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thebestofoneshots · 4 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.9 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: It was nice to be in Remus' arms, but now it's time to face the real world. Will you be able to do it? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Disclaimer: Vixen’s coping mechanisms are not healthy, please go to therapy and actually process your feelings instead <3

Chapter 47: Let Me Take You Home Tonight

You walked alongside Remus through the tunnel. The floor was cold against your bare feet, and the more you walked, the more you could feel the pain caused by the blisters in your soles. You wondered for a moment if that’s what ballerinas felt after wearing pointe shoes.

Remus kept throwing glances at you as you walked, you thought you were good at hiding it, but he could hear your jaw clenching and your ragged breath as you moved, sometimes cutting short from stepping on something sharp.

“Do you want to take my shoes?” he asked you.

“What?” you asked confused as you turned to him. “No, I’m–” you wanted to say fine, you weren’t sure you could make it sound believable, “It’ll be better once Pomfrey gets a look, I’m sure.”

“But until then, you’d be in pain.”

You sighed, “You know fae don’t normally wear shoes.”

“You’re only a quarter fae,” he responded. “And they live in the woods, and fly.”

You huffed in response to that, he wasn’t wrong. But still, you weren’t going to take his shoes. Your feet were already hurt, his weren’t.

“Can I borrow your wand?” you asked as you turned to him, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.

You took it in your hands and waved it over your feet “Episkey,” you whispered, the same spell you had used to fix Peter’s nose before his date. It didn’t completely heal your feet, but the blisters were gone and walking wasn’t as painful as before.

You didn’t like using healing spells, they tended to be complicated and could go awfully wrong, especially without your actual wand, but you already knew Remus’ wand liked you since she had allowed you to use it in the past, so you decided to risk it, if only to bring Remus some peace of mind.

“Thank you,” you added as you straightened back up and handed over his wand.

“Are you sure you don’t want them?” he insisted, half pulling one and you just shook your head again in response. His offer was sweet, awfully sweet, but you wouldn’t have him feel pain at your stake, two people had done that for you in the last 24 hours, and neither of them had survived.

Remus still wasn’t convinced, but he walked alongside you, nonetheless. He knew you were still in pain, and he wanted to do anything he could to help you, but he also knew what it was like to be in pain and be constantly reminded about it by people, so he decided to let you have it, he’d take care of you once you were with Pomfrey.

By the time you arrived at the end of the hallway, you saw the small hole you’d have to climb, the one that was much easier to climb as Vixen than as yourself, and you wondered how Remus had gotten used to it.

“Wait here,” he said as he climbed up the area with ease, placing his feet and hand on strategic places to make his ascent much easier. He was insanely good at it, almost like Spider-Man. A few seconds passed and then you saw his hand drop back inside, “All right, the Willow is calm now, come on up.”

You used one of the spots he had used to propel yourself forward and grabbed onto his outstretched hand, your own closing around his forearm as he did the same to yours. And then he helped you up almost the rest of the way. Hauling you towards him like you weighed nothing.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you stepped outside, the light being a little harsh on your dark accustomed eyes, which had you narrow them as you looked ahead. The ground was still filled with snow, and you still didn’t have shoes. You looked at your bare feet for a second before turning to Remus.

“May I borrow your wand again?” you asked with a sigh.

“What are you going to do? Melt the snow?” he asked in disbelief.

“I was planning to use a warming spell…” you admitted.

“Ridiculous.”

“I’m still not going to take your shoes.”

“Yeah I know, you’re stubborn as hell,” he said with a huff as he crouched down in front of you, “Come on, hop in.”

“You’re planning to piggyback ride me all the way to the castle? You are the ridiculous one!”

“What? Like it would be hard,” he said as he turned his head towards you. You gave him a suspicious look in return. “Hello? The best friend who also happens to be a werewolf? Superhuman strength, and all that, ringing any bells?”

You sighed, “But Remus–”

“But Remus me one more time and I will carry you without consent, you have been warned.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wanna test it?” he asked, as he raised one of his eyebrows.

He just might, you thought as you shook your head and did what you were told.

“See?” he said as he straightened up and started to walk, “Was it that hard?”

“Yes,” you said with a pout as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Remus was awfully comfortable, but you supposed he had always been, “I don’t want to be burdensome,” you mumbled, “the moon was just a couple of days ago, you must still be sore–”

“You are not burdensome,” he said almost instantly. Emphasising the “not” in the very articulated way he used to talk when he was in presentations.

“You’re too nice,” you mumbled as you dug your head deeper into his shoulder, your lips brushing against his neck causing him to shiver. “You cold?” you asked.

“No,” he responded.

“Are you sure?” you insisted, you had felt him tremble, “I could cast a warming spell around the two of us,” you added as you extended your hand in an attempt to get a hold of his wand, but that just caused your lips to brush against his neck again.

“I’m good,” he repeated as he shoved you back with his shoulder, not too sharp, but enough to drive your mouth away from his neck. That’s when you noticed.

You frowned, and then a devious smile appeared on your lips, “Are you… ticklish?” you asked tentatively.

“What? Why do you want to know?” Remus asked with a frown, his head turning your way.

“Just curious,” you replied with an innocent shrug. Remus gave you a side glance and then turned back to the castle. You had already crossed the entrance archway and were a lot closer than you’d been before. You smiled, and leaned a little closer to him again, taking in a deep breath and blowing some warm air straight to his neck.

Remus’ hair stood on end as you did that, and his step faltered as if he was about to trip, but he recovered, “What the–” he couldn’t even finish since you did it again.

“Vixen!” he complained, you just laughed. It was torture, but there was something magical about your unabashed laugh that he wasn’t sure if he really wanted you to stop or not. When you did it again, this time blowing closer to his ear, he couldn’t hold back the cackle that escaped his lips.

“Oi! Please stop!” He managed to say in between chuckles.

“But I’m trying to warm you,” you said innocently and blew again.

Remus tried to use his shoulder to push you away from his neck but was unsuccessful, he didn’t want to let go of your legs since he knew then you’d slide off him so he continued moving his shoulders in an attempt to stop you.

