps Hayley’s closest ally in her pack, asked with a look of suspicion in his eyes.

“Y/N,” Elijah said, giving the man your name. “This is Jackson,” he informed you. You eyed the wolf up, unsure what to make of him.

Friend or foe? He and Klaus were clearly not friends, but then again Klaus’s spying on him really didn’t tell you much. He spied on everyone.

“You’re Y/N?” Jackson asked, taking a moment to return your scrutiny. Whatever he had thought about you seemed to be clashing with the image he had created in his mind. You found yourself, once again, to be the least informed person in the room and it was starting to bug you.

“I take it you’re in Hayley’s pack?” you asked, sending a small glare in Elijah’s direction for leaving yet another detail out of the complicated mess you had been pulled into.

“Her husband, actually,” he said and there was something possessive about his tone that you didn’t like. You saw Elijah’s smile tighten at his words and noted Jackson’s eyes give the original a pointed glance.

Oh.

Hayley really wasn’t anything to Klaus then. You swallowed uncomfortably at the new complication.

“It’s a long story,” Hayley added, equally uncomfortable. She couldn’t seem to look either man in the eyes, but nevertheless she stood by her husbands side and you thought that spoke volumes enough.

“Y/N, do you care to explain why you have come to the fascinating conclusion that we are all…stupid?” Elijah asked, quickly changing the subject with as much elegance as possible.

You blinked and turned to see if he was serious. His genuine curiosity spread across his face told you that he was and it took you a second to realise. Of course. Hayley had blinded him.

A complication indeed.

“He didn’t kill him,” you said gesturing to the body. The resulting grumbles from the men behind Hayley and Jackson were met with an intense glare. “Think about it,” you told them, allowing the incredulous tone in your voice to show.

“I believe you will have to explain this one, Y/N,” Elijah admitted after a few seconds of silence.

“He has no reason to kill him,” you explain, as if to a child. Jackson opened his mouth to argue, but you interrupted before he could start. “He had genuine surprise on his face when he saw the body. He had no idea that he was dead. I mean you could practically see the idea form in his head to take the blame.”

“Why would he do that?” Hayley asked, arms crossed.

“You really don’t know him very well do you?” you asked, tilting your head to examine her.

It dawned on you in that moment that if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with Hope, she’d never have been more than a passing face in the Mikaelsons’ lives. Pettily, it made you feel better.

“Of course,” Elijah sighed. He walked over to the body and looked down at the dead man who almost caused them to rip each other apart. “If you are too afraid of his retaliation then you won’t run,” he said, finally getting it.

“Exactly.”

Hayley, Jackson, and their wolves did not look convinced.

“Then who did?” Hayley asked.

“I wonder who could benefit from us all fighting each other?” you asked, unable to stop the sarcasm from coming out and wondering how in the world she was able to run an entire pack if she couldn’t piece this together.

“Dahlia,” Jackson answered.

“She staged it to look like a vampire attack,” Elijah noted, turning the dead man’s head to the side to examine his throat.

“So what do we do now?” Hayley asked and they all turned to look at you, causing you to sigh.

“I’ll go talk to Klaus,” you decided and started for the door.

“Find out what he’s planning,” Jackson told you.

You stopped in your tracks, a flood of irritation rushing over you. Spinning around, you pinned Jackson with a hard glare before storming up to him.

“Let’s get one thing straight, wolf boy,” you started, being sure to be just enough in his personal space as to make him take a step back in surprise. “I do not take orders from you.” You held his gaze, daring him to say a word. “I am not your spy, I am not your friend, I am not on your side. I am here to protect my children.”

Hayley took a step towards you and you whirled around to face her.

“And you,” you started, approaching her slowly. If you were going to clear things up then you might as well be crystal clear on all accounts. “You and I are on the same side because, and only because, we both have children to protect here. You might be their family, but I don’t know you. I certainly don’t trust you.”

You turned so you could address Jackson, Hayley, and Elijah.

“You’re distrust and disloyalty to Klaus is more than stupid. He has proven time and time again, for literally over a millennia that he will protect his family. If anyone in this entire world can stop Dahlia and keep these children safe, keep us all safe, it’s him. To even question it is absolutely ludicrous.” You knew you were ranting but you couldn’t seem to stop. “What more does he have to do? How many times can he save your lives? Can he prove himself over every enemy to ever step foot into his path? You will not win against Klaus, and you will not win without him. So stop this pathetic and incessant obsession you have against him and do yourselves a favour: learn to trust the one person who actually has pure intention here.”

With that, you stormed off.

“Pure intentions?” Jackson scoffed.

You paused, knowing you could pretend to not have heard it. But you couldn’t quite let it go. Unfortunately, you had no choice. You had to find Klaus.

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober day 15: Collaring

Gun Play || Collaring || Masturbation

The Darkling x fem!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: smut, protective!Darkling, fingering

Notes: I saw this prompt and just HAD to write it for the Darkling lol. But I also made it soft too! Kinkotber list provided by @the-purity-pen​. If you’d like to stay updated on my fics, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

“What. Happened?” General Kirigan snarled as his subordinate gave him the report of the most recent mission.

“T-they were attacked,” the young man stuttered, scared to tell the general any bad news. He tried his best to keep calm as he explained the situation. You had led a group of grisha out on a mission and you were ambushed. Some didn’t make it, and some came back injured and were sent right to the healers. 

Kirigan didn’t even wait to hear the rest. Once he heard you made it back, he pushed the other man out of the way and bolted for the healer’s area. A glare stayed on his face as he sped through the halls, and he didn’t exhale until he entered the healing room and saw you in the far end. He let out a deep sigh when he saw you were mostly unharmed and he watched silently as you watched over your unit. Without a word, Kirigan slipped back into the shadows, satisfied that you were back and safe for now.

It was a long day for you, and you didn’t make it back to your room until late in the night. But, just as you were about to open your door, a large hand covered yours and you let out a surprised gasp. When you quickly turned your gaze, your shoulders dropped as you looked into the deep, dark eyes of General Kirigan.

“General,” you breathed, “I didn’t hear you.”

“Come with me,” he growled as he took your hand and led you away from your room and towards his own. 

You followed obediently and without a word. Your heart pounded in your chest at the low tone of his voice and the way he held your hand so tightly. When you got back and healed, you looked for your general, but he was nowhere to be found. Slightly disappointed, you kept your focus on the others until you were sure everyone was alright. It was definitely a pleasant surprise that he waited for you outside your room.

Kirigan was quiet as he led you down the hall and into his quarters where he quickly ushered you inside and locked the door behind him. Before you could get even a single word in, he crossed the space between you, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. You moaned into his mouth as you parted your lips for him and held onto his kefta as you felt weightless under his touch.

“Are you alright?” Kirgain mumbled against your skin as he peppered kisses along your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m ok, General,” you whispered back as you melted from the way he kisses and sucked at your neck.

“What have I told you about when we’re alone?”

You grinned, “Aleksander,” you breathed his name as you felt him push your kefta off your shoulders.

“That’s better,” his voice dripped with need as he broke away from you and carefully hung your kefta up. He quickly slid his own off next and hung it next to yours.

You bit your lip as you watched the way he handled your kefta with care before he crossed the room and took something out of a drawer. The question was apparent in your eyes, but you stayed quiet as you watched Aleksander close the gap between your bodies again. He wrapped his arms around you and engulfed you in his embrace as he took your lips with his once more. 

As he kissed you desperately, Aleksander shuffled your bodies towards his bed and clawed at the rest of your clothes along the way. You gave yourself to him willingly and you let him strip you of everything while you tugged at his jacket in a wordless request. He smirked against your lips as he broke away to allow you to remove his jacket and shirt before the back of your legs hit the bed.

Aleksander didn’t let you fall back onto the plush mattress just yet, and he held you close as he finally showed you what he took from the drawer, “Will you wear this for me?”

Your eyes went wide as you studied what was in his hand: a beautiful black collar with silver accents. You could tell it was expertly made and tailored just for you, and it was absolutely beautiful. As you scanned the collar, your eyes landed on the d-ring where a shiny chain dangled from. Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes trailed up Aleksander’s arm to meet his eyes.

“Yes,” your voice was hushed, but there was no hint of hesitation there.

“Good girl,” his voice made you clench as you let out a soft whimper. You stayed perfectly still for him as he carefully fastened the collar around your neck and tightened it enough so you felt the pressure, but it didn’t obstruct your breathing, “Beautiful,” Aleksander gave the chain an experimental tug to get you to look up at him before he took your lips with his again, “Now everyone will know you are mine.”

“Yours...” you moaned as you felt yourself get weak in the knees. But he wouldn’t let you fall. Aleksander wrapped his free arm around you and spun you around so that your back was to him.

As you spun around, your hands landed on the mattress and you felt him tug at the chain more. Aleksander caressed your hip as he kissed his way down your spine while he kept the chain taught. “Get on the bed,” he ordered.

You whimpered in response as you did as you were told. The chain stayed firm so that you felt the pressure of the collar on your neck, and the sensation drove you wild. You stayed up on all fours while Aleksander stood behind you and inspected your body. His hand ran up and down your back a few times before he gave your ass a firm squeeze.

“Aleksander…” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut.

He chuckled darkly from behind you as his hand moved towards your pussy. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt his fingers along your folds and you gripped onto the sheets tightly.

“So wet for me already,” lust dripped from his voice as he pushed two fingers into you and savored the cry of pleasure that you let out. He tugged at the collar a little more tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you a few times. But between the way you looked and the beautiful sounds you let out, Aleksander couldn’t keep his control much longer.

He withdrew his fingers from you and quickly stripped himself of his pants. Before you could even turn around, you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance and your head dropped down onto the mattress. Your moans were stifled by the sheets as you felt him slowly enter you. But, the general did not like that.

“Let me hear you, love,” he purred as he tugged at the chain to get you back up on all fours.

Your mouth dropped open as you cried out in ecstasy. You clutched at the sheets as you felt him fill you inch by delicious inch while the collar around your neck gave you that added pressure that you didn’t even realize you craved. “Aleksander… please…” you didn’t even know what you begged for, you just knew you needed more.

Aleksander seemed to know your mind better than you did, and he rocked his hips in and out of you in a steady rhythm. One hand held your hip while the other held onto the chain. His dark eyes narrowed as he relished the look of his collar against your skin. With a low growl, he picked up his pace as he fucked you with a dire need. You moaned even louder as you felt the way he pounded into you and how amazing it felt.

He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around you while he slipped his fingers around the collar with his free hand, “I thought I lost you,” Aleksander confessed in your ear as he rocked in and out of you with abandon.

“Aleks…”

“With this,” he tugged at the collar, which made you cry out from the added pressure, “No one would dare touch you,” he snapped his hips against yours in a harsh thrust, “No one would dare take what is mine from me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he plunged into you with slow, hard, dartmined thrusts. No words could form in your head, just thoughts of lust and need as you felt him around you. All you could do was let him ravish you, but that was exactly what you wanted, and you moaned and cried out as you felt your climax build.

“You going to cum for me?” Aleksander groaned in your ear when he felt you clench around him, “Come on, love. Cum for me,” he added as he reached around you to fiddle at your clit.

Your head snapped back as your orgasm washed over you without warning. Your loud cries filled the room and your body shook as you fought to stay up on your limbs while you rode out your high on his cock. Aleksander didn’t slow down as he pounded into you, even as he felt you gush around him, determined to pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.

It wasn’t until your moans turned to whimpers that he finally let you go and you collapsed down onto the bed as he thrust into you as he chased his own climax. The swirl of emotions and need spurred Aleksander on and it didn’t take long for him to cum right after you. He let out a low growl as he came deep inside you, and his own juices mixed with yours.

Once he had no more to give, Aleksander collapsed on top of you and heavy breaths from both of you filled the room. He stayed buried inside you as a mix of both your cum slowly leaked out from around his cock. The two of you stayed still like that for several moments until Aleksander slowly pushed himself up and pulled out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, but made no attempt to move.

He didn’t stay away from you long, however, and after he grabbed a cloth and cleaned you up, Aleksander laid down on the bed and pulled you in close. Silence fell between you as he held you tight against his chest, and the weight of the day finally caught up to him. But before he broke the silence with another confession, the sound of your soft snores interrupted his thoughts, and Aleksander looked down to find you fast asleep in his arms. The collar stayed secure around your neck, and he couldn’t help the way his heart flipped in his chest.

He gently touched the collar as he whispered, “This will keep you safe… And mine,” his voice was softer as he spoke to your sleeping figure. He left it unsaid how scared he actually was when he heard you got attacked. But now that you were here, Aleksander was determined never to let you go.

~

Ben Barnes characters 

@addriaenne​ @kaqua​ @fific7​ @purple-poppy​ @katedrexel​ @things4your​ @wvndasmaximoff​ @rachlovesactors​ @eternallyvenus​ @datrie​ @lilypad-55449​ @coldlilheart​ @sam-hollandsgirl​ @carlywhomever​ @practicalghost​ @recklessworry​ @evyiione​ @eginv-blog​ @bisexualbilly​ 

The Darkling

@gallysonegoodlung​

[abimess]

The high price of love // Part 5

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist | Library Blog

Summary: Loving and desiring someone are the best things a human can possibly do. But what happens when you feel these things for a woman much older than you? [3.783 || 16.160]

Warnings: fluff; angst; milf; smut (+18 only!)

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

All parts | Part 4 (Read on: Wattpad || AO3)

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

In the weeks that follow, you and Wanda meet frequently.

In general, either you go to her house when her children aren’t home or Wanda comes to your house when Nat isn’t home.

You tried to go somewhere public once, you arranged to meet at an ice cream parlor near Wanda's work. But the tension caused by the fear of being seen by some acquaintance made the date completely unnerving, so you went back to your secret dates.

But this wasn’t a problem, really. Any time spent with Wanda was wonderful, wherever it was. And the redhead feels the same way about you.

