#requited yearning(?)

[ch4rryc0smos]

⊹ warm — a. donaldson.

synopsis — their hearts know who they beat for, and they're done waiting. every moment they spent away from each other, they will make up for it, some way or another, yearning never truly dies out, does it?

genres — friends to lovers, tension, mutual pining, requited yearning, admiring, best friend's friend, domestic fluff, requited love, fluff.

pairing — art donaldson x friend!self insert, art donaldson x mutual friend!self insert.

warnings — none! all fluffy!

word count — 1.5k.

author's note — this took me a bit to write because i've been busy and so horribly tired, but i've got a new idea, and i have something planned, so bear with me, i hope you enjoy!

masterlist.

The warmth of Art’s hand is encapsulated in Marion’s as he holds her pressed close to his side. His arms are tense, Marion can tell. She always could. Even when he used to play tennis. Marion isn’t necessarily wearing anything light, so even with the breeze teasing her, she shouldn’t be too cold, but Art wants to take his chances anyway. Marion looks up at Art, he’s staring ahead, but smiling softly. She misses his fluffy hair, flowing with the wind. Of course it made sense to cut it short for him to play tennis, but she misses seeing it get in his face when they’d have walks in the morning breeze while it assaulted them. She doesn’t realise she’s been smiling at him until he turns to her, and he raises his eyebrows. She looks away.

“Nothing,” she whispers. He isn’t convinced, he brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face, and then he leans down, so now they’re eye-level. “Art!” 

He continues grinning. Even at thirty one, he’s still acting like he did at twenty. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm,” Marion hums, feigning confusion, and then she flicks his forehead. He gasps softly and she erupts into laughter. This feels a bit immature, but it feels nice, to have him back, to just be, with him, in his arms. He still hasn’t let go of her waist. He pouts softly and Marion’s knees are about to give out. “Nicely cropped hair? Not really like you, Donaldson.”

“Hey…” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into her shoulder. She chuckles, wrapping her arms around his back and holding him close. The night hides them away from any prying eyes and it’s like being eighteen and going out together for the first time all over again. Just this time, she’s not in his sweatshirt and a random pair of jeans she stole from Tashi. This time, she’s still in her work outfit, courtesy to Art arriving too early to pick her up. 

Just like the day they reconciled. 

Marion presses a kiss to the side of Art’s head, and he melts in her arms. “I love you,” she whispers into his neatly cut hair. “Miss your messy hair, though.”

Art turns his face in her direction and their noses brush. He grins, leaning in until his lips are lightly grazing hers. Marion feels like mush in his hands. One of his hands slides up her body, and then cups her face. His palm is a warm contrast to the wind that’s ebbing and flowing between their bodies, entangled in the middle of the footpath. 

“I love you more, Mari’.” He gently moves back, instead opting to snake his arms around her shoulders, still covered by his jacket. He himself is in a casual shirt, a bit formal, a bit unlike him, but Marion knows he’s just trying to impress her, as if there’s any reason for it. “Do you want me to grow my hair out?”

“Art,” she starts. “You don’t have to ask me what do with your own hair, if you want to grow it out, you can, if you don’t want to,” her voice has grown to a hushed whisper even in the emptiness of the streets they tread and her hand finds its way to his as she intertwines their fingers. “You don’t have to.”

Marion shouldn’t be surprised, but she can’t help but notice the way Art relaxes, he squeezes her hand and then raises it gently to his lips, pressing feather light kisses to her knuckles.

He meets her eyes, her heart flutters like she’s a teen still. “Do you want me to grow it out?”

“Art.” Marion shakes her head. 

“Mari’,” he whispers back. 

She huffs, looking away, but smiling nonetheless. 

“Yeah, I do.” She sighs. 

“Then, I’m growing it out,” says Art, tone definitive.

Marion just shakes her head and stares ahead, at the streets, the singular cars that pass by every few minutes. It’s getting closer and closer to midnight, but these two are seemingly in their own world. And Marion personally, wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Art—”

“Want to get ice—”

Both of them start speaking at the same time, Marion stops, but so does Art. She nods. Art’s face breaks into a grin and grips her hand tighter. And then suddenly, he’s picked up pace, and Marion laughs, all surprised, but she’s not opposed to the idea of running with her Art down a random pathway on a random Tuesday, when the clock’s close to spiking midnight. He’s got that athlete strength and she’s close to losing her breath already.

“I can’t breathe—” she begins, voice breaking from holding back her giggles, she’s clinging onto Art for dear life. She doesn’t get how this old man with a whole daughter has the ability to run like this. So much for being an athlete. And so much for her having played tennis at college.

Slowly, Art comes to a halt, and Marion almost tumbles into him, “didn’t you play tennis with Tashi during Stanford?”

“Yeah, but I’m not some pro like…” she has to stop to forcefully inhale more air. “Like you.”

“You flatter me,” Art says, wrapping the jacket around Marion’s shoulders again. He’s standing in front of Art, brushing his hands over her shoulders, up her neck. A shiver crawls up her spine when his warm hands find the plains of her face, and he holds her gently. Her eyes dare flutter close, but only momentarily, and then again, she’s looking at him, like he might have hung the stars for her, like he is the moon she adores. Her eyes drop to his lips, but they don’t linger long enough, she looks away, at the space separating them. 

“Look at me,” Art’s voice is soft as he whispers the words, his hands hold her firmly in place, and then he brushes thumb over her lower lip. Marion’s heart rate skyrockets the way it did the first time they looked at each other at anything, anything but friends. 

They were never just friends. Art, with his neatly cut hair, and slightly cherry-tinted face looks at Marion, eyes looking almost glazed over, and she’s staring, lips parted. Her heart is a cacophony in her chest and she’s scared he can hear it, and hates it. This feels reckless, like being in love but not knowing if your heart is ready to settle. If they will, too. But now, they do know.

They’ve spent what feels like a lifetime tip-toeing around the feeling of knowing they’re made for no one else, but now, after so many years, they’re finally giving in. Marion brings her hand to hold the nape of Art’s neck tenderly, using her other hand to brush his cheek softly before she leans in, pressing her lips to his. Right outside a door, leading into a parlour. 

Art breathes into her mouth, pulling her closer, for a moment. His lips are perfectly moulded to the like of hers, and he knows where her mouth ends and his begins but not where their breaths end because they’ve become one.

When they pull away, Art’s grinning, and Marion laughs softly. And her eyes flutter close for just a moment, but then she feels a gust of much colder wind brush against her legs. She looks at Art, and he’s holding a door open for her. She steps through, and his arm latches around her waist again, and he leads her into the parlour. 

It’s that one ice cream parlour.

They’d visit when they were younger. 

Was Luke still the owner? Was he alive?

He was, much to Marion’s relief. She jogged up to the counter, smiling at him.

“Marion! Look at how you’ve grown,” he begins speaking, rather tenderly, as he had then too. 

“It’s not been that long,” Marion says, smiling as she glances at Art, who greets Luke too. 

The corner of Luke’s eyes crinkle as Art’s eyes wander to the ice cream under them. “Still the same, after all these years too, hm?”

“Yeah,” Art’s voice is calm, it’s almost quiet. 

“Same?”

Art nods.

Marion watches the interaction, and something fills her heart. In the quiet of the night, she’s watching the lights of the ice cream parlour reflect off Art’s face, and Luke has more wrinkles, but he’s so enthusiastic. She can’t ignore the way he’s looking at the both of them and she’s so glad her and Art’s intertwined fingers are hidden behind the counter. And then a small cup of ice cream is being pushed to her.

Cookies & cream, how’d he know—

“You two are still the same, don’t change.”

By the time the ice cream is done, they’re staring out at the ocean. The moon glimmers above their head and the stars twinkle for them. Art is holding Marion’s hands in his laps, and she plays with his fingers. The wind hums in their ears, and there’s this warmth blossoming in her guts. 

“I missed you,” she whispers, head pressed to his neck, drinking in his cologne.

He laughs softly, and his body shakes slightly from the force of it. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” She presses a tender kiss to a vein on his neck. 

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.”

He encircles his arms around her, his warm body pressed to hers, heartbeat steady under her arms. She missed him.

ch4rryc0smos © 2024 … do not repost, alter, translate, or steal my work.

[asteropewpew]

dearest shooting star 🌠

loving anaxagoras felt similar to the momentary awe whenever you spot a shooting star. that quick, brilliant flash of light streaking across the midnight sky, so vivid and arrogantly defiant against the moon.

i shine brighter than you, it would say to the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating the late night. this shooting star was so bright that it seemingly cut a large swathe across like very definite sword strike, all the while burning up the rest of itself during the end of their cosmic journey. so look only at me.

"Your students looked quite... apoplectic." You look observed, tone filled with knowing amusement as you watched his students amble their way out of his classroom with varying expressions of frustration. Or in some cases, with a look of absolute vengeance. "A lively morning earlier then, yes?"

Anaxagoras doesn't quite chuckle, but the small, involuntary huff as his lips curved slightly in smug glee gives away his current sentiment regarding his students. His form tilted slightly forward as he turned to face you, a pair of vivid seafoam eyes gleaming brightly with all the knowledge and intellect that captivated your attention like a treacherous lure.

It's both fortunate and unfortunate (for your heart), that your own class ends at just around the time that his class ends—with the bell tolling overhead to signal the students to do a self-study session (or exchange shared moments of misery) at numerous amphitheaters or at the central library of the Grove.

"As always, our class ended with another debate."

"About the gods, Professor?"

"Naturally." Given his rather vocal stance as a blasphemer, it was no surprise that his students had seen fit to challenge him to yet another debate. More likely in hopes to humble him rather than commit to any intellectual exchange, you mused. "And as always, they are infuriated whenever I poke out the holes in their arguments."

"Their collective spite would end up with you getting killed one day, you know?" A lie. For as notorious as Anaxagoras had been in criticizing the actions of the Flame-Chase Journey right alongside, his students had somehow decided that he was deserving of their gifts and...other knick knacks that you were most definitely sure were priceless antiques.

Poor Hyacine who's been given more work by the rising mess around his office, no doubt. Although Anaxagoras' new student named Phainon had been mentioned as some sort of precious antique collector and appraiser, which made organizing things much easier, if any.

"If they commit as much dedication to verbally eviscerate me on court trials and debates, they should focus it on their thesis proposals." The sneer in his face made your lips quirk into a smile.

"You should really stop goading your cute little students, Professor Anaxagoras."

He opened his mouth, likely retorting his favorite correction before realization caught his would-be misstep. The small "tch" made your smile widen even as he shot you a warning glare, not missing your clear attempt at throwing him off despite following his numerous insistence regarding the matter with his name. "Telling me how to handle my students now, Professor?"

It should feel criminal how your name comes out of his mouth in a slow, lilting drawl. Almost indulging, if you were to entertain your own fanciful whispers.

"Just a word of advice as a fellow lecturer." But his unimpressed look told you as much about just how convincing your excuse is.

loving anaxagoras felt like loving a shooting star. there is joy in catching that moment of fleeting beauty across the sky, knowing that it would forever be different from any other shooting stars in the world. but like all things, even shooting stars are unforgiving towards their admirers.

they were utterly beautiful in their destruction, the broken fragments carrying with it such a devastating power that perhaps a part of you would break in return; echoing the shatter of a brilliant celestial body with your own hapless heart.

"What did you do?" You rushed to ask, voice trembling ever so slightly as you looked at the ragged exhaustion across Anaxagoras' face.

"Merely created something that puts us in equal standing with the gods." He sounded victorious, as if the price of his triumph wasn't riddled with blood and pain. Anaxagoras looked inappropriately disheveled, clothes rumpled and singed at some of the hems—pale blue hair clinging to his face that was full of grime and sweat and a few cuts here and there. "And I have succeeded in finally making it useable."

There are tremors in his hands, visible ones and you couldn't take your eyes away from the inflamed skin where the bright red of the Philosopher's stone adorned his right hand. Instantly, you feel the impossibly heavy weight of his trust in allowing you inside his personal alchemical laboratory.

There's a myriad of things that you could say to him, and yet all of it would make you nothing more than a hypocrite who allowed the one that you cherished most to completely ruin himself in pursuit of knowledge. All those years that had you faithfully shadowing him in his unquenchable thirst for answers, barely managing to reel him back just in time before he truly hurtled towards the deep end.

All those years of endless exasperation and countless debates as you hurried to catch up to him, all of it cultivated into biting back down a few choices of words directed at his dangerous recklessness. "Really? Treating yourself so poorly while you're in an experimental binge doesn't quite count as a logical course of action."

You hurriedly knelt down beside him as you brought out a roll of fresh bandages from your satchel, and he was mindful enough to not give you much grief as he obediently placed his trembling hands in your hands.

"Am I ever in danger with my own experiments?" His retort made you purse your lips as you carefully started tending to his wounds, a deep frown crossing your face for all that your hands remained gentle in treating his injuries.

The silence that followed, was a little stifled. Even with you, as immersed in your irritation and worries, didn't fail to notice the tension lining over his shoulders.

"This won't be the last." In the end, it was Anaxagoras who broke the silence, sounding a little gruff as he ducked his head to avoid your gaze. "I still need to find the answers to my new questions... far too many thing—"

"Be that as it may," you interrupted his halfhearted reasons with a pointed glare, "you are still expected to teach your own students instead of passing all them off to me every time you get possessed in doing your experiments!"

He tilted his head in consideration, as if only belatedly recalling that he had spent longer in his laboratory than he had expected.

"The brats should know better than compare you with me." The stupid, foolish, heretic scholar with one of the sharpest minds of today, missed your very non-subtle show of concern. Amazing. Truly a mind of the ages indeed. "And besides, you're the only one that wouldn't revise my lesson plan without consulting me first. Or make those impressionable students learn something that they shouldn't waste their time."

"No, I just want to get them off me because I'm tired of grading forty students every week on two different subjects."

"..." The foolish professor didn't even try to object, knowing better than to test your limits.

You also refrained from pointing out that his students have this weird tendency to debate with any professors that even dared to make them stray off his meticulous curriculum, for all that they are keen to put him through the wringer for at least once before they could graduate. "No personal laboratory time for at least a while."

"You can't possibly demand that of me."

The smile on your face dared him to argue any further than this. "I believe Hyacine would appreciate being notified of your... occupational injuries."

There's another beat of silence, but it was a little easier this time. Familiar.

Although your worries still made your chest grow tight, his disgruntled look soothed something within you as he obediently tilted his head up for you to dab at the small cuts and abrasions across his face.