“Little Witch!” he whined.

“What?” you asked, “You’re cold, I’m just trying to help.”

“Such a vicious lie–” he couldn’t even finish, since you blew again, this time, he actually tripped and the two of you ended up spiralling down in the snow.

Remus attempted to break the fall, but the way he tripped didn’t help him much, so you were the one to hit the snow first, and due to the way you were grabbing onto him, he ended up in between your legs with his head being cushioned by your stomach.

There was a second of silence, in which you tried to breathe in some of the air that had escaped your lungs from the sharp fall, but you started to laugh right after. Remus raised his head from your stomach to look at you, to check if you were all right and was surprised to see you smiling so brightly.

“Look at you,” you said as you grabbed his head with both of your hands. “You’re so red, I had no idea you were that ticklish! The mighty werewolf, who would have thought?”

“I thought you were hungry,” he said as he tried to shake your hands off. He hadn’t blushed just because you were blowing air in his neck, or perhaps it had been because it was you the one doing it.

“I am, but messing with you is better than eating,” you replied with a smile and then shivered involuntarily.

He noticed instantly and scrambled into a standing position. Pulling you up so fast it took you some time to regain balance, “Remus!” you argued at his harshness but he ignored you, pulling you up and slinging you across his shoulder. “Remus!”

“I warned you, Sweetheart,” he said simply, starting a much quicker pace to the castle, even inside, he didn’t let go of you.

“Remus, what are you–” you asked as you noticed the path he was taking, “I would have walked to the infirmary,” you said with a huff.

“Rather not to risk it,” he said simply.

When you reached the infirmary, he dropped you into one of the beds and went straight to talk to Pomfrey as you stretched and sat on the edge of the mattress.

She looked at you with a worried sigh as she passed her wand over your body. “You were slightly hypothermic when he found you,” she said as she leaned down to check both of your feet. It felt weird, you had gotten hurt so often lately and you had avoided the infirmary like the plague most of the times that, being checked by a medic felt odd. Like you couldn’t deal with your pain by yourself, which was absolutely ridiculous, even Remus went to the infirmary and he was tougher than you.

You hummed in response to that, “Rem helped me warm up,” you added. She gave a side glance to the boy, he was blushing, and Remus didn’t blush often, she nodded.

“Remus, darling, could you please leave us alone for a second?” He hesitated but nodded, and walked outside. “Darling, he did more than just warm you,” she said. “News fly fast here, I heard of everything that happened, how’s your magic?”

You took a deep breath, “It’s… It’s all right,” you said honestly. “It was almost gone after the Fiendfyre but it’s much better today.”

She nodded, she could feel it, you were pretty much refuelled, it would have taken any normal witch days to refuel after something like that, she had heard about you being mixed race but she suspected your speed recovery had a lot more to do with Remus than it did with you.

“Please lay on the bed.” She was checking your knees and dabbing some potions on them with a small cotton ball. “Why did you come here?”

“Here?” you asked with a frown.

“Instead of Saint Mungo’s, instead of home?”

“I don’t think I have one of those anymore,” you admitted as you avoided her gaze. “My father cannot be happy with what I did. Hogwarts was the safest place for me. And… I should probably speak to Dumbledore.”

“You should rest first,” she corrected, “politics can wait.”

You threw her a worried glance, and she gave you a “no-nonsense” sort of gaze, you had you hold back your argument.

Still, it wasn’t politics, it was a matter of life and…

You didn’t want to think much about it either. She checked your breathing, and your face, even pulling your sleeve up slightly to check the bite you had given yourself.

“That’ll take a bit longer to heal,” she said, she easily noticed it hadn’t been a simple human tooth to tear through the skin, and while she wasn’t sure how exactly you had managed to do it, she knew it had to do with a transfiguration.

“I assumed it would,” you agreed and covered your arm with your sleeve again. You were pretty sure Remus hadn’t seen it, and you didn’t need him to see yet another way in which you had been hurt. Seeing you bawl your eyes out last night was enough. Merlin, he must think I’m so weak.

“I don’t know the full scope of the story, luv,” she said slowly as if she wasn’t sure if he should speak or not. “But… From what Dumbledore told me in his note, which he heard from someone who was also at the dinner, you ended up in the situation you did because you tried to help a muggle-born who was being tortured by the Dark Lord. That was very brave of you.”

You turned to look at her, there was somewhat of a reverential tone in the way she was looking at you that made your throat knot. You weren’t a hero, you didn’t want to be perceived as one either, especially not with how things had ended up.

Nina was gone and you would have diеd if Barty Crouch of all people hadn’t helped you get the fuck out. You would have cried over her until Lucius used a spell that wiped you off the map. You had tried to make justice and you had succeeded at nothing but making things worse and getting people killed.

You tried and failed. You weren’t a hero, you were a failure. You hadn’t been brave, you had been reckless and stupid. But if things happened all over again, would you have allowed Nina to be tortured? Would you have allowed Bellatrix to kill her?

Of course not.

“She still diеd,” you said, avoiding her gaze entirely.

Pomfrey placed her hand over yours, “I don’t know many that would have tried, darling,” she reassured. “She was lucky to have you as a friend.”

You didn’t want to cry again, but her words had been enough to crack you up. She brought you close to her chest and rubbed your back as you sobbed. You hated it, the feeling of tears streaming down your face, it made you feel weak.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and tried to wipe your face again. Pomfrey had been patient and kind and she even handed over a small, cloth handkerchief for you to wipe the tears away. “Here, take this, darling,” she said as she handed over a bottle of pepperup potion. “It’ll help the rest of the chills go away,” she explained. “One sip every two hours, It’s just for precautions.”

She had cured your feet and knees, the bite you had given yourself didn’t hurt anymore and after taking a bit of the potion, the shivering was gone.

“Will I have to stay the night?” you asked her.

