#she was tossed in the pits and was meant to return to life but a portal opened up as she was brought back

[bluerosefox]

Bellatrix Star

A TaliaxDanny idea that came to me.

Damian, Bruce, and the rest of the bats discover the Talia al Ghul they had been fighting against, the one that cloned her own son, had the clone kill him, plant a control device in him when he broke his spine, etc etc was actually not the real Talia al Ghul.

Turned out Ra's had cloned her and killed the original when she discovered his little plans to take over Damain's body and she confronted him about it. Ra's had to make a clone when after tossing a dead Talia into the pits but never returned (he meant to kill her as a warning, as a "you may be my blood but will not hesitate to end you Talia.") It explains so much to Damian when remembers how out of nowhere his mother changed, her training him changed from harsh to deadly, the soft motherly love she would give him when behind closed doors suddenly stopped, the tales she would spin for him about his father no longer whispered to him for bed.

How this was find out?

Well it's hard to ignore the facts that when your foolish grandfather in his quest for immortality summons an eldritch being known as the Ghost King into the Mortal Realm and uses Damian as a sacrifice while his (not) mother watches emotionless.

When the being appeared, plunging the room from green glowing flames and the glow of the Lazarus Pits into darkness before a cosmos exploded to life, its glowing green eyes snapped open in the stars and stared at them all. Making every single one of them feel small, so very small.

It took a single glance around the room before stopping on the al Ghul's. It's eyes widen before a steel and firm look entered them. Just as quick as the cosmos sprang to life, it suddenly swirled away into a ball, putting them all back into the Lazarus room,and reformed in front of them to a more humanish height and body.

When the body, around the height and build of Batman, was done forming it took a step forward and suddenly as one blinked a man stood in front of them. Or rather floated. Snow white hair that flickered and wisped towards a crown made of fire and ice, glowing green eyes that held none of the madness but all of the power the Lazarus Pits could give. His clothing were tailored made that were tastefully a mixture of black and white with some silvers and greens, clothes fit for a King one would say. The cosmos that once engulfed the room had shifted into a cloak that hanged around his body, on one side more than the other (think like how CW wears his only the hood is down).

This, this was no doubt the Ghost King, he stood tall and regal and made everyone in the room feel the need to look down, to bow ones head for even just a moment. Even Ra's had trouble disobeying the urge to do so.

"Well..." the being said, his voice deep but not as gravely as Batman's was "What an interesting way to meet my In-Laws and Step-Son..."

He has said that as he looked towards the al Ghul's. Damian flinched back with a frown of confusion and disbelief while Ra's looked panicked for a second when the words registered into his mind, meanwhile Talia... looked emotionless and barely even twitched.

"What the fu-?" Someone began only to stop when the King lifted his hand and with a snap of his fingers a green portal appeared, it looked almost like the Lazarus Pits but it felt... cleaner? Less angry?

"My Bellatrix, my warrior star. I believe I've been summoned to your home dimension. And judging by the looks of it your father created a barely functioning Mirror of you and planned on using your son as a sacrifice to me." He spoke out towards the portal before holding his hand out.

A hand appeared from the portal, a slender hand and with green and black painted nails manicure to perfection before someone walked through it as they took hold of the Ghost King's offering hand.

Standing in front of them was another Talia, only this one looked a tad older than the one in the room. She wore clothing that matched the King to a T but even then, as always, Talia looked deadly in it. Beautiful but very deadly. From the heels she wore to the crown upon her head, a crown made of not ice and fire but of stars and black jewels. Her eyes were sharp as she stared at everyone in the room, frown on her painted lips, but her eyes lit with a small soft joy when she saw Damian only for them to turn poisonous when they landed on Ra's and the other Talia nearby.

"I should had know you would had created a Mirror of me instead of admitting to my son you killed me Father." Queen Talia spat out. "The least you could had done was not make my Mirror so cheaply, it doesn't even have a proper soul attached to it."

[forever-rogue]

So I have this idea for a peter x reader. basically reader is really quiet and shes friends with Peter. anyway, she develops feeling for him but doubts that he'll ever feel the same and tries to hide it as much as possible. eventually when Peter tells her his feelings she laughs and thinks it's a joke like "how would u like me?" and Peter slows down sadly and is like "why would u think I'm joking?" and ends with just fluffy fluffy confessions and comfort <3

AN | Oh yes, one of my favorite tropes, aka Peter Parker confesses his love but you’re not buying it❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d known Peter Parker for the latter part of twenty years. 

You’d known that you were in love with him for the last five years. You were pretty sure you’d been in love with him much longer than that, but realization hadn’t dawned on you just yet. 

The revelation had come to you out of the blue one evening when you were at home in your shared apartment, the two of you watching a movie. He didn’t even really do anything special, it just hit as you listened to him comment on random scenes throughout the movie. You were in love with him. 

But just as quickly as you had your breakthrough, you decided to push it to the side, compartmentalized to the back of your mind to decay there. You might have been helplessly in love with him, enamored and enraptured by him, but you would never tell him. 

There was absolutely no way that Peter would ever return your feelings, not even remotely. No, nope, nah. You were his best friend, and that’s all you would ever be. That was your destiny, and while you hated it, you hated the idea of a life without Peter even more. 

So, like some kind of self professed martyr, you decided to live with your secret. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention?” you weren’t, not until Peter was waving his hand in front of your face, but he didn’t need to know that. You turned your attention back to him and gave him a tight lipped smile and even weaker nod. He laughed, sugar sweet and syrupy, “you’re lying!”

“Am not,” you huffed petulantly, poking around the food that was on your plate. Admittedly you’d lost your appetite and zoned out when Peter started talking about Kim from work and how she’d asked him out again. He insisted that he’d turned her down, again, but it didn’t cause that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach to go away, “I couldn’t listen to another word out of your mouth, Parker. The sound alone could put me right to sleep.”

“Oh honey,” he took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair as he appraised you. You felt warm under his intent gaze, avoiding his eyes as you practically stared holes into the table, “we both know that’s not true.”

“How?” you snapped your gaze back to him, and found the most satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t have been friends with me for so long if you really thought that,” he leaned forward and shot you a wink, which caused you to almost melt into a puddle, “right?”

“You’re the worst,” there was nothing but an affectionate lilt in your words, “the absolute worst.”

“But you love me,” you knew it was meant as a friendly comment but you felt like your heart had just plummeted into your stomach. Did he know? He couldn’t know. 

“Whatever,” you took the cloth napkin off your lap and tossed onto the table. You were out at a nice restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines; it would have been easy to assume you were a couple on a date. The waiter had made a comment about what a lovely couple you were, “hurry up so we can get out of here and get home.”

Home. As in your singular home. That’s right; not only were you a fool, you were an absolute fool. One that lived with her best friend that she was secretly in love with. It made things…interesting. But, if anything, it was a good exercise in futility. 

“Pajamas and ice cream?” he asked, as if it was really any question. At least one night a week included a lazy night in watching movies in pajamas and lots of ice cream. You loved that you were able to enjoy such simple things, along with the finer things.

“Duh,” you teased, “now come on, before someone mistakes for a couple again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” there was a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes that almost made you spill your deep, dark secret then and there. 

“Yes,” you lied, biting the inside of your cheek, “the worst!”

Peter said nothing but you could feel him watching you. You were afraid that somehow he would learn all your deepest, darkest secrets. 

You hoped he wouldn’t…you weren’t sure how you’d survive that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the next morning, it was to something that smelled extremely delicious. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, stomach gurgling loudly. You slipped out of bed and pulled on a discarded hoodie - it used to be Peter’s but was now yours - and socks as you padded out into the hallway. 

Noise was coming from the kitchen and your brow furrowed as you walked towards the commotion. Peter’s bedroom door was open which meant that it was definitely him that was the source of all the commotion. Odd. He was usually not an early riser. 

“Pete?” a large vase of daffodils, tulips, and daisies sat on the small kitchen table. Your favorites. The boy was in the kitchen, in a t-shirt and gray joggers (damn him), and moved around to make sure everything was ready at the same time, “what’s all this?”

“Hey babe,” the pet name flowed from his lips like it was a no brainer, like this was all so natural between the two of you. You supposed, in a way, it was, “I’m making breakfast.”

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow and gestured around, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged lightly, “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Peter, that’s…really sweet,” yeah. You weren’t even going to attempt to deny that much, “it looks and smells delicious. And the flowers-”

“Also for you,” this time a sheepish expression crossed his features along with a pretty pink blush, “I just thought you deserved something nice.”

“Is there…it’s not my birthday,” you mused out loud, “it’s not a holiday. So…am I missing something?”

“No,” he considered you for a moment before swallowing thickly, “I just…let me do something nice without the whole interrogation thing!”

“You’re Spider-Man, you should be used to interrogations.”

“Not from you!”

“Well, consider it practice.”

“No, listen, I-” he groaned lightly, swiping a hand over his face, messing up his already roguish hair, “I-I-I-”

“You can’t get all flustered!” you teased, “can’t let the enemy know you’re weak!”

“I’m not-”

“Petey,” you laughed softly, enjoying the little back and forth banter, “I’m just teasing. No need to get so worked up. Look, I’m going to go-”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And shower before breakfast,” the two of you spoke at the same time, but you heard each other loud and clear. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks, flustered and wanting to disappear, “w-why would you say that?”

“What?” he looked confused. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, “what do you mean?”

“I was just teasing you, but you don’t have to be cruel,” you felt tears already welling up as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying, “why would you be so mean?”

“How? I don’t…what?”

“Why would you tease me and say you loved me?” despite your best efforts the tears had welled up and rolled down your face, “I was just messing around, but that’s…hurtful.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” a look of pure panic crossed his features as he shook his head, “why would I just say that? I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it. Honey-”

“You don’t love me,” you threw up your hands in exasperation, “not like that. You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend too,” he took a step closer and you took one back, “and I do love you as you my best, but you’re so much more than that. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you insisted, unable to wrap your head around the fact that he might be telling the truth, “why would you be in love with me? I’m just…me.”

“That’s why I’m in love with you!” he wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be, but he wasn’t fully expecting this one, “I’ve been in love with you for years! Have you really never noticed?”

“You’re just being a good friend,” were asking him or telling him? You weren’t entirely sure, “you don’t love me! You could never love me. I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything,” but you weren’t listening to him anymore. You were shaking your head, absentmindedly brushing your tears out of your face as you stumbled towards your bedroom. 

“No, please just stop,” you insisted. You ducked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut before locking it. Realistically, if he really wanted to get in it would have been a breeze for him. 

He called your name a few more times before you heard his retreating footsteps go back to the kitchen. All you could think to do was to climb into bed and get under the covers. Dealing with anything - what he had said and what you had said - seemed like the last thing you wanted to think about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At some point you woke up from the stress and sadness nap you had taken and found that the sun was shining brightly into the room.  You looked at your phone with a groan when you saw that it was the middle of the afternoon.

Hesitantly you dragged yourself out of bed, again, and slinked towards the door, sticking your ear to it and listening for any signs of life, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker. This would be one of the times it would have been handy to have his enhanced senses, but even with your regular old human abilities, you were sure he wasn’t home. 

With a sigh of relief you opened the door and walked back into the crime scene; the kitchen looked exactly as it had when you’d found Peter in it earlier. He must have left to give you space after your little - okay big - freak out. He’d always been good with boundaries and giving you space when needed.

Part of you almost wished he was here. The flowers on the table were almost taunting you, and you walked over to them, gently touching over their petals. Of course he knew your favorite flowers, he got them for you…kind of a lot now that you were thinking about it. He knew you inside out, better than anyone else, and sometimes you were convinced that he knew you better than you knew yourself. 

You stepped into the kitchen and started to clean things up, putting dishes in the sink and other stuff away. The thought that Peter had touched each and everyone of these things provided a sense of relief. 

Peter often did these sorts of things. He doted on you, you would absolutely admit this, but you’d always chalked it up to his friendly nature. But then…he wasn’t like this with his other friends. He was openly affectionate, yes, but with you it was different. You thought about the fact that he never went on dates with anyone - he would always turn them down, including Kim from work. The few times you’d gone on a date he always seemed upset, even if he tried to suggest otherwise. Huh.

People often asked if the two of you were dating, but you always gave them the same answer: platonic friends with a capital P. It sucked sometimes, especially when you knew that women, and men, practically threw themselves at Peter.

You thought back on all the things he did for you, all the days, nights, and weekends you’d spent together through the years and oh. Oh. 

“Oh,” you whispered the singular word out loud to yourself, halfway through washing a plate when it hit you. 

Peter hadn’t been lying; he was telling you the truth. The truth had been so obvious and right in front of you the entire time.

You wanted to curl up and vanish. Not only had you accused him of lying and only loving you as a friend, you’d run out on him and refused to talk to him like a stubborn child. All you could do was hope that you hadn’t ruined everything. 

When you were finished cleaning up the mess from earlier, you made a mental plan. Maybe he wouldn’t believe you or forgive you, but it was worth a shot like a sort of romantic hail mary. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter spent the better part of the day out of the apartment, opting to go and work in his office. His mind was reeling and the only way he could think to get it to quiet down was to throw himself into his work. He hoped that by the time he got home you would be willing to talk to him, or at the very least you wouldn’t run from him. 

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen making dinner as you sang along to whatever record you threw on the vintage player. You’d gifted it to him a few years ago on his birthday after you’d seen him eyeing it about a hundred times. It was just one of the many ways you showed him love. He’d fallen even more in love that day. 

“Hello?” he asked timidly as he kicked off his sneakers by the door. On the table next to the flowers he’d gotten for you, was another vase, this one filled with daisies and sunflowers; his favorites…because they reminded him of you. 

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned around, bracing yourself for about a million different possibilities. 

“Hi Pete,” you held up your hands in a meek little wave, feeling your flush furiously, “listen-”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“W-wait,” a pretty pout settled on your lips. He wanted to kiss you until it went away and was replaced with a smile, “what are you sorry for?”

“For making you uncomfortable,” he shrugged nervously, “I didn’t think what I said would come across so…like it did. I thought you knew, or at least kind of knew, how I felt. I thought maybe you felt the same and it was finally time to tell you. That didn’t land well obviously.”

“Peter,” whenever you said his name like that it made him want to melt into a puddle. 

There were a million things you wanted to say, but couldn’t think of anything. Nothing seemed quite adequate or strong enough to convey the amount of love you held for the man in front of you.

You walked the few remaining steps over and stopped right in front of him, both of you staring at each other intensely. 