Even more, the victory was sweeter when Anaxagoras eventually grumbled in defeat.

loving anaxagoras felt a little like condemning yourself to watching the fleeting destruction of a shooting star. you, a criminal who was sentenced to chase and watch the one that you loved the most, meet his own end with the most joyous laugh that you've heard from him.

anaxagoras who would completely burn up himself upon reaching the zenith of his journey, content in defying the tranquility of the evening night in a blaze of brilliant light. the false sky, as he had claimed, with eyes sparkling like the simulated constellations in the astronomy laboratory where alchemy fabricates a sky without the threat of aquila's temperamental gaze.

how you wanted, to valiantly preserve that shine without losing the brilliance that belonged to anaxagoras and his endless curiosity. except he was the kind of person who was never meant to be caged, confined and conforming to conventional ideas.

because he was always and foremost, meant to be free.

(and you could only hope that he can come back to you from time to time, if his time permits it; which was a factor that was slowly getting dwindling with each passing day.)

...Perhaps you'd have known it then, that he wouldn't simply just stop at embedding a Philosopher's stone in his right hand. That nothing could truly ever satiate his thirst in finding out the intricacies wrapped around Amphoreus and the ever-enduring Flame-Chase journey.

That he would embody your most favorite celestial body in all its vivid, and gut-wrenching beauty like this.

"Anaxa—are you crazy?!"

You saw him, slumped over the pillars of the central table while the contents in his personal laboratory which looked as if a veritable storm had swept upon it. Potions and vials lay shattered all over the ground, his alchemical gun lying innocuously beside him while numerous papers full of almost unrecognizable scrawls were scattered on the floor.

For a brief, frightening moment, you feared the worst.

"My name...is Anaxa...goras," he rasped after a moment, lone eye a little dull and unfocused as he struggled to recollect his thoughts when you rushed over to him. "Do not...call me Anaxa."

"And very soon, those words will be your last words if you don't get to the Courtyard as fast you can!" Panic was laced in your voice as you tried to check whether he had any debilitating injuries that require a mad dash to the Courtyard.

(Thin. He's thinner again.)

"This is a...culmination of my life's research and a milestone...regarding my capabilities," he argued, wheezing as he bared his teeth in an attempt to hide his pain when he tried to shift his position as you carefully prodded at his form.

"Which would be utterly useless if you don't make a patent of it while you're still alive," you snapped, finally letting out a breath when your preliminary search yielded nothing but a couple of bruises and symptoms of dehydration alongside exhaustion. "Have you truly decided to throw your life away like the foolish blasphemer that you are?"

Ever since he came back from that one conversation with Empedocles after he'd lost his eye, you know that he was a little different.

Sharper perhaps, much more intense as he had been before. Yet he looked perpetually weary, for all that his back stood tall and unwavering while handing out criticisms and advice for his students and fellow scholars.

As if he was always desperately running towards something that remained just out of reach.

"Why...do you care anyway? You're always so...meddlesome." The question made your heart grow still. It felt like being in the middle of Aidonia's harshest snowstorm, the wind howling at your foolishness for daring to even hope. "Don't you understand...why I must...do this?"

He is so thoughtlessly cruel at times, your dearest shooting star.

"I can't accept that what you're doing is so important that you would throw away your entire life for it." You didn't beg, but all of your emotions saturated each and every word. "Please, just take a break, Anaxagoras. There is time. You have time."

"Nothing is more important than seeing the Truth...of the false sky." His voice was hoarse, yet unwavering with the weight of his own conviction and obsessive desire. "And proving that...the Flame-Chase journey is not so linear in its approach. Everything else...was just an afterthought."

"Perhaps I had thought too highly of our time spent together." It hurt, when you could sense nothing but the genuine truth laced in his words. He's definitely suffered some sort of altered mental status right now, but it did little to lessen the sting. "And that my effort towards a dear colleague and companion, was nothing more than a show of charity in your eyes."

Anaxagoras didn't speak, nor did he even need to, as he had finally passed out in abject exhaustion and pain-filled sleep.

(Perhaps it was the best, that he couldn't hear the bitter disappointment in your voice.)

You allowed yourself a look, a last glance, feeling like you've swallowed knives with each indication of self-neglect over his form. His clothes were bigger than it should be on him, not to the point of fright but enough just to indicate how much he's foregone sustenance at least multiple times. Likewise, there's a clear expression of exhaustion in his face. His clothes were disheveled, likely from his latest stunt more than an unconscious habit—but he looked utterly... small in that moment.

It would be easy to hate him. To rage and hate his foolishness, the ease in how he discarded his own present in favor of crafting a future that he had decided that was not his to see. The sheer hypocrisy by how passionate he was in insisting the sanctity of life and autonomy over "misguided notions" of honor and obligation, when each of his choices had contributed to his eventual ruin.

But you couldn't.

Despite all your frustrations and concerns, you never would be able to hate him for as much as you cherish him.

You know you were not so important as to be able to anchor his feet, but you can't help but wish you were.

loving anaxa meant suffering from daring to attempt that you could handle the intensity of a shooting star. it's like being a moth drawn to his vibrant flame, helplessly oblivious to the eventual agony of being burned alive.

you loved still loved your shooting star who had captivated your attention so tightly, before he spirited your heart away from your hands without any intention of returning it. nor even trying to take care of it.

anaxagoras was a great many things, but he was also utterly oblivious at the best of times. you should have created a boundary with him early on, to rein in your feelings as soon as your traitorous heart thundered at the sight of his bright, satisfied smile.

(but you didn't. and equally hurt and filled you with humility for every time you could see a part of anaxa that perhaps few or rather, none had ever been privy to see it.)

your blasphemer was always meant for great things, regardless if he would be scorned or admired for his actions.

and you could only watch and try to help him when he has burned himself too early in his journey towards searching for the truth of this world.

the astronomy laboratory was one of your favorite ventures, and you keep to your silence even as the door opened to welcome the familiar clack of footsteps coming towards the center of the laboratory.

"...I didn't know that there's someone using the astronomy laboratory."

"It's occupied." your voice was clipped, sparing only the barest words as you didn't bother to turn around and acknowledge the illustrious anaxagoras. there was a brief pause, before you heard a rustling sound as he carefully sat down beside you.

ever since that day, when you had rushed anaxagoras into the courtyard after he had collapsed, you decided to keep your distance. a futile attempt at drawing a boundary when you've already reached a point in no return, but you held strong even when hyacine had cautiously asked if you would like to visit him even just once.

it was more for your sake than his, and you were confident that he wouldn't even notice—for all that he's dedicated his focus and attention to his dogged pursuit of the truth.

"You weren't present to the general meeting with all the Professors." it took everything in you not to flinch when you felt the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

"I was busy." you were very much grateful that the darkness hid much of your expression as you drew your knees close to yourself.

"Busy with what?" he probed, because he never did have a sense of self-restraint when it comes to satiating his curiosity. "Hyacine told me that you asked to be relieved of another class to handle. And that you also applied for a...sabbatical leave."

the latter sentence echoed his mystified confusion, the notion of a vacation apparently being a foreign one to the foolish scholar.

"I'm accompanying Hyacine and Phainon on their usual visit back to Okhema." there, that should be enough to get him off your back and leave.

except it doesn't.

"You've never shown any interest in leaving the Grove for that holy city." it was evident how poorly he had regarded the capital with the eternal light, and you've heard his sentiments regarding a certain chrysos heir residing in the city often enough to understand his position.

but you didn't care much for that.

what pricked at your still smarting heart was—

"I don't need to report to you nor justify any of my actions to you for anything, Professor Anaxagoras." you replied, voice chillingly cold and void of your hurt as much as you can. "As you have made yourself quite clear on my interference to your pursuit of knowledge."

There was another pause, the fabric of his coat rustling as he abruptly moved closer to you.

"That day when you rushed me into the courtyard," his voice was faintly urgent, promptly you to finally give a glance at his pinched expression with a carefully distant look. except the faint unease within his piercing eyes made your traitorous heart flutter once again. "Did I say anything?"

this close, you could see that hyacine's work had lessened the exhaustion and overall gauntness of the scholar's face. despite you still childishly holding on to your anger, you felt a tension within you finally relax.

"Nothing but the truth, Professor." it was maddening, how your anger was quietly doused by seeing just how much he had recovered (even if you could still sense an air of weariness around him).

"That's not—" anaxagoras tsked, ever astute in deducing a hint from your response. "I said something."

you kept silent, because you refuse to be considered a puzzle where he would look for clues to satisfy his own questions. no, it would hurt you far too much if he treated what had happened as nothing more than a logical problem to be straightened out.

(it would be like holding out your still mending heart for him to destroy.)

"Whatever it was, it was enough for you to refuse a visit to me at the ward." the intensity in his gaze proved too much, and you ducked your head to look away from him. you saw his hand make an aborted move towards you, before it stopped and curled into a tight fist. "It happened when you caught me in my personal laboratory, and I was cognizant enough to respond but not enough to retain the memories of our brief interaction before you brought me to the Courtyard. You're angry. And I hurt you."

your foolish scholar had known nothing but the thorny path that would lead to his goals, and it was your own foolish decision to chase after him like a persistent shadow. in the end, everything can be traced back to your own decision to accompany him for so long—like that hapless moth who was drawn to the raging inferno that was anaxagoras the blasphemer.

you knew that he would change the world, at any and at all costs. even if the damning price was to ruin himself in the process.

"What did I say?" he asked again and... abruptly, you felt very tired.

forget it.

"It's alright," you murmured, finally looking up to give him a lopsided smile. don't worry, went unheard. "It was...my fault more than yours."

there was another pause again, before he spoke again.

"I am in need of a...companion for Hyacine to finally relinquish her watch on me." he said, stumbling over a particular word while you gave an inquiring hum.

you like to think that you know the undertone of his statement. don't go.

but you never truly left him, even in the height of your anger and hurt. hyacine would never fail to give you updates regarding his wellbeing and any additional expenses quietly paid for by you (under the guise of an anonymous benefactor), and combined with her stubbornness and the threat of making ika sit on his chest was enough for him to veer off from going back to his laboratory far too soon.

"...I can do that." it would be another story if you saw his main table and be reminded of how you initially saw him, but that was a thing for the future.

his shoulders slumping over slightly made a smile finally crack across your face, and he swiftly closed the remaining distance to rest his weight against yours.

"Good." and he sounded like he meant it.

you know that anaxagoras doesn't apologize for his actions, not because of pride but because he would not regret any of the actions that he had made. that each of his actions were driven with a purpose that would ultimately bring him closer to his goals.

when his hand carefully rested above yours after a while, the warmth spoke more than his clumsy attempts at making it for his apparent misstep. you gazed back upon the twinkling constellations, with the weight of anaxagoras' presence sitting close to your side.

your shooting star, if only for a moment, paused in his relentless pursuit to accompany you for the night.

it wasn't quite an apology, but it was more than enough.

(p.s. first time trying to do this so please tell me your thoughts? would you also want an anaxa pov to compliment this hehe)

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (8)- You'd Have To Stop The World

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 8- 8.6k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 7

A/N: Hey… So it’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry! Life has been super hectic these last few months and my mental health has been all over the place (which I have finally got a therapist to help me with!) So between two jobs, being in full time education and being depressed, it’s been pretty hard to consistently write or stay motivated but I’m sorta back? Only very briefly as it’s the holidays and my exams once again start again at the end of January and don’t finish pretty much till June. My plan for this fic is that this is the official final chapter of the story but I’m planning a sort of epilogue/extra chapter that I’ll add more info about in the end notes. Once again, I’m so sorry for leaving you all on a cliff-hanger (that was pretty evil of me)

But hopefully this makes it up to you <3 I love you all!

—

An empty feeling consumed your chest with every heavy step you took to the avenue your house was on, your hand gripping the dog lead harder than necessary as your eyes inevitably spotted the familiar red car that had pulled up into the drive next to yours, a gnawing feeling picking away at your mind. It had been just over a couple agonising weeks since the…incident with Wanda, a little while since you felt your heart crack once more, crumbling into hundreds of pieces that you felt would never be able to be put back together again, the constant replaying of the event in your mind further ensuring you wouldn’t heal from the memory. The agony that expressed itself in her choked sobs and broken, tearful gaze haunted you, it wedged an unfathomable ache in your soul that seemed unescapable, everything seeming to remind you of the woman you so desperately needed to remove from your thoughts.

You sighed in an irritated manner as you sensed where your thoughts were heading as you approached yours, and consequently, Wanda’s house, your head shaking subtly to try and rid you of the sight of her green gazing into yours, every swirl of her enticing green losing that glimmer of happiness you adored so much as you murmured the words ��I can’t’. It was draining, constantly being reminded of how your love was never meant to be, how things would never end up like the stories you’d dream of, willing the characters who were clearly destined to be together to push past that final barrier that was blocking their happiness, you just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.

Before you could drift further down that detrimental path, the sound of two energetic boys calling your name gripped your attention, a smile genuinely gracing your lips at their emphatic tones, their contagious smiles and laughter meeting your ears as you passed the bottom of their drive. You avoided looking further up the path as they approached you, not wanting to feel another wave of conflict course through you, your gaze staying focussed on the way Billy instantly ran towards Lucky, deciding he wanted to say hi to the bundle of fluff he loved so much.

“Y/n!” Tommy called excitedly, his tone hopeful as he continued, his little form standing in front of you, looking up at you with a cheerful and innocent smile, his enthusiasm to speak to you causing the corner of your lips to tug that little bit wider. “Can we please come over to play today?” He pleaded, eager to come over and show you how he had improved his kickups, now able to do fifteen in a row, as it had been a while since you allowed them over, not wanting to endure the unnecessary contact with Wanda.

At his hopeful and bright tone, you felt your heart melt at his and his brother’s actions, Billy fussing over Lucky who sat by him, the dog growing extremely fond of the brown haired boy as he enjoyed his company when they’d come over. It was natural for the two of them to occupy each other, Billy’s hand running through golden fur as he would read a comic whilst Tommy and yourself caused chaos, a small tug pulling on the strings of your heart as you didn’t want to deny the twins of the fun they had in your garden, but a harsher, more prominent tug reminded you of their mother, feeling her intense green gaze at you.

To say things were tense between you would be an understatement, Wanda’s entire being longing for you, to talk to you and try and clear things up, express the emotions she had spent years burying as she couldn’t physically hold it in any longer, but it was clear you didn’t want to even try, deciding the only way you were going to be able to move on was by leaving the other woman behind. You needed to move on, to forget the way she sparked joy into your life and in doing so, you reluctantly ignored her, deciding that it would somehow be easier for you to simply avoid her than face her and your thoughts once more.

Without even looking up, you could tell she had that pleading glint in her eyes, hoping you’d spare her even a mere glance as you crouched to the boy’s level, letting your hand ruffle Tommy’s hair in that teasing and playful manner that always made him giggle, an apologetic smile gracing your features.