She gave you a long look, after what you’d been through, the last thing that you’d want was to stay at an infirmary. Would she rather have you stay? Sure she would. But while she was worried about your physical state, she also knew the emotional one was important, and you looked like you needed a bit of normalcy and quiet. She sighed, “You may go back to your common room.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then Remus walked inside. He had a backpack slung across his shoulder as he walked inside. “Will she stay the night?” he asked.

“Just got cleared up,” you replied. He could see you had been crying again.

“Really?” He asked Pomfrey with a frown. He had planned to stay at the infirmary overnight with you.

“Really,” Pomfrey nodded. “But no walking around barefoot. A warm bath will probably do you good.”

Remus gave you the “I told you so” look and pulled a pair of slippers you must have left in his room one of the nights you stayed over.

You smiled and stood up while popping them on, then the two of you walked towards the exit.

“Remus?” The Mediwitch called as he was about to step out.

“Yes?” he asked, turning his head towards her.

“Keep taking care of her like you’ve been doing.”

He smiled and nodded, “Will do!”

“I brought you some of Sirius’ clothes,” Remus said as he nodded to the backpack behind him, "I thought she’d have you stay the night.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “But it looks like I wasn’t that bad off to begin with. She said you helped a lot last night.”

Remus shrugged in response.

You got to the common room and it was completely empty, “No other Gryffindors stayed over?” You asked as you walked the stairs alongside him.

“A first year and a third year,” he said. “They must be in Hogsmeade with Minnie now,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh,” you responded simply. He opened the door to his room and the two of you walked inside.

“Remus,” a voice said from the radio. “Remus, are you there?”

You smiled, it was Sirius. You turned to Remus, questioning and he nodded. You walked straight to his bed, where the radio lay and sat down right in front of him, looking for the microphone. Once you got a hold of it, you pressed the side button like you had seen people do in movies. “Roger that soldier, the squad is on their way,” you said in a deeper voice.

There was no answer from the other side, Remus pulled out the mirror to see what was happening. Sirius was looking at James with a confused face.

“Soldier, do you copy?” you insisted.

Remus barely kept a straight face.

“…Starshine?!” Sirius asked, half doubtful.

You smiled, debating whether to continue with the prank or not, “Indeed, Pups,” you replied, in your voice.

Remus saw the instant relief of Sirius through the mirror, and James leaned a little bit closer to the radio as well.

“How ARE you?” he asked.

Right, Sirius had seen it all.

“Well, Remus and Pomfrey took care of me,” you replied with a shrug, even if he couldn’t see it. Your demeanour had changed like rapid fire, it’s like you did everything you could to shove last night to a dark part and completely forget about it but people kept bringing it up.

He saw Sirius sigh on the other side, and he turned to the mirror, spotting Remus looking at him attentively, he pressed the button. “Kit, that’s not what I–” He sent Remus a questioning look, Remus shook his head in response. He could talk to you about it later when you actually wanted to talk about it. “Did you like my gift?”

“I loved it!” you said, happy he didn’t ask much more about last night. Remus walked next to you on the bed and handed the mirror over.

You looked at both Sirius and James sitting on the bed, Sirius looked like he had slept about as well as you had, there were deep dark circles under his eyes. If he had seen what you had… He might be the only person besides Remus, who understood what you were feeling, or at least had a vague idea of it, and yet… you refused to talk about it.

Not now, not through the damn radio, you tried to justify yourself. You were well aware ignoring your feelings wasn’t quite healthy, but you didn’t know a better way to cope either. Crying until you were tired wasn’t exactly a better option either, not now when you still had things to do. Maybe after the war was over, after your friends were safe, then you’d allow yourself to cry.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked with a smile. You nodded in return, looking at him through the mirror. He was wearing one of the shirts you’d gotten him. “I loved what you sent me,” he responded. “I’ve already been practising some watercolour stuff.”

Good, this was good, as if nothing had happened.

“Me too,” James intervened by snatching the microphone away from Sirius. “I mean I haven’t been practising watercolour, but I loved your gifts.”

You send him a wink through the mirror and spend about half an hour chatting with them about anything other than what had happened.

At some point, the boys had to go for lunch and you said a quick goodbye to them before allowing yourself to recline back on Remus’ bed. You wanted to keep your mind entertained, “We should go to the library,” you said out of a sudden, “or to eat, you said I could eat after Pomfrey.”

“You should bathe first, she said a warm bath should help you feel better,” Remus said as he placed his hand on your head to check your temperature. You were still borderline cold.

You checked the clock and took a sip of the pepperup potion Pomfrey had given you. Smoke came out of your ears for a couple of seconds. You were thankful for the fact that you didn’t have to drink it all in one go, you didn’t like the smoke thing one bit. It wasn’t painful, but you didn’t find it exactly comfortable either.

“Yes Mum,” you said as you let yourself sink deeper into the bed.

“Well then?”

“I don’t want to leave,” you whined, and you really didn’t. Being alone would only have you spiralling deep in your head, and in your thoughts, and nothing good could come from that. You turned to look at him, “Why don’t you read to me instead?”

“Why don’t you get an audiobook?” he retorted almost without thinking, “Besides I thought you were hungry.”

“Doesn’t sound as nice as you do, and I’m starving,” you said as you turned back to the ceiling with a sigh. Remus attempted to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks by turning to the side.

“I’ll read to you after you take a warm bath like Pomfrey instructed. I’ll even read while you eat if you want.”

You pouted in return, but you did want to change into anything other than the black dress you still had on –even if Remus’ jumper over it was warm– so you decided the deal was fair.

You stood up and walked towards the door. “What are you doing? Just use our bathroom,” Remus said as he pointed to said place’s door.

“Clothes,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Want me to get them for you?”

“And you’ll pick my underwear?” you teased with a smile. Remus couldn’t help but blush at the thought and you laughed openly at him. “Ugh, you’re such a prude. I can barely believe you were fucking Alice for like 3 months.”

“Oi!” he complained with a frown. “She never asked me to pick out her underwear.”

“Poor thing,” you said with a pout.

“As if Sirius had ever picked your underwear.”