In the beginning, you spent most of your time having sex. But as time went by, the dates changed to cooking together, watching movies together, talking or even doing nothing at all, just cuddling.

It’s crystal clear that you had fallen in love with Wanda and were falling more and more deeply as time went by. Absolutely everything about her made you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, the only time you weren't longing to be with her was when you were already with her.

But even with the feeling getting more and more intense, you still couldn't find the courage to tell her. Because sometimes it seemed like she felt the same way, but sometimes it seemed like the fear of judgment would overcome anything she might feel for you.

But anyway, you had to try. You had to get this feeling out before it consumed you. You just had to find the right way to do it.

Your whirlwind of thought was interrupted by a flying object being thrown at your face. You startle, and with a frown of confusion and surprise, you examine the object and discover it to be the dishcloth.

"Hey!" you say indignantly, looking at your aunt and throwing the thing back at her. The woman catches the cloth in the air with an amused smile on her face. "I've been talking to you for five minutes, I needed to get your attention somehow."

You snort, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burn. "I was thinking about how to solve a complicated issue." You say, fiddling with the books in front of you and pretending to be talking about the subject.

"That’s okay." Nat replies in a gentle tone and you feel a twinge in your stomach caused by the guilt of you lying to her. You’ve never done that before.

A pleasant silence falls over the two of you and you turn your attention back to the worksheets you’re solving for college.

"A guy started working at the company this week." Nat tells you after a while, finishing wiping down the dishes and taking a seat at the table, a few chairs away from you. You hum inattentively, focused on the worksheet in front of you.

"His name is Steve. He seems nice. And he's very handsome too." Nat comments casually and you snort amusedly, your eyes never leaving the paper in front of you.

"Jeez, Nat, just ask the guy out already." You tease and hear Nat laugh shortly after. "It's not for me, you idiot. It's for Wanda."

"No!" You exclaim, finally raising your eyes from the paper and looking at your aunt. You look at her with an almost panicked expression and she looks at you completely confused. You swallow dryly, straightening yourself in your chair and pondering the best way to reverse the awkward situation you’ve just created.

"You can't just set people up on dates, Nat, it's weird." You say, using all the determination in you to keep your voice calm and the woman nods, but the frown is still there. "You should call her first and ask if she wants to."

At your words, Nat hums in agreement and flashes you a grateful smile, which you try your best to reciprocate. Your aunt gets up and walks into the living room with her cell phone in hand and all you can think is that she is going to call Wanda right now.

With your leg trembling frantically with anxiety, you try to pretend to turn your attention back to the worksheets. After a few minutes (that seemed like hours) Nat returns to the kitchen.

You ask your aunt how the conversation went, trying to sound as casual as possible, and when Nat says that Wanda accepted, you feel your heart sink into your chest.

-----

As well as your whole saga with Wanda, you told Robin about this episode as well.

But this time, you didn't want to prolong the subject. Because this time you were not sad, you were angry. You were furious, to be honest.

After all those weeks together, you thought you’re building something special. Wanda made you believe that you were. Was it all a lie? It couldn't be. Her loving gaze and passionate smile couldn't be lies.

You try to put it out of your head. All the traits and characteristics of the redhead you ruefully love pushed to the back of your mind.

Who does she think she is? Or even better, who does she think you are? She had no right to do that to you. So every time she calls or texts, you ignore her.

-----

It's been a few days since you started ghosting Wanda and the redhead finally seemed to catch on and stopped trying to reach out for you. You don't know if this helped or not.

You had a bad night. The thoughts about Wanda didn't even let you close your eyes during the night and you couldn't sleep until the sun was coming up. Besides, Nat needed the car today.

The fact that you were late this morning combined with the unavailability of your private vehicle could only have one result, and it was: you missed the bus.

But you take a deep breath, already having too much trouble to stress over. You start walking and check the time on your cell phone. With an annoyed sigh, you send a message to Robin explaining the situation and asking her to find someone to cover your first shift of tutoring.

You walk for a few minutes and with each step you curse yourself for being such a sedentary. Half way there and you already feel that you’re about to die. But thoughts of Wanda cross your mind once more and the anger works as an impulse so you keep walking.

Not long after, you hear a car horn next to you, and when you turn to look who it is you immediately clench your jaw. Looking forward again, you walk faster.

Wanda drives at the same pace as you and opens the passenger seat window. "I can give you a ride." She says, bending down so she can see you, and you laugh dryly.

"The last thing I want is to get in a car with you, Wanda." You say through clenched teeth. You risk an irritated look at her, and the hurt expression on her face almost makes you give in. Almost.

"What happened, (Y/n)? You don't answer any of my texts and you don't answer any of my calls." She says and another fake laugh escapes your mouth. "That's what happens when someone doesn't want to talk to you, you know?"

Wanda speeds up and you think she’s given up. But when she stops the car, you sigh in irritation. She gets out of the car, but you keep walking. Wanda follows you.

"Talk to me!" She says, pulling on your arm and you turn to face her. Like her voice, Wanda's face is charged with irritation and vulnerability, and you have to control yourself not to reach out and hug her tight.

"What happened?" she asks, her voice breaking a little and her eyebrows frowning. You look at her in disbelief. "What happened?! You ask me again after your date."

Wanda crosses her arms and laughs in disbelief. "I can't believe you just said that." She says and you feel your irritation rise. "Yeah, and I can't believe I'm still talking to you." You retort and turn to walk again.

"For God's sake, (Y/n), is that what this is about?" She asks, her voice a little high with irritation as she speeds up to get in front of you.

"Weren't you the one who gave Nat the idea to ask me about the date in the first place?" She asks, her eyebrows raised in defiance. You run your fingers through your hair, impatient. "What did you want me to do? Oh, better not, Nat, Wanda and I kind of are together."

Wanda's breath hitches and you feel your face heat up. You have never discussed the terms of what you really are to each other. But that doesn't matter now. So you continue. "I couldn't tell her about us."

"I know that!" She replies angrily. "That's why I said yes, so she wouldn't suspect." You snort, shaking your head. "You didn't have to go on a date with someone else for that."

Wanda groans in irritation, running her fingers through her hair. "It's just dinner, (Y/n)!" She explodes, and you laugh dryly.

"Oh yeah? Well, good dinner to you then, Wanda." You reply and turn to walk back toward the school. This time, when Wanda calls you, you don't look back.

-----

Wanda barely notices the way home, and notices even less when her feet carry her straight to her bed, or when her arms embrace your jacket. But when she comes back to reality, she notices the tears streaming down her cheeks.

She caresses the jacket, but really she wants to be caressing you. Playing with your hair as you lay your head on her chest, hugging her tight. Or running her fingers along your jaw as she stares at your face, admiring every one of your features, feeling welcomed by the loving gaze you give her. A completely different gaze than the one you gave her today.

Wanda lets out a deep, shaky breath as she repeats in her mind the conversation she just had with you. All the feelings are consuming her.

She loves the way you are with Billy and Tommy. You treat them so well, with such love and care, that Wanda can't help it if her chest also fills with even more love and care for you. So the redhead asked her children what they thought of you. And when they genuinely said they liked you, she smiled, feeling her heart warm up. But when they referred to you as an older sister, the smile faltered immediately, her heart tightening with the weight of reality.

Even though she didn't want to admit it, Wanda spent her days thinking about you. So every time she and Nat talked, she had to control herself not to ask about you. Most of the time she didn't have to since Natasha eventually talked about you. It was frightening how much Wanda waited for the moment she would. But sometimes Nat didn't, so Wanda would ask how you were doing. The redhead tried to be as casual as possible, but sometimes her friend would look at her curiously before answering. Nat never commented on it, but the discomfort within Wanda was inevitable. In any case, she could not stop wanting to know how you were doing.

When Nat suggested the blind date with the stranger from her work, Wanda was going to refuse immediately. The idea of going on a date with anyone was absurd when the only person she wanted to go on a date with was you.

But then her friend said that it was your idea to ask her about it, so Wanda figured that it was part of some kind of plan to disguise your relationship so she accepted. Apparently she was wrong.

Wanda laughs, a dry laugh without a hint of mirth. Relationship. You never discussed the labels of whatever it is you have and Wanda never wanted to ask. She was afraid of the answer.

At first, Wanda thought you wanted nothing to do with her. Because, honestly, how could you? She, a mother of two children having to work almost all day to pay the bills and barely having time to do anything else besides that. And you, having your whole life ahead of you.

Even though she really wanted to have you around, Wanda couldn't ask you to give up your youth to build a life with her. It's not fair and she would never do that.

But you kept coming back, and she didn't have the strength (much less the will) to keep you away. So she let you in. And the more she got to know you, the more she fell in love with you.

Another dry laugh. Falling in love with you. What a terrible mistake. It was obvious that she would fall in love with you when you always seemed to do everything for her. But it was also obvious that you wouldn't feel the same way, because she and everything she brought along with her was too much.

It was just casual. It was fun and it was good. That's all it was. But whatever it was, it was ruined now.

Wanda sighs once more, but this time to pull herself together. The redhead gets up, a very busy day ahead of her. But she knew that her mind would be overloaded with thoughts of you throughout the entire day.

-----

Wanda is a drug.

She got into your veins, filling you with the most beautiful things and the best sensations. She filled you up completely, and when she wasn't around, she left you desperate for more.

But now you were apart for longer than you used to be, and the most deplorable phase has come: abstinence.

Just like a real drug, the lack of Wanda brought the most diverse effects on your body and dealing with them became more and more difficult.

Sometimes you felt your head was spinning so fast that you had to find absolutely anything to distract yourself. Other times, your mind was a complete blank, and you stared at some point in the distance, static, until reality called you again.

Some days, the sadness would hit you deeply. Getting out of bed was hard, and going about your day without crying all the time was even harder. On other days you were consumed by anger and had to resist the urge to break everything around you.

Some nights it was impossible to sleep, because Wanda would invade your mind completely, forbidding you to close your eyes no matter how hard you fought against it. But other nights you would sleep peacefully and dream of her. And it would be almost impossible to wake up because those moments were the only moments you had left with her.

And so you were late for work once again. But this time it wasn't such a problem, because you didn't have to take the bus and you also wouldn't have to give the monitorship in the first period.

But when you arrived at school, Ned informed you that the principal wanted to talk to you. Your stomach immediately sank at the possibility that you might be fired. But Ned was clearly trying to hold back a smile, so the feeling of apprehension was replaced by one of curiosity.

So you walk to the principal's office and knock a few times before opening the door. "Good morning, principal Fury, you wanted to-" The question dies as your eyes rest on the person you least needed to see right now. Wanda.

"Good morning, Miss (Y/l/n)." The man says and it takes a little effort for you to look away from Wanda to him. "Mrs. Maximoff's children will attend our school next year, possibly." He informs, as if those were the best news in the world and you force a smile.

Wanda watches you intently. You look good. Better than she remembered, even though you don't seem to have any flaw in the redhead's thoughts. But you avoid looking at her as much as you can, and Wanda feels her chest heavy. All she wants now is to run to you and hug you tight. But she can't. So the redhead crosses her arms tightly in front of her body.

"I would like someone to show her around the school and since Mr. Leeds has informed me that you two already know each other, I believe you are the best choice." The principal continues speaking and with each new word all you want to do is leave the room and run as far away as possible. Stopping only to strangle Ned on the way.

But you can't. So you smile politely and look at Wanda briefly before answering. "It would be my pleasure, principal." At your words, the man smiles satisfied and indicates for Wanda to follow you.

You walk through the halls in silence, the tension evident. You show the rooms and explain about how the school works. But Wanda doesn't seem very interested in what you’re saying, and you yourself are not at all interested in giving her this tour either.

You’re walking down one of the corridors on the second floor when you feel that you can no longer keep your thoughts to yourself.

"Following me on the street and now in my workplace? This is starting to get weird." You say through gritted teeth and out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda gripping the strap of her purse tighter.

"I wasn't following you the other day, I had just dropped the boys off at school.” She says, her voice low so that the other people in the hallway don't hear. "And I really do have plans to transfer them here. Is it a crime to get to know the school?" She asks, the last question coming out in a discreet tone of sarcasm and you give a half smile.

"The school year isn't over for another four months, you'd have plenty of time to do that." You retort, but even as the anger burns, it's getting harder and harder not to give in. Wanda sighs beside you and holds your arm. When you stop and look at her, the redhead looks more vulnerable than ever.

"I came because I wanted to see you." She confesses and you hold your breath for a second. "I miss you, (Y/n/n)." The soft, sincere voice made its way to your heart, softening it. The nickname certainly doesn't help.

You take a deep breath, looking down the hallways and then quickly guiding Wanda to one of the rooms that you know are empty.

As soon as you close the door, you lean your back against the wood. "I missed you too." You admit with a sigh, tired of lying. Wanda walks over to you, but you hold out your hand and she stops. "But I'm still hurt."

Wanda returns to walk in your direction, slowly this time. The redhead extends her hands slowly to your face, and when you don't stop her from caressing your cheeks she smiles.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." She says, but you keep looking down. Wanda scans your face, wondering what to say next, but soon you lift your gaze to her.

"Are you still going out with him?" You ask, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in hurt, and Wanda smiles softly. "I have to."

She says and you sigh, closing your eyes. You know she’s right. Going back now would only make things worse.

You feel Wanda's forehead against yours and you move your hands to her waist, stroking her with your thumbs. Her touch invades your senses like waves of relief, relaxing your whole body. She really is a drug.

Wanda is about to say something, but she’s interrupted by her cell phone ringing in her purse. She moves away from you just enough to pick up the device and she gives you a sad smile when she sees the screen. "It's him." She says and you clench your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets.

Wanda answers the call and you watch the redhead intently. She smiles and your chest heavens. When she giggles shyly, you feel the anger beginning to consume you again. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night, as well." She says and you laugh dryly, looking away and shaking your head. Wanda looks concerned at you briefly but you don't see it. "I need to go now." You hear Wanda say, but you keep looking away. She says goodbye to him, and soon it’s silent again.