“I’m sorry but I’ve got more boring adult stuff to do tonight,” you murmur softly, your face signalling your sorrow for disappointing them as you witness the excitement slowly crumble away from the twins, Tommy’s shoulders slumping a little.

“But you had that last week,” he argued, your gaze drifting to Billy who was smiling down at Lucky, the dog tilting its head back to stare up at the boy with his tongue sticking out, the golden retriever’s usual goofy manner making him laugh.

“I know, I’m sorry,” your tone comforting as you fix his hair briefly after messing it up. “Blame my boss for giving me homework,” you tease, the boy’s eyes almost widening in fear at the idea of still being given homework in adulthood, amusing you briefly before you continue, wanting to cheer them both up a little. “I promise you can come over soon, I miss beating you at football,” you playfully murmur, pushing his shoulder teasingly as a glint of determination appears in Tommy’s eyes, a small laugh escaping Billy as he knew you always somehow lost the football matches, potentially due to letting the smaller boys win but not telling them that. “Now go on to your parents, I’ve got to go and be an adult now,” you joked, as you stood back up, making a show of getting up, pretending as though you were that old it hurt your knees and back, further amusing them and bringing smiles back onto their faces.

“Bye Lucky,” Billy said with more enthusiasm before muttering a short goodbye to you, making you shake your head playfully as it was clear how much more he loved the dog than you, something you could understand as Lucky was such a good companion.

Your eyes followed the way Tommy ran after his brother after saying bye to you, something you regretted almost instantly as you saw Wanda greet them, her hand cradling each of their heads in a motherly manner before letting them run off inside, her head turning to look at you, as though she felt your eyes on her.

The brief eye contact made you freeze momentarily, conflicted at how to feel as the world around you seemed to fade away, the only things you were able to focus on being the way your heart started to pound in your chest and her intense green seeming to grip your attention. Staring into her gaze that held a glint of pain but also hope made you wonder whether Wanda felt this immense guilt you did when she avoided you when you first came back, your heart feeling as though it was being split into two. Despite everything, you wanted to comfort her, no matter what could happen between you both you always longed to protect and care for her and it always hurt, especially as you knew you were the reason she was hurting now, the situation between you two forever resembling two stars that never wanted to align. On the other hand, you knew you didn’t have it in you to soothe her pain, deciding to try and savour the last remnants of your heart, finding it would somehow be easier to push her away than deal with the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overpower you.

“Y/n please can we-” Wanda tried, desperation clearly lacing her tone as she took a pleading step forwards, wanting to, needing to talk to you, to try and clear the air and help navigate the feelings that were slowly suffocating her, trapping her in a place of despair.

Before she could finish her sentence, you sighed, shoulders slumping visibly for her to see, her brows drawing together as a pained expression took over her face as you stayed silent, merely offering her one last apologetic and equally broken look before turning away, walking towards your house and leaving her alone once more, a prominent ache forming in her chest.

“Please,” she whispered more to herself as you hesitated by your door, lowering your head whilst you paused before twisting your key in the lock, shutting yourself away from the other woman as her boys called for her, a despondent feeling consuming her whilst she had to force a smile to her lips, trying to put the mask back on for her family.

***

The sound of distant chatter met Wanda’s ears as she manoeuvred around the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner for everyone whilst her mind wandered elsewhere, inevitably drifting to thoughts involving you.

It was maddening to the other woman, the way you managed to consume her thoughts so regularly, how it seemed the world would have to stop for the longing in her heart for you to diminish, every fibre in her being longing for you, your presence, your laughter, simply you. You were the only thing that made her feel as though she was alive, that there was a purpose as to why her heart was beating in her chest, fluttering and melting at your actions. She hated how so many years had to pass for her to realise that she should never have tried to deny her feelings for you, to stop the love that wanted to bloom in her chest as she would gaze at you in your truck, a genuine look of happiness etched onto her features as she got lost in the moment, unbothered by the rest of the world and what she thought she had to be. She just wanted to be herself and in your presence was the only place she ever felt like she was safe enough. Even when you sat with her on your sofa that devastating night she felt safe, she felt more passion and affection in those sparing moments than over the years without you, an emptiness that brewed inside her craving your care to reminded her of how colourful life could be, like it was when you were both young, naïve and free adults with only one thought in your minds, each other.

It was apparent things would never change as you still consumed each other's thoughts, the love being replaced by haunting memories however, Wanda’s lips trembling slightly as she tried to get a grip on the emotions threatening to drown her, to force her into a spiral she didn’t want to experience. The years of pretending, lying to and berating herself fuelled her pain as she desperately tried to not let those thoughts control her once again, unable to survive in that mindset any longer, just wanting to accept that she was still normal, even if her heart wanted someone different, someone that she was told was wrong and corrupt. She wasn’t a freak, she wasn’t, she was just a victim of love was what Wanda repeated in her head, only reminding her of more confusing thoughts swarming around her head.

She loved you, she could finally say it to herself, but it was clear it wouldn’t matter as you avoided her, reluctant to cause any more pain as your feelings seemed to pass by each other at the wrong time, never quite clicking. It caused a different kind of hollow emptiness to settle in her chest, her mind dragging her down a painful trail of thoughts as she replayed that night in her mind, clinging onto anything that could offer some sort of relief to the agonising pain digging into her heart.

Cruelly, her thoughts remember the feeling of your delicate touch burning into her skin as you cupped her cheek, offering some sort of comfort to her after rejection and heartache flooded through her, gripping her heart in a manner that stripped her breath away, scared at the overwhelming feeling of pain. She could almost feel the lump that had formed in her throat, the way her lips trembled, tears spilling from her eyes as she sank into your body, desperately trying to relish in your comfort but succumbing to the agony that ripped through her chest, her soul.

The memory made her want to break down into tears once again, to let the avalanche of anxiety crash through her, knocking her over every time she managed to try and get back up but a small glimmer of hope floated through her mind, offering her a life line to cling onto.

She vividly remembers the way both of you leaned in, that intoxicating look in your eyes as you let your gaze drift to her lips, a longing look evident in them which only made it even more confusing for Wanda. She could see it in you, she was sure of it, you still loved her even after anything, it was something that tormented you forever as you said, confessing to her that you ‘had always been’ in love with her. You wanted it to work, even now. Why couldn’t things just work out? She was ready to tell you everything, to accept who she was but it wouldn’t matter, even if it was clear both of you felt the same way, your souls drawn together, it never seemed right.

Why couldn’t she just accept herself sooner? Why didn’t she realise loving you was worth any risk? Why was everything so confusing? She just wants to be able to think straight.

“Mom?” Tommy called suddenly, snapping Wanda out of her thoughts as she lifted her hand to wipe the stray tear that had spilt down her cheek, using all her courage to force a smile onto her face for the boys to see as they trudged into the kitchen, bored expressions on their faces. “Can you come and play with us please? Dad said he had a work call to take again,” he grumbles as both Billy and Tommy slump onto the stools by the kitchen island, their heads in their hands as they stare at the back of their mother, oblivious to the conflict swarming around her head.

At his words, anger seeped into Wanda’s mind as she let out a sigh, not wanting even more emotions to rage in her head at her husband's incompetence and inability to actually be a father for once, more memories from that night and the past few days filling her mind. After that argument that left her crying outside, Wanda had finally reached her tipping point, her heart unable to take anymore misery from the man, to waste any more years of her life pretending that she loved him, that she even cared for him. There was nothing left to savour between them and the last few days had only cemented the idea in her head to leave, to try and find someone else that would love her or show her some sort of affection, someone like you- No, not you, you were making that clear.

“I’m sorry but I’m a little busy Dorogoy, I’m trying to make Paprikash for dinner,” Wanda softly replies, making sure neither of the boys could sense the irritation that had brewed in her, their faces brightening at the mention of one of their favourite dishes though. Turning around to face them, she saw the disappointment briefly in their eyes from the usual dismissal from Vision, her heart clenching a little as they desperately wanted to play with someone, some joy filling them at the idea of food though, an idea entering Wanda’s mind. “Do you two want to help me make it?” She asked them, a gentle and motherly smile gracing her lips as they nodded eagerly, excited to try something new as they jumped off the seats to stand by her side, love blooming in her chest. Despite her negative feelings towards their father, the one thing she’d forever be grateful to him about was the two boys they brought into the world, her hands going to Billy’s shoulders as she instructed him on what to do, Tommy waiting to be told his job, both of them bickering on who was sous chef number one and who was sous chef number two.

Their playful chatter quickly filled the room, drowning Wanda’s incessant thoughts out of her mind as she supervised and made most of the dinner, letting the boys do simple tasks such as washing the vegetables and eventually trusting them to chop them, keeping her eyes on Tommy specifically though as he easily got distracted, the older woman not wanting him to accidentally hurt himself. It was almost as though all the emotions that were weighing her down were about to be forgotten, her boy’s making things more bearable, reminding her to enjoy the moment with them whilst a genuine smile stretched across her lips as the twins glanced up at her with a sheepish look, having knocked something off the countertop. Flour sprinkled across the floor at their mistake, simply earning a raised eyebrow from Wanda, their mother not even needing words to tell the twins it was their responsibility to clean the mess up when the sound of Vision’s laughter started echoing through to the kitchen, bringing a frown to Wanda’s face as well as the twins, the two of them looking up at her expectantly.

“Keep your eyes on the timer for me please,” she murmurs to the boys who had started to grab something to clean the floor with, their faces pulling into a brief confused look, “Shout me when there’s two minutes left, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Once the two of them nodded, she made her way into the living room to find their father, a sudden blinding rage consuming at the sight of him laid back in the armchair chatting on his phone, his smile wide as he chuckled to the person on the other end of the call, seemingly unaware of how selfish his actions were.

“God Tony, you should have seen the way Banner’s face dropped when I told him he inputted the numbers wrong,” Vision huffed out, amused at what had happened at work, his blue eyes flickering over at the movement in the corner of his eyes, drifting up Wanda’s body before meeting her green and the unimpressed and irritated look in them, a sigh escaping him which only amplified the annoyance building in her. “I’ll call you back Tony,” he muttered, having enough decency to end his conversation after meeting the look in his wife’s eyes.

“How was your work call?” Wanda coldly asked, her arms crossing over her chest as her head tilted slightly, looking down on the man who simply moved his hand to his temple, contemplating his answers as he let out a huff.

“Wanda, I’ve had a long week let’s not-” He tries, as he always does, but Wanda refuses to accept his blatant excuses, cutting him off.

“You have a ‘long week’ every week,” she dismisses, unbothered if she came across as careless or inconsiderate as she had finally had enough of his bullshit, needing to call him out and let it sit with him. “The boys were so excited to actually spend some time with you earlier, to play with their father but let me guess, talking to Tony and others was more important to you?” She states rather bluntly, his fingers moving to the bridge of his nose as he reluctantly listens to her. “Do you have any idea how much it upsets them?” Wanda asks, this time with a softer tone, trying to express the sadness it causes in their children at his constant false promises.

“Does it upset them? Or are they just upset that they haven’t gone over to Y/n’s house instead?” He questions, taking Wanda aback at the mention of you, all the thoughts from earlier flooding through her mind along with a new trail of thoughts at the annoyance in his tone. “Why can’t they just go over to her house? It’s better for everyone, they can have fun with her and I can have some quiet for once,” he mutters, earning a scoff from Wanda, her head shaking as she bites on her tongue, not wanting to start a screaming match with him tonight.

How did it ever come to this?

Before she can say a snarky remark or a bitter comment, they both hear Billy come into the living room to find Wanda, a confused and worried look appearing in his eyes making Wanda’s heart clench, her body instantly moving to comfort the boy, giving him a reassuring look before ushering him back into the kitchen, turning back to face her husband one last time, letting her thoughts clear before saying one last thing to him.

“Don’t be surprised at what happens next,” is all she says, defeated as she stares at him, trying to remember how part of her did love him at one point, only briefly as her heart only ever truly belonged to you before she turns away from him, making her way towards where her boys were, fingers finding her phone in her pocket, needing to search through her contacts for an old friend, ready to make her decision final.

It was over between them.

***

Grabbing the essentials for Lucky, you tossed the bag full of the necessities into the back of your truck, chuckling under your breath at the sight of the bundle of fluff sitting next to your feet, eager to come with you on your small journey as his tail wagged, tongue comically hanging out of his mouth.

The sun made his golden fur appear all the more angelic and adorable as you whistled for him to jump into the front seat of the vehicle, the window rolled down all the way as you quickly ran back up to check the front door was securely locked, ready to drive over to the lake to clear your mind from the thoughts that had been gnawing away at you over the last few days specifically.

You were just about to climb into the driver’s seat when you heard your name called by a familiar yet unfamiliar voice, a baffled look appearing on your face as you turned around to face the female voice, recognition appearing on your face along with confusion.

“Jen?” You eventually managed out as you stood by your car in a puzzled manner, a sense of happiness filling you at seeing an old friend from school, remembering all the crazy and entertaining science lessons the two of you shared next to each other, briefly remembering the way you nearly set part of the science lab on fire accidentally. It was still her fault in your opinion, but you weren't going to bring that up now after so many years.

“Y/n? Oh my god it really is you,” Jennifer Walter chuckled out as she approached you, walking over from Wanda’s house which you immediately noticed, not mentioning it though as you decided it wasn’t your business, despite how much it intrigued you.

“Yeah, wow it’s been a long time,” you sigh out, a little unsure of what to say as it was so surprising to see her, “What are you doing here? Wait, no, sorry, how are you first?” Your politeness earnt a smile in response as you leaned against your truck to talk to her casually, Lucky moving over to the driver’s seat and poking his head out near yours, further amusing you both.

“Good, I’ve just finished talking to Wanda about a…work thing,” she started, piquing your interest as you acted as though the words didn’t affect you that much, “So I’m currently back on business.” You nodded along to her words, listening attentively, “I need to go and check in to the hotel now though so is there any chance we could meet up another time and catch up?” Her tone was a little flustered as she looked at her watch, realising the time making you chuckle as she always seemed to be so busy, a look of concentration etched onto her face as she worked out her timings for her plans, running a little behind.

“Yeah, that’d be lovely, you still have my number right? Just message me and we’ll sort something out,” you reply, watching as she smiles gratefully at you, taking a step back as she needed to be leaving, having a work call to take at her hotel.

“Perfect! It was really nice to see you again,” She rushes out before ushering a quick goodbye at the sight of her taxi pulling up, your hand raising to wave her goodbye as you turn to get into your truck, now ready to leave to venture to the lake. Before you left though, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander over to the Maximoff house, trying to wrack your brain as to what career Jennifer would likely have gone into and figure out what they were doing, a strange, undecipherable feeling wrapping around your heart tightly. Shaking your head slightly, you tried to rid the thoughts from your mind, deciding you needed to stop thinking about her to move on, your mind focussing on reversing out of the drive and the adorable look on Lucky’s face.