“Oh, do you wanna know what else he got me for Christmas?” He hadn’t gotten you anything of the sort, but the more you spoke, the redder Remus became, and you thought it was adorable.

“Get your clothes, I’ll run the bath for you,” he said as he pretty much pushed you out of the room.

“Not too hot!” you said as he closed the door in your face. He heard you say a short “hmph” and walked down the stairs. He leaned his head against the door and had to breathe deeply for a couple of seconds to cool down.

Had Sirius really gotten you underwear for Christmas? He didn’t tell him about it… And they had discussed presents rather often. Then again, would he even mention that sort of stuff to me? he wondered. He stayed at the door for a few more minutes and then he walked to the bathroom, sitting down on the edge of the tub as he opened the water tap, first hot, and then just a bit of cold.

Remus was a hot water shower kind of guy, borderline scalding, so when he measured the temperature, he picked it a little hotter than the standard person would. But then again, he didn’t know how long you’d take, so the water might cool down by the time you came back.

No such luck, you had been quick on your feet, as soon as you got to the room stripping the black dress you’d been wearing. It was a stunning piece at the beginning of the night, now it had been torn and worn out from the fall, there was dried bIood clinging to the skirt and to the edges of the sleeves, both yours and Nina’s. You didn’t want to see the dress again, so you threw it in the laundry with a note for the elves, asking them kindly to get rid of it.

You would have done it yourself, but you still didn’t have a wand and attempting evanesco without one seemed like the recipe for disaster.

After that, you grabbed a simple pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. You also took a jumper that you had swiped from Remus and then placed it all in your backpack along with some toiletries. You were thankful you hadn’t packed any of your clothes to take home, although there were some things there you would miss. The clothes you had been wearing on the trip –Remus’ brown jumper and Sirius’ shirt–, the cute stuffed animal you’d gotten from the Slytherins, the books, and… of course, Sirius’ lovely drawing.

You almost broke down to cry again, the realisation that you’d never be able to go back home, that you would never eat your mother’s soup, hitting you like a truck as you thought of the things left behind. But as your eyes watered and your breath started running short you stood up hastily. Tears wouldn’t come if you didn’t give them enough time.

You took a bathrobe, wrapped it around yourself, and then took hold of the clothing assortment you’d picked, walking back to the boys’ room faster than you could process your feelings. You had to make sure the other students weren’t around as you crossed the common room, without a wand, there was no disillusionment charm, and without that, you could easily be spotted.

You walked inside the boys’ room as fast as you could, and you heard the water running, you assumed Remus was still inside, so you knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Remus said softly. “You okay?” he asked the minute he saw your face.

“Totally,” you lied. However, could you be okay? “I got the clothes,” you added as you moved the heap up just a bit to call attention to it. Remus looked at you as he dipped his hand in the water, it was bubbly and it smelled really nice.

“I added some pain reliever potions Pomfrey’s given me,” he said. You gave him a look. Last time you’d taken his medicine, things had been problematic. “I checked a book, it says they’re safe. And I didn’t use that much either.”

“You know, I’m not really in pain,” you said, not physical, at least.

“Yeah bet,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. You reached towards the tub and dug your hand in as well, pulling it out almost an instant later.

“Shit, it’s too hot.”

“It’s just warm,” Remus argued.

You shook your head in response. It was hot enough to be uncomfortable. You pulled his hand out of the water and took it in yours, “Have you already fried your heat receptors?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at you and pulled his hand away from your grasp “Haha, very funny” -he stood- “Hurry up, I’m hungry too.”

He was about to leave the bathroom when you stood up as well, “Wait, may I borrow your wand?”

Remus handed it over without questioning and then exited the room. You turned back at the tub, it was scalding.

“Relashio gelida,” you said, a stream of freezing cold water left Remus’ wand. After a couple of minutes, you stopped the stream and checked the water again. It was still warm but not scalding anymore. You stripped and got in. The smell and the potions relaxing you in an instant. You didn’t want to take too long, so you busied yourself rubbing off some of the dirt and cleaning the dried patches of bIood. You sank completely under the water, blinking as you looked up at the stone ceiling, a little blurry due to the bubbly water. I didn’t hurt your eyes though, whatever potions Remus had used, prevented the soap from actually sinking into them.

Not that you would have minded the little sting, all you wanted was a little moment of quiet under the water. She had always been a calming force for you. You remembered once reading that mermaids couldn’t cry, since they were already inside the water. You liked the idea of being able to cry without people noticing. You stayed there until your lungs cried for air and you resurfaced enough to let your face out of the water, you took a deep breath and sighed, closing your eyes and figuring it was about time for you to finish up.

You changed quickly and found Remus sitting outside, a book in his hands. You were still drying your hair as you stepped into his room. Remus thought you looked adorable as you brushed the towel over your head. The crisp white shirt you’d chosen made you look angelic in his eyes.

“Let’s get some food,” you said as you left your hair alone and brushed it with your fingers. You’d let it air dry as you ate. The castle was warm enough to not have to worry about drying it.

Remus nodded and the two of you walked down to the Great Hall. It was almost empty, there were a few students cuddled up at some tables. Like 5 Slytherins sitting with Ravenclaws, and then there were 3 younger Hufflepuffs at their own table.

“I guess they chose not to go to Hogsmeade,” you said as you sat down.

“Some of them didn’t get permission from their parents,” Remus explained. “Enid and Niall for example,” he said pointing at the Hufflepuffs, “they are half-bIoods, their parents forbade them from going because of all the incidents they’ve read in the papers, they were scared.”

“And they should be,” you said, thinking back to the pile of dеad bodies back in Rosier Manor. The feast wasn’t as big as it was normally, but a decent assortment of food appeared right in front of you as you sat. There were desserts, and fruits and pasta and even some pies, but most importantly for you at that moment, there was meat.

You grabbed onto a few sausages bacon and a piece of steak and started munching on it the instant they appeared. Remus helpfully filled up a cup of your favourite juice for you and passed it over, before serving himself one.