When she puts her cell phone back in her purse and walks over to you, you look at her again. "It really looks like you're doing that because you have it." You say, eyebrows raised slightly, and Wanda sighs. "(Y/n), don't do this. I-"

She starts to explain but you don't want to hear it. You pull her by the waist and kiss her. It takes a second for Wanda to respond, her whole body freezing in surprise. But soon she wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you passionately.

The kiss intensifies and you turn with Wanda, pushing her backwards and pressing her against the classroom door. Wanda pulls her face away from yours when a moan of pain and pleasure escapes her lips as the redhead feels her back slam against the wood. But without delay she returns to kissing you, more intensely than before.

You kiss her neck, biting a sensitive spot and Wanda sighs. You kneel in front of her, lifting the fabric of her dress, and the redhead holds her breath. All of this was completely unexpected, but she certainly wasn't complaining.

When Wanda feels you running your tongue along her intimacy, she sighs at the sensation, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the door.

You keep moving your tongue constantly over her clit, but you don't have much time, so soon you slide two fingers inside her at once and Wanda struggles to contain her moans, holding tightly to the doorknob to keep her balance.

After a while, you feel Wanda tightening against your fingers and her body twitching in ever increasing spasms. She is close. So you stop.

You stand up, withdrawing your fingers from her. Wanda whimpers displeased and looks at you with a confused frown, but you only smile mischievously at her.

"Remember this when you go out with him tomorrow night." You say. And without waiting for an answer, you leave.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

Part 6

Taglist: @yuhloversxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose @helloalycia @wandas1mp @cantcontroltheirfear @diaryoflife @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cristin-rjd @ensorcellme @aimezvousbrahms @natasha-danvers @purplemeetsblue @randomshyperson @peggycarter-steverogers @b0mbdotc0m @yourtaletotell @ethereal-pxradise @stephanieromanoff @tomy5girls @justagaypanicking @gingerbreadcookieforlife @imapotatao @musicinourlips @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @allfiguredout @olsensnpm @magicallymaximoff @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @nothing-isimpossible @mionemymind @itsmionet @xastrydx @sxfwap @nicole-rayleigh-hot @wellsayhelloaagin @daisybri7 @midnight-lestrange (let me know if you wanna be tagged)

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Diluc, Childe, and Venti HCs.

i’ve been into genshin impact the past month so it was just inevitable at this point

Diluc:

Diluc’s descent into obsession would be a slow one, characterized by doubt and distancing. He’s journeyed the world, exploring the darkest corners, coming out a different person for it. Change doesn’t always mean improvement. Underneath a carefully crafted façade of composure, is the fear that he’ll lose you too. 

His mind becomes a battleground, logic versus emotion. Diluc is aware of what his impulses mean, that it’s immoral, and how he shouldn’t entertain them any longer. Entangling himself in a romantic relationship would serve no practical purpose. He tells himself this, unable to look away when you’re in the room. His thoughts don’t align with his actions. 

Diluc is mindful of his actions and surveillance of you. He can’t get too close -- not yet -- while there are still people who’d seek to hurt him by any means necessary. So for now, he contents himself in making small but meaningful contributions to your life. 

Not one to flaunt his wealth openly, Diluc would be surprised how much of a crutch it becomes in his pursuit of you. Mysterious gifts from an unknown admirer become the norm in your life. He’s displeased with himself at first, but being as inexperienced in courting as he is, it feels like a good place to start.

Your interactions are curt yet pleasant. When Diluc isn’t working, he tends to avoid people but is always open to discussion with you. He allows you to carry the conversation, asking open-ended questions with the hopes of learning more. Any troubles in your life that you share with Diluc will seemingly disappear overnight. 

The only time he’d ever take drastic action is if you were somehow in danger. That’d be a tipping point, one he’d never bounce back from, crazed at the idea of you being harmed. What he ultimately will depend on you. Should you welcome Diluc into your life, under the guise of keeping you safe, all will seem well on a surface level. 

It’s when you refuse the limitations he “suggests” following your life-threatening encounter, that Diluc changes his methodology. He’ll explain, in a calm voice, that your physical well-being will come before your happiness.  

Childe:

Childe, while not malicious for the sake of it, has shown he’s willing to accomplish his morally ambiguous goals by any means. This means that nothing in the pursuit of winning you over his off the table. Bribing, intimidation, kidnapping; whatever it takes is his motto. 

He’ll initiate a give and take relationship to ensnare you. The phrase “too good to be true”, is evident with Childe. You don’t meet the standards for a loan with the bank? Oh, you poor thing, leave it all to him; he promises to take care of everything. Childe disguises himself as your savior when in reality, he’s anything but altruistic. There comes a time where the debt will be repaid. 

It won’t come down crashing down at you at once. No, it’ll be a slow yet steady plan to trap you, and an effective one. Childe will hint at suggestions on how to keep him on your good side. That he’s done oh so much for you, more than anyone else would. Why not give him a chance? 

If you deny him what he wants outright, you won’t see the consequences immediately. Childe will sigh, muttering something about how unfortunate your decision is, but that he thinks he can change your mind eventually. All said with a tight-lipped smile. 

That’s when you feel the ripples in the water. Any business that you’re associated with will be met with fierce competition from the Fatui, rendering them obsolete. This extends to your family as well, financial pressure unrelenting from all sides, a clear agitator in your mind. 

You know it’s Childe. He knows that you know. And god, if he doesn’t love every second of it, watching how you’re forced to come crawling back to him. Or maybe he’ll pay you a visit, under the pretense of checking in. Whatever the case may be, you’re presented with a single out. Devote your life to him as he has his to yours. 

Childe promises you, that all will be forgiven, that he’s willing to put it in the past. So don’t look at him like that, he is being more generous with you than he would be anyone else. Don’t test that benevolence any longer. Giving yourself to him isn’t an unreasonable request, he assures. 

Venti: 

Venti isn’t held back by rules and obligations like most. He does what interests him, whether it be traveling or recounting legends to captivated crowds. Trivial matters, or more precisely, human matters such as love were never given credence. This leads him to be unsure of his approach to you. 

He plays it as naturally as he can. Venti makes random appearances in your life, popping up at the most opportune times, intent on seeking out your company. Even if you’re busy, he’ll still be by to chat you up. There’s no ridding yourself of him. Venti is everywhere you are. 

You might be left with the impression that he knows more than he lets on. That beneath the carefree smiles and singing, there’s ancient wisdom being drawn from. Venti knows a little too much -- more than any man could -- and doesn’t seem to care much that you pick up on it. If anything, he hopes that it’ll impress you. 

Venti believes that the winds will lead you to him. Even if it’s just for a moment, he omits the knowledge of how immoral this is from his mind, guiding you on a path with a single destination. Venti reassures himself that such minor interference on his behalf is trivial. 

Venti’s surprised by much he enjoys physical contact. Even if it’s just resting his head against your shoulder, it’s thrilling, unlike anything he’s experienced before. He has numerous methods of getting information on you, but none can compete with the pleasure of close physical proximity. He’s very touchy, shrugging it off should you ever point it out.

When he can no longer suppress his obsession with you, it bleeds into every aspect of his life. Venti’s lyrics and ballads will consist solely of love stories, a stark change in tone from his normal adventure-based narratives. Some might gather that the young bard himself fell in love by how personal the stories sound. 

One thing’s for certain, Venti will remain ever-present in your life, no matter what measures you take. Mondstadt and beyond, the winds will always bring you back to him. He’s more than happy to remind you of this with a thrilled tone. That it’ll be far less painful should you cave to his whims. 

[witch-hazels-musings]

🌸 Ask box open WOOOOO, could I ask for Beidou, Diluc and others of your choice, with someone who is exceptionally gifted with animals, and loves nerding out about them🌸

zoology 

Warning -> SFW (Beidou - long hair mentioned) 

Character X GN Reader | anthology 

Includes: Beidou, Diluc, Ganyu

Beidou

She’s already so impressed with you - how could she not be considering how the two of you met

When she saw you fighting a group of smugglers on the docks of Liyue, your hands gripping onto the cages of the animals they were trying to take with them - not caring for your safety in the slightest and taking hit after hit in a desperate attempt to shield the animals inside 

At that moment, she became your shield - your barrier between the harsh reality of the world and promised to keep you safe 

That bright smile behind bruises and cuts as you watched the small creatures find their freedom once again was enough information for her to know what kind of person you were 

Now, every time she returned to Liyue, she was excited to see your face or the sanctuary you had built from the ground up -- you were a human she wished to see more of 

“Y/N? You in here?” She called out to you, her hand pushing past the beads which separated the outside from the in. Animals ran around her feet and, as carefully as she could, she stepped through them. 

“A!H! Beidou??” Your voice called out to her, a crash sounding somewhere in the distance and a small curse following right after. When she found you, the state of your hair - frazzled and half-hazardly placed on top of your head - the long coat you liked to wear pooling beneath your feet as you worked to pick up the items that had fallen, and the reassuring expression you gave to the startled animals around you made her head swim and mouth stretch. 

“Little friends, hold on. That was rather frightful, wasn’t it?” The tone you used was sweet and kind and she watched as a small fox stepped toward you before pressing its nose carefully against yours. “That’s right, see nothing to be worried about.” 

When you caught sight of her, the grin that plastered across your face reached all the way into your eyes. “Need some assistance?” Beidou asked, extending her hand out toward you. 

“I’ll always take some help from my favorite captain.” 

Beidou would often bring you lost or injured animals - it was like you had a knack for helping them recuperate and on the days when she was around to see you release them back into the wild, well the energy that radiated off of you was stronger than a swing of her claymore 

The knowledge that you had about them shocked her, enlightened her, and made her understood why they were so calm when near you -- to have that level of love and compassion for the creatures of the world meant your heart must be as pure as gold 

Ganyu 

Just like you, Ganyu has a high affinity to care for the creatures of this world. She has vowed to protect them just as much as you have, and her spirit feels kindred to your own -- like two wandering souls who found each other in a chaotic world 

It was after a ‘not so eventful’ sparring match with the adeptis Xiao that she found you - quickly, she made her way to offer you assistance and when she found you holding onto an injured animal with tears in your eyes … she wanted to know more, so much more about you 

The two of you raced off to get some aid, the small creatures shook the whole time in your arms, it scratched and bit at you - she could easily see the marks on your skin - but you continued to reassure it of its safety, never once did you react violently or alarmed at its behavior, and after some time it calmed down … it found a home with you and from that point on never left your side 

The apartment which you decorated in the themes of the animals which you took in, or who visited you on a regular day, felt more like home than anything she’d ever seen -- the open windows, the coming and going of beings whose freedom was all their own, and the space you created for them was everything to her kind heart

The items in her hands were getting heavy, but she continued her way over the bridge knowing that the strain would soon be alleviated. The walk to your home was long, but not challenging and soon she found herself strutting down the path only to find you standing outside in the sunlight. 

You were sitting on a small bench, one that you’d find tossed out by some store owner and had worked hard to bring home. Birds flocked to you, some resting on your head, others bouncing around your feet or over your thighs. They were eagerly eating up the crumbs of food that fell to the ground in even intervals. 

“You must have flown so far to reach me.” The way your voice sounded brought comfort to all who heard it. A kind finger brushed against the chest of a bird who had settled onto your shoulder and when you pulled away it preened its feathers and made a soft chirping sound. 

The birds took flight as Ganyu approached, their upset screams sounding as they settled onto the roof of your home. “Pleasant greetings.” Ganyu bowed, her head dipping slightly before returning to its normal place. 

“Hiya!” You leaped from your spot and made your way toward her with unbound energy. “I didn’t expect you.” 

“I uh - I brought you some things from the market.” 

“Oh wow! How generous, thank you.” You reached for the extended back and let the straps rest over your arm. “Are you busy?” 

“N-no, I have the day ---!” With gusto, you grabbed her hand and lead her toward the house. When you looked back at her it was like looking into the brightest star and Ganyu wondered how she got so lucky to have met you on that fateful day. 

She learned much from you - like an endless wealth of knowledge you shared with her fact after fact and no matter how unique the animal, you still knew so much about it 

There were many days where the two of you would just sit out on your porch and chat about the world outside 

Nature and all its creations were so fascinating to you that it seemed you had lived much longer than one lifetime 

Diluc 

It's not that he … hated animals it was more that they never seemed to get along well with him. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so well-liked by the creatures that seemed to despise his very existence 

“Just … If you’d only just leave, then we both wouldn’t be in this situation.” He called to the stray cat that had lodged itself in the corner of his bar. How it managed to get onto the upper shelves he would never understand, all that he knew was it wasn’t proper to have a cat as a patron. 

He reached up to grab it but pulled his hands away when it hissed violently at him. “I can handle abyss mages, drunkards, and all manner of situations … yet it seems I am bested by a simple cat.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he contemplated his next steps. 

There was a ringing at the front entrance and he turned toward the sound only to catch sight of you illuminated by the sunlight. “Hey there.” You smiled at him but he was much too irritated to return the gesture. “Your face is .. worse than normal.” 

“I have a problem I cannot solve.” 

“What is it?” You settled into the barstool, your arms crossing about your chest as you eyed him curiously. 

“There is an unwanted guest here today, I and cannot get them to leave.” Your expression turned to confusion until you tracked the pointed finger to the corner of the bar. 

“OH! A kitty!” Exclaiming, you immediately ran around to his side, not caring in the slightest of the sign that said ‘employee’s only.’ Grabbing the stool under the counter, you carefully stepped your way onto it and extended your hand to the trembling little one. 

“Be careful, it’s quite viole --” In a matter of seconds, the cat had leaped into your arms and was softly purring away. Its face was in utter bliss as you gave it scratches under its chin. Diluc was stunned, nearly gobsmacked at the quickness of its trust toward you. 