***

The gentle sound of paws on the wooden surface of the dock caught your attention as you stared ahead at the vast stretch of water, the way the soft blue from the sky reflected delicately in each ripple of the lake, the gentle hues of green from surrounding bushes also adding to the picturesque setting you relaxed in, Lucky joining your side. Water dripped from his darkened fur, the golden tufts on his chin soaking wet as he held the tennis ball in his mouth next to you, tail wagging with enthusiasm as he impatiently waited for you to throw it again, his calm but also joyful demeanour always comforting to you.

With a smile on your face, you pushed yourself up onto your feet to throw the ball properly for the dog, taking the soaking ball and using all your strength to toss it as far into the lake as you could, watching as he leapt off the dock and splashed into the water, paddling over to chase the desired item.

Flopping back down onto the wood, you let your eyes flutter shut, trying to listen to the peaceful atmosphere and the world of nature around you, birds occasionally chirping, the splashing from Lucky, and the wind gently rustling the bushes around you to distract your thoughts but it was inevitable that enticing green would consume your mind.

Everything simply hurt. You felt broken once again, your heart felt as though it was bleeding anguish into your veins with everything you did, every choice you made as it never seemed to be the right one, it always ended up in pain and suffering that somehow seemed to have layers, finding new ways to torment you.

There was the initial pain from that night which plagued your mind, an incomprehensible amount of guilt flooding through you for destroying you both in ways you couldn’t describe, for being scared. You tried to justify your reasons, to convince yourself that you were protecting yourself for once, for trying to do something that would help you rather than others as you never seemed to care enough about yourself, a flaw that always came back to terrorise you. You were tired of always being the fool, the one who always ended up being broken or knocked down, so you tried to spare yourself the misery but it seemed that no matter what you would end up suffering, life forever playing a cruel joke on you.

You hated how pain also bloomed slowly, like a rose unfolding its petals, taking over your consciousness one thorn at a time as other agonising thoughts pestered you, making you question everything. You resented the guilt for hurting her, for supposedly being there to comfort her and making things worse, for avoiding her and leaving her to imagine the worst like you did when you returned. You loathed how yet, after everything, you still had hope for something, anything with her.

An annoyed sigh spilt from your lips as your hands moved to your eyes, anxiety trickling down your spine at your stupidity as your thoughts wandered down the wrong path, unable to stop yourself. That was your issue when it involved Wanda, no matter what you couldn’t stop your love for her, it was inescapable, you couldn’t get away from the memory of you both leaning in, her eyes conveying something different, something more. It was a look you had wanted to see every time she was with you, every time you spent intimately together in your truck, on this very dock, in the lake swimming with each other and pulling one another closer, it was all you ever wanted, to be looked at with love, and you threw it all away because your heart was too weak.

No, you didn’t throw anything away, there was nothing there. You had to believe this, believe that there was no chance of anything as you couldn’t carry on living like this, tortured by love for eternity. You were wrong, you had to be, you had to move on, that’s why you pulled back. It was the right thing to do, even if it hurt her, the two of you had to stop whatever this was between you, you had to let go.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you desperately tried to build the courage up once again to let her go, to spend the time restitching your heart together at the gaping wound that would be left there, but you struggled to do so, drained from all the conflicting and confusing thoughts that had gnawed away at your sanity already.

Why couldn’t it just stop?

Almost on cue to save you from your inner turmoil, Lucky reappeared at your side with the tennis ball, the item plopping to the wood and rolling towards you as the dog panted, almost smiling at you and oblivious to how much comfort he provided you with, your fingers threading through his wet fur. You were just about to murmur something to the dog playfully, a weak smile growing on your lips as your thoughts still pressed heavily on your mind, when a sudden bark left his lips, his head snapping over to the side, causing your eyes to follow his alert gaze.

Nerves instantly consumed your body at the sight of a familiar figure at the end of the path, Wanda’s face twisting into shock and confusion whilst her body halted, a tension immediately filling the air as you both held the gaze, unsure of what to do.

Wanda had only come here to clear her mind after speaking to Jennifer regarding her situation with Vision, usually coming up to the Lake to either remember the happy memories that filled her mind and warmed her heart of your time together or to simply lose herself in the tranquillity of nature, not wanting to think. She didn’t expect to see you or that conflicted look engraved on her face that pulled on the strings of her heart, her face softening as neither of you wanted to make the first move.

When it became too much, your eyes getting lost in the swirls of green you’d forever remember, you turned your head away rather abruptly to break the gaze, moving your hand to cover your face for a moment, desperately trying to gather yourself together.

What was she doing here? You couldn’t take it. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt again, to feel your heart break anymore. You wouldn’t survive. You needed to get out of there.

Pushing yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, your fingers twitched subconsciously by your side as you felt anxiety and panic clawing its way up your throat in a manner you hated, your mind filling with claustrophobic thoughts as you called for Lucky to follow you, wanting to escape. You felt vulnerable under her gaze like this, something you struggled with as this was why you constantly cared for others more than yourself, you couldn’t face your own feelings, you couldn’t face reality and truly let the sorrows of your life sink in, pulling you under.

At the distress on your face, Wanda wanted to comfort you, to pull you into her arms and let the warmth of your connection settle you both but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do, her own heart splitting into two as she couldn’t decide what to do. This was her chance, her chance to tell you everything, to confess, but the look on your face implied that you couldn’t handle it, your body gradually getting closer to hers, to pass her by, to leave her alone again. It was in the brief eye contact that you made as you somehow managed to keep moving without breaking down that Wanda saw a glint of something in your eyes, dread consuming her at the broken expression on your face as you looked at her, conveying without words that this would be the last time you saw her. It flooded memories of the day you left her the first time, that same glimmer appearing in your eyes making Wanda react, her hand reaching out for yours, not quite letting you let go just yet.

“Y/n wait, please,” she pleaded, desperation dripping from her shaky tone, the feeling of her finger tips wrapping around your arm sending sparks through your body, almost making you gasp at the intensity of it. “Please can we talk?” She tries, but all you can do is stare at where she holds you, another memory flooding your mind.

“Wanda wait,” you rush out as the other woman walks towards the end of the dock, ready to get into your truck for you to take her home, the stars shining bright above you both, the moon reflecting off the lake. The two of you had spent all day together, getting lost in the moment, unable to stop laughing and feel that gentle warmth envelope your chest in that tender manner every time you locked eyes, a nervousness building in you for the whole day as you planned to confess everything to her. 

Your hand reached out to hers, gently grasping her wrist, halting her and encouraging her to turn around to face you, her green filled with confusion but also curiosity, her smile casual and affectionate as you search for words.

“I…You make me feel…um,” you stammer out, unsure of how to phrase it as the countless scenarios that played in your head started to merge together, causing you to feel lost as you tried to navigate your heart, gazing into her eyes and letting her soothe you, taking a deep breath. Her brows furrow at your words, the gentle glow of the moon illuminating her features, giving her this angelic and radiant look as you lost yourself in her beauty, awestruck by her and unable to form any words. Instead of stumbling over your words again, you try a different approach, slowly moving your hand up to her face to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, a blush forming on her cheeks as she hesitates, your movements slowing as you gauge her reaction.

When she doesn’t pull away or give you any indication to stop, you step closer to her, giving her all the time she needed to tell you to stop, to not cross that line but she doesn’t, letting you lean in closer to her till your lips ghost one another, needing that last little bit of encouragement to kiss her for the first time.

If only you had known that kiss meant something different to her.

“I can’t,” is all you can croak out, voice raw with emotion and it shocked Wanda to see you so vulnerable, usually able to be the more composed one out of the two of you, signalling to her how heartbroken you truly were, her green expressing the guilt and regret filling her for being part of your pain. “It’s just going to hurt me, I-I can’t take it anymore,” you continue, regrettably meeting her gaze and conveying all of your emotions in a single look, almost stealing Wanda’s breath away at the intensity of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers, voice delicate but wavering at the emotions flooding through her, her mouth opening and closing as she hesitates, trying to read your expression as you simply gaze at her. “I don’t,” she reiterates, trying to reassure you as you pull your hand away from her, teetering on the edge of making the decision to walk away, to leave her in the past for good. “I just…” she starts, trailing off as she lets her gaze flicker down to how your feet shuffle slightly, seeming to want to move, prompting her to confess, needing to tell you at least once, even if it was too late. “I love you.”

The world around you faded away instantly at her words, leaving you to focus solely on her, the way hope but also desperation filled her features, an anxious look glimmering in them as she waited to you react but you couldn’t, you just froze to the spot, unable to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that crashed through you, clouding your judgement.

You were supposed to be walking away from her, letting her go and moving on. You were supposed to be accepting that it was over, not letting yourself cling onto false hope, to let yourself believe again. It hadn’t ended well before, who’s to say it would work this time? Yet you still couldn’t will yourself to leave, unable to resist her as you had craved to hear those words spill from her lips for most of your life, the words replaying in your mind like a drug.

“I love you, I always have,” Wanda continues, sensing your confliction as you still, eyes flickering away from her momentarily before back to her green, looking for the honesty and sincerity lacing each delicate swirl you fell for in the first place, “I’m sorry it took me so long to say. I…I was just scared to say it, to admit it to myself that I was but I can’t keep pretending that you don’t mean everything to me. It’s always been you, I’m sorry for never seeing that.”

At her confession, you think your heart has actually physically split into two, a broken sigh escaping you as the overwhelming feelings crash down on you like a tidal wave, sweeping you under and submerging you into despair and desperation, confused about everything that was happening inside your chest and head.

Love and happiness consumed part of you, wrapping tenderly around your heart that pounded in your chest, trying to soothe you as the words gradually settled in your mind, sinking in and amplifying the hope that was building within you at every second that passed by. Your eyes held her nervous gaze, meeting the honesty, care and affection that overflowed from her green, desperately trying to convey every single ounce of love she had for you, a love that defies descriptions at how intense it was. She loved you, it was something you had waited over a decade to hear, to ring around in your head as relief tried to bloom through you, to console you and help a smile stretch across your lips but a shadow of fear crept over your mind, clouding your judgement momentarily.

Doubts picked away at every single thought you had, over analysing her words as fear ran down your spine uncomfortably, briefly appearing in your eyes making the other woman’s brows furrow, confused as to how hope swiftly diminished in your gaze, turning to something more haunting. How did you know she was telling the truth? That she wouldn’t run away as soon as those thoughts came back to terrorise her, to destroy her. You didn’t want to be something disposable again, you wanted to be the person she came home to, the person who made her feel as though the world would fade away whilst you were together, to make happiness flood through with merely a glance, you wanted to be her lover.

At your silence, dread starts to amplify the uneasy feeling in Wanda as she pressingly tries to figure out your thoughts, to untangle the onslaught of emotions flashing across your features.

“Please say something,” she begs, the fear in her voice evident as she desperately hopes that you would say something, anything to her. She didn’t care if you screamed at her, broke her heart again and confirmed that she was too late, she just wanted something, the lack of response somehow worse than anything else.

“How…How do I know you aren’t going to change your mind?” Eventually, the words leave your lips, tone hesitant and broken as you want her to answer you honestly, needing her response to help you make your final decision of whether you were going to leave. You were giving her one last chance, unable to deny her as always.

“I won’t,” she replies without hesitation, getting her determination and point across as she reaches her hand out for yours subconsciously, wanting to assure you she meant everything she was saying, the words coming from the deepest parts of her. “I’m never going to make that mistake again,” she continues, searching your gaze as you listen attentively. “I’m.. I’m divorcing Vision,” she sighs out, your eyes widening momentarily, the words filling you with a sudden hope, part of you actually believing that this could be the moment where you finally click, your feelings not clashing but finally becoming in tune with one another. “I never wanted to be with him, I just thought it’s what I had to do, what everyone wanted from me,” she whispers out, finally getting it off her chest, causing your features to soften as you knew how far her internalised homophobia festered, so hearing her actually say the words ignited something in you, the fear dissipating from your veins. She’d finally admitted it.

“Do you remember Jennifer Walter?” She asks, wanting to give you proof that her decision was made, that she wasn’t going to turn her back on you anymore. At her words, your brows instantly furrow, confused as to why she had named your old friend, letting her continue as you manage to nod in response, “She’s a lawyer now, she’s helping me get the divorce started,” the words making the earlier meeting with Jennifer make sense, realisation etched onto your features as green continue to gaze at you, one of her hands sliding into yours, the touch electric as both of you seem to instantly relax a little at the contact, warmth spreading through your hands.

“That’s why she was at your house,” you murmur out to simply voice your thoughts, the pads of your fingers brushing one another tenderly, the feeling natural despite how long it had been, your gaze flickering down to the sight, savouring the peace it brought you before lifting your gaze back up to see her nod her head. The confirmation seems to trigger something in you, the fact she was actually changing, actively trying to become the person she had always wanted to be, brewed something deep inside you, easing your nerves slightly which was mirrored in the way you searched her green. The fact you don’t reject her touches gives Wanda hope along with the glint in your eyes, the nerves seeming to settle as an intimate atmosphere wraps around the two of you like an embrace, twelve years of longing expressed in simple looks.

“I know I don’t deserve it but please give me one last chance,” she pleads, your fingers interlocking, mirroring how your souls seemed to entwine, a small sigh leaving you after, despite all the thoughts begging you to leave, you knew you were still going to follow your heart. It always belonged to her. “I want to try properly this time, I want to make this work. I want us to work,” she murmurs and you can feel yourself being freed from most of your insecurities and the fear holding you back, a soft smile gradually stretching across your lips as relief consumes you entirely.

“Promise me you wont hurt me again,” you whisper softly, lifting your free hand to cup her cheek, her eyes glossing over in consolation as she melts into your touch, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

“I promise, I never wanted to hurt you, I just… It took me too long to realise you were all I ever wanted, the only person I wanted to love,” Wanda confesses, cherishing the way your hand feels against her skin, the sheer amount of comfort it provided to you both, the warmth that flooded through you both at the electric touch, the fact that such a simple action could arise such emotions stirring something in her. This was all she ever wanted, to feel loved, to feel loved by you again. “I want to make up for everything, to love you the way I've always dreamed of loving you. Please tell me I’m not too late.”

“You certainly took your time,” you whispered in a slight tease, attempting to ease the moment as it was emotionally intense, a small chuckle escaping her, making you remember how much you had missed that noise as it blessed your ears, your finger delicately brushing over her red tinted cheek, admiring the woman. “My heart has always been yours Wanda, I’ve never stopped loving you,” you confess in an intimate murmur, a sudden happiness enveloping you as you smile at her, realising that finally you had both confessed your feelings, the yearning you had both endured building up for this exact moment, clouding your mind with the thought of her.