He, despite claiming he was hungry earlier, took his time preparing himself a sandwich before he placed anything in his mouth. You felt like you were devouring your food in comparison to the much calmer demeanour he kept as he munched on his sandwich and ate some chips.

“I’m thinking about writing my parents,” he said after taking a sip from his juice. You turned to him and nodded. “But I’m not sure if… I mean would you rather stay here or do you wanna come with us?”

“You mean come to your house?”

Remus shrugged in response “I mean, the change of scenery could help clear your mind… and we could visit James and Sirius at some point too…” He seemed slightly hesitant as he spoke.

“Are you sure your parents would want me at their house, though?”

He frowned, “why wouldn’t they?”

“I mean… Pomfrey’d heard about the dinner, I pretty much openly opposed Voldemort, there’s probably a huge target for my head, that’s why I came straight to Hogwarts.”

“Oh, they won’t care,” Remus said. “We can ask Dumbledore if he thinks it’s safe if you want. If not we can just stay here until the break is over–“

“–I can stay here,” you interrupted. “Remus, your mum must miss you a lot. She hasn’t seen you in months, you’re not going to stay just because of me.”

“Mum has Dad, she won’t be alone if I don’t go,” he said simply. “If you stay, I’ll stay.”

“Talk to them first,” you insisted. “When were you supposed to leave?”

“Tonight,” he admitted. “I’m meant to see Dumbledore after dinner, he’ll let me use his office’s floo network.”

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but the idea of spending tonight alone was unnerving. Of course, you couldn’t keep clinging onto Remus like a leech, no matter how comforting he might be.

“I’m going to the owlery,” he said as he stood up, “I’ll write them, we’ll have an answer before then.”

“I should speak to Dumbledore,” you said as you too stood up, you turned towards the teacher’s table, “you think he’ll be at his office?”

He shrugged, “I’ll come with, it’s on my way anyway.”

You nodded, secretly thankful that he’d offered to walk you there, since you weren’t sure how to get to Dumbledore’s office. Yes, you had been at the school and you knew your way around secret passageways and to and from classrooms as much as anyone, but you hadn’t been to his office since the very start of the year, you didn’t even remember ever seeing it again.

Once the two of you were in front of the statue, Remus waited for you to ring the bell and for the statue to roll around revealing the set of stairs before nodding at you and continuing on his way. It was strangely reminiscent of that time you’d met him, the sexy pirate from the romance novels, you remembered. You had been through so much with him, that the initial meeting seemed to you like it had been years ago, instead of months.

The statue behind you clicked into position and you took a deep breath and walked upstairs, ready to talk to Dumbledore, even if you weren’t eager to relive the night’s events.

“I was expecting you to come,” he said calmly, “please sit,” he added as he gestured towards his chair. You swallowed and did as told. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly, still alive,” you responded.

There was a faint smile on his face, almost imperceptible, but you had noticed the way the corner of his mouth curled, even if just for a second. “I wouldn’t say surprising,” he said, “I’ve been informed you’re a very capable witch.”

You held back the amused scoff that threatened to leave your mouth by clenching your jaw before you decided to speak again, changing the drive of the conversation. “How much do you know?” He curled an eyebrow. “Of last night, I mean.”

“There was a fire at the Christmas Party, people diеd, your mother, among them.”

“It was a Deatheater Party,” you said coldly, “Voldemort was there, they called him Tom.”

He nodded as if he was aware of that. “They were torturing people, you intervened to stop Mrs. Lestrange from using an unforgivable on Nina Blythe. Her mother had already passed, unfortunately. Nobody’s seen her since the disaster.”

You struggled to say the next words, “She didn’t make it.”

The man nodded, somberly, “I assumed as much when you arrived with Madam Pomfrey and she didn’t. You wouldn’t have left her behind.”

He was right, you didn’t even want to leave her behind when she had passed. “Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier helped me escape.”

“The same Slytherins that–”

“–Yes,” you cut him off, you didn’t like being rude to your elders, but you didn’t want to hear from that moon either. The fact that the two boys had helped you still being hard to process. The same hands that had left you bruised one night had grabbed onto you to get you out of there alive, it didn’t make sense. “There were a lot of people there. I don’t know all of their names, but I tried to gather as many as I could. I’m sorry if I can no longer be of use.”

Dumbledore frowned, “No longer be of use?”

“I can’t spy for you anymore.”

“Ahhh,” he said, seeming to understand. “Nightshade didn’t ask to train you just because she thought you’d be a useful spy. Neither did I. We wanted you to join the Order of the Phoenix.”

“The what?”

Dumbledore explained to you what the Order was, that while your family connections had been initially a big reason for your recruitment, it had been your performance in classes, and the friendships you had formed that really got Nightshade to choose you. You had shown no bIood-based bias, you had openly defied pure-bIoods.

“We think you’d be an incredible addition to our ranks,” he added.

You gulped as you stared at his desk, trying to process everything he’d told you, “You… you want me to fight in the war,” you said, as if putting it into words made it any more real than it already was.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he stared at you and nodded, “Perhaps then you’ll be able to continue protecting those you love.”

“But– there are much more experienced wizards, there– I almost diеd last night.”

“Yes, and you were willing to risk your life to protect someone you love,” he said. “That makes you better for the task of fighting a war than most, no matter how qualified they might be.”

You swallowed again, be it bravery or recklessness the reason that you had done what you did, you were now being offered…

“A chance to stop it from happening again,” he finished.

You looked at him with a frown, you were sure your occlumency was up, and you instantly tested your mind shields. They were still up, Dumbledore gave you a long look, and you realised he hadn’t been reading your mind, but rather your reactions and your body language. The way your jaw clenched and your body tensed when he said certain things. You breathed, relaxing your body as much as you could before speaking again, “Okay,” you said simply.

Dumbledore nodded, and you were about to stand, halfway up your chair before you sat down again and leaned a little closer, “I came here because it was the only safe place I could think of that Barty could help me apparate to.”

“It was very wise,” he noted.

“But… Remus will leave tonight. He asked his parents if I could come with them, but I won’t if my being with them puts them at risk.”