“Animals just like me.” 

“So it would seem …” 

There are people in this world that have an unnatural ability to create trust in seconds and you were one of them -- something about the aura you gave off, the energy that spilled from every fiber of your being told those around you there was no need to be distrustful of you -- and Diluc learned that early on 

Not only were you able to tame the animals around you, but you tamed his unsteady heart --- he felt … comfortable, more like himself when you were around and was often drawn to your side when he didn’t expect it 

The only problem was that you also drew animals to you - and most of them were quite protective of the space at your side, if he wanted to stay there, he was going to have to learn to relax a bit 

Though it’s quite fun so see how tense he gets when they land on him … at least he always had you and his trust hawk to keep him company (if he could manage those relationships, he could manage a few more) 

--

tag list: 

@star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @pepperoncinipizza @handswritteeen @lucifucker @beelsdessert @odafashioned @coolcats09 @ninqat @musekala @sufzku @mooshymello  @heavenlyang @plenilunegazes @glazelilyy @justyoureverydayqueer @idunkar @solowmomo @twokissesforamelia @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @fuwon @goat-mama-breezie @angelmelt @lucacandy @shesleire @mariana @zentoruu @smol-knife @nightlywallows @aoirohi @nitorious-ghost @mguerra11 @maiiikoo @actstfbla @youaskedfurret @nonniechan @evolcahra @tempehlust @zenith-impact @plumpkie @jaggedsi @salty-salty @onlyhereforinteractivestories @gultonluvv @shy-specter @liebestraumss @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @anatthesavage

[sopxhiea]

Rules

Alfie Solomons X Friends with Benefits!Reader

Summary: The chase continues under the disguise of being friends who occasionally help each other out, but Alfie gets tired even though she doesn’t stop running.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Blood

“You need help with that?”

“Is there some secret to winning you?”

The curtains are closed today.

The inside of the venue is booming with loud music, almost to a point of being obnoxious but it’s easy to tune it out at this point. The inside is crowded, there are more men in the club than there had been in a while. Mostly high end men, to note, since they all seem dapper and rich in their newly tailored suits.

The girls prance around in their new costumes, a dress but mostly in lace. The color matches the wooden interior, a hint that was done to draw in the rich more than anything. Some of the newer girls do the chatting, since that’s easier and the more experienced ones handle the dancing, touchier ways of dealing with rich lads.

And that includes you.

It’s been a while since you’ve worked this late. Not to mention you always work late, but late as in after the sunrise. The club opens later in the day to begin with but today’s busy to a point of keeping you later than usual, not that you complain with the hundredth tip of today in your hand as you walk towards the back part.

The room’s decorated with a bunch of mirrors and too much light compared to the where the men are being entertained. There are a couple girls sitting on their stools, touching up their make up or getting ready to leave as you’re about to do. After settling on the stool, you pack your bag and start taking your make up off but just as you’re about to do just that, the head of the club comes in with a scared look.

His name is Jack, a proper man with a talent in dabbling in bad side of entertainment. He hasn’t been unkind to you but not particularly kind either. You think he’s alright in general, but not when he looks like a ghost as he does now. You know men like him and they aren’t easily scared of anything, so when he comes in with a broken voice and pale lips, it makes you stop your movements and wait for him to speak.

“There’s someone here to see you, Y/N.” he says and you know better than to ask who it is. You already have a pretty good idea anyway so you put on a robe and seal it tightly around your body before shaking your head.

“Out on the back.” Jack speaks and you nod, you know he’s not coming with you from the way his eyes roam around the room.

The back exit is through a dingy corridor, with not so bad lighting and a couple other girls smoking in the hall. You murmur small greetings with a faint smile as you pass by and open the door to the exit. The weather is colder than you thought, also due to the early hour of the morning.

And there he stands, covered in an ungodly amount of blood.

His breathing is uneven, there is a cut on his upper lip and left eyebrow but his stance is not tilted, just slightly lower than usual. He waits as you take it all in, with the blood covering his once crispy white button up but the blood is vicious. You can see the lines of his black coat soaked in it as some of it drip down his left hand to the pavement.

Nothing about it surprises you.

You know what kind of a person he is, the work that he does is anything but safe so you don’t expect him to show up with flowers every time he drops by. Your eyes meet his once more after you’ve scanned his entire figure and there’s the ghost of a smile on your lips when you speak which comes as a surprise to him, but a pleasant one regardless.

“You need help with that?” you ask and he can hear the amusement in your voice.

Because there he is, knocking on your door again and rather than turning him down, you can’t help but try and stitch him back together.

You know he’s not about to faint on you or die, you can make out from the way his breathing evens out. Sure, he’s probably been shot or stabbed but he’s a tough brute, you know not to doubt his capacity to handle pain. It’s clear that the blood that is currently soaking his coat isn’t his but someone else’s. 

But all is fair in love and war, so you decide his wars have been picked.

Although it is not love, and you’ll make sure of that.

He scoffs at first, the first rays of sun finding their way through the street into the back exit as you stand. You don’t wait for him to answer before you motion him to sit in front of the exit where there are a couple benches and pull him by the coat when he doesn’t move. For all his might and power, he is spent as he moves towards you as you pull him.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Alfie.” you whisper as he sits down and you ask one of the girls to bring you alcohol and the first aid kit.

And much to your surprise, he doesn’t.

He’s a stubborn lad, someone who will do what they think is right even though they know they’re wrong but Alfie doesn’t even make a noise as you crouch in front of him. He sees the glint of tiredness, mixed in with a thin layer of sweat and make up as your skin under the streetlight glistens. His eye twitches every now and then due to the pain he’s experiencing but that is about it as you clean him up.

He needs three stitches, one on his left bicep, one on his left side and one more on his cheek. You figure they’ll heal up well, even though he’s told you that he doesn’t heal as fast while he talked about his younger days. 

He’s still at times like this.

But it’s like how a stallion would be still. He’s never calm, you know this from the way his anger latches on to anything in close proximity. He might get offensive at any given moment as he’s a beast among men, knows it too and that’s the most dangerous part but it doesn’t scare you. He’s just a man after all.

His breathing evens out as you work through the last stich. His eyes are glued to yours as you clean the cut on his eyebrow. The blue orbs don’t leave yours as you make sure your eyes don’t meet his, you don’t need this today. Not at this hour and especially not during work. He watches as you lick your lips and dab the last bit of alcohol on the cut before putting everything away and getting up.

The robe you had on is slightly covered in blood now, not his but someone else’s. He sees no bother on your face, no remorse as you stand up in front of him and get ready to walk back inside. He knows he broke the rules, your rules, and sees the slight annoyance on your face but it’s mixed with something else. Almost overcome by it.

Dare he say, you look worried.

He knows you’ll be the last to admit to it, since you’re even more stubborn than he is, but he likes seeing your delicate features a bit etched than usual. And all because of him. 

He’s a right bastard.

“Thank ya’, lass.” he says as you stand in front of his seated form. He’s not as pale as he was when he first arrived and it makes you sigh inside.

You nod and speak, voice stale.

“No problem. Just don’t bleed out somewhere in an alley.” you say and his eyebrows raise.

You’re being considerate and it makes him feel like he’s been punched.

He then pulls you closer by the sleeve of your robe so your knees are touching his seated ones. He’s almost as tall as your standing form, that’s how big the size difference is but it doesn’t faze you. You feel his breath tickling your face as you look down on his seated form. His hand is on your wrist while the other remains on his thigh and he speaks, almost in a hush.

“Ya’ worried about old me?” he asks, a glint of amusement mixed with affection is thrown your way and it makes you smile. Almost.

“Well, I’d like my landlord to be alive.” you say, reminding him about how he had gotten you the place.

He hums then, nodding as he looks up at your standing form as small strands of hair frame your face. It’s almost sunrise and he feels fucking hopeless underneath your gaze, like he’s a teenager again. “That right?”

“Hm.” you nod and speak once more, hand now resting on his thigh and the other on his shoulder as you talk with a softer tone than usual. “He’s a grumpy old man but he’s alright.” you say and it earns a laugh from him.

And it’s not the usual laugh either.

When Alfie laughs, it’s usually at some stupid joke the blokes working with or for him have made a dumb fucking mistake. It’s mocking, degrading in some occasions to make sure the other person knows who’s in charge. It’s rarely because he’s found something funny, seeing as there’s very little humor in his life.

But this time, he really laughs.

You smile at the sound and the vibrations almost make you want to pull him in an embrace but you know where you stand. You hear the commotion from the inside as the girls get ready to leave, as you were about to do before he showed up and realize that it’s much later than usual. You sigh and pull away from him while speaking slowly, tiredness getting the best of you.

It catches him off guard, makes him feel much younger than he is.

“Take me home, Alfie.” you speak and hear an answer right away.

“As you wish, ma’am.”

He is a right bastard.

---

His breathing gets faster by the passing second.

It’s been a while since you’ve been like this with him but it seems as though he’s missed you more than you’ve missed him. The bed creaks each time he moves, sharp groans spill from his mouth and you revel at the sight. His hair is messy in a way that you don’t associate with him, bruises from the fight earlier still on his skin as he moves on top of you.

He’s less aggressive, though. You make a note of it.

A curt thrust brings your attention to the present moment as he moves, at a slower pace now. Like he’s trying to thoroughly enjoy the split moment of you almost adoring him. You smile at him then, it’s a faint one but he catches it as it turns into a small moan at the end. His hips rock at the same, slow pace as he watches the sunrays illuminate your face and hair.

Your eyes close, slowly and your small mewls fill the room along with his grunts here and there. He wants to bask in the glory of the woman laying in front of him. He hears your moans become louder as he moves slightly faster. He takes a moment before fully speeding up, hand gripping the headboard as the mattress moves slightly with each stroke.

Your voice comes out low, like a plea you’re afraid to put out but he hears it. “Slower.”

His eyebrows furrow at that, knowing your climax was near. But he listens, unlike most men, he takes his pace down and kisses you feverishly this time and speaks against your lips. It’s a low murmur when he does, goes back to kissing you once he’s spoken between all teeth and tongue.

“What’s wrong?” he says before kissing you again and you just groan at first, pleased with the pace he’s set even though you know both of you are close.

Your words are muffled against his lips but you speak regardless.

“Just go slow, please.” you speak and it makes him halt for a second.

Because it’s far too gentle.

For a man who works exclusively with dangerous people, the existence of the word ‘please’ sometimes escapes him so acts if kindness makes him slow down on its own. It makes him feel hopeless inside, to know you have graced him with some kindness despite the cruel acts you know he is capable of.

“Alright, lass.” he speaks against your collarbone and kisses his way down until you feel him reach over to connect your lips with his in a kiss.

And you’re right. He reaches his climax right after you do with a low moan, filled with curses you’re sure would make anyone red-faced but you lie still under him, panting with a smile on at the words. He stays like that for a while, kissing your neck and cheeks before he lies down next to you and his eyes are on you again.

Like damn clock-work.

It’s like a ritual of sorts for him. After you’re both done panting and moaning and he’s laying down next to you on the bed, he watches you. You don’t do anything spectacular, just try to catch your breath and sometimes even fall asleep but his gaze doesn’t leave you, not that it bothers you.

Just makes you curious.

You see the glimpses of the man he used to be: young, naughty for sure and maybe a little shy. His beard covers up the blush that rarely graces his cheeks but you see it in his eyes, the giddy man he becomes every now and then. He’s gentle with you, you’re not complaining but merely curious of how he used to be before the cruel ways of world got to him.

“You’re staring again.” you state and he chuckles lowly at that. He’s aware of the fact that it doesn’t bother you.

“Any complaints?” he asks and you can hear the sarcasm dripping from his words.

It makes you wanna punch him.

Because he knows that very little of what he does actually annoys you, yet you act like everything he does is a menace. You won’t admit to it, but you’re fond of him in certain ways that keep you up at night.

“It’s not smart to ask questions when you already know the answer.” you speak and he laughs this time, which makes you look at him with a smile.

He looks happy. Unbothered, like this.

“Smart lass.” he says under his breath as he faces the ceiling and then his eyes are on you again.

He realizes this is where you two always end up.

Doesn’t matter of he’s coming your way with bloody fists or if he’s in your house alone, waiting for you at sunrise and you arrive with bags under your eyes. Your bed seems to be the place where things stand still and it’s only you and him. Not when you’re fucking either, although he’s very much a fan of that part as well. It’s when you lie down next to him that he feels the weight of the world lift from his shoulders and he’s a simple man again.

Not Mr. Solomons but Alfie.

And he knows this is doomed from the start. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You won’t quit, he certainly can’t and it makes the entire ordeal confusing. He reckons he’ll never have you, you’ll never be his but he can settle on being around you. Or so he thinks.

“Is there some secret to winning you?” he whispers at a low tone.

You stare at the ceiling for a minute and make sure you heard him correctly. It wouldn’t matter if there was a secret, you think to yourself before smiling and turning to face him on the bed. There is no smile on his face, just serious questioning.

“Probably not.” you say, unaware of just why he’s asking but you don’t dare question him further when he’s looking at you the way he is.

“Fuckin’ probably eh?” he says once more and it makes your eyebrows furrow.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure.” you say and hold yourself up on the bed by your elbows. Hair messy and eyes wide, you face him and speak once more. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

He chuckles and then watches you roll out of bed. Your hair is messy from earlier, no matter how many times you try to straighten it down with your hairs. You pick up the robe from the nightstand and shoot him a smile before disappearing into the kitchen to make coffee.

He shakes his head when you ask if he’d like some, hair framing your face. Time is somewhere around six and he’s supposed to head to work, make sure the lads are in place and so are the orders but he finds himself in the kitchen next to you, watching as you make yourself some coffee for the day and look to see he’s already staring.