You reached up to touch his face, your hand resting on his cheek. You leaned up and closed the little bit of remaining distance, pressing your lips against his. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was happening, and when he did, his hands settled on your waist, and pulled you ever closer into his body. 

Kissing Peter left so natural, so right, like you’d been doing it forever. There was no learning curve - the two of you already know each other so well - no awkward fumbling or misses. It just…was. 

And kissing him was addicting. Now that you knew what it was like, you never wanted to stop. You wanted him all over you, all the time, forever.

But eventually you needed a breath of air and reluctantly pulled apart. You found him watching you like you were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen (you were). 

“I’ve been in love with you for a very, very long time,” you admitted softly, causing his eyes to lit up, “I just never thought…you’ve always been my best friend and I was convinced you’d never want more. So I never said anything.”

“I’ve always wanted more - I want everything,” he took your face in his hands, cradling it delicately as he studied, “it’s always been you.”

“I thought that I was just me, and I’d never be good enough for you. And then I thought maybe you found out how I felt and you were teasing me,” it seemed really silly saying it out loud. 

“I would never do that,” you knew he wouldn’t. Your own self doubt had you convinced of all the wrong things, “I meant it all. I’ve always meant it.”

“I thought about it while you were gone,” it was a soft confession that had you giving him a shy smile, “and I realized it was always so obvious.”

“It’s been terribly obvious,” he agreed as you exchanged soft laughs.

“Terribly,” you agreed, “will you forgive me for how I acted earlier?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he insisted, sweet and saccharine, “can I kiss you more?”

“I would-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, you smelt something burning and turned around to find your pain on fire. You panicked while Peter fell into action, taking the pan off and setting it in the sink before getting the fire out. It was just one of the many ways in which you complimented each other perfectly. 

“Anyway, you were saying?” He had the biggest, silliest smile on his face as the kitchen filled with the smell of burnt food. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all...and then the smoke alarm went off.

“You can kiss me anytime,” you finally got to say what you had wanted to, shouting slightly over the alarm before the two of you dissolved into laughter, “I love you, Peter Parker. Really.”

“I really love you, honey bee.”

[chaosfae-writes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

synopsis; a tender moment away from the chaos.

pairing; Alicent Hightower x brown!Targaryen!reader

a/n; a drabble for my love, mine all mine. requested by a lovely mutual from ao3. fluff for my gay mothers. they deserve it.

It’s a miracle from the Seven that the raven hasn’t been struck dead by the heat of Alicent’s eyes.

A letter has arrived, hailing from Dragonstone. Princess Rhaenyra declares her soon return to King’s Landing—- the note wrinkles under Alicent’s fingers.

It has been two months.

Two months since the incident with Vaemond—- who broods in his self-pity. He's been a sore thumb, he doesn’t quite mesh well in the king’s court. He reeks of the sea, and his insistence of traveling to Driftmark has not ceased.

Rhaenyra, nor Laenor doesn’t have any inkling that Alysanne has been born. Alicent has relished in her selfishness, savoring all her time with Alysanne, and you.

Even in the past days, Vaemond has barely held Alysanne—- Alicent ensured of that. Now the Realm’s Delight is to return and soil Alicent’s life once more.

A dread burdens Alicent’s mind as she tosses the letter in the fire’s pit, watching it smolder to ash within the flames.

Alicent worries. She worries that Rhaenyra will meddle. Snatch Alysanne under the guise of a doting aunt—- and her plain featured sons mingling with Alysanne, Alicent scoffs under her breath.

A sinking sensation caves inside Alicent’s cavity, her footfalls faltering.

Mutely Alicent enters her chambers, moving in the silence as a mouse.

Her quarters are warm, provided heat from the burning hearth. Thankfully, the windows are shielded by the floor-length double curtains—- white and green. A comforting dimness casts upon Alicent. Candles are lit, providing a dew hue.

A spacious chamber, meant for the queen, her only reprieve. In the corner, is a cradle with toys.

Sniffling as her shaky fingers unclip her earrings—- she stops in her tracks.

On her massive bed, there lay three sleeping lumps huddled.

Alicent quietly steps closer to the bed, a small tender smile curls at her lips. Sunk into the massive stitched quilts, pale and sepia arms interlocked—- and tucked in the middle is a small bundle with short tuft of silver, and chubby brown curling fists.

Helaena rests to the left, as you lay asleep on the right of the mattress. Alysanne stretches her small arms, and settles back in her sleep.

Alicent is grateful that you can understand Helaena—- and be her comfort. Helaena is a painfully shy, and odd child, but she is Alicent’s pride and joy.

That Targaryen strangeness, how sweetly you would coddle Helaena as a little duckling. Especially, when Helaena would get fussy, you always calmed her down.

It’s only you that Alicent fully trusts with her children, how you helped her when she didn’t feel any bond with them when they were freshly born.

Eased the burden of motherhood, let her rest when the children got too rambunctious, and she felt the threads of her sanity snapping.

Alicent quietly sits at the edge, her hand finding rest on your hip, caressing you through the embroidered quilt. A sweet sight that calms Alicent, the stresses melting away from her skin.

Alicent’s hand leans to Alysanne’s little chest, feeling her breathing under her palm. Her finger stroking the plump cheek, her small sleepy huffs. Moving to Helaena’s silver head, curling her hair behind the shell of ear.

Alicent’s body yearns to rest, she stands to get up for her vanity.

Alicent tugs on the emerald fabric, undressing and freeing her flesh. The dress falls in a wrinkled bundle by her feet, leaving her in her undergarment sheath.

Walking to her dresser, as she untangles the gold ringlets from her thick waves. One by one, removing the rings on her fingers —- all but one.

The one you gifted her, on that day on Dragonstone. Alicent can still feel the warmth of the sun, and the sweet whispers of shared vows. She twirls the bejeweled ring between her finger tips, a small smile curls.

Bare from jewelry and confining lace, thick waves of curls bounce down to the nape of spine, Alicent’s eyes gaze through her mirror—— catching yours in the reflection.

She hums a giggle. With a grace to her step, Alicent walks to the bed. Curling under the quilt, you gaze at Alicent sleepily. Cuddling Helaena’s little body to her chest, Alicent interlocks her ankles with yours.

You can tell by the way Alicent’s eyes droop that she’s been thinking too hard —- worrying too hard.

Tenderly, your knuckles graze Alicent’s cheek. “What ails you, my dearest?” The pad of your thumb soothes under her eye, cupping her face. Alicent holds your hand in hers, eyes closing with a dejected sigh.

For a split second, you stare at her red cuticles.

“Nothing of importance.” Alicent says, kissing your wrist. “The council’s insistent bickering over the realm.” She swallows.

It pains Alicent not to be honest with you, but your love for your sister has not yet simmered. She intends to keep you away from Rhaenyra as long as she can, hoping that a distance can be reached between your eldest sister and yourself.

Not only for yourself, but for Alysanne’s future.

“As the Princess, I order you to stay,” both of you giggle quietly. “I command the Queen’s presence.”

“Ah, how could I disobey an order?” Alicent jests. A happy toothy smile. A comfortable heat encases you both. Alicent plays with Alysanne’s soft tuft of hair.

“How did they fair the day?” Alicent asks.

“They fell asleep rather quickly,” you say, looking at the girls adoringly. “Helaena was excited to show Alysanne her toy bugs.”

Alicent scrunches her nose, “I prefer the wooden ones, I found one crawling near my dresser.” You suck in your lips, to stifle the laugh that rips in your chest, shaking.

Alicent tuts, “Pray to the Gods, you don’t discover a beetle dancing in your sheets.” She speaks through a laugh, her smile wanton now. Her cheeks glowing.

Small conversations, and a few kisses flowed through the hour. Within the noon, all fell in slumber, hugging in embrace.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 1

read on ao3! (111k words) | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Story summary: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 1: ‘Marked for Death’

Death coated the back of Juliet’s throat.

This was not unusual. The aroma of rot and decomposition was commonplace in the body disposal department of the Boston QZ. However, if Juliet could actually taste it simmering on her tongue, it meant one thing: she needed a new mask. 

The threadbare fabric tied tight around her nose and mouth was singed earlier in the day when her shift partner tossed a body, with more force than necessary, into the large fire pit in the middle of the square. A few wayward sparks had settled on her mask, gradually burning through the cheap material. 

Juliet often wondered how the sickly sweet smell of decay could still remain when fire and smoke cleansed the air.

It didn’t surprise her, though: death always lingered. 

It was hour eight of her usual Tuesday shift. One more hour and Juliet could collect her ration cards, find her way to the nearest fabric stall then drag herself back to her tiny apartment. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her today, settling in her bones and restricting her movements. Her shift followed a pattern: walk to the loading truck, pick up a body, place it in the fire and try not to look as the skin blackened and blistered. 

The same task, the same people, every week, every month and every year of her residence in the Boston QZ. Every day was a repeat of the previous but she was safe and she was hidden, which was all she could hope for. 

More bodies, more fire and her shift was over. Another day completed. Juliet used the stained fabric of her t-shirt to wipe the ash from her hands and forehead as she joined the ration queue. She was in line behind Joel Miller, a man who had worked at body disposal as long as she had, probably longer actually.

Tall, with broad shoulders and dark brown hair speckled with grey and ash, Joel Miller towered above her with more than his height. He was impressive, intimidating. Juliet watched as he stretched his neck to the side and wiped the sweat beading on his skin, his shoulders were tight, his stance solid. 

Joel had a presence difficult to ignore, being around him always felt like the air had a little less oxygen, as though he took up a bit more space than everyone else. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, just a few grunts and hard instructions grumbled under his breath to whoever was partnered with him on shift. 

Juliet found herself drawn to Joel, despite their lack of interactions. Her eyes would follow his movements as they worked, observing his cool indifference as he performed their grim duty. She would notice him around the QZ, too. He was a ghostly presence, often found haunting street corners and disappearing in a blink of an eye. 

Juliet knew little about Joel, only that he sold drugs to her weird neighbour who had drunkenly offered her some while attempting to break into her apartment the other night. She added another lock to her door after that.

“Next!” barked the ration officer, shaking Juliet from her thoughts. 

She took a step forward and watched as Joel disappeared around the corner, shuffling ration cards in his smoke covered hands. Juliet wondered if he, too, had grown entirely numb to their gruesome occupation.

Juliet wondered if something worse, something more ghastly, haunted his daily life. 

After collecting her ration cards and buying a new mask, Juliet made her way home to her crumbling one bedroom apartment. Home was perhaps a strong word, what with its peeling twenty-year wallpaper, mould stained ceilings and less than ideal neighbours. But it was her’s. 

Turning the corner onto her street, Juliet’s eyes landed on a hunched form on the front step of her building. Juliet let out a sigh, quickened her steps and forced a smile onto her face. Margaret was waiting for her.

Margaret was her eighty-five year old neighbour who lived on the bottom floor of their building. She enjoyed long conversations, hard liquor, and gossiping about the inner workings of her neighbour's lives. 

“Juliet!” Margaret gasped out.

“Hi, Margaret,” Juliet called as she approached, her plastered smile beginning to falter as Margaret struggled to stand.

Juliet moved to hold the woman’s frail arms, she was frantic, her hands grasping at Juliet’s shoulders, desperate to gain her full attention.

“No, you must listen,” Margaret began, before doubling over, releasing a series of strangled coughs and gasps.

“Someone,” she coughed. “Someone was here…” croaked Margaret while pointing her shaking hand behind her, towards the door. 

“What? Who?” Juliet asked, she had never seen Margaret so panicked before. 

“Oh it was awful,” Margaret began, once again clutching Juliet’s arms, her arthritic fingers formed in a vice-like grip. 

“I was knitting at my dining table, working on my sweater… I must show you Juliet, it’s looking so wonderful, I used…”

“Stay focused,” Juliet interrupted, her voice soft and pleading. “What happened?”

“Yes! So, then I heard what sounded like someone marching through the hallway,” Margaret continued, her words quick and tense. 

“I knew it wasn’t yourself or Kenny because you were both working. So I got up and looked out my peep-hole.” Margaret’s voice had grown quieter, now almost a whisper.

“And I watched as two men with dark jackets walked past my door and headed upstairs”

“Next thing I know, I hear this horrendous crash. Now, I know it must have been bad because I could hear it! And you know how terrible my hearing is.”

Shock covered Juliet’s features, their apartment building had always been quiet, always lucky to avoid the crime raging the Boston QZ. 

“Did you see them leave?” Juliet asked, her voice urgent.

“Yes, thank god,” Margaret answered. “But dear… I think it was your apartment they went into, and by the sound of it, they surely broke down the door.”

Fuck, Juliet thought. Her heart now feverishly pumping the familiar blaze of fear throughout her body. “Stay here,” Juliet ordered, her voice hard as she moved to release her arms from the old woman’s grip. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Please be careful,” Margaret urged, clasping her hands together in a silent prayer. 

Stepping into the building, Juliet paused, listening. So familiar with the hum of her neighbours’ usual routines, Juliet could recognise any foreign noise. But no sound was unusual, nothing was amiss… that she could hear anyway. 

Feeling somewhat certain no strangers were lurking in the building, ready to emerge from a dark corner and grab her, Juliet decided to keep moving.

Climbing the steps to the first floor, her body was on high alert; any weariness from her gruelling shift was gone, adrenaline now coated her muscles. Only a sharp, steady focus remained. 

Reaching her apartment, Juliet stopped, her feet frozen. The door lay open with three of her four locks fractured, surrounded by splintered wood and chipped paint. The fourth lock lay on the floor by her feet, where it must have fallen after being brutally pried from the door. Juliet felt a sinking feeling deep in her gut. Each lock had become an emblem of her security in the Boston QZ. Now they were shattered. A stark reminder that her safety was never guaranteed. 

Juliet reached out, her fingers grazing the fractured wood as she gingerly pushed the door all the way open, moving into her apartment. A deep breath and a long exhale later, Juliet stood in her dining area, eyes now locked on a piece of folded paper on her kitchen table. 

She moved closer, Juliet’s body had lost its stamina, her limbs weighed her down. Each step towards the yellowed piece of paper was like wading through dark, chilled water. 

When she was close enough to recognise the handwriting, everything stilled. The air, the room, her beating heart… all slowing around her. A chorus of no, no, no, no, no, surged through her mind, spiralling inward, forming a shield around the memories threatening to resurface at the sight of that familiar scrawl. 

One hand gripped the edge of the table, tangled in the tablecloth, while the other tentatively lifted the paper. ‘My sweet Juliet’ it read in writing she knew so intimately it could have been etched on her heart. Carved with a sharp, brutal knife. 