“Do you want to go?” He asked calmly.

You were taken aback by his question. Of course you did, you didn’t want to be left alone. “Not if it risks anyone’s life,” you repeated.

He nodded and gave you a long look, “From what I gather, the deatheaters are not looking for you at the present moment. They think you’re too weak, and that you’ll return home by yourself. Your father will probably be there, waiting for you.” He took a deep breath and then continued, “Is there a way in which he can track you? A magic item or something he’s given you?”

“No,” you responded. You had many magic items, but none by which he could track you. Not even the ring your mother had given you.

“Then it should be safe for you to go, as long as you don’t call too much attention to yourself. The Lupins live in a cottage near the sea in Wales at the moment. Small muggle town, no wizards live there to my knowledge.”

You nodded as he gave you all the information, “So, I wouldn’t put them in danger by going?”

“You would not,” he reassured.

“Okay, thank you,” you said as you stood up, something akin to a smile drawing itself on your lips.

Dumbledore merely nodded as he saw you walk towards his door and descend down the stairs, a mischievous look on his face, as if he was both amazed by and compassionate of you.

You walked down and found Remus sitting on a nearby bench, writing some things down in a small notebook. His face lit up when he spotted you, “How did it go?” he asked.

“He knew a lot of it already, I gave him the details and wrote a list of all the names I remembered.

The two of you walked towards the common room by each other and sat near the fire. Remus had extended his legs over the table and you let your head fall over his lap, closing your eyes when he turned on the radio and played one of the tapes you had sent them. “You still want me to read?” he asked.

You shrugged in response. “I’ve got this book,” he told you, pulling it out of his back, “or we could do one of yours?”

“Your book,” you said, you hadn’t even opened your eyes.

“You really want me to read advanced arithmancy?” he asked. You frowned and opened your eyes, he gave you an amused look as you took the book from his hand to revise the title.

“Your nose will grow,” you said as you read the title. It was not Advanced Arithmancy.

“You weren’t even looking,” he said simply. “The book’s fine?”

You nodded, and he started reading. Remus was an incredibly good reader, and you lost yourself on the story as he read, his hand had absentmindedly found your hair and he was carefully brushing his fingers over your scalp, like he often saw you do to comfort Sirius, you had done it to him a couple of times too, and he loved every minute of it.

You were both so immersed in the story that neither of you realised there was an owl knocking on a window until a boy from 2nd year walked down the stairs and asked if anyone was expecting mail.

You turned to look at Remus and he moved the book away to be able to see your face, you lifted yourself up while he stood and walked towards the window, opened it and retrieved a small letter from an owl’s beak.

“Thank you,” you said to the boy with a polite smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said before giving you a court nod and leaving, waving a polite goodbye.

“They said you can come,” Remus said as he sat down next to you again, showing you the letter. You took a deep breath and smiled. You wouldn’t have to spend the night alone. “Want me to help you pack?”

You nodded with a smile and the two of you walked to your room. Remus had been there before, back at the Halloween party, a soft smile played on his lips as he looked back at the memory.

Meanwhile, you took the small bag from the party that you had somehow managed to keep slung across your shoulder during the entire ordeal and started dumping everything onto your bed. Remus looked at you surprised since he had no idea you had also charmed your bag to keep so many things inside.

“Why would you take so many things to the party,” he asked as he pulled one of the three books inside the bag and started to inspect it.

“I was originally planning to sit in a corner and read something,” you admitted, “was not expecting a bigotry celebration.”

“I loved this, by the way,” you said as you pulled out the book of poems he’d made you and placed it on the desk carefully.

“You took it as well?”

You shrugged, “I wanted to read it, I haven’t gotten through all the pages,” you said honestly. Then you leaned down and picked out a small suitcase from under your bed.

Remus smiled as he looked at you, you had been so talkative at Slughorn’s party, perfectly entertaining both adult guests and other kids your age, he could barely imagine you sitting in a corner with a book in your hand, you clearly hadn’t been eager to attend said party in the first place.

“Do your parents celebrate an elegant New Year?” You asked as you pulled a few simpler clothes from your trunk, some jeans, a couple of jumpers, some thermal clothes and a couple of graphic tees.

“No wonder I can’t find my jumpers,” he said as he grabbed three of the jumpers you had pulled out.

“Sorry,” you said with a wince and a small shrug, they were all his. “So, elegant?”

“Not really?” he said with a shrug. “I mean Mum wears something nice, but it’s not like elegant wizard stuff either.”

“You think this would work?” You asked as you pulled out a simple blue dress. It had sleeves that would reach just past your elbows and a square neckline.

Remus nodded with a shrug, “Just wear something comfortable,” he said as he sat on the bed and helped bend some of the clothes you’d picked out.

“Oh, Rem, don’t worry about that, it’s–”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, “just focus on finding the stuff, we should hurry.”

You gave him a look but nodded, picking out some more stuff quickly and starting to bend it all. When you opened your suitcase he realised it had also been charmed, two rows of drawers pulled out and moved to the side, enough for you to place all you had picked and at least another 3 times that. Of course, you wouldn’t need that many clothes, so it didn’t matter if some parts of it stayed empty.

“You’re taking pyjamas?” he asked.

You hadn’t even thought about it, and quickly dug through your trunk to pull some shorts, fluffy socks, long sleeve shirts, and also some thick pants, in case it got too cold. You also walked towards the bathroom and got a toothbrush and a small set of toiletries. When you walked back, Remus was already placing all of your sleep clothes in one of the drawers.

“Thanks,” you said with an awkward smile and pulled a brush from the vanity.

Remus just shrugged in response, “No problem, luv.”

You heard a small tap on the window and walked towards it, a large black owl was leaning against the window seal. He carried a small square package in its claw, Narrow and long, wrapped in black fabric and with a letter tucked in the side. The owl waited for you to open, left the package with a small nod and flew away.

Remus and you exchanged looks before you picked it up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him. You pulled the green ribbon and found a small letter on top, it was more of a note than a letter, though.