He likes puzzles, is fond of complex things and enjoys threatening people on occasion. He’s smart, has to be when he’s doing what he does. He prides himself on always having the upper hand but maybe not with you. He takes one look at you then, yeah, definitely not with you.

He decides he likes a challenge, and you’ve provided him with a good one.

---

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog​ @babylooneytoonz​ @peakascum @fuseburner​ @ttzamara​ @babaohhhriley​ @fairypitou​  @paintballkid711​ @manamajil  @tommydoesntpayforsuits​ 

A/n: Hello! I hope you enjoyed yet another chapter of this. We’re getting close to the end!! Let me know what you thought. You can comment under the post if you’d like to be tagged <3

[obiwanobi]

I blame @quiet-oracle and @theevildevices for this, because I couldn’t resist the urge to write 2k of hurt/comfort for the ‘Jedi but enemies’ AU, where Qui-Gon trained Anakin, and now him and Obi-Wan are well-known for despising each other but working exceptionally well together when they’re not lost in ridiculous banters and petty arguments to hide the fact that they’ll be lost without each other;

Obi-Wan winces.

Skywalker’s hand immediately withdraws. “Does it bother you when I—”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“The answer is still the same.” 

Skywalker’s sigh is heavier than the entire Republic navy.

His mouth is too close to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he shivers as a result. But it’s only because the cold of the never-ending rain outside still lingers on their clothes and in their bones, even under the tent and close to the portable heater that a clone is still trying to adjust. And also because he’s been sitting there bare-chested for the past five minutes, with Skywalker’s clumsy fingers poking at his hip and ribs, probably way harder than necessary, just to see him suffer. 

“I can apply a bacta patch myself, you can go n—”

“Would you please shut up? We both know a bacta patch wouldn’t be enough.” 

Only the sound of a packet of antiseptic wipes being opened, gauze being stretched and the clone pushing buttons with no effect can be heard for a moment. 

 “I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me before,” Obi-Wan notes lightly, then grimaces when Skywalker starts pulling on the cloth pressed to his side.

“Don’t get used to it. But if it’s the only way to make you stop being so difficult and contradictory all the time, I will gladly say it more.”

Instead of looking at his own wound —the pain in his hip is enough, thank you, he doesn't need to see the extent of the damages— Obi-Wan glances at Skywalker. Gaze focused and mouth in a thin line, there’s only concentration written on his face. 

No one could guess that only half an hour ago, on the battlefield, panic and terror were the only two emotions Skywalker was projecting loud enough in the Force to bring Obi-Wan out of unconsciousness.

Unbelievable, Obi-Wan has thought once he was aware enough to realise that it was Skywalker's hands on his face and Skywalker’s voice in his ear, begging him to come back. He would find a way to be annoying enough to drag me out of a coma if he could. 

Surprisingly, the thought has felt like a comfort. 

The clone working on the heater stands up suddenly. Obi-Wan almost forgot about him. He nods his head towards them, and goes out of the tent at the exact same moment Hyoid enters.

At the sight of the clone, all modicum of appreciation for Skywalker evaporate. 

“You called a medic?” Obi-Wan scowls, with the tone of someone who has just been the victim of a vicious mutiny. 

“Of course I called a medic. Half of your tunic is covered in your own blood and you were knocked out for a while earlier, what do you think I was going to do? Tell you to go back out there and watch you slowly bleed to death?”

“Generals,” the medic calls. In vain.

“You would enjoy that,” Obi-Wan grumbles.  

“Well, yes, but then the Council will ask me why I let you die just a few meters away from a first aid kit, and then I’ll have to explain that I gently push it away from your weak hands every time you reached for it, and how will I look, then?”

“Like someone who could have let me die on the battlefield and get away with it, but decided instead to choose the most idiotic and time-consuming option available, and I would have enjoyed that very much.” 

“Generals.” 

“Exactly,” Skywalker nods, “and I can’t let you enjoy things.”

“I know. Don’t think I never realised who was flushing the toilets every time I was in the shower when the hot water came back two days ago.”

“You were so cheerful,” Skywalker says, as if the mere thought disgusts him. “I took that as a personal affront.”

“Sirs, please,” Hyoid implores louder. Both Jedi turn towards him, almost surprised to see him there. “I’m just here to see General Kenobi’s injury, I’m sure you can continue your conversation right after. Sirs. Please.” 

It takes them a second to realise that they’re sitting so close together that Obi-Wan’s hand has settled on Skywalker’s knee when they weren’t paying attention, while Skywalker’s fingers are still maintaining Obi-Wan’s pants low on his hip so it won’t come in contact with the long gash on his side. The intimacy of the scene isn’t completely lost on Skywalker, it seems, because he rushes to take his hands away and stands next to his chair, suddenly too self-conscious to know what to do with himself. 

“I’m very sorry about him,” Obi-Wan apologises, as the medic takes Skywalker’s seat and starts assessing the mess Skywalker undoubtedly made of his hip and ribs. “He’s a rescue. He still has no idea how to behave appropriately in polite society.”

An outraged noise comes from Skywalker behind him, and despite the throbbing pain, Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up. A hiss replaces his smile rapidly enough when Hyoid applies a spray and starts cleaning what Skywalker missed, before pressing stingy patches on the wound. 

The medic is wise enough not to reply to him, but it doesn’t stop him from making a comment or two about how ‘this isn’t superficial sir, you should be more careful from now on,’ or ‘you’ll have to change the bandages, and I’ll get some pills for you to take’ and ‘ok, now let’s see your head, sir, don’t think General Skywalker didn’t mention it’.

His head is, indeed, becoming heavier by the minute, and he can feel himself growing too tired to care enough to listen carefully after that. Once he gives up answering questions and lets Skywalker do it for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to concentrate to feel him poking obnoxiously at him in the Force, testing the limits of his consciousness. It reminds him a bit of when Skywalker was a child, tugging on his robe every two minutes to make sure he was paying attention to him.

No wonder Obi-Wan always tried to avoid him.  

“All right,” the medic finally says, pulling him out of his reverie. He stands up, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll get you your pills, and then you should rest.”

Rest sounds amazing. Obi-Wan would kill Skywalker for a good mattress and a soft pillow right now. But it doesn’t mean anything; he would probably kill Skywalker for two minutes of peace on the best of days. 

The sudden silence that falls under the tent once Hyoid is gone seems almost unnatural. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside unsettles him so much, until he realises that it’s the first time since the battlefield that he’s alone with Skywalker. 

“Are you going to keep sulking behind me?” Obi-Wan asks, finding his robe discarded on the floor and wondering if it’s worth leaning down to get it. No reply comes. “Well, you heard the medic. You can go now. I, unfortunately for you, will still live to see another...” he trails off as two arms slide over his shoulders from behind, wrapping around his neck and resting there. 

Skywalker is warm against him.

For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he’s finally going to strangle him, but a golden head falls on his shoulder gently, face hidden by a cascade of curls, tickling Obi-Wan's neck and collarbone. 

“Skyw—”

“Don’t be an insufferable asshole for a minute,” Skywalker mumbles, breath hot against his bare skin. “Just let me have this.” 

Ah. It’s one of those moments, then. 

He thought they were done with that for the day after what happened on the battlefield. Earlier.

With Skywalker’s face looming over him. Eyes so wide and so blue. One hand pressed against the wound in his side to stop the bleeding, one hand twisted in Obi-Wan’s tunic, right above his heart. 

Being the one injured and barely conscious, but also being the one calming Skywalker down. Managing to get him to release his death-grip on him. Assuring him that he wasn’t going to die.

Promising it. 

Twice.

Soothing the Hero with No Fear as he would soothe a lost and abandoned child.

“I told you already,” Obi-Wan says quietly. It feels wrong to speak louder when he knows they won’t look at each other for some time after that. “It’s all right. I’m fine now. It’s over.”

The arms around him tighten, mirroring the weight of Skywalker’s presence in the Force around Obi-Wan. 

“I thought you’d left me,” Skywalker says accusingly, sounding remarkably like his nine-year-old self. “I thought you’d left me behind again.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if not seeing it would erase the fact he’s indulging his instinct to nuzzle his face against Skywalker’s hair. He smells like the rain, muddy but fresh, and feels like lingering distress in the Force. It’s far from pleasant to remain close to such an unbalanced mind, and their position isn’t comfortable either. But Obi-Wan doesn’t shiver from the cold anymore. So they don’t move.

They’ve earned that second of weakness.

Obi-Wan’s hand comes up to scratch at Skywalker’s head gently, fingers tangling with unruly locks of hair. Slowly, his muscles relax and he leans into the touch, chest slumped against Obi-Wan’s back. Skywalker’s face turns towards his throat, nestled under his jaw, before exhaling, deep and warm. In the Force, Skywalker’s signature curls against Obi-Wan’s and quiets down to a low satisfied rumble, dragged away from dread and terror one caress at a time.

Obi-Wan’s mind is suddenly way too tired to be bothered by the tenderness of it all.

“I’m here now, with you,” he whispers in his hair. “That’s all that matters.”

It’s a quiet apology that Skywalker accepts with a satisfied humming noise that resonates in Obi-Wan’s whole body.

It feels a bit like an apology for more. For everything. For all the times he avoided and pushed him away as a child. For condemning him for reasons he didn’t want to admit to himself. For wanting to blame him, for taking his master away, for being such a better padawan than he was, for rubbing it in his face.

For wanting to be his friend, always. 

Obi-Wan has been wrong for so long.

When the medic comes back, Skywalker is kneeling in front of the heater, cursing it quietly, and Obi-Wan is adjusting his robe around his shoulders with slow movements. 

“All right, sir, this is what you’ll have to take before every meal,” Hyoid says, showing him a small bottle, before putting a white box on the table. “And these are the bandages and the bacta to change every day. I would advise you not to do it yourself, and if you don’t have anyone to—“

“I’ll do it,” Skywalker declares without looking up, and Obi-Wan immediately narrows his eyes.

“You? I can’t even trust you with my toothpaste tube, what makes you think—“

“I don’t care what you say Kenobi, there is no wrong way to squeeze toothpaste!”

“There is, and you do it on purpose. What kind of savage would squeeze it right in the middle—”

Skywalker suddenly turns towards Hyoid, talking over him. “How many pills would it take to be considered a lethal dose, do you think?” 

It is, of course, the one comment that ignites a virulent and pointless argument that makes the poor medic reconsider all his life choices and wonder if chloroforming Jedi generals would get him court-martialed.

After seven minutes of a loud and dramatic dispute ending with Skywalker promising to never take part in anything related to Kenobi anymore, except maybe his funeral, Hyoid decides to risk it.

[amberwritesstuffs]

A touch of fire.

Summary: You have the power to control fire, you get an invite to join the Avengers; but what happens when they know the truth about you and your past?

Warnings: Little angst!/Mentions of death/Mentions of suicide.

Word count: 6k

Blurry.

That’s all you see. The trees passing by at a relatively fast speed before you… Or are you passing them? Are they running, afraid of you or are you the one that’s moving?

You try to focus yourself a little because all is extremely blurry and confusing.

“Y/N?” A voice asks and you do your best to just focus on where the voice is coming from.

“The tranquilizer must have been stronger than we thought” he says.

A tranquilizer. Right. You remember vaguely now.

The man sitting in front of you of the limousine is now your boss, Nick Fury, you can see his brow furrowed at you, concerned.

“Y/N? Can you tell me how you feel?”

You try and nod. “Everything is blurry… Where am I?” You tried to ask where they were taking you but couldn’t focus enough to say it.

“We are on the road… We should arrive maybe in half an hour” Fury says. Arrive… Where? “Y/N sleep a little… I’ll call Dr. Cho to tell her the tranquilizer was too powerful to you, she should change it immediately, so you don’t have any problems, alright?”

You nod, not exactly registering his words, so you focus on the trees moving outside, when your eyes give in.

You wake up in a room you’ve never seen before, it’s bright and the light is too much for your eyes, but you try to keep them open. Scanning the room, you realize your boss is there.

“Well, soldier I thought you’d never wake up!” he says smiling, you smile too, even though you are a little confused, mind still a little hazy.

“Where am I?” you ask sitting up.

“At the Avengers compound. Do you remember something?” he says carefully.

Remember… Ah, yes. You remember being on a medical bed, Dr. Cho telling you something about a new drug she created that was supposed to keep you relaxed so your emotions couldn’t go crazy, and your powers exploded.

“Yes, that’s exactly it. You remember why you need said drug?” Fury keeps interrogating, concern written all over his face.

“Not really…?”

“Well, it was the deal the government proposed when I got you out of their prison to bring you here.” Here… That’s where it clicks, you are on the Avengers compound, Fury said they needed to bring you here so you could train your powers and (as the government said) ‘not be a threat’.

You start to panic, your emotions getting the best of you as you start feeling fear and guilt all over again. They think you are dangerous, and you actually know you are, but it’s not what you want, you don’t want to be dangerous, you never wanted any of that to happen.

“Y/N I need you calm down, everything is going to be alright, you are safe now, I need you to focus on me and breathe or I am going to have to sedate you again” Fury says approaching you with his hands on either side of your face as he makes you look at him. When you do, you see concern and understanding on his features, so you try to do as he said. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

You open your eyes relaxing as the panic starts to flow away. Fury smiles at you proudly. “That’s it… Now… We need to go, they are waiting patiently for us but are dying to meet you.”

--

Maybe an hour later you are walking out of the meeting room following Fury being a nervous ball. He introduced you to all of the Avengers, having you stand by his side before the large table where everyone was reunited. Eyes scanning you did nothing for your nervousness so you just ducked your head and played with your sleeves, not really listening to what Fury was saying next to you.

You know he filled them in with general information about you but reserved the details like you asked him to. They know your powers appeared a year ago, there was an accident where your powers got out of control and there were casualties, the government captured you and you spent months on a maximum-security facility where they used a collar to suppress your powers. He didn’t talk about the worst parts, just that he was informed months later about you and he fought for your release until he made a deal that state you had to control your powers and in the meantime you had to take a sedative drug to prevent more accidents. Or that they experimented on you trying to know where your powers came from. Or that you almost gave yourself to the pain and was about to give up on life. He talked to you and gave you hope again.