A high pitched ringing enveloped her mind, numbing all sound apart from the echo of her shallow breaths. Juliet’s ash caked fingernails traced the edge of the worn paper, she pulled it apart to reveal a message: 

‘Juliet, 

How does it feel living so far from home? Surrounded by strangers. 

I admit I was shocked that night you left, I wondered what more you could desire, out in the wasteland of our world, that I had not provided you with? I imagine you have come to the conclusion, by now, that there is nothing else worth living for than the love of our lord. You see, I have eyes and ears in places you could never imagine. My men know the power of our lord and live with his blessing every day. I sent these men to find you, Juliet. I sent them to bring you this message. 

I have your friend Ethan in my care now, he has taken your place until you return to me. I have every hope that will be soon my dear, Juliet. He, too, screams when the judgement of our lord is upon him.  

Travel safely; the lord does not bless the sinners of this earth, 

Your father.’  

Ethan… No.  

Three years, three blissful years only focused on her own survival, liberated from the torture of her childhood. She left Ethan behind, she thought he would be safe. She was wrong, so very wrong.

Why, though, had her father waited so long to find her? To threaten her with Ethan’s safety? His life? She must have hidden well, burrowed herself so deep in the mundane of everyday QZ life, that even her father’s men, dotted about the country, had not found her for three years. 

Yet now her nameless existence had come to an end, slaughtered in a matter of seconds. Juliet’s hand clenched, crushing the paper within her palm. 

She had to go back. For Ethan, she would go back. 

The thought alone made her choke on her breath, gasping for air in the silent room.

Experience had taught her not to take her father’s threats lightly. 

Her journey to Boston was monstrous. Juliet witnessed sights which forever scarred the insides of her eyelids, appearing before her on dark and sleepless nights. Could she travel that distance again? Alone? Knowing what’s out there? No… she would die and so would Ethan. 

Juliet stumbled to her moth-eaten couch and sank into the decaying cushions. She reached her shaking hands to her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, pushing harder until only a dark nothingness remained. Her life in the Boston QZ was over…for Ethan she would return to the man who haunted her every step, his existence always reminding her she would never be fully free. 

Reluctance acceptance washed over her. For Ethan she would return to her prison, almost assuredly never to escape again. 

Removing her hands from her eyes, Juliet released a trembling sigh. Accepting her powerlessness brought a distance from her emotions. The thought of Ethan and the immediacy of the situation had started to drown out her terror and regret, leaving behind a cold numbness. 

In her emotionless stupor, Juliet started to plan her way out of the QZ.

A loose floorboard hid a map and a variety of makeshift weapons, including a switchblade which Juliet liked to keep sharp. Both were now on the coffee-table before her, Juliet hunched over the map tracing her journey with the tip of her blade.

There was one problem she couldn’t solve: this was not a journey she could make alone. Juliet survived her journey to Boston on sheer luck and willpower. She would risk her own life, but not Ethan’s. She had to get there alive.

Her blade stilled, its tip pierced through the rough paper into the hardwood table. Juliet’s racing thoughts had settled on the one person she knew had both spent a significant amount of time outside of the QZ and had a route out…

Joel Miller. 

Fuck.

[ghostofskywalker]

Congrats on the followers!!!!! I love your work! No pressure to write anything. I'd love to make a request to participate in your celebration but I honestly can't think of one right now.

Surprise me! Only if you feel up to it and have time. <3 thanks for all the sweet and amazing content you put out!!!

Congrats again <3

you are so lovely, thank you so much!! here is a little bit of echo fluff for you :)

words: 1,427

summary: It's clear that you and echo have feelings for each other, but it takes the meddling of the bad batch's sniper for you to actually do something about it.

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Daydreams and Jealousy

Three suns gleamed high in the sky as the Bad Batch took a much needed vacation day from the rest of the galaxy. There was a priceless treasure for one of Cid’s clients hidden away in the hull of the Marauder, but the whole operation had taken less than a rotation when they had been given four, so it seemed that a pit stop was in order. 

Crosshair took in the sights of the unfamiliar planet as he stepped off the ramp. Previously he had been content to stay in his bunk all day while the others did whatever they wanted, but the stale smell of the ship had become too much (one would think they would clean more with Omega on board, but it never turned out that way). 

Wrecker was currently playing with a small group of  loth-cats, laughing loudly as the animals ran circles around him. Tech was watching the scene unfold with great interest, occasionally tossing out facts about the life cycles and mating practices of the felines, even though Wrecker wasn’t really listening.

You and Omega were curled up together under a tree, snoozing quietly. Omega’s head had fallen onto your chest and your arms were around her, both of you breathing steadily as you napped. There was a datapad sitting on the ground next to where your hand had come to rest, so Crosshair guessed that you had been reading to the young girl before the two of you had fallen asleep. The hard bark of the tree didn’t look too comfortable in his opinion, but for the last few weeks it felt like everyone had been running non stop, so he understood the tendency to fall asleep anywhere. 

He walked over to Hunter and sat down next to him. It hadn’t been that long since he had left with his brothers instead of returning to the Empire, and while he didn’t feel as though they resented him for the choices he made while under the influence of the inhibitor chip, his relationship with Hunter was the slowest to repair. However, just the other day, Hunter had teased Crosshair over something silly, and the sniper hoped that it meant things were truly looking up. “You finally left the cave to get some fresh air, huh?” 

“Yeah, I figured I’d come join the fun out here.” 

“That’s good, or I would have sent Omega in there to come get you.” 

Crosshair smiled. “I don’t think she would have done that.” 

“I don’t know, even though Tech says I’m her favorite, I think she likes all of us equally,” Hunter said. “Even you.” 

“I’m surprised you’re not a little jealous right now,” Crosshair said. 

His brother looked confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re not the one cuddling with her, are you?” Crosshair responded, nodding over to where you and Omega were still fast asleep. “She may have a new favorite after today.” 

Hunter playfully rolled his eyes before responding. “If you’re looking for jealousy, maybe you should talk to Echo. I think he’s feeling a little envious of Omega right now.”

Both men turned their gaze over to Echo, who was sitting out of earshot of their conversation. He was attempting to read something on his datapad, but his gaze kept flickering over to where you were asleep against the tree. Crosshair turned to Hunter. “He really is lovesick, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “And it’s a little embarrassing because she’s also in love with him, he’s just too blind to see it.” 

Crosshair just nodded, his mind mulling over the details and wondering how easy it would be to get you and Echo to confess to each other. He needed some entertainment on this damn ship anyway. 

***

A few weeks later, you found yourself tossing and turning in your bunk. Why was it so kriffing cold in here all of a sudden? You knew hyperspace travel wasn’t exactly like vacationing on Scarif, but the ship was supposed to be equipped with a heating system to combat that. 

You sighed as you realized it was probably the heating system that went offline or malfunctioned, and you would be stuck like this until the next morning, when Tech could take a look at everything. Jealous of everyone else (for being able to stay asleep through all this), you tossed and turned a little more, and you were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t hear your name being softly called. 

Immediately terrified that you had accidentally woken someone up, you looked out to see Echo sitting up in his bunk, a single blanket wrapped around him. “Did I wake you?” you asked softly.

He shook his head. “No, I just saw that you were awake and wanted to know if you knew what was wrong.”

“My guess is that it’s something with the heating system,” you asked. “But that means we’ll be stuck freezing until Tech can take a look at it.” 

“I thought we had some extra blankets lying around here,” Echo said as he got off his bunk and looked around. With the way the rest of the batch was asleep and he couldn’t turn on the light, it didn’t look like a very fruitful search. “Wait! I found one!” 

A smile spread across your face when Echo brought the prize into view, but soon you were faced with a new predicament. “Which one of us gets the blanket?” you asked. 

“I’ll see if I can find another one,” Echo said, but after a few more minutes of rifling through the various storage areas of the ship, he came up with nothing. 

“You found the blanket, you keep it,” you said, not wanting him to feel like he had to give up the blanket for you. “I’ll be fine for the night.”  

“No, I couldn't do that,” he said. “You should take the blanket.” 

“No, that’s not fair.” 

“I couldn’t let you freeze to death.” 

Taking a deep breath, you offered up another solution. “What if we shared it?” When he stared at you like a startled tooka, you elaborated. “We can share my bunk for the night. Between the one blanket we each have and the extra you found, it should be enough to keep us warm.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Echo asked. “My prosthetics can’t exactly be the most comfortable things to sleep next to.” 

“Echo, it’s fine,” you said. “Cuddling up to you will always be better than freezing all night.” You almost wished you could take those words back as you said them, not because you didn’t think they were true, but because you weren’t sure if he had planned on snuggling up together and you didn’t want to scare him off. 

But thankfully, your statement was well received by him, and he nodded. Once the blankets were stacked up on your bunk, Echo slipped into bed beside you, and you couldn’t help but smile. He still ran warmer than you did, and the feeling of that warmth, plus the blankets you had on top of you far outweighed any chill you received from touching his prosthetics. 

Instinctively, you found yourself curling up against him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Is this okay?” you asked quietly. “I don’t want-”

“Mesh’la,” Echo cut you off. “It’s more than okay.” 

You just nodded, already feeling your eyes grow heavier. The feeling of falling asleep next to him was one that you had only ever dreamed of, and now you were getting to experience it (if only because the heating was broken). “What does that mean?” you asked sleepily. 

“Mesh’la?” Echo asked, and you nodded. “It means beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Of course,” he responded. “And I’ve been trying to pull together the courage to make a move on you, I guess it was the heating system that finally got me to do something.” 

“I think you’re amazing,” you said. “And I’d really like this sleeping arrangement to continue even after the heating is fixed.” 

Echo laughed as he leaned down to place a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I want to stay like this too.”

The two of you fell asleep not long after, curled in each other’s arms. 

And the next morning, when Crosshair returned from the cockpit and went to catch some sleep, he just smiled when he saw you and Echo all cuddled up together. Hunter now owed him some credits, and hopefully Tech doesn’t realize that it was him that was tampering with the ship’s heating system.

- the end - 

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[ikemenlibrary]

The Beast in the Nighttime (Ikemen Prince)

Pairing: Licht Klein x MC (Belle) Summary: The beast that has lain dormant for so long finally allows himself to feel something.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst, pining, general Licht and Nokto Lore spoilers, any warnings that can come from Licht's route can also be implied here

A note from the author: A quick thank you to @readerinsertfanfiction and @justtuesdays for beta reading this even when you're not in the fandom and letting me know when things didn't make sense LOL. This takes place the first night Licht keeps watch over Belle in his route, based on something he said in his dramatic route ending. The thought of him sitting there pining after her night after night, the conflicting thoughts that swirled around in his head and heart was too much for me to handle, and I needed to write it out.

She was innocent. 

Almost too innocent, if Licht had any say in the matter. And now he did have a say, since he was designated to be Belle’s bodyguard during her stay in the palace. Leon, Chevalier, and Sariel had all came upon the agreement that he was best suited to keep watch over her and although Licht knew he could’ve refused, could’ve kept her held back at arms length, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn’t go away until he agreed to keep her safe.

He didn’t trust his brothers with her; she was so innocent, so naive, like a lamb in a field munching on grass while a horde of carnivores circled her menacingly. A quick flash of eye contact was all it would take before one of them pounced on her, ready to ravage in the dark confines of the night.

At least Licht could contain himself.

That’s what he told himself, and yet, as she tossed and turned in her bed only a few feet away, Licht found himself wishing he could close the distance between them and bury himself into the comforting warmth of her arms. He wanted to feel the compassion she had coursing through her veins and although it was selfish, he wanted to confide in her about what had happened with Mama when he was a child. Maybe then - finally - she would understand why he hated her, why he did things to keep her far away from him. She would understand why he was a man who wasn’t meant to be adored, but a man sentenced to a life of solitude and atonement. But more importantly, Licht secretly hoped she would hold him to her, bathe him in her sunlight, and offer to help carry the burden that he’s kept alone all these years.

And that thought made him sick to his stomach.

Licht Klein was a man of his word, and he promised he’d never let anyone get close enough to him to be hurt again. So nothing else would happen like all those years ago, on that fateful night when his family was torn apart by his own bloodstained hands. So why was it that every time he pushed her away, the pained look on her face only made him feel worse? Why was it that every time she sent a bright smile in his direction that his heart and stomach twisted, making Licht want to return to his dark room and cry himself to sleep, like he’d spent countless nights before when he was younger. He hadn’t cried in years.

No matter what he did in regards to Belle was safe; being near her was painful, and so was being away from her. 

Licht hadn’t been so reliant on someone’s company since he and Nokto were little, carefree and happy before Mama- No, no don’t think about it. Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry after what you did. And so he blinked away the tears that had sought solace in his eyes, and instead opted to let his gaze fall upon her. The rise and fall of her chest was almost comforting as he matched his breathing to hers, until his mind started wandering once again, to a conversation he had partaken in with Rio and Belle just a few hours before.

Once it had been decided that Licht was to guard Belle every night, he had told himself that he’d stay outside, only acknowledging her with a nod and quick eye contact, and then continue on with his duties the next day with nothing else left to say. But she was so insistent that he couldn’t stay outside, using the excuse that she wouldn’t sleep well knowing Licht was standing in the cold hallway all night. Personally, Licht didn’t mind. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever done to himself - in fact, he does far, far worse in the dark confines of his bedroom whenever that aching pull in his stomach starts to throb - but, he disliked the thought of her being uncomfortable, and so he had agreed to join her in her room every night.  

Rio had made a comment about how unsavory it was that she was inviting a man into her room every night, and Licht couldn’t forget the way her cheeks flushed and she avoided eye contact, saying it was fine because it was only Licht. She trusted him to not do anything unmentionable, and if she trusted him - if it wasn’t him who was watching over her - then who else would she invite into her room without any thought? He was doing it for her protection, and that was the only reason. Licht was just doing his duty; he was protecting someone he cared about, just as he had done when he shoved Nokto behind them and faced Mama with his blade. It didn’t make him feel any better though, not when these emotions were making him feel as fragile as his caged away heart.

She turned over, restless. Although she would never admit it, Licht knew she didn’t sleep well, her subconscious fretting over the fact he was sitting only a few feet away. That stubborn woman who fought so hard to get him to agree to come into her room, if only so he was comfortable while being on guard, would rather put his comfort over her own, and that realization brought a dull ache to Licht’s chest. This is why he wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - let her get any closer. It only hurt her as much, if not more, than it hurt himself. All he ever did was bring pain to the people he cared about the most.