We attempted to retrieve your wand, unfortunately, and as you’ll see, we were late, Bella had already broken it in two. You’ll have to get a new one. Barty mentioned that you asked for the one that belonged to the girl. We had to dig through, but we found it. Hope it serves you for whatever purpose it is that you need it.

-E

“They got it back,” you whispered as you took the box and pulled it open. Your wand, like Evan said, was there in two pieces, completely broken. You pulled out the pieces with a sigh, a sad look as you stared at them.

“You’ve had it all your life?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “I got it when I was 9 so I could study ahead.” Remus gave you an incredulous look, and you shrugged. “They wanted me to perform well in my first year. They wouldn’t let me use it all the time, but Mum taught me all the basic spells, and I pinched a book of duels from my father. I accidentally charred a tree before they realised.”

Remus scoffed with a smile on his face. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but imagining a little Vixen with a wand burning a tree down was certainly amusing. Either way, there was still another wand in the box. It was narrow and long, about as long as James’, perhaps a little longer, it was carved like Sirius’ but the insides had a tinge of blue, and seemed to shine as it caught the light. “Is that–”

“Nina’s wand,” you finished, swallowing thickly as you too looked inside the box. “They found it,” you added with a sad smile.

“What will you do with it?” he asked.

You shook your head, “I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I just knew I didn’t want it to be lost forever.”

“Do you know what type of wand it is?” he asked.

You shook your head in response, “Nina almost always kept her in her pocket, she tended to avoid the subject… I never asked her why.” That last part was a little harder to say, mostly because of the thought that came to your head after it, you’d never be able to ask why.

“Maybe we can give it back to a family member?”

“Her mum was there too,” you responded. “Perhaps Sybil would know,” you added with a shrug.

“If–” Remus hesitated, “If I were her, I’d want you to keep it.”

You gave him a look, and picked the wand up, shaking your head, “I doubt it.”

“No, I’m sure,” Remus insisted. “She pushed you out of the way of a spell, she would want you to be protected. If her wand could protect you the same way you protected her–”

“Tried,” you corrected. “I tried to protect her.”

Remus placed his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer to him, “Sometimes we do all that’s within our power and we still lose. It doesn’t make us any less worthy.”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “If I take it” –you took in a breath– “If I take it then I can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen.” Your eyes were watering again. “I’d have to face it, every time I do magic, I’ll have to–”

“Hey,” Remus said softly, as he rubbed his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, luv. Let’s leave it here for now. You can borrow my wand whenever you need magic and we’ll go to Diagon sometime on the break so you can get a wand. How does that sound?”

You blinked the tears away, quickly cleaning one that had slipped and nodded. “I’ll bring it, just in case,” you said, and gently placed the one on the drawer near the bottom. You didn’t want to see it when you looked for clothes.

Remus didn’t think it was healthy to ignore your feelings, he knew what you were doing to yourself wasn’t any better than actually processing your loss, but he had been trying to ignore his feelings for you and Sirius the last few months, and he wasn’t hypocritical enough tell you how you should process things when he himself could barely do it.

Eventually, you took a deep breath and pressed a button on the side of the suitcase. The drawers went back inside and the suitcase closed shut. You took some of the books and placed them inside the smaller bag you had taken to the party. “We’ve got books at home too,” Remus teased with a smile and you elbowed him gently.

“You said after dinner, right?” He nodded, and you turned to the clock, “We should probably go see Dumbledore then… Perhaps we can get some snacks from the kitchen on our way.”

Remus shook his head, “Mum will have dinner for us,” Remus said, "she used to be a chef, she’s always loved cooking.”

“I had no idea,” you said as you grabbed the suitcase and the bag, you left them in the common room and walked with Remus to get his own suitcase and backpack and then the two of you walked towards Dumbledore’s office.

“I see you’ve decided to go,” Dumbledore said as he saw you with the suitcase in hand.

“Remus can be very persuasive,” you replied.

He nodded and moved out of the way to let you walk towards his chimney.

Dumbledore handed over a small piece of paper to you, in neat gold, you read: Lupin’s cottage, Wales.

“Thank you,” you said as you walked over to the chimney.

“Mr. Lupin, perhaps you should go first,” Dumbledore suggested.

Remus nodded in agreement and walked inside, taking some powder from the bag and then throwing it against the floor, “Lupin’s cottage, Wales,” he said, articulating every word carefully.

“Ready?” Dumbledore asked as he offered the bag for you to take some of the green powder. You nodded and dug your hand into the bag, taking a good deal of powder and holding your fist closed tight. “Take care,” he said simply.

“Thank you, Professor,” you said as you walked inside the chimney. “Happy New Year,” you added right before taking a deep breath and saying “Lupin’s cottage, Wales.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I little bit of fluff so we can start processing all that's been going on in GC lately. I feel like it's much needed.

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jaidens · 1 year

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imagine bradley falling in love w mavs daughter 🤭🤭🤭 or like them growing up together and js being like hs sweethearts and stuff idk but like JUST IMAGINE 🤭🤭🤭🤭

I was seven and you were nine looked at you like the stars that shine

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader

warning [s] : mentions of : goose

a/n [s] : requests are open! dal loves herself a bradshaw

Bradley Bradshaw had known the Mitchells since he was still wobbling when he walked. Pete was practically a father figure after Goose passed away. His daughter was like a sister to him, which led to him taking comfort within her. Bradley was known for being her sidekick in elementary school, middle school, and highschool.

In elementary school, it was all fun and games. Bradley and you had a willow tree together that Bradley would hang from the branches while you did your homework. That was always the difference between him and you. The sporty, athleticism in Bradley while you chose the approach to reading and staying quiet.

Bradley brought out a different side in you. He made your head fuzzy and the butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He was your first crush when you were seven-years old. On the playground, he punched the hell out of Lucas Dillinger after he pushed you off of the swing set.