“We hope we can make you feel welcome, if you need anything just ask.” Captain America, or as he said: Steve, told you as you soon as you were outside the room.

“We don’t want you feeling any pressure, we are all family here, and we are happy to have another member”, the famous Tony Stark smiled to you.

“Thank you” you said, feeling a little less nervous, knowing that they were trying to make your stay pleasant.

“Fury told us about you a few days ago, and we tried to accommodate your room, but you can always tell us if you want something changed; what about if we show it to you so you can relax and set in?” Tony spoke again, and his tone was like he was talking to a son, and you felt warm inside. You smiled and nodded.

“I can take her there.” A feminine voice said.

Holy shit. Wanda fucking Maximoff was volunteering to show you the place. You felt your cheeks heat up.

Of course you knew who the Avengers were. You remember watching the news and seeing them save the day, even on Instagram and Twitter you would see videos of people experiencing up close the battle.

But out of all of them, Wanda Maximoff always stood up at your eye. You knew she was relatively new and she lost her brother some time ago. But since, you’ve been seeing her everywhere saving the day. Not mentioning you found her terriblybeautiful and hot. You would fantasize about meeting her but now there she was, standing in front of you, a warming smile on her lips and her green piercing eyes watching you with kindness.

You did nothing but nod with a new renewed nervousness to have your celebrity crush smiling you like that. Her face lit up with excitement and she offered a hand for you to take it. You felt a blush creeping up your neck as you took her hand and let her guide you around the compound. You smiled and said a thank you to the people that were talking to you before Wanda dragged you through the corridors.

--

You almost gasped as you took in the room that was supposed to be yours. It was big, and modern, and it had everything you needed and more.

“So… You like it?” Wanda smiled shyly to you, with her hands behind her back and an amused smile on her lips.

You could only nod, mouth open in amazement. The bed was bigger than you ever had and you almost felt like crying since this was the first time in… A lot of time… You were going to sleep on an actual bed. The past months being on jail and barely sleeping on the bunk that was nothing but super uncomfortable. You sat down on the bed, feeling the softness and warmth of it as your fingers traced it. “It’s so soft and warm…” You echoed your thoughts.

Wanda stopped smiling slightly, hearing what you said. “Yes… That is your bed… You like it?” She chewed on her lower lip, remembering what Fury said about you being on a maximum-security facility, and feeling the need to read your thoughts as they were really loud, but she knew better, before she would’ve, but now she was better.

“Yeah… It’s not cold and uncomfortable…” She looked at you, sadness written all over her face, you being so deep in thought and overwhelmed with emotions. But this time was different, there were good emotions.

Wanda moved and knelt before you, taking your hands on hers. “Everything will be fine from now on.” She said staring right into your eyes that took your breath for a moment. “You are safe here and we are going to protect you and care for you… I really hope you can see us as a family, because right now we are accepting you.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and the only thing you could do was nod as you felt warmth on your hands, but it was way different from the warmth you were used to feel.

“I’ll let you settle in, alright? It will be almost dinner time and we would love to have you there, what’d you say?” You nodded again, and Wanda smiled with amusement at your loss of words. “If you need anything, I’m in the room beside you. The one in front is Natasha’s, and the one beside hers it’s empty, we kinda separate from the boys for our commodity.” She explained and felt a little relieved to know there were only women around you.

But you felt hella intimidated too.

Natasha fucking Romanoff and Wanda fucking Maximoff were your neighbors. This was both intimidating and awesome.

Wanda left your room with a shy “See you later” and you fell completely on the bed, feeling overwhelmed again but in a good way now.

After thinking about it, you went to take a shower and change your clothes, and right after you fell asleep almost instantly. Someone knocked on your door and you stirred awake.

“Come in”. Wanda peeked her head into your room, smiling.

“Hi, Y/N, can we come in?” You furrowed your brows, we? You nodded, standing up, just as two women entered your room, and your eyes widened.

Natasha Romanoff was standing right next to Wanda, a friendly smile on her lips.

“Hi, Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you and Wanda after the meeting, I had to make some paperwork for Fury. I’m Natasha” She held out a hand, and you took it, starstruck by both women.

Both women giggled when you said nothing, and you cleared your throat. “Hi, I’m Y/N” you blurted out awkwardly and they giggled a little again.

“So, dinner is almost ready, you hungry?” Wanda said, feeling joyful.

“Yeah, I am…” You said quietly but smiling. Wanda offered her hand again and you took it as Natasha guided you with her hand on the small of your back.

Normally this would be scary. Holding hands with someone for more than a second, or the proximity both women offered you would just give you anxiety. But this time was different, they seemed to not fear you, instead, they had kind eyes and warming smiles that just made you feel safe even when you knew them for a few hours.

--

Dinner was quite something, everyone joking and laughing as someone was telling some story, or Sam just said something funny mostly towards Bucky, as he was the loudest and Bucky the quieter. It felt like home, and you were grateful for it as you missed the feeling. No one asked you intrusive questions, nor pushed you to talk, they sensed you were feeling shy and instead, tried to make the environment more welcoming for you.

After it, you head up to your room with Natasha and Wanda beside you, talking about nothing.

“So” Nat begun “Tomorrow we start with your training, please be ready at 8 am, yes?”

“Yes” you said, a little more confident to speak this time. The women smiled at you and were parting to their rooms when you felt the need to talk. They’ve been so sweet and caring for you, and you only got out a few words towards them. “Um…” You began, not sure of what to say, both stopped and looked at you carefully. “Thank you… For, uh, for everything you did for me today… It’s a little overwhelming… But I’ll try my best.” You were looking down and playing with your sleeves all time, until Wanda used her hand to lift your chin so you could watch her.

“I know it’s overwhelming, no one is going to push you, you are safe here.” Natasha agreed putting her hand on your shoulder. You nodded, feeling loss at words again. They smiled again and said their good nights before disappearing into their rooms, you did the same, feeling relaxed and at peace for the first time in a long time.

--

You almost overslept, the bed was comfier that you thought and rested what you couldn’t in a long time but you were ready just in time when a knock came to your door.

“Y/N? Are you ready?” You heard Natasha’s voice on the other side. You opened the door and smiled, saying a “Yes, Nat”. She smiled at the nickname and motioned you to follow her. Before heading out, she knocked on Wanda’s door. “Wanda? Are you ready?” Wanda shouted an “Yeah, give me 2 seconds!” and short after she was stepping out with a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Tasha, Y/N” She greeted and both Natasha and you said the same. “Let’s go, it’s a big day today” Wanda seemed to be excited, but you could only feel nervous and anxious. This was going to be the first time they see your powers, and you could only think they were going to be scared and kick you after. Wanda, being the telepath she was, sensed your troubled mind and touched your arm kindly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” You said, not feeling sure. Wanda smiled cutely.

“Hey… Everything’s going to be okay, we are here to help you, okay?” You nodded.

When you arrived at the training area, Steve, Bruce and Tony were already there. They greeted everyone and Bruce addressed you.

“Fury told me to give you this, but he didn’t quite tell me why, he said you needed to explain.” You stomach made a turn and felt heavy as you took the vial you recognized as the tranquilizer Dr. Cho created for you. Everyone eyed you carefully, questioning looks on their faces but said nothing.

“They are… Tranquilizers… They are supposed to make me feel relaxed.” You said sadly. And the Avengers noticed it. Tony tried to lighten the mood.

“Banner, I think you could ask Fury for some of those, they would be quite handy.” Everyone laughed slightly at Bruce’s face that reflected confusion, indignation and irritability.

Steve talked. “Well, Y/N, show us what you can do” when he finished, everyone started to back off, you looked at Wanda and then Natasha, they had reassuring smiles on their faces, as if saying “You got this”.

You sighed, and the anxiety came back, you didn’t want anyone to be harmed, and when you used your powers, that happened. Wanda must have sensed your doubt, as she approached to you. “Y/N, everything is okay… You can do it.”

“I don’t want anyone to be harmed” you whispered. Wanda touched your arm reassuringly.

“No one is going to be hurt, I promise you, I won’t let it.” You finally looked at her eyes and almost gasped at the intensity they reflected. You don’t know why, but you knew you could trust her. It was maybe that she felt what you felt a lot time ago, when they accepted her as one of the Avengers, maybe she understood, that’s what made you give her the shots.

“Please… If you see something going out of control with me… Just take the shot, this should calm me instantly.” She took them and nodded. Then she smiled and you felt a little better.

She backed up again and you took the chance to do it.

You brought your arms before you and tensed your fingers, concentrating. Then it happened. A little flame came out of your fingers and quickly became a full fire floating around your hands. You closed your palms before the fire could spread and looked at the Avengers, scared of what they might think.

“Can you do something else? Like throw them? Fire balls or something?” Tony asked, genuinely concentrated.

“Yes… And I can throw fire from all of my body too, but hands are the easiest.” You responded, shyly.

“Can you-“

“Tony what the hell, she can’t throw fire here, it can be dangerous.” You flinched at Bruce’s words… He was scared… You thought they were different, but here, you could see it, he thought you were dangerous…

“No, she’s not” Wanda spoke above their voices. You jerked your face up to see her. She had an annoyed look on her face as she walked to you. You only watched her until she got in front of you, a decided look on her beautiful eyes. “I can help. Throw them to me” Your eyes widened.

“What-?”

“Trust me” She whispered. But you didn’t know. Throw them? To her? What- was she crazy? “Y/N, trust me, I have powers on my own.” She said teasingly and you nodded, still doubtful.

She backed up a little, being opposite to you, and got into position.

“It’s okay” She said, still sensing your doubts. “You can do it, throw them. I’m ready.”

You were still scared but prepared to do as she said. You tensed your fingers again and the fire grew, then you separated your hands so each hand had a fire ball. Then you threw it.

You regretted it the moment you did, what were you thinking? It’s fire, it’s dangerous, but it was too late now, the fire ball went directly to Wanda. But she then used her powers to create a barrier that suffocated the fire ball when reached to it. You were dumbfounded. She just extinguished it? She smiled at you. “Told you.” She said happily as her eyes drifted from red to green.

After that, it was settled that Wanda would train you, since she was the one that could take the hits safely.

--

You grew extremely close to Wanda. Natasha would see you train too, always being pending on what you needed. She assumed this motherly figure to you and you were really grateful for it. But for Wanda…

Both of you would train for hours and you grew more confident of your powers because of her. She figured out a way to teach you how to use your powers correctly, and how to control your body temperature, as when you used your powers, your hands would end up burnt, and Wanda bandaging you carefully taking extra care. You were getting better and better at not burning your own skin.

It was a matter of time for you to develop strong feelings towards the witch. You already had a sort of celebrity crush but getting to know her personally up close was a totally different story. It was with her that you learned about a new way your face would heat up as you spent most of the time blushing because of her, as if it was a compliment or Wanda’s laugh. You spent a lot of time together and did everything together; she was the cook for the team and quickly you became her assistant, the team would constantly tease you because every time you both cooked, you would linger on it playing around.

The time you realized you were in love with her was when you were making Bolognese pasta for dinner and you started to play around pretending to play an accordion like the “Lady and the Tramp” as you sang the most horrible way possible just to make her laugh. She quickly picked up as she laughed to sing along with you; her laugh, combined with her melodic voice, became your favorite sound on the whole world. Then, as the last part of the song came, you took a single noodle in your mouth and motioned her to take it, she blushed but took it as you progressively went closer, stopping only until you were inches away, you stayed like that for a few seconds until you pulled away coughing awkwardly trying to hide your blush, Wanda giggled and served a plate only to push a single meatloaf your way, you catch the reference and quickly feel your neck heat up as you giggle, staring lovingly at her eyes. You stayed like that a moment, both of you unable to tear your gazes apart until Nat came through the door asking for the food. Both of you coughed awkwardly before Wanda blurted out a “Yes, it’s ready”, as you took the plates to take them to the table, feeling all your face go red. Nat only watched as an amused smiled grew on her lips. Since that day you were certain that your feelings for the witch were bigger than you thought, and it confused you since you weren’t sure if she felt the same way or she was just being friendly.

Your friendship with the team grew progressively quick as you kept training. When the team saw more control over your powers they started training you in 1v1 combat too, telling you that you needed to know how to fight too. Natasha was the one to help you with that, and every time you fought with her, Wanda was close to check on you, earning a knowing look from Nat as she teased how you weren’t able to be alone anymore, normally you’d laugh to hide the blush covering your cheeks. Everything was going just fine, until Fury came one day.

He claimed you weren’t taking the tranquilizers and scolded you for that, because that was the part of the bargain. But you didn’t like taking them, they made your mind hazy and affected your life inside the compound, not being able to socialize or train properly with the team.

Your argument got heated (quite literally) as you felt your body get hotter. He feared you. You were dangerous on his eyes and that’s why you had to take the tranquilizers. He did not care about you getting better at controlling them. He feared you could go crazy again and murdered everyone.

You got out of the conference room and headed straight to the training room hopeful you could calm down on your own and not with the stupid drugs. That’s when Nat came in and saw you punching the punching bag with steam coming out of your hands. She tried to talk to you but you were blinded in so much pain.

You tried. And it wasn’t enough for him. Him… The person that got you out of the misery. Without him, you’d still be at the hands of the government or dead. But still, no matter how hard you tried. You. Still. Were. Not. Enough.

Nat tried to get your attention but all she did was to burn her hands as she tried to touch you. When she screamed, you finally registered her presence, when you saw what you did to her, you got scared. Not her, you didn’t want to hurt her. Any of them.