Just like earlier, he quietly, swiftly, crossed the room. Perching himself on the side of her bed further away from the window - so the moonlight wouldn’t shine on his face and break him out of the trance he was currently in. Just like earlier, he slowly, clumsily, hesitantly moved the hair away from her sweaty forehead, caressing her smooth skin wrinkled with worry and he hastily pushed away the thought creeping in to lean down and kiss away the frown lines where her eyebrows had pinched together. Licht’s voice was soft as he started humming, the song Mama had used to sing to comfort him when he was crying over the pain Nokto took. Nokto took the pain for him, and in turn, Licht cried the tears that Nokto refused to. He used to be quick to laugh, and even quicker to cry, but after Mama died, he realized he didn’t deserve those emotions, and quickly shoved everything he had once felt under lock and key, buried deep inside his chest where the black hole continued to grow each passing day.

Her restless movements stilled as his hand traced from her forehead down to her cheek, and he wished he had taken off his gloves. Licht longed to feel her smooth skin on his worn hands, the hands that didn’t deserve to touch her the way he currently was. The hands that he vowed to never give to anyone else again, lest he brings pain once more. Yet here he was, quickly removing his gloves, his gentle fingers once again ghosting over her cheek. Human contact, after so long. He welcomed it as his heart burned with pain, each of his movements drawing more fire in his chest. He continued humming as he traced the slope of her upturned nose, the same nose that he’d seen her frown at in a mirror as they walked past it in a hallway together. He traced under her eyes, right beneath where her eyelashes lay casting a shadow from the moonglow. He traced her plush lips, a little chapped and raw from being worried in between her teeth over and over again. That simple touch, caused Licht to lose his ability to breathe. This felt too sacred, almost holy, and it wasn’t allowed of a lowly sinner such as himself. 

Licht was no better than Nokto. Here he was, a lonely beast basking in the solace of sleeping prey under the guise of comfort. And yet, Licht couldn’t tear himself away from her, his fingers sliding gently through her long hair, only pausing once like a deer in lamp light, as she nuzzled into his touch, sighing so sweetly in her sleep. And what a sound that was, so blissful, more like music to Licht’s ears than what he’s ever heard before. Now, a stab in his heart, from a sharp blade, at that thought. It was quick, and painless, but what hurt was the pain that he felt after he took his hand away from her, the metaphorical sword extracting as quickly as it pierced, leaving his blood to douse the burning embers engulfing his chest, starting to travel down into his stomach, flinching as the fleeting thought of how Mama must have felt when–.

“Licht?” Her eyes fluttered open, and he stayed still, unashamedly sitting at the side of her bed.

“I thought I heard something, but then I realized you were having a bad dream. I was just checking to make sure you’re okay.” He slid on his gloves, and he was grateful that the moon wasn’t bright enough to highlight the evenly lined scars that traveled up and down his arms. It didn’t stop her from looking on curiously. “If that’s all, go back to sleep.” He added softly, curtly. He removed himself from her bed, standing straight as one of his own soldiers were trained to do. 

“You look…” She trailed off, cocking her head to the side as she studied him. “Are you okay?”

No. “Yes. I was just thinking about how much I hate you. I’m tired and I can’t sleep because I have to guard you.” The flames stilled as she recoiled. The brazen burning started to diminish as she pulled her blankets back up to her chin. Closing herself off to him. “Well, I adore you. Thank you for staying here and protecting me.”

She was still trying. Another burning match was thrown into the flame. “Don’t say stuff like that. It just makes me hate you more.”

“That’s okay. Hate me as much as you want.” She replied, her eyes never leaving him as he made his way back to the small couch tucked against the wall. “It won’t change how I feel.” Why won't you understand that I am doing this for your sake? “Well stop it, and go to sleep.” Licht said, and then as his eyes met her own, his lips quivered into a soft smile, the muscles being stretched after so long of being forced to stay downturned. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Licht. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She replied, rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head. She wouldn’t see him once morning came, his nights were now what he had stored away for her. If this wasn’t a punishment sent directly from God, Licht didn’t know what else it could be.

Once again, even though he wasn’t alone, Licht was lonely, just like he thought he wanted, just the way Mama intended.

[natalieh0490]

Dc/Dp Prompt - Ritual Sacrifice and Consequences

Danny Fenton and Damien al ghoul are full brothers and raised together. Danny is five years older and is the perfect heir. He believes in everything that Ra’s tells him just like Damien, but sometimes he breaks the rules in order to be a good brother in secret. However, one day Danny goes on a mission and doesn’t return. When Damien asks what happened to his brother, Ra’s tells him that Danny’s name is to never be mentioned again. He failed and is to never be remembered. Damien goes on to continue his life as normal, but the pressure that he was under to never mention Danny after his failure and how everyone acted like he never existed made it so he never mentioned Danny to his father.

What happened to Danny was far more complex than failing a simple mission. In fact, he never went on a mission at all. You see, several centuries ago when Ra’s al Ghoul was young he made a deal with Pariah Dark. He would provide Pariah Dark with souls of the people he valued most to feed upon and in return Pariah Dark would grant Ra’s a Lazarus pit for as long as that person was supposed to have lived before they were cut short far to early. Ra’s al Ghoul doesn’t truly care about anyone so he was happy about this deal, but it was a little annoying at times to lose assets. This time it was Danny’s turn to be the sacrifice. Danny fought hard, but he was only ten while Ra’s was ancient. So Ra’s won, giving Danny a mortal wound before tossing him into the Lazarus for him to sink into its unending depths while he refilled and tainted it with his lifeblood. However, Danny did manage to leave Ra’s with a facial scar to remember him and this betrayal by. Because Danny refused to be separated from his precious little brother without a fight even though he failed at the end.

However, instead of being delivered to Pariah Dark like all of the sacrifices before him, he was intercepted by Clockwork. Clockwork ended up catching on to the deal between Ra’s al Ghoul and Pariah Dark during the last sacrifice who was Nyssa al Ghoul, who he managed to save before she was completely consumed. Because of those, Clockwork was ready to intervene before Danny truly died and Pariah Dark could consume his soul and become strong enough to escape the sarcophagus of forever sleep. Danny was grateful to be saved, and then demanded to be returned to this brothers side at once in order to protect him from their twisted family. But, Clockwork refused because the would be interfering in the timeline in a way that would make things worse. Damien al Ghoul Wayne was meant to be the only blood child of Bruce and Talia, and the best timeline possible would result from that remaining that way. Also, Danny was needed elsewhere, because while the timeline didn’t need/was actively hurt by Daniel al ghul, it needed Danny Fenton. Then before Danny could react, Clockwork wiped Daniel al Ghoul min from existence and then filled his mind with memories of being Danny Fenton.

There are two choices here. Either their already was a Danny Fenton who was supposed to live the life of cannon Danny Fenton, but didn’t mange to survive long enough and got replaced. Or there never was a Danny Fenton, but Clockwork knew that the Fenton parents lacking attempts at safety would result in another hafta eventually, and he placed Daniel al ghouls there and made everyone believe the Fentons always had two children because the timeline needed a halfa hero. Whichever method, when the newly minted Danny Fenton arrived in Amity Park, clockwork manipulated everyone’s minds to make it seem like he had either always been there, or had never died

So Danny and those close to him know something is off, but they don’t notice something is truly wrong until he becomes a halfa. If he replaced someone else it is obvious that he suddenly had new interests, but nobody cared really to notice. But something being off becomes really obvious when Danny becomes a halfa and has to deal with fighting ghosts and ghost hunters because he knows how to fight without knowing how he learning. The experience also started the slow process of him getting his stolen memories back. Sam and Tucker may start to become uneasy around Danny due to how viciously he fights in what seems like a fun situation where they get to play heroes because they are kids who don’t understand the danger they are in yet. Jazz is more supportive and is willing to believe Danny when he says something is off about his place in Amity when absolutely no one else will believe him and helps him to investigate. Ellie and Danny see each other as siblings, and because of that Danny encourage Ellie to run away from Amity, subconsciously thinking of Damien and wanting to protect her from the dangers of Amity because she is still extremely naive/innocent because it made her easier to control.

No one contacted the Justice League because Amity is a small town that doesn’t have much exposure to the Justice league in the first place. Also, the attacks from both the ghost hunters and ghosts escalated slowly, like boiling a frog, so no one noticed how truest dangerous things were getting until it was too late. This happened over a course of six years and started when Danny was fourteen. Then, out of nowhere, when the GIW had enough information they stopped acting incompetent and inflicted a devastating blow on Amity Park managed to capture many ghosts included Danny. After this brutal loss, the experiments that happened as a result exposed Danny as a ghost to his “parents” and exposed him as being Daniel al Ghoul resulting in him being abandoned and tortured by them. This experimentation lasted for several months to a year before a successful rescue. Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and Ellie ended up staging a rescue that ended up being a success, but in the process they also find out the truth about Danny. Sam and Tucker are horrified about his part of being an assassin whether it was willing or not and abandon him in their horror. Because after all they were taught that taking a life was the worst thing you could do no matter what. Meanwhile, Ellie doesn’t care cause he is still her original and Jazz still sees him as her little brother. In the massive fight that occurs, Jazz becomes a shadow-cored halfa and manages to use shadow travel to teleport Ellie, Danny, and Jazz away to safety.

When they arrive at their new location they decide that there is no point in preventing the war that the Anti-Ecto Acts have been trying to trigger for so long anymore. The humans have gone to far, and their is no way to keep both sides safe anymore with the horrors the GIW has show that is willing to do with full approval from the US government and seeming approval of the Justice League and the UN. So they decided that if the humans really want this war this badly they won’t stand in the way anymore.

After, they make that decision Danny asks if they can go confront Ra’s al Ghoul, his grandfather, for what he did to him. Yes, it was clockwork who erased his mind, but is was Ra’s who sacrificed him and he wants revenge. It is also unlikely the the would succeed at getting revenge on an ancient, even though he will never trust that ancient again. At this point Danny is a mix of two full lives and it hurts and he hopes that this will help, and if it doesn’t it will at least feel good. So he confronts his grandfather and finds his reasons stupid and shortsighted and kills him in his rage because he stole his life for such a selfish reason. And then he decides that he is too broken to be allowed to interact with Damien. He would be safer with their father and without him in his life, so the three of them return to the ghost zone to join the preparations for war with the humans.

Meanwhile, Damien has been morning his brother a lot these past 10 years. Things have gone for the bats the same as canon, and they are just as dysfunctional as ever. One day during one of Jason and Bruce’s arguments over the Joker and Jason’s death, Damien has an out of character meltdown. He reveals the existence of Danny and wonders if Danny would hate him the way Jason hates Bruce for failing to avenge him. He tells this to Alfred, because the bats are allergic to emotions and Alfred drove them away so he could comfort Damien properly. But the bats spied on the conversation cause they are the bats.

Bruce decides to go confront Ra’s over the son he would never get to meet, but when he arrives he has been brutally ripped to shreds and is barely recognizable as human, and the Lazarus pit is gone like it has never existed. He calls in the Justice league Dark and they say it is the work of the Infinite Realms and a very bad sign. Then, they start getting report of different eldritch beings going on rampages across the worlds that are unable to be hit or hurt and have the weirds rants from being to being that make no sense.

The war has begun.

So the GIW, Fentons, and other ghost hunters get to the Justice league and convince them that the ghosts are not sentient/sapient and all that can be done is extermination. But as they follow that path, the war gets worse and worse instead of better. Members of the Justice league also slowly begin to catch on that something else is going on here than what they are being told. They decide to capture/summon one to get the other sides perspective, and then they realize the truth. And then they try to stop the war the only way it truest can be stopped. By proving the humans and the ghosts can live in peace. After they get rid of the GIW and the ghost hunters and the Fentons, they summon the halfa. They do this because they need a halfa to end the war. The ghost royalty can only make choices about the ghost realm. Halfas get to make choices about the relationship between the two realms. They end up summoning Danny.

Luckily for Danny. Only Jason is there when they do so. They are trying to get on his good side to get him to end the fighting. They end up having a discussion and they agree to end the fight as long as the humans stop their hunting. Then Danny slips up and reveals that he is Damien’s older brother, so Damien comes running from where the bats were hiding in case Danny ending up being malevolent and demanded he return home at once and explain what he has been up to all this time. Danny explains everything after a bit of hesitation and expects to be rejected but instead the is welcomed home by his father and siblings, and those siblings say that his clone and adopted sister are welcome. So he gets Jazz and Ellie and the three of them move to Wayne manor somewhat cautiously. Then the two groups learn how to be a family through their multitude of issues cautious.

Also, halfa can never be rulers of the ghost zone because they are to alive, but pariah dark isn’t the king during the war either because he is too evil.

If anyone writes something with this please credit me and provide me a link in the comments so I can read it.

Thanks.

[ruthlesslistener]

I just can't get over the fact it was PK who offered the hornet deal thing. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the guy with a baby death pit didn't think twice to toss a child at someone to get them on his side, but what did Herrah think? Again she wasn't in a position to refuse, needing a heir, but god that must have been a jarring proposal.

I mean, if you look at it from the political circumstances, it does make a whole lot more sense than from just a casual 'hey want me to be a sperm donor' offer. Deepnest and Hallownest had political tension between them, to the point where the Pale King signed a treaty with the Mantis Lords to guard the city's gates; Herrah is known as 'the Beast' to the citizens of Hallownest, and her den is spoken of as being 'beyond the kingdom'. So they were already in tense circumstances to begin with, and then PK comes over to her lands about a problem that primarily affects his kingdom and asks her to lay her life down for a problem that isn't fully hers to deal with. That's a lot to ask for, especially when you don't have an heir to make sure that your kingdom stays intact after you're gone. PK probably came over to Deepnest after hearing about the ferocity, strength, and loyalty of their queen, noticed that she had no heir to succeed her throne, and then offered to ensure she had one so that she could lay down her life knowing that her sacrifice would save her people in the future (yikes) and that the title of ruler was secure. That's excellent for Deepnest.