Your eyes flickered down to her lips, her eyes mimicking the action and gazing longingly at yours, the feeling of your fingers caressing her skin intoxicating, the way your gaze flicker up to have one last intimate gaze addictive, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Without even realising it, the two of you leaned in closer, your head tilting marginally as your lips ghost hers, ready to slot over them and let years of passion consume you both, memories of the many kisses you had shared filtering through your mind as you try to savour the moment.

Inevitably, your lips met into a tender, loving and passionate kiss, the action saying more than a thousand words but most importantly the three that mattered- I love you. It was breath taking, the intimacy of the kiss as your lips pressed against once another, igniting sparks within each other as the melody of your love played a song of tenderness and affection in your hearts, letting peace wash over you both. It was a kiss that felt like more than simply mending your broken bond, an embrace that healed and reconciled the two of you, it was the start of something new, something to base a new relationship off and cherish as you looked to the future, wanting to tackle it together.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered against your lips at the two of you parted, foreheads leaning against each other as you felt her gentle breaths tickle your face, your eyes fluttered shut as you took in everything you could about the moment, her hand in yours, body pressed against you, lips brushing yours as she uttered the words that filled your mind.

“Say it again,” you sigh out, wanting to and needing to hear her say it again, and again, and again as you were addicted to the sound of those words spilling from her lips, almost as much as you were intoxicated by the way her lips perfectly met yours.

“I. Love. You,” she punctuated every word with a kiss that somehow was filled with more care, more affection as she continued to pour everything she felt towards you into the intimate moment, drowning you both in happiness as your souls intertwined, your bodied forever pulled to one another. “It’s always been you, only you,” Wanda murmurs as you both pull back once more, your eyes gently fluttering open to meet her enticing gaze, the shades of green almost making you fall for her all over again.

Smiles tugged at both of your lips as you lost yourselves in each other, your features softening before you press a kiss to her forehead, letting everything finally sink in your mind whilst you embraced like lovers.

You knew that your love wasn’t easy, it hadn't been so far and there were bound to be times when it was rough again, but it was a battle you were ready to fight for, even if it was against the world. Distance, time and the fears you both shared had already halted your story together but you fought bravely, tirelessly for it because you knew that your love was worth every struggle.

It always would be.

She always would be.

—

I want to apologise once more for the delay in getting this chapter out but I hope it was worth it as they finally got their happy ending <3 

I hope you have enjoyed their story as much as I have and I really hope this ending was alright for everyone as I really struggled with it (both planning and writing)

I want to thank you all for your support on this fic and my others as I can’t express how much you all mean to me, especially this year as it has personally been so difficult for me. I will forever be grateful to you all and I hope you know it!

This is sadly the end of the official story but my plan is to write an epilogue style final chapter which would involve smut (as I know that’s what most people want) but it’s up to you guys on which you’d rather it be!

1- A smut chapter of their first time after getting back together.

2- A smut chapter a few months after Wanda has finally divorced Vision and the Reader and Wanda both live together now (I’ll send the twins to Pietro’s don’t worry)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Wattpad- LovePersevering2

Tumblr- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger3000

[screechingcheesecakecheesecake]

I really like the reoccurring subtheme in JRSiH that even a long yearning love does not always mean that it deserves to be rewarded. It doesn't matter how long you held onto that love, if it wasn't going to be returned, then it won't. Love is not always happy, but that shouldn't stop you from opening your heart to another person either.

[keldae]

Musings

Gale couldn't remember the last time he had slept with someone – spending his time asleep wrapped in a lover's arms had been before Mystra. He hadn't ever needed to sleep when he was with his goddess in her realm, and she would never have come to the mortal planes to spend an entire night with him. So sharing his bedroll now was… unusual.

Not a bad type of unusual, he admitted to himself. But still unusual. And it was even more unusual that he hadn't had relations with his bed partner yet – that hadn't ever been a situation he'd found himself in, during the years before Mystra.

But then, with the orb in his chest… having sex was out of the question.

Unable to shut his mind off, he propped his head up on his pillow, looking down at the half-Elf who had stolen his blankets, and was trying to steal his heart. Devi was dead to the world, squished tightly against Gale's side, coppery hair loose around her head. Gale smiled fondly down at the little half-Elf, watching as a few strands of her hair moved with every slow breath past her parted lips. 

What are you seeing in your dreams tonight, Devi? he thought, gazing down at the thief. Hopefully her dreams were pleasant tonight. He didn't think she'd had a bad nightmare since they'd started sleeping together in the Underdark – he definitely had had pleasant dreams while sharing his tent and bedroll with her. Are you in Baldur's Gate, thriving as a little thief? Or are you thinking of the halfling and the dwarves from the book we read tonight? She had seemed to enjoy the story he had read to her.

Devi shifted slightly, rolling onto her side, facing Gale. Before he was quite aware of it, he was reaching to gently brush the loose strands of hair out of her face, tucking the locks behind one delicately pointed ear. His thumb touched her lips, slowly tracing the outline of her mouth. For a moment, he felt an unspeakable yearning for the woman sleeping beside him. If her thoughts during their lesson in the Weave were any indication, she wanted to kiss Gale, despite his affliction – and gods knew he desperately wanted to give her that kiss. He wanted to know what it would feel like to press his lips against hers, to let his tongue meet her own, to taste her mouth and breathe in her exhales as he fulfilled the vision she had shared with him of a kiss…

He closed his eyes, trying to force his mind away from the dangerous thoughts of kissing the woman with him. He'd spent the last year struggling to stabilise the orb – he couldn't risk his mental discipline failing him now. If he killed them all because of letting himself think too much, too enthusiastically, of kissing a beautiful girl… He wanted to groan in frustration.

Except that would have woken Devi up. He settled for silently scolding himself instead. Get a grip, Dekarios!

Besides, Devi wouldn't – couldn't – truly love a broken man like Gale was. He was older than she was, by quite a few years – and in trying to keep up with her youthful half-Elven exuberance, he definitely felt every tenday of his age in comparison to her. And he was irreparably broken, only a shadow of the man and wizard he had been a year and a half ago. He was the reject of a goddess, damned by his own foolishness, and doomed to meet an explosive end alone. 

In comparison, Devi was young, and full of life and fire and optimism. She had had a poor start in life – any child born poor in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate had a disadvantage. But she was smart, and stubborn, and if she was given the correct support, she could exceed any expectations for a girl born as a poor urchin. Maybe, Gale thought, he could leave a note leaving his wealth to her after he met his unavoidable end? Or he could just give her the key to his tower in Waterdeep before he inevitably had to leave the party to die somewhere safer. If she could cure her tadpole, maybe she could live on, somewhere safer than Baldur's Gate. And it would be a good use for the money and wealth he had, rather than leaving it all to rot. It wasn’t like Tara would really be able to use it, after all.

But he digressed. Devi was too young for him to pursue romantically, too vibrant, too lively to tie herself to a damned man. In another life, if they had ever even crossed paths, they would never have given each other a second thought (unless Devi had identified him as a pickpocketing target… which, Gale knew she would have targeted him in a heartbeat.). Even if he hadn't been damned, they were in entirely different social circles. Imagine the scandal, if he were to return to Waterdeep with an uneducated, uncouth, younger Baldurian thief, and one who could swear like a well-educated mercenary at that, as his lover! 

Gale grinned for a moment, imagining the reactions of some of his more class-conscious peers. His amusement faded with a sigh as he looked back down at Devi. You don't deserve as grim a fate as tying yourself to me would give you, he thought. You're too alive and hopeful to bind yourself to a broken, damned man. In another life, one where he wasn't a walking explosive, he might have still taken her to bed, trying to perhaps prove that being this much older than her just meant he was more experienced with pleasing a lover. And he was pretty certain he had pleased Mystra when he was the goddess’s lover – he could have wowed Devi with his command of the Weave in bed. He had already impressed her with their magic lesson after the tiefling party, and that had been tame! What he could have done behind a sound dampening ward to blow her away and make her cry out his name in bliss, over and over again…

Speaking of blowing away, he firmly turned his thoughts away from the idea of bedding Devi, thinking about spell incantations instead. The orb rumbled in his chest, but remained calm for the moment as his heart settled back down.

With another sigh, he stroked Devi's hair back from her face again. Where will your mind take you tonight? Will you dream of me? You really shouldn't – I'm a dead man walking. You deserve better than a broken heart. Although, wasn't he bold, to think that Devi might care for him the way he did her? What could he possibly offer her besides his knowledge of the arcane? He was doomed twice over – once from the illithid tadpole, and once from his own idiocy. She at least still had a chance at a normal life once she was cured of the tadpole. 

Tomorrow, he decided, he would start trying to distance himself from her. It would hurt her in the short term, and it would be agony for him, but it was for the best. She deserved better than to develop affections for a man who had nothing before him but an explosive death. Maybe he could subtly point her in the direction of Wyll – the warlock, despite his devilish appearance, was a good man. He was certainly a better man than the wizard who had tried to advance himself beyond mortal limitations to impress a goddess – and even with Wyll’s pact to a devil, he had a hope for a future beyond a destructive death alone. And he was younger, and handsome, and full of life and vigour, and could crack a joke to make even Devi groan while she was laughing…

Gods, this was already breaking Gale's heart.

But Devi would be happy with Wyll. Or maybe Shadowheart, if Wyll didn’t strike her fancy – the two half-Elves seemed to have a close connection already. Even if Shadowheart was a Sharran, Devi didn't seem to think less of her for it. Or Karlach, as boisterous and friendly as she was, would be a good match for the feisty little thief.

None of them were a depressed middle-aged wizard who had already exceeded his potential and his usefulness to Faerûn. 

Gale sighed yet again and started to roll away from Devi onto his side, trying to get some sleep. In the morning he would talk to Devi, and see if the thief would be receptive to the idea of spending her nights apart from him. Certainly, she would be upset at first – Gale fully expected to get slapped. But she had to see the logic eventually, right? She was more than smart enough, even if she was uneducated –

At his side, Devi softly moaned in protest of his movements. Her hand reached up, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down on his back again. Before Gale could do anything, the little half-Elf wrapped her arm around his stomach and settled her head on his chest, squirming until she was comfortable. Once she was satisfied with her human pillow, she sighed and draped her leg over his before she fell fully back to sleep, peacefully lost in her dreams.

Shit. This was not doing a damn thing to help Gale reconcile himself to letting go of her. She felt so damn good beside him, warm and snuggly, tucked under his arm where she belonged. How in the Nine Hells was he supposed to separate himself from her when she did things like this to him? His heart twisted in his chest at how serenely innocent she looked. She trusted him enough to sleep with him, even with the orb in his chest that could kill them all in an instant. Hells, she was sleeping on him now, only inches from the ugly markings he bore!

And she didn't seem to be bothered by that in the slightest.

“Why do you do this to me?” Gale whispered to the woman at his side. Giving up, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her closer to him. Was it his imagination, or did a little smile flicker over her lips as she felt him embrace her? He inwardly groaned – there was no way he could force himself to let go of her, or make her let go of him, when she so effortlessly held his heart in her hands. He was dooming her, every night that he slept with her, every time he read a book for her, every time he gave her a kind word or a smile or a gentle touch.

She would never let go of him in the way she needed to, in order to save herself from him and his grim fate. And Gale knew she would only call him a “self-destructive hopeless idiot”, or something similar, and cling tighter to him if he tried to talk to her about this and make her see sense.

Was she wrong, though?

Frustrated, Gale closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep. Perhaps in the morning, he could think of a way to gently turn Devi from him and to a partner who actually had a future. It would break his heart, but it was better than dragging her down with him.

But maybe he could allow himself one more night of holding Devi against his heart and wishing he could safely confess his love for her. He sighed, forcing himself to resist the urge to kiss her hair, or her forehead, or those perfect lips. If he started kissing her even innocently right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, not until the orb ended him. But gods, he wished he could… He could have died happy while kissing her, but it wasn't worth the risk he posed to everyone else in a ten-mile radius. Nobody else deserved to die while he indulged himself in kissing the woman he wanted – especially not the woman in question.

He sighed, shifting as much as he dared until he was comfortable under Devi. His other hand came up to slowly card his fingers through her loose hair, a soothing motion that made her contentedly hum in her sleep. Dammit, Devi, he thought, you make it too easy for me to love you.

That thought made him blink his eyes open again. Was this…? He thought for a moment, then sighed. Yes – this was love he felt for the woman in his arms. This was adoration, and devotion, and more than a bit of strongly-denied lust. He wanted her in every way possible – emotionally, and in spirit, and yes, physically too. 

But he wanted her safe and happy, even more than he wanted her with him. If you really love her, then you have to let her go, he tried to tell himself. Doesn't she deserve better than to be with you? Wyll would make her happy.

But what if she doesn't want Wyll? What if–

He firmly shut down the little voice in his mind before it could make the suggestion that maybe the woman in his arms wanted him. Nobody with any sense would want the older, broken, damned man that he was.

Then again, just that day, Astarion had been very enthusiastic in telling Devi that she had no sense, or self-preservation instincts, whatsoever…

Shut up. He scowled, then tugged the blankets up a little higher over himself and Devi. Just go to sleep. With any luck, Devi will see the truth herself without any prodding. And if she doesn't… it will hurt, but it will save her in the long term to break from her.

He sighed, then settled in to sleep, savouring what he was determined would be his last night holding the woman he loved.

—

Only a couple of hours later, Gale awoke to the sound of a whimper. He opened his eyes, frowning into the darkness of his tent until he heard a stifled sob from the half-Elf in his arms. He mumbled the incantation for a light cantrip, looking at Devi with anxiety spiking in his chest.

She didn't appear to be hurt. But her brow was furrowed as if she was in pain, and she was shaking. “Stop…” she whispered, flinching from something only she could see. “Please…”

Worried, Gale gently shook her shoulder. “Devi,” he lowly said, softly calling her name. “You're dreaming. You need to wake up.”

Devi didn't seem to hear him. She flinched again as though she'd been struck. “No,” she begged whoever was tormenting her. “You're hurting me!”

Gale shook her again, fear making the motion a little harder. “Devi,” he spoke her name again, a little louder. “Wake up, darling. I have you – you're safe. Wake up.”

His words didn't seem to be getting through. Devi whimpered again, her fingers tightening in Gale's shirt. “Please… help me… stop!” Her next words made Gale's heart twist in his chest. “No! Not Gale! Please!”