“Nat, I’m so sorry.” You said, panicked, she tried to smile but only came out as a crocked smile, still holding her hands, you tried to come closer to her and grab her hands to see the damage, and she allows it, only to scream again when your heated palms touched her wrists. You look down and see her wrists red, as the smell of burn flesh invades your senses. “I’m so sorry, Nat, please.”

She sees you with terrified eyes, and you try to approach only for her to back off, trembling in pain. She didn’t want to be scared of you, but the hurt was making her act out of pure instinct. When you saw the fear on Natasha’s eyes, you panicked, and then ran off to your room, not seeing how your feet were leaving little flames everywhere they touched.

When you got to your room, you nearly set up everything on fire, everything you touched got burnt at some level. You went on full panic attack mode, where you grabbed your head, feeling a burning sensation as your palms were still heated. You tried to concentrate but the guilt came back, making you hate yourself, as you tried to stop thinking. And the familiar feeling came. The one you felt back at the maximum-security facility. The guilt fueled at maximum level and your mind trying to take it out. You stopped to see your hands and after a few seconds, lit them on fire, just for you to start bringing them to your own head, it would be easier, to just stop feeling. It would just hurt for a while, then everything would be at peace.

Then you felt something, a pinch, and your mind became blurry as your powers shut down. Someone dragged you to the bathroom and placed you under the shower. You felt cold water as your body poured out steam as it went back to it’s normal temperature.

--

You wake up feeling your head hurt. And when you open your eyes, Wanda is right next to you, eyes teary and a sad smile on her face. You try to smile and ask what happened when you see a burn on her right cheek. It’s red, and even though it does not look as bad at what you did to Nat, you can still see the damage. You try and reach before stopping yourself and dropping your hand again, afraid to hurt her.

“You are okay. Don’t worry, you are okay.” She must have sensed you wanted to ask, so she answered. “I shot you the tranquilizer, then got you into the shower. We all heard Tasha’s screams and went to check on her, but everything is alright now. She is fine.” You saw something in her eyes and you knew there was something she wasn’t telling you. But before that, you pointed her check.

“Did I do that?” You asked, scared of it. When she nodded, you felt even worse than before. You didn’t want to hurt any of the team, but Wanda and Nat were the ones that had a place in your heart. But knowing you hurt Wanda… The girl you fell for, just added to the feeling you had earlier. However, your mind was still hazy from the tranquilizer, so your powers remained shut down. “How… How did I hurt you?” You asked barely above a whisper, feeling your throat clench and your eyes starting to burn.

“I’m not sure… I entered the room and saw your hands on fire, and I listened what you were thinking and trying to do, so I just took the shot as you told me, but I think it was a reflex, as your hand brushed my cheek… Then I tried to take you into the shower but you were extremely hot for me to touch you directly, so I used my powers to do it. You fell asleep short after… You’ve been asleep for half an hour.”

“How’s Nat?” you asked after a little silence.

“She will be fine, Bruce treated her wounds and he said she will be fine.”

“What are you not telling me, Wanda?” You asked, sad all over your face. She sighed.

“You almost burnt the compound…” Your eyes go wide and the tears that were forming started to fall. “You left little flames with your feet. And it started expanding. Thanks to Tony and Steve everything was controlled, and didn’t go big…” A silence comes next, and you feel worse than before.

Then you start crying, “Not again…” You say, covering your face with your hands. “It is all over again, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Wanda moves from where she is sitting at the edge of the bed and climbs with you, making you lay on top of her. You tense, afraid of hurting her again, when she says “I’m not afraid of you. You could never hurt me.” And then tears come down full force as you hide your face on the crook of her neck as she hugs you tight.

When you calm down, she says “Since I met you, I felt this guilt and fear inside you… Fury never told us why they captured you and were on jail at a maximum facility.” You tense and she continues “I felt what you were going to do, you were going to use your own powers to kill yourself… And that wasn’t the first time you thought about it… What happened? Why are you so scared? Please talk to me, Y/N, I want to help you.”

You remain silent for a moment, after you decide it’s time to tell her, at least her.

“My powers came to me after being exposed to a weird animal. My parents used to work to the government in some place they had weird creatures they were experimenting on. There was this kind of Phoenix I always felt attracted to, I didn’t know why. My parents used to let my little brother and I go to their laboratory for us to see what they were working on. But this creature was so fascinating to me, I made the mistake of wanting to watch it up close. It was cute at first as the creature was friendly. And then it bit me. I felt sick at the very moment and my parents treated me the best way possible.” You make a pause, and snuggle closer to Wanda, which only hugs you tighter. “They kept it hidden to their bosses and everyone, but eventually my powers emerged. My parents did not want any trouble or for me to be captured and experimented on, so we all kept it a secret. But they kept growing and getting stronger by the second. I would release little amounts of energy with little balls of fire or just a flame to light the stove or to lit up the chimney. But one day my parents and I got involved in a big, big fight.” You took time to compose yourself, knowing this was the first time you actually talked with anyone about this, and Wanda, sensing where this was going, only sighed and hugged you closer, afraid that you might break.

“The fight began with me telling them I wanted to go to college and make some friends. After the incident I was quarantined on my home, not being able to see anyone else than my parents, and it was killing me, even though it happened merely a month before. They said no. I wanted to go. They said it was too dangerous. I said I could control them and be normal. And they screamed that I wasn’t normal and I was dangerous. And then I lost it. I think it exploded… All of the energy kept inside me… My emotions got the best of it… And I just let go…” You flinch again, remembering the scene and starting to cry uncontrollably again. Wanda says nothing as she feels her own tears stream down her face. “I just… Remember after seeing their bodies… What once was their bodies, burnt… Dead… Because of me… My father, my mother… My little brother… I didn’t mean to-… It was an accident…” And then you couldn’t talk anymore, as you crumbled in Wanda’s arms, crying, pouring your heart out. The woman beside you only hugs you and cries silently. But she sensed there was more. Seeing you couldn’t talk, she asked: “Can I look inside your head?” She tried to say it as gentle as she could so she didn’t disturb you. After thinking about it, you nodded, and her hand went to your temple and her eyes lit up red.

She saw everything, the moment the creature bit you, the moment you gained your powers, the frustration you felt of being kept, the argument, the accident, when they captured you and experimented on you, suppressing your powers with the collar, the moment Fury came to you offering an opportunity. She saw and felt everything. After it, you just cried until you fell asleep on her arms.

Wanda couldn’t sleep that night. She was afraid that someone could rip you away from her. All the fear that you felt during everything was stuck in her brain. She understood you. She lost her parents and her brother too, but this was different, very different. She could only imagine the amount of guilt you felt. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m going to take care of you from now on. This is a promise.” She couldn’t deny it anymore. She was so deep in love with you. Since the first day she felt drawn to you, being the newest Avenger until you arrived made her want to be close to you, and she only wanted to know you better and better, until she couldn’t deny it anymore. Seeing you grew out of your shell, from the quiet new girl to the newest member of the family, she loved everything about you, and she was not going to give up on you. You suffered enough, you deserved to be loved.

The next morning Wanda carefully slipped out of your embrace to go to the kitchen to make some coffee. She was tired but she didn’t want to leave you alone.

When she reached the kitchen, Steve was already there, leaning against the counter.

“Wanda” he said when he saw her, and she knew he wasn’t going to say something good. “We need to talk, come with me to the conference room, please.” She followed him without saying much.

--

“You can’t do that!” She yelled at the team. When she arrived to the conference room, everybody was already there, and they filled her in with what the team decided. They were going to throw you out and back to Fury.

“It’s for the best.” Tony spoke, tired.

“How is it for the best?! How is she going to be better out?!” Wanda was starting to feel desperate.

“It’s not the best for her… It’s the best for us…” Bruce said quietly. Wanda got quiet as she saw everyone in the room. Last being Natasha. She had her hands and wrists covered in bandages, sitting quiet on the corner of the room, eyes glued to the floor.

“Do you agree with them?” Wanda asked her. Natasha said nothing. “Tasha… Seriously? After everything?”

Nat finally lift her gaze and met with Wanda’s. “I don’t… But this could’ve gone wrong…”

“That’s why we are here! We all agreed to help her! Why are you turning your backs to her?”

“We are scared…” Bruce spoke again, quietly.

“As scared as I was when I murdered my own family?” You spoke gaining everyone’s attention. Wanda felt your presence earlier, so she said nothing and just sighed clenching her fists, looking down.

Everyone was shocked to hear what you said, Nat watching you with surprise. “I’m sorry?” She asked, disbelieved.

“I think it’s time I tell you what Fury didn’t.” Wanda went to your side and intertwined your fingers, giving you her support.

--

Some time later, everyone watched you with surprise and horror on their features. Except for Wanda, she was watching you lovingly.

“I-I’m sorry, kid.” Tony spoke first. “We had no idea.”

“Yeah, I know, and I don’t blame you. I just wanted you guys to know the truth before you ask me to go.”

“You are not going anywhere” Nat said with conviction. Wanda and you eyed her surprised of her tone. “I’m sorry. We are your family, and it’s not fair what we are doing to you. We are supposed to support you, not leave you when you need us the most.” Nat started to tear up. “I’m sorry I even thought about it. I was scared… But it’s no match to what you are feeling. I want to help you feel like home, to know that you are safe and you can count on us. Please, forgive me, Y/N” She was tearing up at this point, moving to sit beside you, taking your hands with hers that were still bandaged to show you she didn’t fear you. You nodded, feeling overwhelmed again as she hugged you tight, telling you sorry.

Everyone apologized and made an effort to make you feel like home again. It wasn’t just Wanda the one that helped you train anymore, all of them helped in their own way. Bruce helping you control your emotions given his situation being similar. Tony helped to make the training room safer for you to use your powers freely. Steve and Nat trained you on 1v1 combat. Fury came back and both of you apologized, you agreeing to take the new medicine Dr. Cho made that it was significantly lighter than the others. Everything was fine again. Except one thing you had left to do.

--

You were sitting on the roof with Wanda, both of you admiring the stars, and chatting while eating a pizza you ordered before. You used to do that since the night you told Wanda the truth; she dragged you to the roof to watch the city lights and enjoy the company of the other one; Wanda was decided to show you the beauty of life and had a lot of events planned just for you and her. Eventually your eyes drifted to the witch beside you. She was gorgeous and you couldn’t control your feelings anymore. You were in love with Wanda Maximoff.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” She teased and you laughed at her comment.

“Nah, I prefer your live beautiful face.” You said back and she blushed. She scooted over to you and cupped your cheek with her hand. Since the incident where you burnt her, you wouldn’t touch her, afraid to hurt her again, but this time, Wanda took your hand and kissed it. “I’m not afraid of you, princess.” Your breath hitched at the pet name.

“I can’t deny it anymore, Maximoff, you made everything take meaning again… You did so much for me… You make me want to live, to actually be happy, to forgive my past and move on… And I can’t deny anymore that I’m so deeply in love with you.” She smiled beautifully as her eyes sparkled.

“Y/N, I’m glad to hear that… Because I’m so deeply in love with you too.” You dreamt of those words, and now you were hearing them directly from her. “I’m going to show you a world full of love, because you deserve it, and I’m going to help you heal.”

You smiled, knowing that you were already healing from your painful past.

She then leant and captured your lips on a sweet kiss.

You knew you were far from being good and at peace completely with your powers and your past. But this was a great start.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

I find myself travelling back to you // Simon Basset

Request: Could you possibly write a Simon Basset fic where maybe the reader is like a childhood friend and he bumps into them and they talk and catch up with maybe some romance or something - anon

A/N: My first Simon fic! I am a little uncertain of this as I am not sure whether I have Simon’s character down yet. I hope you all like! Thank you for requesting, I hope I have done it justice.

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, fluff, some angst, she/her pronouns, female reader.

Word count: 3.8k

There was not a cloud in the sky as you made your way through Mayfair after having turned down a carriage. Instead, you chose to walk away the morning, happy to feel the warmth of the sun through the layers of your dress.

The streets had started out as quiet; a few souls here and there, but they soon grew busier and busier as routines were started. Dodging bodies here and there, you found it hard to be annoyed at the crowds – the weather too perfect for your mood to be sullied.

A flash of deep red amongst the crowd has your eyes and body on alert; the sound of a deep voice has your ears pricking. “Simon?” You call out, eyebrows furrowing as you spy a familiar head of hair making their way through the crowds.

“(Y/N)?” The man in question answers, eyes wide as he takes in your form.

“It’s been so long,” You whisper, staring into his brown eyes. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Grace’ now. I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father,” You comment softly, not overly sorry for the death of the man who had mistreated his son so poorly but offering your condolences as a form of social etiquette.

Nodding his head, Simon smiles at you. “Thank you,” He gestures to the elderly lady on his arm, “I am sure you remember Lady Danbury.”

You smile widely at the elderly lady as she grins back at you. “Of course I do,” You laugh, “We meet at least once a week to have tea.”

If possible, Simon’s eyes grow wider to the point where Lady Danbury snorts. “Really now, Simon. Did you expect us ladies to go our separate ways when you left the country?”

“Of course not,” Simon drawls, amused by the elder. “I just didn’t realise you had a close relationship.”

“Well we do. That reminds me,” Lady Danbury pipes up, “I will not be able to make our tea appointment this week, dear (Y/N). My grandson, Gareth, is visiting.”

“Of course, Lady Danbury. We can always rearrange to the following week.”

“Nonsense,” She declares, slamming her cane onto the ground, “Simon will meet with you.”

Casting your gaze to the tall gentleman, it is not hard to miss to the surprise in his eyes. Shaking your head, you state, “I am sure the Duke has more pressing issues than tea with an old friend.”

Lady Danbury opens her mouth to protest your point but is beaten by the Duke. “I have nothing so pressing that cannot be rearranged. I shall meet you tomorrow, I assume Lady Danbury knows the spot.”

With a nod of your head, Simon smiles. He reaches out, grabbing your gloved hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Until tomorrow then,” He promises, stepping away from you with Lady Danbury in tow.