And that's not all the benefits of him siring her heir, either! That's just the most basic breakdown of the bunch. Him doing so would automatically place Hallownest and Deepnest in a position for a treaty, as the heir of Deepnest now has the blood of Hallownest running in her, essentially tying the fate of the two kingdoms together. It's a big show of peace, because he offered to create and then put his own rival on the throne, meaning that he technically couldn't become Deepnest's king after her death- because his daughter is already there. And on top of that, he is a god, meaning that none of the spiders of Deepnest could truly contest with her heir after her death, because her baby has divine blood running through her veins and a (presumably) alive father in the neighboring kingdom over. Having a halfblood heir means that her child is already LEAGUES above everyone else who might try to take the throne, both in power and vitality. So not only did PK offering to give her an heir essentially meant that he stepped forward and went 'hey, in exchange for your sacrifice, I will ensure your future and place my own rival on your throne', it also brought Deepnest and Hallownest from a place of animosity to one where trade was happening between the kingdoms (or, well, Hallownest was buying Deepnest's silk en masse) AS WELL as strengthening Herrah's lineage and basically ensuring that her baby would not only be strong and healthy, but also stay on the throne. All things considering, if everything worked out as it should have, then Herrah would have exchanged her life for a boon that might have very well set Deepnest into a golden age after her sacrifice.

(And it also points to how desperate PK was for the Dreamer plan. Not only did he sacrifice his top scholar and someone who looks to have been essential to managing the City of Tears, he also gave a whole hell of a lot without getting a whole hell of a lot in return. Trade and kingdom security is great, but it looks like it was mostly Deepnest selling to Hallownest, and Hornet being raised by the White Lady certainly didn't place Deepnest under Hallownest's rule. If anything, she ended up inheriting both kingdoms...though not through happy circumstances)

Personally what I think is funny is that PK's solution to everything seems to be 'make baby to fix problem'. I mean, it makes sense in both the highly specific contexts that required it, but it also places him as the anti-zeus of mythology (has a lot of kids but not bc hes a slut, just bc he can fuck his way out of it instead of fight) which is personally very funny to me

[vahalia-cress-ffxiv]

A Mensis. Vita.

Another letter she didn’t want to write.  Another wrench cast into the pit of her plans which gave room to irritation.

Any other day she’d look for reasons to punish Ricard Blythe but not today. Somehow her humanity still hadn’t left her and even now she found herself letting him off the hook despite her enjoyment of watching the man struggle –a  rather big hook he had been let off of since he had owed her so much and his debt was to be made payable by joining their two houses through her sister, Valeria. As it stood, blood was still on her hands regardless of what debts might have been closed.

Well – it was a good idea for what it was at the time at least.

She should have known something would have come along to muck it all up despite all her efforts. A small nagging voice in the back of her head often asked herself if Ricard had planned this; Valeria’s accident. The person who did it still hadn’t been caught and until Valeria woke, there was little to nothing they could do without her input and information on what happened to really put a face or a possible name to who attacked her.

How very interesting that all this played in Ricard’s favor. If Valeria was dead or had a bad enough accident to never wake, that meant he would never have to marry the Cress girl. It was as if though a stroke of luck glided through Ishgard and Ricard and somehow caught that favor.

Sure, he had connections, but was he bold enough to do such a thing to an innocent woman? Vahalia hummed, rolling the handle of her spoon between thumb and forefinger. 

No. Ricard never had much of a backbone for such dealings when it involved innocents; too much of a conscious for that and not much of a stomach. He was every bit a crook, but even he had more of a heart than Vahalia herself did and far more morals. It was often something that made him fragile – weakwilled – she seen it as an area allowing room for error and pause. His Uncle Bernard was a good indication of how the Blythe heir handled business; not forgetting his other little bouts around from place to place and the overall ‘brand’ he left on every pit-stop along the way.

Vahalia rolled her tongue around in her mouth, folded the paper, and tossed it to the center of the table with some hint of annoyance.

“Nothing in the paper today?” Annette asked while glancing at the paper Vahalia had discarded while adjusting the settings along the table. She made no attempts to pick it up and tidy it away since she knew the Lady of the house well enough and by the time the 12th bell came she’d be eyes deep into the news again pouring over the last little bits to ensure she hadn’t missed anything of importance.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Lady Cress finally put the spoon down and picked up her cup, “Some counselor was found dead. It appears he took his own life but there is an ongoing investigation it seems.” she took communion from the rim, savoring the warmth and flavor of her late-morning tea, “Still nothing – that I can see – linked to Valeria.”

“Disappointing. We’ll come up with something soon enough. What about that rugged Belgrave fellow, would he be able to help you?” “I’d rather choke on my own blood than ask another man for assistance. It seems like more and more I am let down by them as of late. My friend Belgrave – let him be. He’s probably off on some beach by now and sinking his toes into the sand. For how cold it has been here I imagine he’s been itching to get back to his roots.”

“Do you think he’ll return?” Annette asked softly.

“I doubt it.” the response came quickly and Vahalia closed her eyes to bury her thoughts once more; mostly to keep from making eye contact with Annette. Vahalia admired the woman a great deal but didn’t feel like having a personal conversation with her – certainly not about Hakan. Silence filled the room and Annette finally made her way out after seeing to her tasks, taking the post with her that needed to be shipped out later that day.

More and more recently Vahalia favored her solitude. In part, much of it having to do with current happenings coupled with the past.

She came to terms with what needed to be done regarding her contract with the Blythe house, she didn’t like it but it was a necessity. Going forward all she needed now was to tend to the other matters on the table, much of which included her own affairs, handling Ashen Wolves business and being caught up in an ever-busy web – she preferred nothing less.

A curious gaze drew out towards the hallway as Marion came in with freshly cut flowers for the table, “Spring roses?” Vahalia mused, part-walk admiring the set.

“For Valentione’s day, Ma’am. Thought they would perk up the dining room.” Another holiday. Time and time she had forgotten them, the only big one of note she paid particularly close attention to was Starlight; mostly for Valeria’s benefit than her own since celebrating often seemed boorish and mundane to her when she could be spent doing other things. Time was money after all, “They’re very nice.” Vahalia settled on and she picked up the paper she had discarded earlier and tucked it under her arm.

Her sway of fabrics trailed behind her all the way to Valeria’s room where once more Vahalia would take perch over her sister for several hours. This was her part of the day to sit and be at peace with her kin without interruption since most of the house was busy abroad with other tasks.

It had been a month and some few days since Valeria’s accident and while stuff happened and shift out here in the real world, Vahalia couldn’t help but wonder what sort of world Valeria had sat within. Darkness? Silence? Complete abandon. How could one rest if the world never turned or that resting was all one did? 

A nagging sensation had been with Vahalia since the begging of all of this and she stayed true to the idea that despite everything, Valeria could hear the world around her without the ability to wake and of course, books were in abundance by the bedside and rarely strayed from the Cress’s room. Staying within reach and a world that both she and her sister to partake in – both being utterly alone in their respective spaces.

For now, a world somewhere far off and make-believe would have to do.

Mention(s): @ricard-blythe-ffxiv - @belgravexiv - @spirit-speaking

[ofnotaprincess]

@briskofpeds

Your demons have a way of taking its toll on you. Jo Wilson always felt  alone, always felt like  she had  to hide herself. Her childhood wasn’t suns and rainbows. It was more of a hell for her. She never felt wanted or enough for anyone. She was abandoned as a baby. None of the foster homes wanted her; she was too old by the time any family found interest in her. She was tired of the moving around, of being tossed to the side. It’s why she took matters into her own hands. Why she stole cars to make her living situation make ends meet. Her judge of character wasn’t sharp due to her lack of experience. 

She realized now she was desperate to feel loved; to love someone who loved her back. Jo convinced herself love was the answer; it would fix all her problems. And as a result she learned the hard way. Paul was kind at first; he made her feel seen. He made her feel those butterflies in her stomach. He had the ability to make her feel special; to feel like she was the only girl. Jo followed love; her heart and she stupidly married Paul on a whim.  She thought the future was full of hope with him. She was blinded from his charm to see the signs. She had friends until she didn’t. Until the day her world only revolved around her. Jo was warned from a friend; and she convinced herself that her friend Link was Jealous; Paul made her feel crazy especially when he started getting in her head. She stopped listening to herself. Until the night he got so mad he nearly killed her. Of course he’d place his hands on her more than one occasion. He made the brunette believe it was her fault; that she provoked him.

It took years for Jo to leave; to plan her escape after bruise after bruise she was tired of living in fear. She changed her name; she found an opportunity for herself in Seattle; an internship. She had placed her name in as Jo Wilson; a new life and name. Jo Never planned on meeting someone like Alex. He was an ass the last man she saw herself falling for. Which is why she felt safe at first. Until the pair had formed a friendship; a easy banter that turned on feelings. Feelings Jo tired to run from. She tried to date anyone but him but Alex was on the back of her mind. And that night; during the heavy rain storm when he said the words; words she wanted to hear. She saw it; Alex meant it when he said he loved her. And deep down she loved him so and she smiled and kissed him. Years together; a friendship formed into love. Jo said how much she loved him with her actions. She didn’t think it was okay to utter the words “ I love you” unless it was going to last. The last man she said I love you to had betrayed her; had beat her for fun and made her feel sick to her stomach. 

But Despite the love; she should’ve seen it coming. The Marriage proposals. Meaning more than one. Everything in her body wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t. She thought she had more time to tell him. But the shoe had dropped she felt like she lost him. Alex had barely spoken two words to her in days, in weeks. He wouldn’t even stay at the loft; and she felt broken. A piece of her was slipping away. Until today; when she happened to walk into this exam room. The same room he was in. 

She felt the air return; she felt those warm feelings in the pit of her stomach again. He was working; she saw the crease on his forehead when he focused. Their eyes met; and  that’s when she broke. The demands of lying; the hiding from the person you love was taking its toll on her.Which is why she broke. She uttered the words. She was married; to a man that beat her. She could barely look at him feeling his glaze beating down on her. Back pressed against the cold door she slid down until her bottom hit the floor. 

Shoulders pulled down in defeat. “ Is marriage all you want here? Is the fact I love you not enough? I want this, I want us. I just.. I don’t know if I’m brave enough to file for divoice yet.. I don’t know if I can give you marriage.: A hard truth; if marriage is what Alex was seeking we might just have to walk away now. Before either of us get pulled through the mud further.  Feeling him close, she felt his touch; hearing his breathing she leaned closer into his touch; until her head had hit his shoulder. 

Palm sliding across the floor until she reached his palm lacing her fingers through his. “ I love you, and I know I should’ve told you. I’m not good at the whole letting my guard down. But I’m trying.. You won’t lose me Alex.” I was her; despite the impulse to run for the hills. 

Together; It was nice thought; and for a second Jo held onto that hope.

[anesan]

The Text

When Jin could move without visibly wincing, they went home to Tsushima and life resumed as normal. Taka came home from the hospital and Yuna returned to work at the club. There was talk among the other girls about where she’d gone and who she was with, but Yuna didn’t share anything with them. They were her coworkers and– in some cases– her rivals; she didn’t feel the need to give them the details of her personal life.

Jin went back to work too, making sure to take extra care to keep himself out of harm’s way. He had said he was behaving himself so she wouldn’t get angry at him for hurting himself again, but she’d gleaned enough information about his work life to know that that probably wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t talk much about his Family around her, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew his uncle was the big boss and she also knew that Jin did a lot of things without telling him. She was sure that explaining away all of his recent injuries had been a headache– he was probably avoiding trouble so he wouldn’t have to explain away anything else.

Yuna didn’t care either way. As long as he was keeping himself safe, she was happy.

They tried to spend most nights she didn’t work together. Sometimes they stayed at his place, other times at hers (she preferred staying at her place most of the time, as Jin’s dog Kuma could be a bit much). Everything was great when she ignored what he did for a living. She assumed that’s how most of these men’s wives and girlfriends could live with it, by being wilfully ignorant. Yuna found it frighteningly easy to do.

Until one day it wasn’t.

He was in the shower when his phone went off. Yuna grabbed it, thinking it was hers, only to see a message from Ryuzo Tanaka. She’d met him a few times, Jin’s oldest friend and top lieutenant. He was the type of guy Yuna might have been interested in younger days, wild and obnoxious. She found him mostly annoying (probably because he was a little too much like herself), but she knew he was Jin’s right-hand man. If Jin liked him, she supposed she could handle it.

She hadn’t meant to read the message. Really, she didn’t even see all of it; his phone was locked and she didn’t know the passcode. She only saw the beginning of the message, but that was enough.

🐉Ryuzo🐉

That Nero guy was the one that got you stateside, huh? I trac….

She tossed his phone down, a sick feeling in her stomach. Yuna had not been meant to see that message and she wished she hadn’t. Jin was mostly back to his old self and she’d let herself forget the beating he’d gotten in America. It had been so easy to forget. But now that she knew a name, she knew she would be able to keep ignoring it.

She heard Jin finish up in the shower and she bit her lower lip, thinking about her options.

I should just ignore it, she thought. It’s his business, not mine.

But then he was padding out into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist, body on display as he rubbed his wet hair with a smaller towel. Any other day and she might have appreciated the muscle moving beneath the vibrant colors on his skin, feeling a burning for him in the pit of her belly. But now all she could see was the healing scar tissue that he hadn’t yet attempted to cover with a tattoo touch up. And all she could think about was how he still winced when he moved his torso too fast. And the name Nero. That was the name of the man who’d done this to him.

“Yuna,” he asked, drawing her out of her reverie. His brow was furrowed with something like worry. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry, I just spaced out. I think I’m tired.”

“It’s still early,” he said looking at the clock. “You want to go to bed now?”

“I want to lay down,” she said. “Just for a little while.”

“Let me get dressed and I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’d rather you stay.”

It was Jin who fell asleep first, face buried in her shoulder as he held her against him. He was always like this post-coitus, cuddly and tired. But Yuna couldn’t enjoy it like she normally did. All she could think was the name Nero. Nero, Nero, Nero.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

[roger-that-cap]

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 

yet another au by me... 

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 

  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 

  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 

 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 

  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 

 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 

 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 

  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 

  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 

 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 

“‘I’m Bucky.” 

  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.” 

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 

 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 

  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 

 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 

  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 

  “Wanda.” 

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 

  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 

 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 

 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 

  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 

 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 

  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 

“Are you into herbal healing?” 

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  

You frowned. “What girl?” 

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 

  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 

  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 

  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 

She was silent. 

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 

 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 

 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 

  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 

 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 

  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 

  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 

   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 

Wanda. 

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 

  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 

  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 

  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 

  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

   “A new life will do that to you.” 

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 

  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.” 

[twiceinadream]

“Make me yours.”