“Shhhh.” Gale shook her again and pressed his lips to her hair. “It's all right, darling. You're safe. Wake up now.” He lowered his lips to her ear as she whimpered again. “Wake up, Devi. You're safe… you're safe. I promise. Wake up. Wake up!”

Devi's twitching and flinching finally slowed, then stopped as Gale kept kissing her hair and whispering soothing reassurances to her. He finally felt her clutch his shirt a little tighter as she turned her head up to him. “Gale?” she whispered, her voice tiny and broken.

“I'm here,” Gale murmured, relief washing through his veins. “I have you. You're safe – it was just a dream, dear one. You're perfectly safe.”

“Oh, gods.” Still shaking, Devi buried her face in the crook of Gale's neck, clinging to him. “You were… you were…”

“Shhh,” Gale whispered. “I'm here.” He took her hand, guiding it to rest over his beating heart so she could feel his pulse. “I’m here. You’re all right – and so am I. Just breathe.” He heard a little sob from the woman he was holding, and felt his heart break for her. “Shhh. Breathe with me, Devi. Can you feel me breathing?” He waited until she nodded into his neck. “That’s my girl. Breathe with me, darling.” He focused on taking slow, calming breaths to make his chest move enough for her to easily feel him. For the first few breaths, Devi couldn’t quite match his slow breathing – stifled sobs made her body jerk unevenly under his arm. But as the minutes passed, she seemed to find his rhythm with breathing, her inhales slowly coming to match his as she calmed down from her nightmare. 

“Thank you,” she finally mumbled, slowly pulling her face out of his neck. There was a suspicious wetness on her cheeks that told Gale she’d been crying into his skin; indeed, he could feel her tears on him. “I’m sorry–”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Gale murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Devi started to shake her head, then hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I… told you how my father’s a gods-damned bastard that not even the hells want?” she asked, her voice low and quiet. 

Gale nodded. “You’ve told me he’s a terrible person and you plan on dancing on his grave when he dies,” he softly answered. “Or using his grave for a latrine. Perhaps both.”

Devi made a little sound that Gale thought was trying to be a laugh, a laugh mingled with a sob. “He deserves it. He and his friends, they…” She took a shaky breath, not looking at Gale’s face. “They were hurting me, and then they… they decided to hurt you when you appeared in the dream — I think you were trying to save me? But they… gods, the things they did…” 

“Shhh.” Gale pulled Devi’s face back into the crook of his neck; she went to him willingly, clinging to him. “We’re both all right – there’s nothing to be afraid of in this tent.” Except the orb, and the tadpoles, and the threat of the Absolute, and the small-but-still-present risk that Mystra would simply spontaneously detonate the orb in Gale’s chest to kill him and everyone around him – Gale shook his head. “We’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you when I’m here to protect you.” 

“They hurt you,” Devi mumbled. “They were hurting you, and they were going to kill you, and–”

“Shhh. It was just a bad dream, darling. I’m entirely unhurt, and so are you.” Gale hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “And you can tell your subconscious that I don’t fear a thief and his henchmen. I might be outnumbered, but I would make them regret facing me before falling.”

Devi trembled again in his arms. “You couldn’t fight,” she whispered, quiet enough that Gale almost couldn’t hear her. “You… you were trying to save me. If you had fought them… they would have hurt me more.”

Apparently Devi’s subconscious knew Gale well enough to know that this was a truth about him. If that nightmare had been reality… Gale knew he would have stopped fighting the instant it became clear that his resistance would have endangered the woman he loved. “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. Your father can’t hurt either of us here.” 

He felt Devi slowly nod, but she still clung to him, shaking like a leaf. He suspected that she was probably too scared to easily go back to sleep. With a grunt, he reached out for the book they had been reading earlier that evening – or rather, that he had been reading to her. Nudging the lights to where he could more easily see the pages, he opened the book back where they had left off. “Shall I try to get your mind back onto a more soothing subject?” he asked. At her hesitant nod, he kissed her hair again, then started quietly reading the next chapter. The halfling and dwarves had been caught by ogres, and were being argued over by said ogres who couldn’t decide how to cook them properly. It was one of Gale’s favourite scenes in the book, and Devi seemed to be entranced by the story normally. Indeed, she seemed to calm down as he read to her, shifting from having her face buried in his neck, to resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

As Gale came to the end of the chapter, he looked down to see Devi’s eyes closed and her lips slightly parted again, her breathing soft and slow. He wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep again, but he was grateful that she had found rest. Careful to not disturb her, he replaced the bookmark in the pages, then set the book back down and extinguished the lights over their heads. Devi grunted as he slowly rested on the pillow again, then snuggled up as closely as she could to him.

Gale sighed softly, running his hand over her hair soothingly. Apparently this was the gods’ way of foiling his plan to break apart from Devi before anything could begin with them. Who else was going to cuddle the little half-Elf after her nightmares? Who else would read to her to get her mind off her fear again? Try as Gale might, he couldn’t imagine Devi snuggling up so closely to Wyll, or Shadowheart, or Karlach, or any of their other friends in the party. For some reason, she had chosen Gale, doomed and damned as he was.

Guilt and hope surged in equal amounts in his heart – guilt because he was dragging Devi down with him, and hope because maybe he wasn’t quite as broken and useless as he believed himself to be. Maybe Devi saw something in him that he couldn’t see or acknowledge himself.

It would have been easier if she didn’t see anything in him, he thought. 

He yawned and let himself cuddle Devi closely, doing his best to make sure she felt protected and safe in his arms. “No harm will come to you if I can help it,” he promised her in a whisper. “You are safe with me.” Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on her hair and let himself fall back asleep, praying that Devi’s dreams for the rest of the night (and his, he supposed) would be peaceful.

If you dream of me again, dear one… dream of the happiness that I can’t give you in reality. Please don’t dream of either of us suffering for the other, he thought before sleep reclaimed him.

[corgate-epistolary]

May 3rd, 624

(Transcript under the cut) (Read on Ao3 HERE)

[Written on off-white writing paper with a smooth but lightly textured hand, in golden yellow-brown ink, in cursive. Letter was folded into its own rectangular envelope, and sealed with a wax seal depicting a cat surrounded by moons, mountains, and window-like arch frame. The wax seal is silver, pale green, and gold swirled together]

Elowen Vance, A.Mg. Corgate Village Post Office

May 3rd, 624

Eris Mirrows, A.Mg. 87 Lancedragon Street Avalon

Mx. Mirrows:

We have arrived safely at Corgate.  The [scratch-out] villagers have been, on the whole, extremely [scratch-out] welcoming to Mg. Hawkins & myself. For once, Mg. Hawkins country manners are serving him far better than my own, as the locals see him as one of their own come home again.  I know Mg. Equlee is bitterly disappointed by the council’s decision (and if it were in my power I [scratch-out] would have [scratch-out, “recom”] recommended to send both, [scratch-out, appears to have been a closed parenthesis] as irritable as they can be to [scratch-out, “the”] each other) but I do not believe he would enjoy this section of the trip.  Please do express my condolences & apologies if you feel it

[end of page 1]

would be in his best interest.

The train journey was fine, & the tracks in this area are in good repair.  Should you ever have cause to visit, it is about one day’s journey via the train from the city to the station in Corgate, which is very small but well kept.  I am told from here it is another two hours’ [scratch-out, “tra”] travel to the ruins.  As such, I am intending to make the journey to the station for mail & supplies once weekly, and will consider it a morning’s work.

While I am away from Avalon, would you please keep me abreast of the latest happenings with the council?  And of course the general public knowledge of our colleagues & their doings.  I know you find it a little trivial, however [scratch-out, “evew”] even you must recognize the importance of good information before some other magician drags yours into some risky scheme.  We have a duty to ensure that they do not blow themselves up, after all.  I ask only because Mg. Hawkins (and I, in my less charitable moments) is convinced that this posting, far from the city & the university, is intended as a quiet exile as punishment for Mg. Hawkins’ lack of interest

[end of page 2]

in pursuing more formalized proofs & magical education.  I am sure you can hear in your mind his perennial exclamation that he is “getting along just fine as I am!”  I know I can even though I can hear him snoring quite plainly through the inn walls.

Such walls!  The buildings in Corgate seem made [scratch-out, “of”, but written poorly] of tissue paper to my eye - all frame, wattle, & daub and no bricks to be seen.  I am not so sure I will be truly suited to agent’s work in the field, but I can certainly see that Mg. Hawkins is quite in his element.  He seems quite at peace with himself here in a way he has [scratch-out, “nev”] never seemed back home.  Like a bird let loose from a cage, I suppose.  I am ever so glad he is happy, but I will have to learn his trick of avoiding the country mud before I go mad.

On an unrelated note, however, would you please stop by Vimes Place and look for my brown satchel?  In the scramble to get Mg. Hawkins (and all his supplies) out the door, I believe I left it

[end of page 3]

on the front table. It [scratch-out, “on”] only has a few novels & my copy of the notes on the ruins, which I could copy over again if needed, but I do not want to, AND you have the key.  I would trust it to you & to the post office [scratch-out, at the bottom of “office”] here in Corgate, but ask Mg. Equlee to put a little locking on it first.

I will look [scratch-out, “y”] for [scratch-out] your letter when I come down to Corgate next.  [scratch-out, “Stay we”] Stay well!

Ms. Elowen Vance, A.Mg.

P.S. Please let me know if any of my plants start looking sorrowful.  And do forward a newspaper [scratch-out] or two from time to time if you can

[end of page 4][end of letter]

[flowercrowngods]

the prompt: pool | rating: G | cw: none as per popular request: yearning (requited)

Ripples of light dance across his skin in hues of silver and blue and Steve wonders if Eddie knows how it steals his breath, how it makes him want to trail the light’s path from Eddie’s chest up to his cheeks where the tiniest of smiles leaves dimples that have become so achingly familiar these days.

It leaves him jealous, for just a second, the way that the light is allowed to touch Eddie so intimately. The way it gets to make him look like that.

It leaves Steve with that familiar ache in his chest, reminding him that he doesn't know Eddie like that. No matter how often he dreams it up, no matter how many times Eddie occupies his every waking thought to the point where they have entire conversations that will never happen.

It leaves him aching with the need to touch, to feel, to taste. And, most pressingly, to tell.

You're beautiful. You're captivating. You're everything.

The words rest on the tip of his tongue even now, in the deepest part of the night where silence reigns, allowing even terrified boys to rest their minds — but not their hearts. Not their needs. Not their skin tingling with phantom touch that they keep dreaming up night after night after night.

Steve swallows and tears his eyes away from the droplets of water that drip down the curled ends of Eddie’s hair, landing on his chest, his legs, or the pool beneath him. He doesn’t make it far, though, captivated instead by hooded eyes that refuse to look away once their gazes lock.

Cool water lapping at the skin of his legs where he's sitting on the edge of the pool is the only thing that keeps him anchored as Eddie looks at him like that across the water that separates them.

Water, and a plethora of words unsaid, silent confessions in the deepest night that feel like so much more than wishful thinking right now.

Especially when Eddie's smile widens, painted with a silver brush that catches every droplet as though they were stars and Eddie the night sky.

"I could stay here forever," he sighs, his exhale gentle and heavy at the same time.

Steve wants to sink into the pool, wants the cold water to surround him and clear his head, wash away the aching, the yearning, the words on the tip of his tongue.

Tell me, then. Tell me how I get you to stay.

"You can," is all he says, the water rippling in time with his rapidly beating heart.

"Yeah? Willing to keep me, Stevie?"

When Steve nods, breathless, Eddie's silver-streaked smile widens.

🌷written for @steddiemicrofic

[ch4rryc0smos]

⊹ time & wounds left — a. donaldson.

synopsis — a dreadful day leads marion to a night at art's. with a doubt-filled mind, she finds her conscience speaking more than she is, but he is there to always remind her that she's more than what her cover page shows.

genres — friends to lovers, tension, mutual pining, requited yearning, admiring, best friend's friend, domestic angst & fluff, requited love, hurt/comfort.

pairing — art donaldson x friend!self insert, art donaldson x mutual friend!self insert.

warnings — mentions of doubt, and scars, fear of intimacy, if that counts?

word count — 1.2k.

author's note — i love writing but sometimes i'm just too drained, and it kills me, because i really don't want to be, but at least i finished this. :) happy reading!

masterlist.

Art is tracing mindless shapes on the dips of Marion’s skin, cold air brushing past his fingers, under the thin fabric of her sweatshirt, that isn’t truly hers. It’s his, but neither of them remember the last time they mentioned that. And now of all times, was more inappropriate than ever. Words didn’t escape Marion as she lay corpse-still in Art’s arms, letting the latter thumb her skin and provide her with a stabilising presence. He doesn’t talk. She’s been in his bed for the better half of the past three hours, and he hasn’t left her. 

He didn’t leave for a second. It’s like he knew from the second she walked in, hands shaking, and words not leaving her mouth that she just needed that stability, in some way, shape or form. She just needed to stay wrapped up in someone’s arms, not be asked for anything. And for some reason, Art can provide that perfectly. At first, he asked her if she’d like to be held.

She did, she really did. With his window thrown open, and her back facing the world, she’s more than content (Well, as much as she can be) to just bask in his warmth. The autumn air feels like nothing when compared to the way his arms flex as he shifts her gently so he can access more skin on her back, to rub away at the tenseness.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles against his chest, voice muffled. His fingers still, he squeezes her waist.

“Why, baby?” he whispers against the top of her head.

She sighs, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. “For being so…” she considers her words, letting silence dance in the emptiness in the air between them. Art doesn’t push, he waits patiently. “Pathetic.”

“You aren’t.” He’s quick to say it, as if he truly knows, as if he could form it into a concrete concept that will forever linger, even as time decays. Marion laughs softly, nose buried into the space between his shoulder and his neck, breathing a bit shallow. He starts rubbing circles on her back. “Never.”

“Even if they say it?” she asks. She feels childish, for confirming like that, but, she doesn’t know what else there is to do. She can feel the pressure as he presses his lips against the top of her head, nodding.

“Yes.”

They spend a few more minutes in pure silence. Marion is subconsciously shifting closer to Art. He knows, he notices, and he’s been carding his fingers through her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead and the tips of her fingertips, and every inch of her face that she allows him to touch. The moon glows down on them, and Art is breathing softly. Marion doesn’t want this to end. It feels better than the way she’s been feeling all day, dreadful. He’s holding her like he doesn’t intend to let go, and she likes that more than she’s ready to admit.

“Art?” she breathes against his collarbone. Her hands find their way around his shoulders, and she’s pulling him closer. Even though they’re pressed right against each other. She leans her head upwards, just a bit, his curls start tickling her head. A laugh escapes. 