“Until tomorrow,” You whisper, watching the strong figure of your childhood friend walk away from you.

Glancing up at the still cloudless sky, you wonder how it is possible that the world keeps spinning when your own has changed so much. Simon left the country years ago, and even then, contact with the man was few and far between. He had left for school and seemingly left you behind. The very fact that he was happy to have tea with you sent shockwaves through your body; not a word for so many years and then this out of the blue.

Now glaring at the sky, you wonder whether there wasn’t a larger game afoot. One that had you reuniting with the childhood love that had left you a bereft teenager; it had you hoping you would not be left a heartbroken adult.

------

The pleasant weather was to continue, you thought to yourself as you sat down in the drawing room. Despite the calmness of the room; the sweet sound birdsong outside of your window, your stomach would not calm. Instead, it was threatening to make a mockery of your breakfast. A missive had arrived late yesterday evening from Lady Danbury explaining that Simon would indeed be calling on you for the promised tea.

Smoothing out your pale blue skirts, you wish desperately that you had brought something to keep you occupied as you wait for his imminent arrival. You curse the fact that you left your latest cross-stitch upstairs in your room, having worked on it late into the night. You could have used it to the pass the time to keep your mind busy.

“The Duke of Hastings,” The butler announces, startling you slightly, stepping aside for Simon to stride into the room.

Simon smiles widely as he spots you standing by the table; he rushes over to you, reaching for your hand, placing a lingering kiss to the back of it before straightening. “(Y/N),” He greets, breathless as if he had rushed all the way over here.

“Simon,” You answer, smiling just as widely.

Following his lead, you take a seat at the table, waiting for the tea service to be brought up.

“How is Lady Danbury?” You question, trying to fill the time for the service to arrive.

Simon laughs. “It seems she is on the warpath. Her grandson, Gareth, arrived this morning still out of sorts from the previous night.”

“No!” You gasp, “He’s barely of age!”

“That is what dear Lady Danbury was reminding poor Gareth as she swung her cane at him. I thought I better leave before her attention and her cane turned to me.”

“A good decision to have made.”

“Definitely,” Simon agrees, “As I was leaving, Gareth was promising his grandmother not to touch another drop of alcohol again though I doubt that promise will stick.”

“Poor Gareth,” You lament, thinking of the times you had been on receiving end of a lecture from Lady Danbury. “She does love him so though.”

“She does,” Simon states, “I remember his birth. It feels so long ago.”

You hum in agreement; wondering how quick time had flown by. Gareth was to be part of the next generation of society; he was to bring it into its future, especially if his grandmother had anything to say about it.

“How long have you been home?” You ask, pouring the both of you some tea now that it had arrived.

“I travelled to Clyvedon to settle things there before journeying down to London. I’ve been back in England just short of a month.”

“Oh,” You murmur, trying your best not to feel hurt that he hadn’t actively sought you out. After all, it had been years since you had last spoken. No correspondence had been exchanged throughout the duration of his travels; Lady Danbury had been the one to update you on where Simon was in the world. He hadn’t written you a single letter despite the long friendship that you still held dear. Instead, it had been an utter coincidence, a meeting in the streets that had proved to you he was still alive and breathing.

“I wanted to come see you,” Simon states, feeling bad about the broken sound that had left your mouth just now. He wasn’t one to talk so openly about his feelings, but he found himself needing to explain to you that he hadn’t stopped thinking of you since he stepped foot on English soil.

“Did you?” You question, sounding very much as if you did not believe a word leaving his mouth. By the unimpressed expression on your face, Simon knew you did not believe him.

“I did, but I got so busy. There were estates to manage, ledgers to balance and announcements to be made. By the time I landed in London, I was so thoroughly exhausted that I simply wandered to Lady Danbury’s home and fell asleep on her chaise-lounge. She wasn’t impressed.”

You snort before realising the impropriety, “I can imagine.”

Simon laughs entertained by the thought of Lady Danbury’s face when she found him snoring away on her chair. “As punishment, she made me accompany her on a walk… where we ran into you.”

“What a punishment,” You drawl.

Simon rolls his eyes at your tone. “I like to think of it as a happy coincidence.”

“Then I shall look at it in the same manner.”

There was something different about the man sitting across from you. Was it how he held his spoon? How he stirred his tea? Had the years abroad moulded him into a new person, one you could barely recognise?

Simon held himself entirely different to how he would when he was younger. His posture, perfect. His stance, brimming with confidence. It takes you aback somewhat as you take in the changes the years away at school and abroad have placed on his body.

Would your friendship still stand after so long apart? Is Simon simply placating Lady Danbury by having him meet you for tea? He talks such pretty words; can form sentences that leaves your mind in a spin, but this is the same man that had left the country without so much as a goodbye in your direction.

Reaching for your tea, you distract yourself from such intrusive thoughts. The tea clears your mind; letting you form a blank slate in your mind. “Enough talk of the past, no matter how recent,” You declare, “You left so long ago and came back a new person. It seems I need to get to know the new one.”

Simon smiles at you from his place across the table. “The same could be said for you too.”

You smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t mention how you had spent the last few years turning down every marriage proposal offered to you due to your heart belonging to another even in its broken state. “Time is a marvellous thing,” You offer instead, grabbing a small cake from the stand.

“Indeed,” Simon murmurs, eyes following the cake from the plate to your mouth. Despite the time that had passed, his feelings had not changed. They had grown stronger instead. By now, Simon truly understood the meaning of absence making the heart grow fonder. All through his travels, he had cursed himself for not asking you to join him. Through every country, principality and dominion, Simon wondered how it would be for you to be there with him, experiencing the wonders of it all.

“Where was your favourite place to travel?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, “I’ve never travelled further than France.”

Simon nods, remembering your trip abroad with the same pang of sadness he felt back then. He knew logically that you were sat across from him, yet the longing in his body did nothing to help repress the urge to reach out for your hand across the table – to touch you so he would know that you were there, and this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“I think my favourite place to visit was Greece. I stayed on the mainland for a while before eventually making my way around the islands. Each island had its own charms, but there was one that had me questioning whether I could live there for the rest of my life. It was so calm, so quiet. Not even the thoughts in my head could distract me from its serenity.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The island?”

“The travelling.”

Simon sighs, staring out of the window as he thinks of over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I miss the sights and the people. I miss the smells and the food. However, I do not miss the time zones. There were moments where I didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day it was.”

“It sounds as if you had a magical time,” You sigh, trying your best not to think of Simon in the desperate heat of the Mediterranean.

“It had its moments,” Simon admits, thinking of the hours he had spent in markets, trying local delicacies and drinking traditionally made coffee. He had adored every second of his travels; he hadn’t minded the odd illness that came along with a new environment when there was so much to learn and so much to experience.

“Will you be travelling again soon?”

“It depends,” Simon answers.

“On?”

“On whether I find anything to keep me here.”

Silence falls over you both as you take in his words, trying to find the meaning of them. Taking a sip of your tea, you wonder whether your friendship with the Duke would be enough to keep him grounded at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. Your heart skips a beat at thought that you might not be enough; your feelings for the Duke had never surprised you. They had not surprised Lady Danbury when you showed up on her doorstep in floods of tears after Simon had left for the continent; she had simply welcomed you into her home with words of comfort and reassurances.

“Will you be attending Lady Danbury’s ball later this week?” You ask, needing to take your mind off that terrible evening.

Simon chuckles, placing his teacup on its saucer. “I shall be in attendance. I find it hard to turn down Lady Danbury. Will you be there?”

You nod, thinking of the dress you had made special. “I will. I’m quite excited if I’m to be honest.”

“Why is that?”

You shrug, “The theme, the music, the company. Lady Danbury never fails with her balls.”

“She does not,” Simon agrees, remembering the grandiosity of such events before he left to travel.

“So I shall see you there?” You ask, your voice hopeful as if daring to wonder whether Simon would attend before no doubt leaving the country once more.

“You shall. Would you save me a dance perhaps?” Simon asks, his usual mischief alight in his eyes.

You smile widely, “Always.”

--------

The rest of the week is spent in anticipation; desperate for the hours to quicken so you could walk through the home of Lady Danbury to find Simon already waiting for you. A hopeless dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

The Duke of Hastings remains on your mind for the rest of the week. One chance meeting and one organised tea and it seems that the man had made his home in your mind and brought to life the feelings you were certain were dormant.

With those feelings in mind, you prepare for Lady Danbury’s ball knowing full well you were about to spend the evening in the presence of Simon, but also watching the mothers of London’s available fawn over him as if he was a prize to be won. It was enough to make your blood boil.

Ridding yourself of such anger, you enter the home of Lady Danbury.

Lady Danbury never spared any expense when it came her to time to host the event of the season. She knew that it would be reported on, that it would be spoken about. She also knew that there was a chance that many matches could be made that night; so no expense could be spared in the battle for love matches among the ton.

The sight of the ballroom takes your breath away as you enter. Lady Danbury had chosen the theme of the moon, stars and sun – asking her guests to dress in colours relating to either. Your navy blue skirts swish together the further you walk into the room, distracted by the moon and star decorations hanging from the high vaulted ceilings.

You’re so enraptured by the scenery that you do not hear the footsteps approaching or the whispers of the women beside you. It isn’t until you hear him call your name that you turn your gaze from the silver decorations.

“Simon,” You greet with a smile, “How have you been?”

“Very well,” He replies, “And yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“You look wonderful,” Simon compliments; eyes raking up and down your body.

Your skin heats at his rapt attention; flashes of heat soaring through you as your mind begins to think of all sorts of scenarios where you could keep his eyes on you for much longer. “Thank you,” You answer, voice breathy, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” Simon asks, voice quiet in the loud room.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand and allow him to lead you onto the dancefloor where many other couples are gathering.

Simon’s hand is soft on the small of your back; soft but insistent as it brings you closer to his own body. Wrapped up entirely in him, you find it hard to concentrate on the steps of the dance, easily being led around the dancefloor by the man who had captured your heart before you had even known the meaning of the word.

A large smile spreads over his face as he spins you out and brings you back. A surprised laugh leaves your lips as Simon spins you once more; the delight settling deep within your bones, melding to become a memory that would always be with you. Simon’s own laughter soons join yours and before long, neither of you are paying much attention and custom – the both of you having far too much fun in each other’s arms to be aware of the looks and glances being sent your way.

As the music fades into silence, Simon’s grip on you loosens reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go of you; doesn’t know when the next time he can hold you this close will be. If he could, he would steal you away right now, but etiquette and his title demands he be a gentleman.

With a strained smile, Simon bows at you once before turning away without a word. So deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t see you escape to the gardens before it is too late.

------

The gardens at Lady Danbury’s home had always been spectacular, but in the night, they were even more magnificent. Despite the shadows of night, you were not scared as you walked down the paths, fingers absently brushing over the flowers of delicately blooming flora.

Rather, your mind was occupied by the one man who had returned into your life after such a sizeable absence. Simon had danced with you tonight, and every aspect felt so perfect. The way his hand covered yours; the way his palm felt pressed against the small of your back. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you hide the smile on your face as you think of the way he had laughed with you as he spun you across the floor. He had looked so young; so carefree, as if he hadn’t the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I wondered where you had wandered off to,” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you.

“Simon!” You gasp, clutching your chest, “You scared me!”

He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps closer to you. “That was not my intention,” He promises, his smile wide.

“What was your intention then?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I wanted to ask you a question should you allow it.”

“We are alone,” You remind him, “We should move inside.”

“Please,” Simon pleads, “It won’t take long.”

You pause your steps. The cool night air settles around you as you wait for Simon to ask his question.

“Why did you never marry?” Simon demands; his eyes blazing with the need to know. “I know you had proposals; Lady Danbury even told me so.”

“There was never anyone good enough,” You confess, fisting your hands in the skirts of your dress to keep yourself from reaching out for him. “I tried. I really tried, but I always found myself thinking of you or wondering about you. Even though you never wrote, I still fell in love with you.”

Simon inhales sharply; not expecting your confession. You hadn’t expected to be so honest, but your heart was in control of your mouth; your mind taking a backseat on this one. Your heart had yearned after this man since you had learned the very definition of the word ‘love’.

“Why did you never write?” You ask, finally verbalising the question that had plagued your mind since the moment he had left.

He remains silent, so you repeat your question with a firmer voice. “Why did you never write, Simon?”

“If I had written to you, I would have come home.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“I needed to get away, I had to leave. To do that, I had to cut strings with you, or I never would have become the man I am today. I never would have become worthy of you.”

“It is for me to decide whether you are worthy of me, Simon Basset. I have found you worthy of my love since you were ten years old and getting caught hiding a fish in the footmen’s bed if you must know.”

“For that long?” He asks; his voice a mere hoarse gasp as he battles with this new information.

“For that long,” You affirm.

“I always found myself travelling back to you,” Simon admits, “I would be in the furthest corner of the world and my mind would question why you were never by my side. On my last trip, I found myself packing my belongings with you on my mind before I had even made the decision to return home. My father was part of it, I’ll admit. But you… you were the whole reason why I returned to London.”

“What does this mean?” You ask, confused and emotional over the night’s confessions.

“It means I no longer want to travel the world if you are not by my side. It means I want to court you and follow the traditions of society. I have two loves in my life: travel and you.”

“You love me?”

He nods, “I have since I was a teenager.”

“I love you too,” You respond honestly, seeing no reason to lie in a moment like this.

“So,” Simon sighs as your words settle over him like a balm over an open wound, “Shall we do this properly? Courting and the like.”

“I think I would. I think we could start right now,” You whisper, stepping closer to the man who you felt certain was the love of your life.

“Right now?”

You nod you head, smiling widely as you reach for the lapels of his jacket. “I think we could start this very moment with a kiss. What do you think?”

Simon glances from side to side, checking for witnesses, “Only if you promise not to kiss another.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” You admit happily, “Kiss me, Simon.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

*******

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