Requested: Yup

Request: shy! Alphas dahyun and tzuyu mating reader for the first time. Like there shy until she just begs them to take her and something jus flips?

a/u: Hey, y’all, I’m back! I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, writer’s block and life haven’t really been my friends for the past seven weeks, but I finally managed to finish a fic! I hope you enjoy it and my slow return back to posting. Also thank you so much for 3,000k+ followers, I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Clouds began to crowd the sky as the morning light was blocked by the downpour that had seemed to manifest out of thin air, the streets made slick with rain as early commuters combated with the elements. But it also created a peaceful atmosphere for you and your girlfriends as the light tapping of the rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows gradually roused you from the depths of sleep, a loud yawn erupted from your lips as your eyes fluttered open.

The scent of the two Alphas snuggled on either side of you filling your senses as you reveled in the moment, enjoying the feel of their bodies against yours until it seemed like you began to burn up. Your skin felt clammy as sweat began to bead along your hairline, the feel of fire felt like it was beginning to claim the pit of your stomach when an overwhelming sense of urgency coursed through your veins, ‘You were in heat.’

The comforter covering your bodies felt suffocating as you pressed your thighs together in an effort to stop the wetness from sleeping out on the bed, while you did your best to weasel away from the women clinging to you. Holding your breath as you snaked your way to the edge of the mattress so you could make a bolt to the en-suite, locking the door behind you as your legs finally gave out from under you and helplessly slid onto the floor.

Your underwear was completely soaked in your slick as you barely had enough strength to peel them off you before discarding them on the bathroom floor. The feel of the tile under your heated skin did wonders to relieve the burn you felt as one of your hands began sliding it’s way down to the burning between your legs. You shyly toyed with your slit as your fingertips dipped shallowly into your center, running your fingers through the wetness but stopping before you could properly pay attention to your clit as more of your essence began spilling out. Drenching your hand in wetness as you finally gave in and plunged into your depths. Your walls immediately tightened around the sudden intrusion as a guttural moan released itself from deep within your chest, your hand pistoned itself in and out of your entrance as you could feel your first release building up inside of you. The cool in your stomach growing taught as you pulled your fingers out from inside and moved up to attack your clit.

Your fingers frantically flicking, rubbing, and circling the straining bundle of nerves as your eyes remain squeezed shut, your breathing beyond labored as you balled your fist against the tile. Your body bracing itself as it froze for a fraction of a second before releasing all the tension it had stored within itself.

Streams of pent up arousal came shooting out of you as you continued to focus all your energy onto your clit as your peak took you to heights you never thought imaginable. You were becoming acutely aware of the screams echoing off the bathroom walls that you finally recognized as your own as your orgasm finally died down. Slight jerks wracked your body as your hand fell to the side, a content smile forming on your lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm thrummed throughout your body. A contented sigh falling from your lips as you rested peacefully against the bathroom door, until a knock sounded cr behind it.

“Y..Y/N? Are you okay?” Your blood ran cold as Dahyun’s voice sounded from behind the door.

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, “Everything’s fine!” You tried to sound more put together than you felt to mask the fact you were in heat and surrounded by your two, unmated girlfriends.

“No you’re not.” It was Tzuyu this time. “We can smell you from underneath the door.”

‘Well, shit.’ You mused to yourself as you slowly began to stand up, ‘That didn’t work.’ You sighed, knowing it was impossible to put off the inevitable, “Okay, fine. I’m coming out.”

To say you were nervous would be a gigantic understatement as you braced yourself to face your girlfriends. Exhaling slowly as you pushed the door open to find the two Alphas you had left in bed this morning staring at you, “Morning.”

Dahyun and Tzuyu deadpanned as they stood up straighter, your scent finally hitting them in full force as they took in your appearance. From the flush of your cheeks to the clenching of your thighs, “You’re in heat.”

It was your turn to deadpan as you looked at Tzuyu, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Dahyun suppressed a laugh as she tried not to look at the stunned disbelief on the taller Alpha’s face, “What Tzumong meant to say was, ‘Would you like some help with it?’.”

You giggled slightly, “Depends.” A coy smile grew on your face as you palmed the Alpha’s bulges through their boxers, enjoying the way their alpha-hoods swelled under your touch. Their scents combined into a dominant musk that made your mind spin and your core clench. “What do you have to offer?”

-

Tzuyu huffed a laugh and sat on the bed beside you, reaching her hand between your legs to rub at your swollen, slick clit to ease the need that your heat would be bringing without someone inside you. Dahyun quickly pulled her shirt and bra over her head, tossing them both to the floor and eased her boxers the rest of the way down her legs. She watched with a smile on her face as Tzuyu teased you and pressed her own erection up against you, grinding to work you up even more.

Dahyun climbed back onto the bed, laying down beside you as her cock strained against the cold air of the room, slipping her hand down to press two fingers inside of you. Tzuyu pulled her own hand away, drawing out a desperate groan from you as she did so. She undressed quickly, her clothes ending up on a pile on the floor next to Dahyun’s. Her hand found your clit again as she laid down beside you like Dahyun had done.

“What do you want us to do to you, baby? You’re already so wet for us.”

You struggled to find the words to answer that question, your mind torn between how good both of their hands felt on you but also the desire and the need for more. Tzuyu chuckled when she didn’t get a response to her question, her eyes flicking up to meet Dahyun’s.

“Then I guess it’s up to us. Isn’t it, Y/N-ah?” Tzuyu ran her tongue over your lips eliciting a groan at all the possibilities of what was to come at the hands of your Alphas.

Dahyun couldn’t suppress her smile as she felt her length pulse, “Sounds good to me, Tzu.” Both of the girls took their time to feel you up as they each made their way to some part of you. Dahyun moved in front of you to place lingering kisses along your chest making you squirm against her wandering lips while Tzuyu busied herself with placing open mouthed kisses on the base of your neck and up to your jaw as you continued to pant under their ministrations.

The slick between your legs was practically smeared along your thighs and probably soaking into the bed sheets by now with how turned on you were. The fire of your heat burned so hot in your lower belly that you felt like it was going to consume you from the inside out if the Alphas surrounding you didn’t do something quick.

A desperate whine left your throat as you rocked your hips backwards to grind against Tzuyu, her hardness digging into your ass when you finally decided that now was finally the time.

You were finally going to ask them to be your mates.

A shuddering breath fell from your lips as sweat dripped down your face, a look of determination in your eyes as you called both of your girlfriend’s attentions. Causing them to momentarily stop what they were doing to face you, “I’m ready.”

The sudden confession surprised them both as Dahyun looked at you with concern, “Are you sure?”

You appreciated her worry but you could barely think of anything other than the two of them plowing you into the mattress as you nodded, “Make me yours.”

A wide smile broke out onto both of their faces as they placed a kiss on opposite sides of your cheeks, Tzuyu nuzzling into your hair as she wrapped her arms around your waist, “And we’ll make you ours.”

The both of them helped you roll onto your side, having you face Dahyun. Tzuyu’s hands helped to support your thighs to keep them spread for Dahyun as she brought the head of her cock to your already dripping cunt. She chose to tease you at first, not pressing inside but instead rubbing slow, steady circles with it, enjoying the way your entrance fluttered the more you got worked up. Sliding her alpha-hood between your folds to lube up her length a little more before she got ready to push into you for the first time, not bothering to add any additional lubrication other than your guy’s combined wetness as you were practically soaking.

Tzuyu snaked one hand up to palm at your breasts, tugging and pinching a nipple between her fingers, causing your hips to jerk forward towards Dahyun. When she finally pushed forward, sliding the tip of her cock inside of you after she felt you had enough teasing. Your breath catching in your throat as she slowly began pushing into you, your walls squeezing down on her at the unfamiliar stretch as you gritted your teeth a little at the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as Tzuyu whispered words of encouragement into your ear as she continued to toy with your breasts, doing her best to make the small amount of pain you were experiencing turn to pleasure as soon as possible.

Your body relaxed when Dahyun had finally bottomed out inside of you, she waited patiently for you to adjust to her size when you nodded, “You can move.”

She grunted in response as she pulled out so that only the head of her cock remained inside of you, before carefully thrusting back inside of you causing you to cry out in relief as you were filled up again, the stretch of Dahyun’s length starting to finally feel pleasant. You tilted your head back to rest against Tzuyu’s chest, panting loudly as Dahyun began thrusting.

She took over Tzuyu’s hand that had been supporting your thigh, as she brought your leg to hook around her hip instead. Tzuyu continued to palm at your breast with one hand, moving her now free hand to your ass, using her finger to tease at your other hole. A needy and desperate whimper escaped your lips as Tzuyu’s finger prodded and threatened to press inside.

“So eager.” The taller Alpha teased with a chuckle before standing up, heading to their bedside table.

You let out a whine, Dahyun’s cock was inside you just like you wanted - needed - but her hips stopped moving. You needed more and you needed it now. Dahyun shushed your whines, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder before switching to nipping at the skin, enjoying the breathy moans you gave in response.

The bed dipped as Tzuyu found her spot behind you again except this time with a bottle of lube in hand. Tzuyu popped the cap, squeezing it into the palm of her hand with a wet noise before tossing the bottle aside. With one hand she began to ease her fingers inside your hole, starting with just one digit but quickly moving to two with the desperate noises she was making.

Dahyun waited patiently, wanting so much to just begin thrusting with how amazing it felt to be inside of you, your walls clenching tightly around her but she knew she had to wait for Tzuyu and it would be worth it. Tzuyu worked her way up to three fingers, enjoying the way you stretched for her before finally pulling away, earning yet another desperate whimper from deep within your chest. She used the rest of the lube to slick up her own cock as she pressed the head of it against your hole, pausing for just a moment before pressing inside.

You clung to Dahyun’s shoulders, fingernails digging in harshly as you wailed with pleasure, feeling both of your holes be filled up just like you’d been impatiently waiting for. There was a pause when Tzuyu bottomed out, the two alphas giving you a moment to adjust before Dahyun gave the first thrust. Your fingernails dragging down Dahyun’s back with a loud moan as Tzuyu thrusted in as soon as Dahyun was drawing back, the two of them alternating their thrusts into you.

“More! Please, please more!” You gasped, your heart racing and mind dizzy as your heat fully took hold and demanded even more from them.

Both Dahyun and Tzuyu were more than willing to oblige. Dahyun moved one hand up to pinch at one of your nipples, while Tzuyu busied her mouth with sucking dark hickeys into the muscle of your shoulders. They both began to thrust into you harder, enjoying the loud moans that you were letting out. You squirmed between them, not to get away from the pleasure but seeking out anything else they could give you.

“How does it feel, Jagi?” Dahyun asked breathlessly, punctuating her words with a teasing press of her newly formed knot against your aching entrance, “I bet you’ve been dreaming of this moment. Tzumong and me filling you to the brim as you lose control”

Tzuyu leaned in, murmuring against your ear as she joined in on the teasing, “You’re so spoiled, Y/N-ah. Having two Alphas taking care of your heat.”

“Fuck! Just…knot me.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as their teasing made the coil in your belly tighten.

Dahyun used one hand to grip your hip to push her knot inside first, doing so with a rough snap of her own hips followed by a delighted sigh. It had entered with a loud, slick pop. Your inner walls instantly clenched tightly around it. By the noises you were making, both Dahyun and Tzuyu could tell that you were so close to your peak, so Tzuyu followed Dahyun’s lead, pushing her knot inside your ass with a forceful thrust.

Causing you to cry out as you clenched hard on the two cocks inside you, viciously dragging your fingernails down Dahyun’s back as you felt both of your girlfriends release inside of you. Filling you up with their cum as they grunted and groaned against you, both of them sharing the same thought as they simultaneously sank their teeth into both sides of your neck.

Mating you.

Claiming you.

Their bites were the final straw as you were thrown over the edge, a high pitched scream escaped from your throat as you felt all the tension building inside of your body finally find its release. White filled your vision as every part of you spasmed, helpless to the onslaught of pure pleasure that made every nerve in your body stand on end. Before your high began to taper off as you fell bonelessly against Tzuyu.

The Alpha snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her, palm rubbing and pressing against your stomach. A weak groan escaped from you at how full you felt before Tzuyu stopped, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Before propping herself up on one elbow, watching as Dahyun began to card her fingers through your hair, a goofy smile on her face as she trailed a finger down to the fresh bite on the right side of your neck. Her mark.

Both of their knots had shrunk enough inside of you for them to pull out but they continued to lie there, not moving.

That was until Tzuyu began to laugh from behind you, jostling you and Dahyun slightly as she calmed with a sigh, “I can’t believe we did it. We’re mates.”

The word felt strange but familiar all at the same time as you pushed the Alphas back slightly so that they were no longer inside of you, allowing you to lie on your back so that you could see the both of them properly, “Took us long enough.”

A chuckle also came from Dahyun as she linked her fingers with Tzuyu’s as their hands rested against your stomach, “At least we did. I guess that finally makes you our Omega now, doesn’t it Y/N.”

You couldn’t suppress the smile growing on your face as you took their interlocked hands that were resting on your belly and brought them to your lips, kissing them both. “And I guess that makes you two my Alphas.”

The two smiled as they cuddled into either side of you, “Yes, yes it does.”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Starlit Confession

Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: On a camping trip tradition, your friends have got other plans neither you or Sirius are aware of.

Requested by @expelliarmusmyass : “can i request a classic enemies to lovers "there's only one bed" sirius x reader where all the marauders (+lily!) have a sleepover or camping trip of some sorts and lily and remus finally decide they need to get reader and sirius already and plan to get them to sleep in the same room/bed/tent ? thanks !!”

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: little bit of jealousy, mutual pining, fluff, kissing

A/N: Thank you for my first Sirius request!! I absolutely loved everything about it, I hope you enjoy!

July 1979

The breeze swept coolly across your face against the warm summer sun as you stuck your hand outside the window, the air gliding over the back of it. You were headed to the stretch of woods that you’ve all come to know so well, something that was highly anticipated the moment the summer season had begun. Camping. It was something you and your friends had made into tradition without much discussion against it for the last three years. Lily had saved up for the very Volkswagen bus you’d been sitting in, knowing for a fact she’d get more use out of it than a simple small car; she knew her four closest friends were in it for the long haul and that was something that would always remain true.

It was mostly a golden yellow color, near orange, its roof white with a matching tire cover on the front of it between two round headlights. It was adorable, it was perfect, and most importantly it was big enough to fit a boisterous group of friends that surely needed the space. It’d already housed jovial memories that would be cherished for years to come.

You’d each packed up a bag or two, tossed them in the back and set off to the ever familiar place the five of you had found to be the perfect spot. A clearing amongst the woods, a place not far from the waters edge. It looked near enchanting when sunbeams filter through old yet thriving trees, as much as it could be for being a place without the very magic you’ve known all your life. It was perhaps your favorite tradition out of all others that had been created, one that you never failed to look forward to. No matter what’s been going on with any of you, traditions were never missed or forgotten. That was one thing that was constant and one thing would never change.