Art shifts, glancing down at her. Their eyes meet, for probably only the second time the entire night. “Yeah, love?” his voice is a breath, a whisper in the night breeze. It might’ve passed her if she wasn’t intently listening, eyes glued to the way his skin and his features are illuminated by the moon. The way his nose dips, and the shadow cast over part of his face. His hand is rising higher on her neck, she inhales sharply, but doesn’t pull back.

“You…” she starts, but her courage dims. Until he’s cupping her face so she can’t look away. He leans closer, his forehead pressed to hers. “You don’t mind, right?” Marion closes her eyes because she’s far too scared to actually look at his expression. She’s scared he’s disappointed. She doesn’t want him to be. 

“Hey,” he whispers, tracing her jaw with his thumb. “Open your eyes, please.”

Her eyes flutter open. Why does he sound like he’s begging? Why is he frowning, softly? Marion gulps. She doesn’t know what to say, or what to think, she thinks she’s just a bit scared of what he might say, just a bit. A bit—Not a lot.

“No, I don’t mind, not at all,” he says, pushing strands of hair out of her eyes. 

“Even when I can’t seem to… just relax?” She’s referring to every time his hands rose anything above her stomach when they’d just been cuddling. And the way she tensed. And when his apologises tumbled right after. She remembers holding his hands and pressing them to her face, and the way they fell to his shoulders.

“Mari’,” he begins. He pouts, pressing his lips to her forehead. “That doesn’t change anything.” 

But it should. It should. “Really?”

“Really.” He intertwines their fingers, squeezing her hand. “No matter what we do, or don’t, I don’t see you as any different.”

Marion sighs, shoving her face into his neck. Art mumbles sweet nothings into her ear. The moon shines down on them. One of Art’s hands is under her shirt, rubbing shapes into the skin of her back. A smile blooms on his face at the way gooseflesh erupts on her skin. 

“I love you,” the words slip out in the most casual of senses, but they don’t mean anything casual. Marion wraps her arms around his neck, whispering back her own confession. Something about how she barely stutters it out, about how her voice shakes. 

When Art pulls her up, she’s looking right at him. She notices that his face is blooming into a shade of scarlet, he’s smiling, softly. Her heart flutters, she reaches with one hand, and cups his face. He snakes his arm around her waist and pulls her flush against him again. 

He whispers the words again, like they might dissolve into nothingness if he doesn’t keep on repeating them like a prayer. Marion laughs softly, smiling at him, her head being the only part that isn’t pressed right against him. She brushes her nose against his, and his lips part. His breath is warm against her lips. She leans in, gulps.

He raises his head so their lips meet for the better half of two seconds, and then she turns her head away, blushing. Her face feels warm, really warm. She giggles, grinning.

His hand cups the back of her head, presses her forehead to his.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too, so much,” her voice comes out muffled, but he gets the point.

His chest rises and falls quickly as he laughs softly, relaxing completely against the crumpled sheets, covers thrown aside while his limbs are completely tangled with hers. He’d have it no other way.

Neither would she. His hands run over every dent in her skin, every rough patch, and every spot that is still weak from years and years of the hardening it underwent. He runs his fingers over every healing wound reverently, every second passing by slower than the last because this is a feeling neither of them want to forget. 

And they hope they won’t.

ch4rryc0smos © 2024 … do not repost, alter, translate, or steal my work.

[hayaku14]

been listening to lay me down since last night, thinking and crying about kaishin, and earlier today i found a sam smith and ben platt duet version of it and it made it all the more kaishin to me i can't stop listening to it im going so insane maybe i should just make a list of kaishin fics that made me feel like lay me down actually ✋😔

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (6)- Standing Face To Face

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 6- 5k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 5

Having to live next door to the woman who haunted your thoughts for the last decade, who still had a piece of your heart despite everything that had happened, was the cruellest joke the universe could have played on you. It tore you apart a little each day when you’d leave the house and watch as she tried to ignore your longing and pleading gaze, the way she’d try to hurry the twins up to get into the car so she wouldn’t have to interact with you. It felt like she was… repulsed by you, by the feelings you stirred within her and it only pressed against the wound on your heart harder every time. It hurt, it hurt so fucking much and you weren’t sure how to untangle the mess of thoughts in your mind, how to start unravelling the whirlwind of emotions that flooded through you every day when she’d ignore and avoid you.

You couldn’t decide what broke your heart more, the fact that you had to push down everything once again for her and pretend that she was just the woman next door, that she didn’t mean anything to you because she shouldn’t. It brought back all those memories of bottling up your feelings, putting everyone else before yourself and having to experience the dull ache that settled in your chest with every forced smile, every lie you told to make her feel better as that’s all you ever cared about. You only ever cared about her.

The other thing that slowly twisted the knife lodged in your chest was the fact that she had finally gotten the life she always wanted, the life she desperately thought she needed, and she wasn’t happy with it. You knew Wanda, you had known her better than anyone else, you could read her body and understand exactly what was wrong with her with a simple look, and you knew that she wanted nothing more than something different from the life she had built with Vision.

You could only watch helplessly as she pushed herself through each and every day, watch as the two of them would argue constantly when the twins were away at their grandparents or uncle’s house, the way she’d be left with tears in her eyes and no one to comfort her. It broke you in a way you couldn’t imagine, the sight of her wiping her tears on the doorstep as he stormed past her, the many times it had happened and how it hung over her like a shadow. It was a dark presence that loomed over her joy, the corner of her never lifting as high as she’d want them to because of how trapped she felt.

You just wanted to make her smile again, but you didn’t want to interfere, clearly reading the signs that she was still confused and shocked by your arrival, likely still trying to wrap her head around the swarm of emotions that were dug up just like you were.

A deep sigh left you as your hands reached up to rub your temples, your mind unable to stop thinking about her, about the two of you, what the two of you were. You needed to stop driving yourself mad, to just stop thinking about those green eyes for once in your life. It was over, it had been for years and it forever would be. There was no point in torturing yourself by thinking about what the two of you could have been, the fact it could have been you two living with your family like the way you had always dreamed.

Another frustrated noise left you as you couldn’t stop your thoughts dragging you down a negative spiral, your body stilling in your hallways with Lucky’s lead in your hand as you took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you would inevitably see Wanda, knowing she’d likely be getting the twins in the car soon for school.

It took you a minute to gradually relax yourself, Lucky’s eyes staring up at you, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he waited a little impatiently, clearly excited to go for the walk when a knock at the door surprised you both, your heart fluttering in your chest briefly. Was it Wanda? You shook the thought away almost as soon as it came, a sudden nervousness crawling through you as you tentatively opened the door, a sigh mixed with relief and disappointment escaping you at the sight of a slightly older woman with a bowl of cookies in her hand.

“Good morning dear, you’ll have to forgive me for how long it’s taken for me to welcome you to the neighbourhood,” the woman said, her eyes raking up and down your body as you were in your workout gear, her smile lifting a little bit as mischief flashed in her eyes, her head tilting in an enticing manner. “My husband only told me yesterday that you had officially moved in,” she continued, her eyes eventually meeting yours, her gaze expressing how she was looking at you like fresh meat, her hand reaching forwards in greeting. “I’m Agatha, I live in the house across the street,” the older woman introduces, her tone cheery as you smile at her politely, shaking her hand whilst observing how her gaze eventually leaves your figure to Lucky, her smile faltering for a minute at the sight of a pet before returning to her joyful state.

“I’m Y/n, it’s lovely to meet you,” you reply kindly, taking the bowl from her with a soft smile whilst thanking her, her fingers lingering against yours, brushing against you purposely before she moves her hand, clearly trying to flirt with you. You brush off her actions, knowing you weren’t interested in her, only one woman present in your mind as the sound of two young boys and their tired mother caught your attention, your head turning immediately at the sound.

You missed how Agatha’s gaze remained focussed on you, watching curiously as the look in your eyes changed to longing as you stared off at Wanda trying to get the twins into the car for school, Tommy seeming to be grumpy as he trudged his way over to the vehicle, a small wave directed at you as he saw Lucky sat by your feet, his mood still sour though. You shyly waved back to the boy as you did every morning, Wanda’s head naturally turning to see who he was acknowledging, her body seeming to freeze momentarily at the sight of you and Agatha, her hand affectionately on your shoulder. A flash of something appeared on her expressive features, your brows furrowing slightly at the hurt you saw before it immediately faded away as she needed to get in the car, the twins running a little late for school.

Reluctantly, you tore your attention away from the other woman and back to Agatha, an intrigued glimmer evident in her eyes as she smiled at you, her hand still on your shoulder making you shuffle slightly, the older woman getting the hint.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I need to get going now,” you say, one of your hands rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly as your eyes flickered to the red car reversing out of the drive, catching Wanda’s green once more before refusing to look in that general direction again until she had gone, not needing any more confusion to cloud your mind.

“No worries dear,” her tone is still chirpy despite your rejection of her advances, “If you need anything I’m just across the road,” she reiterates, a small nod coming from you as you place the bowl of cookies on the side in the hall, making sure you had everything you needed for your walk as she continued, “I mean anything Y/n, don’t be shy to come over,” she adds before saying goodbye, the suggestiveness not missed in her voice as you just smile once more, trying to kindly get rid of her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you softly murmur, locking the front door after she had left you, another deep sigh escaping you as swarms of doubts and insecurities filled your mind, that hurt expression haunting you for your entire walk.

***

Throwing the tennis ball to the bottom of your garden, you chuckled at the way Lucky sprinted to chase after the ball, his body jumping slightly to catch the item as it bounced against the grass, a proud look on his face as he pranced back over to you, excited to continue playing. Your fingers gently threaded through his golden locks affectionately as he dropped the ball for you to throw again, his tongue hanging comically out of his mouth as he stared at the item in your hand as if it was the most important thing in the world, his brown eyes tracking every little movement of your hand as you went to throw it again.

Just as you were about to toss it, the sight of a football being kicked over the small fence caught both of your attentions as it rolled against your grass, Lucky running off to investigate the odd object whilst your head tilted to the side, chuckling at the sight of two sheepish boys looking over the fence. Billy’s face was plastered with embarrassment as he apologetically looked at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking over at the where the ball had landed, his gaze brightening at the sight of Lucky sitting next to it, the golden retriever having stolen both of their hearts. Tommy’s expression contrasted his brother's, the brief apologetic look on his face swiftly turning into excitement once he saw the dog, the brunette always elated to see Lucky and desperately wishing he could spend more time with him, his mouth moving without thinking.

“Can we come and play?” he asked instead of apologising for kicking the ball over or asking for it back, your brow raising at his reddened cheeks as he realised he should have said sorry first, Billy muttering something to himself at his brother’s actions. “Please?” He added sheepishly at the end, another amused chuckle escaping you before you considered his words.

You could tell that both of the boys were eager to spend time entertaining the bundle of fluff, the anticipation in their eyes as they waited for you to respond enough of a hint that they were wishing you would say yes. Personally, you didn’t mind if they wanted to come over and play, the two of them most definitely going to be able to match Lucky’s energy levels and tire him out, the issue was whether Wanda would be alright with it. You didn’t want to seem as though you were meddling in her business or with her family, but you were desperate to find an excuse to stand face to face with her and have a proper conversation, unable to keep ignoring or pushing away the feelings that resurfaced every time you saw her.

“Yes but only if your mother says it’s ok,” you answer, their smiles practically reaching their ears as they run off inside to find Wanda emphatically, your body moving to play with their football as you were waiting for them, Lucky rolling around in the grass by your feet. As you were doing kick ups, the sight of auburn hair caught your attention, your focus slipping causing you to miss the ball as it dropped to the floor, your heart pounding against your ribcage as Wanda stood by the fence, looking over at you with a confused look, her emotions masked as the twins stood next to her, bodies practically buzzing with excitement.

“Are you sure it’s alright if they come and play?” she asks, her voice staying composed and void of any emotion, your features conveying your disappointment as she avoids your gaze, simply looking over the work you had done in your garden instead.

“Yes, as long as you’re fine with it,” you softly murmur, your tone gentle and encouraging her to look at you, those enchanting eyes briefly flickering to yours and almost stealing your breath away, her cheeks tinting a subtle shade of pink as she averts her gaze, focussing on her children instead.

“Behave and have fun,” she mutters in a motherly tone, pressing a quick kiss to the both of their heads before they run off to go to your gate, Wanda’s eyes meeting yours one last time before she tries to turn away, the sight of her walking away from you, still trying to stay away from you, causing a flash of hurt to wash through you.

“Wanda, wait,” you rush out, walking as close to the fence as you could, hope bubbling in your chest at the way her body stills. Hesitation was evident on her face as she reluctantly turned to look at you, the emotions she was desperately trying to keep control of flooding through her as she didn't hide the hurt, confusion and longing in her eyes, your shoulders slumping slightly at her despondent form.

Wanda wanted to talk to you, she wanted to escape reality and savour spending time with you, knowing that you somehow seemed to make the world disappear and lift the corner of her lips no matter what, but she couldn’t. Every time she looked at you she was reminded how she made the wrong choice, how she had the life she was told to have and not the one she wanted. She was also reminded at how loveless her relationship was and how under-appreciated she was, how little she cared for Vision and their marriage as that hopeful look in your eyes stirred more in her than any look he’d offered her for years. You were looking at her with something more, something more genuine, and it always managed to stir something deep in her soul, making her crave your presence constantly. You looked at her as though she was the world, eyes filled with memories of love and joy but also agony and heartbreak, bringing up the events of that day and forcing reality back down on her. It was a meeting of changed souls, you weren’t the same person you were twelve years ago and neither was she. You were both forced to move on.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy at the moment,” she tries to excuse herself but you see straight through the lie, the wound on your heart tearing open as she meets your gaze apologetically.

“Please,” you whisper out, lacing your voice with desperation as you needed to talk to her, it tormented you not being able to speak to her, to keep everything bottled inside you, your emotions ready to burst. “Please, just five minutes whenever your free,” you plead, the tone of your voice and that same longing look in your eyes making her relive that heart-breaking moment with you, cracking her composure as she nods, gradually retreating at the sound of the twins entering your garden to distract you.

With a familiar ache settling in your heart, you stare at the back of her as she walks away from you, the twins running over with ecstatic grins on your face, forcing you to wipe off the anxious expression on your face and smile at them playfully, the corner of your lips not quite reaching as high as you wished they would, your mind consumed with the thought of their mother.

***

The next hour or so with the twins passed by much quicker than you expected, the constant laughter spilling from their lips eventually evoking a sense of happiness and delight from you at the amount of fun they were having with you. The three of you gave Lucky an endless amount of affection as you played a variety of games with him, competing with one another to see who could throw a tennis ball the furthest for him to fetch, running around your garden like lunatics whilst playing a version of tag as the bundle of joy liked to chase you all playfully until he became tired, deciding to sit for a little bit after having had a drink, the sound of his lapping amusing to the twins.