Another thing that had been just the same was the constant need for Sirius Black to get under your skin. You’d known him ever since you both were fourteen years old, and every day since then had been a battle of who’d been more witty and your three best friends had yet to determine who had been the rightful owner of that title. You were always bickering about something or another, always tossing narrowed stares and scrunched noses, grumbling under breaths and eye rolls. Even despite that, James, Remus and Lily especially had been convinced that there were feelings amongst it all. It hadn’t been too terribly hard for them to jump to that conclusion. They had their suspicions with each and every look Sirius had found himself giving you when your attention was fixed elsewhere. At the very same look you’d cast upon him when he wasn’t looking. They were absent minded actions to you both, and that was all the more reason for them to think there was something there.

It drove the tight knit group absolutely mad to see their two dearest friends love each other without even knowing of that very fact—James found himself far too close on multiple occasions to flat out complaining of the sheer obliviousness between you two. To simply tell them how blind the two of you must be. But each and every time he’d nearly done so it was promptly stopped by a stern Lily Evans who was not to be defied. They felt another day of this was simply not an option, too painful to watch a second more.

Even now, as you sat in the back with the raven haired wizard, the seating arrangement proved to make for an interesting trip. There was a flurry of jests and quips to match them; it was inevitable when he’d taken the seat right next to you, Remus on his other side. It’d been something entirely intentional on Lupin’s part, though the bickering was something to be expected.

First it had been over who was taking up too much of whose space, something accompanied by a lighthearted series of shoves and stifled laughter when you looked away in hopes the other wouldn’t see it. Then it had been when he’d changed the radio from your favorite song to his with a simple twitch of his fingers, a back and forth battle of rock and ABBA that nearly broke the radio, one that nearly drove your friends insane.

But now, Sirius had found himself staring as he so often does, at the way you waved your hand with the breeze, the way said breeze sifted through your hair and the way you sang along with James to the very same ABBA song that’d been on repeat for the past fifteen minutes. He’d reckon your voice far better than that of the brunette behind the wheel. He doesn’t know just why he always finds himself settling his attention upon you every moment he gets the chance. Or maybe he does and just refuses to admit the reasons for it. But there was something about you, there was always something about you to be admired. You were utterly enamoring even when you’ve got your brows scrunched over something entirely because of him. They never seem to stay furrowed for long.

“If you take a picture, it just might last longer,” you suggest with a raised brow and a smile indicative of your teasing, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, it’s just you’ve got a bug in your hair,” he counters quickly, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Your eyes are quick to widen slightly as your hand rises to your head in mild panic, combing your fingers through your hair in a hurry. His laughter was a telltale sign of his deception, that ever so familiar frown pulling down your lips as you swat at his shoulder. “Sirius Black, you’re a pain!”

His laughter was immediate as he caught your wrist from swatting him once more, “I’m not lying! There is something in your hair.”

He releases your arm in favor of reaching upwards, the tips of his fingers pinching the delicate flower petal tangled within your hair. Your words fell silent as his fingertips traveled down to the very end of your hair, a gentle action that had your cheeks staining what must have been an obvious pink as you found yourself looking at the smile on his lips. One that was soft and lopsided, one that grew as he held up the small pink petal before tilting his head at you. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding your breath until that moment, hadn’t realized the new found quiet had drawn everyone’s attention.

“Told you so,” he states confidently, blowing away the petal and leaving it to flutter to your feet.

You squinted at him and mimicked his words to quickly move on from dwelling on your burning cheeks, something that brought a different kind of smile to his face mere seconds before you’d ruffled his own hair in retaliation.

“I meant what I said,” you remind him, trying to fight your grin as you watch tangled strands of black hair fall back against his cheeks once more.

“I am so terribly hurt,” he scoffs, placing a hand over his heart in a display of faux offense.

In that moment you settle for shaking your head, biting the inside of your cheek in a pitiful attempt to conceal your smile. A smile so awfully contagious he found himself mirroring it, having lingered on his lips even when you’d looked away from him in favor of looking out of the window. In doing so, you missed the way James had been glancing at you both in the rear view, at the way he shared a knowing grin with Lily, who’d then done so with Remus. It was a moment missed by you both, how could it not be with the way your thoughts had entirely been about each other unbeknownst to you.

It’d been quiet after that, save for the radio and James’ occasional startling outburst of song should a part come on that he’s fond of. It’d been peaceful and upbeat as Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, trying desperately not to think of how you’d made his stomach twist and flutter with butterflies. It was nothing, that’s what he told himself.

—

The place was just as beautiful and just the same as you’d left it the previous year, the sun still beaming through tall trees and the birds still chirping just as contently as they always do. Upon closer inspection, your initials had been carved in the very same tree, untouched since the five of you had left your mark on it the very first time you found it. Of course, it’d become weathered over time, moss having flourished over the bark, but the engraved letters remain regardless of that very fact.

The fire pit that James and Sirius had made still sat in the center of it all, it’s crumbled stones and charred logs and sticks sitting in a heap within it, waiting to be lit once more. Even the logs circling around it to serve as seats had still sat untouched by anyone else, unmoved from how they were left the previous trip out there.

It was exciting to finally be back there, to finally be out of the car in a place you longed to see again. All was well, except one thing.

“That is absolutely not happening,” you state matter of factly, the twigs snapping beneath your foot as you frown at Lily before narrowing your eyes at Sirius. One look at his smile, just one look, and you return your displeased gaze to the two in question, James making no effort to stifle his laughter at the situation. “No way, that is ridiculous!”

“Lupin must have forgotten to pack a third, Y/n/n,” Lily sympathizes with the softest of frowns to accompany her words, though you hadn’t missed the grin she’d tossed her friend’s way as he scratched the back of his neck and fought his own. “I’m sorry!”

“Then I’ll sleep in the bus with Remus,” you state quickly with a raised brow, crossing your arms over your chest stubbornly as you squint at Sirius’ very obvious grumbling behind you. His reasons for doing it were entirely unknown to you.

“C’mon, Y/n. Pad’s won’t bite,” James chimes in with a laugh, earning a swat to the back of the head from Lily before he protests her actions in return, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing his head. “Not very hard, at least.”

You purse your lips at the brunette and glared, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. A smile that quickly faded as you glanced over your shoulder at the little tent that hadn’t stood very tall on the other side of the fire pit. Your heart leapt and raced within your chest at the thought of being so close, lips tugging downward as you looked back at them with a huff.

“I would say I can’t believe you, but I can,” you groan, brushing past them to get to the lake before they could become aware of your smile.

—

The last traces of sunshine were warm against your skin as you sat along the water’s edge with Lily, taking a moment to yourselves away from the utter chaos that came with the trio in the water. It was still a bit too cold to swim in but that’d never stop them from doing just that. Despite the chill that ran through you from it, everything around you had been exactly how it’s always been.

Wildflowers had bloomed just about everywhere you could imagine amongst patches of green and overgrown grass, framing the lake in varying hues of blues, yellows, purples, and pinks. When you sat at just the right angle, the reflection of the sky over the water had been absolutely wondrous, painting the water orange and pink. The ongoing breeze had been sifting through the leaves in the trees, leaving some to fall to the ground in its wake.

It was absolutely perfect, and you couldn’t think of just anywhere else you’d rather be in that moment than right where you are. You wouldn’t want to be there with anyone else.

“I think this is our best trip yet,” Lily states, leaning back on her palms as she tips her head back, allowing the sun to sweep across her skin.

“I think so too,” you sigh, letting your eyes fall closed as you hear another aguamenti spell used, followed by a bout of laughter that had a smile pulling at your lips at the sound. Her absence in conversation was sure a sign something was on her mind. It always was without fail.

She hadn’t left you to sit and wonder for too long before she spoke up.

“What do you think about Sirius?” There it is.

Your eyes squeeze shut at the question you anticipated, at the one you hadn’t expected her to wait so long in asked you. A soft huff left your lips as you opened your eyes, brows furrowing as she gave you an expectant look.

“Why do you ask?” You say, the corner of your mouth quirking up at her nosiness.

She shrugs her shoulders as she sits up more, heaps of red hair falling to splay against her back. “Just wondering.”

Her smirk was more than obvious as she looked at you, her smile widening. Lily and Remus had kept an eye on you both for quite a while, they knew that something had been there, it wasn’t that hard for them to figure out. Even if you hadn’t been aware of your own foolish love yourself, they’d certainly picked up on it. Because after every witty remark and every scoff and glare, there was always a smile to follow. After every frown and and nose scrunch as one of you stuck their tongue out at the other, there was always a lingering stare just moments after. Anyone could see that, anyone but to two involved that are far too stubborn and argumentative to realize that.

“Well?” She continues.

“Well what?” You ask, pulling your knees to your chest as you look at her.

“You can’t possibly have nothing to say about him, not after all the banter you do. What do you think of him?” She repeats.

You roll your eyes as you avert your gaze from her, resting your chin on your knees as you look ahead. You mull over your words as a laugh leaves your lips, your head shaking slightly as your eyes fall upon him. He’s got strands of wet black hair stuck to his face, cheeks reddened ever so slightly from the combined heat of the summer sun and the chilliness of the water. His smile was beaming and bright as he tips his head back and laughs at something James had said.

“He’s a pain, Lily,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “He’s a pain.”

She laughed at your words, though she took note of the smile that’d been on your lips as she followed your gaze to the very one in question. She hadn’t failed to notice the smile he had returned to you after having done a double take, an action that was far less subtle than he’d hoped. He couldn’t help it though. Not with the way you’ve got flowers tucked in your hair and the way the sunshine made you glow. But when he found himself looking for what he felt was far too long he’d stuck his tongue out at you, wiggling his fingers before you rolled your eyes.

“Oh really?” She inquires, her smile evident in her voice, laughing when you narrow your eyes only briefly.

You pluck a flower from the ground and hold it under your nose for a moment, twirling its stem as it sat pinched between your fingers. You shook your head once more.

“Yes, really.”

—

The tent was rather average, having danced dangerously on the edge being too small. Every gust of wind, no matter how gentle, had puffed against its very walls, rattling the zippers and the flap of the door until you’d finally closed it completely. You knew for a fact your friends had to have done this on purpose, at this point there was no way they couldn’t have judged by the smiles they’d done a terrible job at hiding.

It was becoming increasingly obvious when you sat around the campfire that evening when Lily sat with James, and when Remus managed to take up the entirety of the log he’d claimed his own. It left you no other option than to sit next to Sirius, his chin in his palm as he hid his taunting smile behind his fingers.

You could tell by the way their gaze fell upon the two of you more often than not, and by the way James had displayed his emotions a little too obviously each and every time Lily had whispered something undoubtedly about the two of you in his ear. By the very way that no matter how much your group of friends could talk and bounce from topic to topic with ease, the conversation would always, without fail wind up circling back to the two of you. You were becoming painfully aware of the plan made by none other than Lily and Remus.

You should have known they’d do something like this; they’ve done it at the spring ball in sixth year. It was the very first time Hogwarts had done something like that, it was magnificent. However, you thought your date had stood you up as you sat with Lily and Remus, the mysterious date they’d set you up with. Said date had finally showed up by the side of James, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head upon realizing just who they’d set you up with. You’d frowned as you danced with him, accompanied by a few laughs when he twirled you, accompanied by a few eye rolls when he said something witty. The night had been far better than it started, but you hadn’t spoken of it since.

They’d done it at Hogsmeade. They’d told everyone to meet at the Three Broomsticks, having diligently reminded everyone to do so. You and Sirius had been the first ones there, having sat awkwardly across from each other as you sipped your butterbeer. It was quiet until the two of you began to bicker over something too trivial to remember, one smiling when the other wasn’t looking. It took about thirty minutes for you to realize that the rest of the group hadn’t been coming, thirty minutes with Sirius Black.

So yes, you should have known better than to think that they wouldn’t do something like this again.

“Sirius?” His only response is a hum in that moment, a rather dismal one at that. “How do you suppose I’ll get any sleep if you keep huffing and puffing? It’s rather hard to ignore, you know.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” he quips, though you could hear the very smile in his words even without seeing him.

You shake your head at that with a huff of your own, but he could see the shake of your shoulders from your stifled laughter that you had fought so hard to keep at bay. No, he most certainly could not know that he’d been making you laugh, that would be absolutely terrible to your cause for he wouldn’t forget that he’d been able to do something other than make you grumble.

It was quiet for a few moments after that, nothing but the crickets singing just outside the little tent and the whisper of the wind in the trees. He hadn’t huffed anymore after that, and you quickly came to realize that it was in fact not the cause of your restlessness, though a part of you already knew that. You knew as you lay in that tent that you hadn’t hated his company, not in the slightest as much as your protests would beg to differ otherwise on the matter.

“Would you really rather spend the night with him than me right now? Remus?” He asks quietly, curious after a little while, and you didn’t miss the small bit of offense in his tone. It was the most subtle of indicators that he’d been jealous. Not terribly so, but it was enough to have your words stick in his mind for a few lingering moments longer than it should. He found himself to be just a little offended, because while he hadn’t expected this to be the sleeping arrangements, he’d hoped maybe you wouldn’t dread it as much as you seemed to have.

“In this particular moment, yes,” you quip softly, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of your mouth when you hear his displeased huff. “I might even sleep outside with the bears should you continue being jealous.”

“That is not happening,” he says, quick to add more once he realizes just what you’ve said. “And I am not jealous.”

As much as you two may have bickered near incessantly, as much as it may have seemed as though you couldn’t stand each other, he didn’t want you to do such a thing. It was dangerous after all. He knows a flimsy tent would do little to protect you, he knows you’re more than capable with magic, but he’d much rather prefer you weren’t out of his sight. It was safer that way.

“Who’s to say?”

Your back remains to him as you close your eyes briefly, your grin having gone unseen. It’d always been your personal mission to get under his skin ever since he was just a boy who had made it a point to get under yours, and now that he was nearly twenty your goals were no different. Maybe they weren’t as childish and filled with a certain annoyance as they once had been in the very beginning, but the habit was still very much there.

“Y/n/n, could you be serious just once in your life?” He asks.

“You know,” you start, rolling over to lay on your other side. Your breath hitched upon realizing your closeness, his face mere inches from your own and you nearly lose your train of thought as he’d done the same. But you quickly gathered yourself as you swallowed thickly, a smile gracing your lips. “I don’t believe I could if I tried.”

He rolled his eyes as he moved to lay in his back once more, his smile bright as his hair splays across his pillow and you follow suit. Your heart had still been beating wildly in your chest at the closeness you’d shared just seconds earlier, cheeks flushed a soft shade of crimson as you dare not look over at him. He supposed he’s grateful for that because he’s too caught up in looking at you, that same smile on his lips that he knows shouldn’t be there. One look at him and you’d have days, even weeks worth of material to tease him with. But he can’t help it.

He also can’t help it when he laughs, his eyes squeezing shut. “What is it?”

He shakes his head as he continues, your own curious smile forming in your lips as you turn your head and look at him. “I’ve got that bloody ABBA song stuck in my head.”

Your smile widens and a giggle falls past your lips as you return your gaze to the sky, the mingled laughter between the two of you having been something not uncommon as of late. “Well I’ve got that dreaded AC/DC song stuck in mine.”

“It is not dreaded, it’s a classic,” he defends, scoffing lightly as a lingering chuckle accompanies his words.

“And so is mine,” you counter, just as much defense in your voice as he held in his.

“That is absolutely false.”

“It is absolutely not.”

He responded with a heaving sigh, a smile on his lips despite it but he let you win the argument this time because surely there would be more. There would always be more when the two of you were together, but he feels as though he can hardly count on one hand the amount of times you had argued over something serious.

Your shared laughter had since died down to silence amongst everything else, leaving you know choice but to think of how close the two of you were. To think of the fact that never in a million years did you believe you’d ever share a tent with each other. You will admit, only to yourself, that you hadn’t hated it as much as he may have thought. A part of you had found yourself thinking that maybe you’d even miss him had you not been less than a foot away. You thought that a lot lately, unbeknownst to everyone else, or so you thought.

It was then, as you lay beneath the stars in a tent you’d felt was far too small to house two, that you felt his knuckles brush against your own, the very tips of his fingers soon to follow it. The simple touch felt far more electrifying than you had cared to admit to, especially for a simple accident caused from the sheer closeness of your proximity. To be quite honest, you felt rather foolish with the way your heart had skipped a beat and fluttered relentlessly within your chest.

And it was then that you risk a glance to your left the same way he had risked one to his right, eyes meeting in a gaze that’d been shared for the very same reason. You both looked away from the other almost immediately, smiles pulling at your lips as you focus your attention on the sky. No attempts had been made to move.

“Something funny, Y/n/n?” He asks, humor in his tone that only made you smile more than you felt you should have been.

“Yeah,” you start, a soft laugh leaving your lips as your eyes flutter closed. “Are you desperate to hold my hand?”

The laughter he exhaled was immediate at your words, but not out of mocking. “Love, if I wanted to hold your hand I wouldn’t waste my time brushing my fingers over yours.”

That most certainly was a lie, it was absolutely false. As brave as Sirius Black can be, as bold as he always was, he was nervous to hold your hand. He felt as though he was tempting fate already by the mere nudge of his hand over yours. To him, the thought of being in love was both exhilarating and terrifying all the same. To care deeply for someone was in his nature despite his hardships, though he’ll never ever admit it aloud. He didn’t need to.

Sirius could and would risk his life for his friends without a drop of hesitation, he always would. But the idea of slipping his hand in yours, of telling you just how he felt—it was a feat that proved to be difficult. You, you were terrifyingly wonderful and breathtakingly beautiful. You always have a quip to counter his wit, and you would never hesitate to cast a harmless jinx upon him.

He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted to tell you until that very moment, that very day for that matter. With the way you sung that song he swears he dreads every time it plays on the radio. With the way you smiled at him, your cheeks stained a rosy pink when you told him he was a pain. Or the way you’d been beaming as you tucked flowers in your hair with Lily by the lake. He hasn’t known how he made it quite this far without telling you, it was beyond him how he did it.

You weren’t just the girl he’d bicker lightheartedly with on a daily basis over the most trivial of things, always ending in scoffs and eye rolls and narrowed gazes that were more humorous than intended. You weren’t just the one who’d turn his hair every shade of the rainbow given the chance, who could outdo him on the scale of stubborn bravery. You were the girl he found himself following wherever you went, who he found himself thinking of far more often than he told himself he should.

He’s pulled from his thoughts at your soft laughter, turning to lay on his side once more. Before he could ask the reasoning behind it you’d already reached up, your fingers brushing through his hair to grab the lone petal tucked pretty and yellow amongst the strands of black. His gaze never left you, gray and admiring as you tucked his hair behind his ear, the tips of your fingers lingering for just a moment before you pulled them away.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, his breath fanning warmly over your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The question was soft yet confident, having had enough of the question merely sitting at the edge of his tongue for days, weeks, months on end. It’d made your heart skip a beat, and you were nearly unsure if you’d heard him correctly. Because Sirius Black, the boy who’d never failed to get under your skin, who never failed to make you roll your eyes or purse your lips, the one you’d seemingly loved all along was asking to kiss you.

The grin on your lips was nothing short of an indication that your words would be that of something jesting. “It depends.”

“Do tell, on what?” He inquires, the glow of the moon illuminating the mischief dancing in your eyes.

You moved to prop yourself up on your elbow, your grin widening a fraction the more you look at him. “Just how long has it been that you’ve wanted to ask me that?”

“Who’s to say I’ve ever given it thought before this very moment?” He counters, though he knows he has a million times. You roll your eyes then, tipping your head back only momentarily before looking at him again.

“Could you be serious just once in your life?” You ask, copying his earlier words.

“I don’t believe I could if I tried.”

You shook your head as your hand settled on his cheek, quieting his further mocking as you pressed your lips on his. His laughter sounded softly against your lips, soon dissolving in favor of finally kissing you, of finally doing just what he’d longed to do for an amount of time he’s far too prideful to admit. He found himself smiling when your hair brushed against his skin, at the feel of your nose nudging his own and your fingertips just barely tangling in his hair.

His hand came up to rest over your own, the action soft and distracted as you parted from him only briefly. Brief enough for you to smile against his lips, for your giddy laughter to puff softly against his skin. Fleeting before he kissed you again—once, twice, three times more.

You pulled away completely then, his hand falling from yours as you swipe the pad of your thumb across the dimple in his chin, your cheeks flushed and his lips kiss swollen and pink. He followed after you for just one more, gray eyes sparkling and smile blissful as you lay back on your side.

“I love you,” he murmurs, “bloody hell I do.”

“Sirius Black,” you say, taking your lip between your teeth as you looked at him. “I love you too.”

With that he tugged your hand gently, pulling you back to his lips in a soft yet lingering kiss, one that made your heart pound and another bout of butterflies to flutter in your stomach as he held your hand to his chest. He’d waited too long to ask you just that, wasted too much time bickering over this, that, and the next thing.

“Our friends will never let us hear the end of this, you know,” he murmurs, forehead resting on yours. “They’ll go on for weeks, love.”

“Let them.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @ch0colatefr0gs @anchoeritic @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime

[mca-attack21]

Damsel in Distress part I

This is a two part Arthur Pendragon x Reader based on the season two episode four of the show. Enjoy! Also you can find more of my writing here: Masterlist

Merlin woke up to a feeling of foreboding. There was something in the air that made his stomach turn with dread. As he prepared to go wake his clotpole of a master, he tried to push this feeling out of the forefront of his mind. But even as he made it down to the kitchen there was this sense of apprehension in the air. He hoped that he would run into you somewhere in the halls and that you would be able to set his mind at ease. He however was not so fortunate.

Instead, he trudged onward, setting Arthur’s food down and opening his curtains before declaring a half-hearted, “Rise and Shine” before quickly gathering some of his clothes to be washed. Arthur didn’t even have time to come up with a jest before Merlin was out of the door. Merlin busied himself, quickly polishing Arthur’s armor and completing other daily chores. He mentally prepared himself to deal with the prince as returned to his door.

“Ah, there you are, I was beginning to think you were avoiding your duties. And what’s this?” he asked, watching as Merlin laid everything out, “You’re actually doing your job for once? Are you feeling alright?” Arthur joked.

His smile soon turned to a frown as Merlin ignored his comments. He shrugged it off and allowed Merlin to help him dress and put on his armor. While Arthur was looking over some papers on his table he noticed that Merlin had already made his bed and was starting to take the dishes from the table.

“Merlin, clearly something is upsetting you,” Arthur pointed out.

“It’s nothing sire, do you need anything else?” Merlin asked with his back against the door.

“No, that will be all,” Arthur dismissed, sending a concerned glance towards his friend as he exited.

Merlin took leave and went back to his chambers to help Gaius. He tried to occupy his mind, but nothing he did seemed to ease that burning pit in his stomach. Something had happened, was happening, or was about to happen, he could feel it.

Somewhat abruptly, he decided that he needed to see you. He went to seek out Morgana, as you were filling in for Gwen while she was taking care of her brother. He knew that wherever Morgana was, you wouldn’t be far away.

It was in his search that he saw a few of the knights rushing for an audience with the king. Something had happened. Merlin followed at a close distance and listened in.

“As you know Sire Morgana, her maid, and a few knights rode for a pilgrimage to her father’s grave early this morning. They were meant to be back by now, but there is no word or sign of them. That was until one of the patrols came across one of the knight’s horses. I am afraid something went wrong..”

“Send men out immediately. Arthur, you will lead the search, do whatever you must to bring her home,” the King ordered concerned for his young ward.

“Of course father,” Arthur answered before hastily making an exit. Merlin was right on his heels, and left to prepare their horses.

---

The mercenaries had both you and Morgana in a tent with a guard posted right outside the doors. The two of you had come up with a plan, it was risky at best. However you were both aware of the fact that the further away from Camelot you traveled, the less likely you were to ever see it again.

“Are you ready for this?” Morgana asked, preparing herself.

“As ready as I’ll ever be”

She was about to step forward when you grabbed her arm, “No matter what happens, I want you to take any opportunity you get. Don’t worry about me. Promise.”

“There is no way I’m leaving without you.”

“Morgana, you have to promise me. I cannot bear the risk otherwise.”

“I promise, but only as long as you promise me the same. We take any opportunity we get.”

With that, the plan was in motion. Morgana demanded that she be allowed to bathe and you both were escorted to the river by two of the men. You took the distraction of her undressing to manage to disarm one of the men and tossed Morgana the sword just in time for her to take out the other. The two of you started running back towards the castle, but there was another mercenary that intercepted you. Being as you were the one with the sword you opted to fight him, thankful for the many hours you had spent training with Arthur when you were younger. Morgana turned back to help you.

“Go, I will be right behind you!” you shouted, watching her hesitate, “Morgana go! Now!”

She turned and ran only looking back when she heard your scream in the distance. She quickly picked up her pace again and ran without looking back. She pushed through the aching in her muscles until she was faced with a crossbow aimed at her face. Relief filling her features as soon as she saw its holder.

“Where’s Y/n?” Arthur asked immediately.

Morgana merely shook her head and Arthur turned before his face could give him away. Merlin pushed down his own feelings and went to Morgana to make sure she was okay and offer her water and food. They set off immediately for the castle and soon came the reunion between Uther and Morgana. She begged him to send out another search party for you, after all you had saved her life.

“I am not going to waste the time and resources on a servant girl who has most likely already been executed as she provides no worth to the mercenaries without you,” he explained to Morgana. The words cut Arthur deeper than any sword ever had.

“Please, there is still a chance. Arthur?” she turned towards him hoping he would take her side.

“I’m sorry Morgana, father is right” Arthur managed before turning and exiting a very angry Merlin on his heels.

“How could you say that? How could you possibly agree with him after everything that you and Y/n have been through? I knew you were a clotpole, but this, this is unforgivable!” Merlin all but shouted.

“Merlin Shut Up!” Arthur raised his volume before regaining his composure as he entered his chambers, “Of course I don’t agree with father, but there was no point in making a scene about it. We will pack and leave at first light. We will find her, one way or another.”

Merlin was speechless for a moment, before uttering an apology for overreacting before. He was then quick to leave and make the preparations for the next day as it was already early night.

The next morning he was surprised to see that Arthur had managed to not only wake himself up, but dress himself. He was looking over maps as Merlin entered. Soon the two of them were off on their quest to save the damsel in distress. The rode for the better part of the day before coming to a caves that were inhabited by wilddeoren. As they made it through the other side Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding, “I can’t believe the Gaia berries actually worked.”

“Hold up, you mean to tell me that you didn’t know that they would work before you lead us in a cave with giant flesh eating rats!”

“I mean not for sure, I heard stories, but I figured we’d find out one way or another.”

“Now you tell me?! Oh! Oh, what's that wilddeoren eating? It's all right. It's just Merlin. You trying to get us both killed?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't've risked your life like that,” Arthur said a new hint of seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t realize that even the great Arthur Pendragon could fall victim to the blindness of love,” Merlin joked.

“What in the world are you going on about?

“Your feelings for Y/n. Why can’t you admit that you like her? I mean you are risking your life and even your father’s wrath just for a one in a hundred chance of rescuing her.

Arthur scoffed rolling his eyes, “She is just a friend, I’d do the same for you. In fact I seem to remember disobeying my father before in order to get you an antidote when you decided to get a few days off my drinking out of a poisoned chalice.”

“That was different and you know it. Besides, anyone who has ever seen the two of you together can pick up on it. Why is it so hard to admit you like her? It’s only me, just say it,” Merlin encouraged.

“I can't! How can I admit that I think about her all the time. Or that...I care about her more than anyone. How can I admit that...I don't know what I'll do if any harm comes to her?” Arthur confessed struggling to keep his emotion in check.

“Why can't you?”

“Because nothing can ever happen between us! To admit my feelings knowing that...hurts too much.”

“Who's to say nothing can happen?”

“My father won't let me rescue a servant. Do you honestly believe he'd let me marry one?”

“You want to marry Y/n?”

“No! I mean maybe someday...I...I don't know...Regardless, it's all talk, and that's all it can ever be.”

“When you're King, you can change that. If she feels the same way, she would wait for you.”

“I can't expect her to do that, it’s not fair to her. Besides, we don’t even know if she’s alive,” he said regretting the words even as they left his mouth because they caused his stomach to drop.

“I’m sure she’s fine Arthur. She knows that you’ll come for her and that hope will keep her alive.”

The words seemed to offer Arthur some comfort, “Come on. We've got a long trek ahead. Oh, and Merlin...if you dare tell anyone about this, I promise I will make your life a living hell.”

“You mean more than you do now?” Merlin joked, earning a playful smack from his friend.