The small smile on your lips stretched wider at the way Billy collapsed on the ground next to Lucky, carefully leaning into his body and cuddling with the dog in an adorable manner as Tommy asked to play football with you, somehow still full of energy as he ran around chasing your ‘poor’ passes, unaware at how you were just trying to tire him out.

“I thought you said you were good at football,” Tommy teased whilst he panted for breath, his cheeks flushed red from the exercise as a small amount of sweat built on his forehead, your head shaking, a sign of your amusement as you flicked the ball up in a skilful manner, briefly showing off to the boy.

“I am good,” you chuckled back whilst you passed it straight to his feet, a look of realisation appearing on his face as he laughed, playing a rubbish pass back to you on purpose to make you sprint to catch it as a small act of revenge before he started to ask you to teach him some skills, wanting to be able to do more tricks to impress his friends.

Nodding to his request, you moved closer to him to show him the basics of how to start off doing kick ups more efficiently, your body crouched by his as you held the ball, showing him the motion you wanted it to travel in. You were patient with him as you demonstrated how he should do it with the best form, your smile never leaving your face as he attempted to reach his goal of ten without dropping the ball, his cheeks tinting a darker shade of red as he kept messing up.

“Hey,” you softly murmured as you could tell he was getting embarrassed and shy with how he kept failing, his gaze avoiding yours. “You’ve got this, just keep going, you’ve nearly got it,” you encouraged, trying to reassure him as you offered him a calm and tender smile, patting his back in a motivating way as he took a moment to compose himself before attempting it again.

Too busy watching how Tommy did, you missed how Wanda slowly walked out of her house to check up on the twins, wanting to let them know dinner would be ready soon and observe how you interacted with her children. A smile stretched across her face at the sheer joy on both of their faces as Tommy played with you and Billy with Lucky, the genuine sign of her happiness slowly fading as a lump clawed its way into her throat, her heart clenching painfully at the sight of what she could have had. She could have had a life filled with laughter and love, she could have had someone to call home, someone who would care for the family they’d created together and someone to enjoy life with but she didn’t. She wouldn’t let herself be loved by you, by a woman, so she threw it all away to please her family. Why couldn’t she just admit the truth? She didn’t want any of this, she wanted… No, she couldn’t say it.

She hated the emotions flooding through her, the regret and shame she felt whilst she continued to look at you and reminisce on your past together, your words ringing around in her head almost mockingly. ‘You can’t run away from…this forever’ tormented her thoughts, drowning her in despair as she didn’t want to run anymore, she didn’t want to be scared of what it meant but she just couldn’t accept the truth. It terrified her, she didn’t know how to tread through the uncertainty, insecurity and doubt filling her mind when she even tried to consider her true feelings. It felt like she was lost at sea and she knew whose hand she wished would pull her from the darkness and shame that surrounded her, but she knew that would never happen. It couldn’t happen.

A glimmer of defeat appeared in her eyes as she savoured the sight of the three of you, her heart skipping a beat when you turned your head and met her gaze, her lips attempting to pull up into a soft smile whilst your face morphed into concern, the boys missing the saddened look on their mothers face as they ran over to the fence, wanting their mother to join in on the fun.

“Mom, come and play with us!” they exclaimed enthusiastically, wanting to spend time with her whilst also staying with you, preferring to play with you than sit at home with their father who was too busy to pay them as much attention.

“I’m sorry Dorogie but dinner is ready,” she murmurs, her hand cupping Billy’s cheek as he stands near the fence, disappointment etched on both of their faces, the fact they had to leave you upsetting them a little bit. “You both need to come back now and wash your hands before food,” she continues, a weight pulling on her heart at the dispiritedness of her boys, her eyes cautiously flickering over to your inquisitive gaze, her eyes catching the tender smile on your lips, a little irritated at how much it soothed yet hurt her.

“But I don’t want to go yet,” Tommy mutters, looking at you hopefully, wanting you to help persuade his mother into letting them play longer.

“I’m sorry but your Mom is in charge here,” you say to the boys, not wanting to give them false hope as they begrudgingly start to move, Wanda offering you an appreciative gaze before speaking up,

“If it’s alright with Y/n, I’m sure you two will be able to go over again another time,” she softly says, their faces lighting up at the possibility of doing this again, their heads snapping around to look at you, further brightening at the way you nod in approval. “Now come on, dinner is nearly ready,” she says once more, her motherly tone seeping into her words as the twins swiftly say goodbye to you before spending more time saying goodbye to Lucky, your hand dramatically going to your heart as they run off laughing at your theatrics, a small smile present on Wanda’s face before you turn to her, a tension slowly building in the air as you are finally left alone.

Standing face to face with her after all these years was more daunting than you had imagined, a sudden lump forcing its way into your throat and preventing you from saying anything, your hesitant and uncertain eyes staring at her, seeming to get lost in her enchanting eyes whilst your chest tightened. You longingly gazed at every swirl of green you had memorised that day, your eyes slowly drifting from her green to her other features, truly admiring how much she had changed over the last twelve years. It was odd, looking at her after all this time and noticing how the world had affected her, the way her features had matured, the way her eyes held less hope and naivety in them, a hidden sense of brokenness clear for you and only you to see.

You were both a shadow of your former selves as you simply stared at one another, unsure of what to say as the silence spoke volumes, expressing how old wounds resurfaced for the both of you.

“Wanda…I-” you tried but you couldn’t find the words to describe how you were feeling, to explain to her the mess of thoughts in your head constantly tangling together, making it impossible to think clearly without thinking of her. You sighed in despair, your shoulders slumping slightly as your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her mesmerising green looking just as equally torn and confused as you both failed to find the words to help summarise the years of yearning that coursed through your veins.

“Why?” Is all she can muster out, her voice wavering as you notice her lips trembling slightly, the sight cracking your heart open even more as you see the pain clearly on her face. “Why did you have to come back?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as the words are forced out of her, raw with emotion as she feels tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, her trembling hands coming up to swiftly brush them away.

Her words unsettle something deep inside you, the way that they weren’t laced with anger or venom but heartache and confusion making you feel almost nauseous at how much this hurt you, how much facing your buried feelings tore you apart. It was agonising, realising for definite that she was only avoiding you because it physically hurt her heart to see you again after spending so long desperately trying to forget you, to bury that part of her that she was forever ashamed of.

“I… I had to leave England,” you eventually manage out after taking a deep breath, your mind finally thinking about something other than Wanda, part of you regretting that as the events of the last couple months came flooding back to you, only filling you with more pain and heartache. “It hurt too much to stay,” you whisper after a moment, your thumb subconsciously moving to your ring finger, expecting to twist a small band as it had become a nervous habit, the pad of your thumb simply brushing against bare skin though.

You tear your gaze away from her for a moment, brief memories of your life in the UK flashing through your mind as you remember her, remember how deeply you fell in love with her just for her to throw it all away, to slice open another part of your heart and leave you bleeding out in agony.

When you muster the courage to look at her again, you know she can see the tears threatening to spill, her brows furrowing as curiosity and concern overflow from her expressive green at your troubled state, a sigh escaping you as you owe her at least some explanation, even if you didn’t want to say what had truly happened.

“I was stupid enough to fall in love again,” you whisper, letting out a breathless laugh as you continue, “I thought maybe, just maybe, I could love someone the same way I loved…” Your words trail off as you realise you were about to say ‘you’ to Wanda, her eyes staring at you attentively as her heart pounds against her ribcage, waiting in anticipation at what you were about to say. “I could love someone again but it didn’t work out the way I thought it would,” you mutter out, letting her hear the bitterness in your voice before you take a deep breath, pushing away all the screaming thoughts in your mind. “I just needed to come home,” your voice is small as you look away from her, unsure whether the home you were referring to was Westview or Wanda, the woman standing opposite you somehow still a place of safety despite everything. Why couldn’t you just move on?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back after a moment, staring at her hands as you both struggle to hold the oddly intimate gaze, your lips pulling up into a soft, appreciative smile as you assume she’s referencing what you had recently gone through, missing the underlying regretful tone to her voice. Her eyes were trained on the gold wrapped around her finger, the words that fell from her lips meaning more than you could imagine as she subtly confessed her sorrow for what had happened between you two. She was sorry for everything, for giving into her desires and wanting you, for believing that she could hide the shameful part of her forever, for lying to you… She was sorry for letting you fall for her first, even more apologetic for falling for you harder but never wanting to admit it, knowing it just made things more complicated.

Letting your eyes drift back to her, you watch curiously at the way she stares at her wedding ring, her undecipherable gaze soon switching to exhaustion and annoyance at the sound of a male voice calling her name, interrupting your moment as her eyes flicker to you, trying to savour the last bit of comfort your presence provided.

“Wanda, can you come and serve dinner now?” Vision called from the patio door, his impatient mood evident in his voice as he asked for his wife’s services, the woman in front of you sighing despondently, knowing she had to go back to the life she told herself she needed.

“I have to go now,” she murmurs before offering you a small, forced smile, your body wanting to reach over the fence and grab her hand, to give her some sort of comfort but you stopped yourself, knowing you’d be crossing too many boundaries.

“Wait,” you say, halting her once more as she turns back to face you, clearly reluctant to go inside. “I know it’s not my place to say anything but I’m here for you Wanda,” your voice is tender and soft, wanting her to know that despite everything you still cared for her, earning an appreciative and gentle smile in return, the prominent ache in your chest lifting at the sight of it as she holds your gaze, losing herself in your caring eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers before turning around a final time, leaving you standing in your garden with a small, familiar warmth wrapping around your heart, the idea of slowly being able to mend your broken bond causing the corner of your lifts to tug up into a small, hopeful smile. 

[baeshijima]

another mydei fic in the wips... could this be the one to hit 20k since that jing yuan fic hit the 10k word count...

[tastethesetears]

@weylerweek2023 | Day 8: Free Day - Star Atlas by @anotherbluesunday

[gildeddlily]

we're going to the movies together and I'm giggling in my bed and fantasizing about kissing her neck (she's straight and slightly homophobic)

[tommygotwrittenoff]

guys i am so ready for slow burn buddie. like mutual realizations but they are stupid about it and just act increasingly weird about each other

[corgate-epistolary]

May 5th, 624

(Transcript under the cut) (Read on Ao3 HERE)

[Delivered to Corgate May 6th, 624 – Received by Elowen Vance on May 14th, 624)

[Front of Envelope: Letter was mailed in a brown craft paper envelope tied with natural twine, addressed to:

Elowen Vance Corgate Post Office May 5th, 624

With the return address of:

Eris Mirrows 87 Lancedragon Strt. Avalon

In the top right, there is a sticker depicting an black engraving-style ice cream bowl on a white background, below which are the words “FOR YOUR HEART”.

Back of Envelope: The letter was sealed in mottled red & white sealing wax, with a wax seal depicting a crescent moon surrounded by orbital shapes & stars. Letter was tied with craft twine, with a small treble clef & key tied to the cord. In the bottom left there is a sticker depicting a black engraving-style steaming cup on a white background, below which is the word “BONJOUR”.

Interior pages: Written on mottled medium brown paper. It is lightly, almost invisibly, lined with slightly darker brown lines. In the top center, approximately 1 inch from the top, the words “THANKS FOR LIVING YEARS” can be seen on the paper. The writing is tidy, slightly rounded print in black ink.]

Eris Mirrows, A.Mg. 87 Lancedragon Strt. Avalon

May 5th, 624

Dear Ms. Vance, It is with great pleasure and a hint of surprise that I receive your letter. I did not expect the Corgate post system to be so quick to get your words to me. The simple fact that they have railroad tracks still amaze [sic] me. I do not know how Mg. Hawkins convinced you to move with him to this backwater part of the country without so much as a raise. What you would do for him, I wonder… Or rather, what he would do without you. I am pleased to read that Mg. Hawkins is in his element in the countryside and having a great time. Meanwhile, I have rarely heard Mg. Equlee complain so much as in the past few days. Something about how they will succomb [sic] to boredom without the most entertaining clown in town. I am divided between patting him on the back for the loss of his favorite pastime of picking a fight with your mage, or believing his condescending tone and idly nodding along. I have no doubt that they will

[End of Page 1] [Eris Mirrow’s address & the date appears on all pages, and have been eliminated for clarity]

find a way to piss each other off despite the distance, but I would never dare ruin the sulking of Mg. Equlee; which is the reason I have passed your most sincere apologies with as much dramatics as I could muster. You would, without a doubt, have been a better performer of this trick than I was. I do not know which shocked Mg. Equlee the most; to hear an apology from my mouth or that Mg. Hawkins did not leave a message for them through your letter. Either way, they resumed their theatrics a little less loudly so I suppose it must have worked. For what it is worth, I do share your reservation on this assignment. The Council does not make a habit of sending their greater mages away from Avalon without a reason. I remember on Kathrina Devolee, a good five years back or so, who’s [sic] name had been sullied by dirty rumors of unconventional use of magic, to which the Council had answered with a swift assignment to the North. I do not believe anyone has heard much from her since. (Writing these words, I realize it was indeed you who told me this tale. It goes to show, once again, that you are the ever flowing source of gossip in this part of town. I will do my best to fill the role in your absence, but do not keep your hopes up.)

[End of Page 2]

I have been around Vimes Place to get your satchel back. It was, as you have so helpfully provided, propped on the front table. You will forgive my curiosity as I could not help but wonder exactly what novels you would put alongside such ever-so-important notes. I am unsurprised to find there your classic Aliyah Prestance. I do not remember a time of our lives where you did not carry at least one of [scratch out - “your”] her works. I might’ve shipped a few recommendations of my own in your satchel, so do not be offput [sic] if it seems heavier than you remember it to be. Mg. Equlee was glad to put some complex lock on the whole package, no doubt just a tad more complex than necessary, just to be annoying. I hope you will be able to retrieve the contents fast enough. I will, of course, keep a watchfull [sic] eye on your plants. My green thumb might not be as good as yours but how hard could it be, right? Your plants are safe with me. I hope the countryside treats you well and

[End of Page 3]

that you will keep describing its people and sights in your letter. The world always seems brighter through your eyes, though I ever so wonder where that enthusiasm keeps coming from. I am hopeful that the Coucil [sic] will call you back soon enough. In the meantime, have my good wishes and thoughts.Awaiting your reply, Eris.

[To the right of the signature is a sticker depicting a tiger, a small girl, and a rabbit. The small girl is pulling clothes out of a suitcase the rabbit is sitting on. The art is done in an engraving style, with black lines on a white background.]

[papillonphantasmagoria]

39 - Vol. 9