Then, in middle school, filled with hormones and acne you still had a major crush on Bradley Bradshaw, the lead player of the San Diego Middle School baseball team. Most girls in your middle school had a crush on him, and it ended up in him distancing himself from you. It made sense in your head. Bradley was popular and you were on the opposite spectrum of popularity. The longing stares across tables didn't make sense however, as Bradley pushes the wet broccoli on his plate while staring at you.

Highschool is where it started. When Bradley leaped up enough courage to ask you to the Homecoming dance with a poster board and your favorite flowers. The dumb smile he had on his face pulled you away from the embarrassment you had in the math hallway that day.

He picked you up in his suit and tie, and went silent whenever you walked down the stairs. His hair was pushed back slightly and he walked over to you, handing you the bouquet to you and hugging you tightly. “You look... amazing.”

Bradley Bradshaw was in love with Maverick’s daughter. That's what he knows when he sees you in his bomber jacket, a helmet, and some pretty boots as you rev up Mav’s motorcycle. You were both 18; dumb and in love as you start driving down the flight ramp on your dad's bike.

Bradley didn't have the heart to tell you he was leaving the next week.

That night you and him laid on the cold concrete and stared at the open sky. The light pollution was almost barely there, exposing all of the constellations and stars that twinkled. Bradley knew you as the quiet girl who read Junie B. Jones while everyone else played free tag. Now, you were the girl who was out of braces with pretty teeth and pretty everything.

He says your name quietly. You turn your head and see those soft hazel eyes looking into yours, as he swallows the anxious feeling in his throat. “Can I ask you something?” You nod towards him and he shakes his head and says,

“Can I kiss you?”

Those dumb feelings you had arise fuller in your head. A hand on his chest, a turn of your hips, and you connect your lips with his. The soft feeling of him apologizes for anything he had ever done to you in the distant past.

“Yes. Anytime you can kiss me.” You laugh and Bradley runs his hand across your cheek and smooths his thumb against it.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look? It's the only one I got?”

—

“Mommy! Momma! Did Daddy really ask you out with a poster?!” Your girls blabber questions and you quiet them down with a laugh.

“Sh. Shh.. you can ask Daddy about that tomorrow. Get to bed girls.” You tell them when you walk out and then the light off. Bradley stands in the hallway with a smile.

“That story always gets you baby.” Bradley says before you pull him into a deep kiss with a tug of his collar. “Shut up.”

#☆ — dal!!#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x gn!reader #bradley bradshaw x wife!reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #top gun x reader #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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wcbweblog · 7 months

Text

“Throw me a line and bring me back home,”

- Lifelines by I Prevail

feeding this blog w a bit of phone art kekw, the background just about killed me XD

once again I couldn’t decide on a final rendered version, so have some slightly-different-coloured ones below! honestly I can’t decide which one I like best lol

the character designs were done completely by memory, so they’re not accurate sadge. also it is. objectively hilarious to me just how different the art of Stella I’ve been making is to their introduction in the comic lmfao

oh also as promised, @teamfortresstwo here’s what I was talking about yesterday :]

#seriously willow and stella are just constantly throwing hands. you’d never expect it just based off the art I’ve drawn lol #wcbwe #wcbwe art #wcbwe constellation #wcbwe willow #art #digital art #digital painting #ibispaintx #ibispaint art

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milliesfishes · 2 months

Text

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓼𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: fluff <3 pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: princess reader x billy the kid author’s note: enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this one <3 might do more pending interest :) Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Moonlight was your lantern as you rested your cheek against the stone of the window. Stars freckled the skin of the sky and you traced them with your eyes, creating imaginary constellations with pretty names. The delicate scent of roses wafted through your window, making you sigh.

Collapsing your upper half over the windowsill, you stretched your arms out, letting your hair fall over you. You'd just brushed it out, all smooth and silky so it flowed between your fingers. Normally your lady's maid would have helped you prepare for bed, but tonight you'd given her the evening off, determined to do it yourself.

All dolled up in a pretty nightdress, you were practically hanging out the window, eyes roving past the rose-crawled palace walls for any sign. For most of the night you'd paced your pretty pink room, running and pressing your nose against the glass. Eventually you'd unlatched it and pushed it open, letting the fresh air breath into your space.

It was late now. Later than you should have been up. To bode the time you'd tried to distract yourself, organizing your vanity and playing with the ribbons on your sleeves.

A letter laid opened beside you on the pink cushion of the window seat, wax seal broken, paper wrinkled as if the receiver had been clenching it. The words were ingrained in your mind now, you'd read it so many times. It was a comforting thing, imagining his hand toiling over the page, brow creasing as he thought of the perfect thing to say.

Reaching for a strand of your hair, you trailed your fingers down it, anxiously wondering if he was coming at all. He'd never failed to show when he sent word. Had he changed his mind?

You laid back so your head rested on the hard plane of the windowsill, feet on the ground, hair tumbling down the stone wall like a character in one of your storybooks. Closing your eyes, you gave up, one of your hands resting on the letter beside you.

Hoofbeats. Sitting up, you turned your body, nearly falling through the window in anticipation, knees digging into the tiny expanse between the seat and the edge. Though the night was dark, it was clear, and you could see the shadow of a man on a horse, dismounting and wedging his foot into the stone of the garden wall, hoisting himself up over the edge.

You sprung up, racing across your room and flinging the door open. Hair streaming behind you, your feet carried you down the stairs through the secret passage behind the library. Nobody was awake, and the guards were all stationed outside. It was thrilling running through the empty halls alone, skirt grasped in your fingers so you wouldn't trip. The last thing you needed was a bruise on your rosy cheek.

The door only creaked slightly as you snuck through it, creeping under the ivy leaves that kept it hidden. Your footsteps were soft as you padded through the garden. Sneaking behind the pink rosebushes and pushing aside the leaves of the willow tree, your eyes brightened as you saw him, waiting there on the white stone bench. His head was bent, hat pulled low over his eyes as he studied something hidden by his fingers.

When he caught wind of your presence he stood, tucking it into his shirt pocket and sweeping the hat off his head, lowering himself into a deep bow. Voice raspy and low, he murmured, "Princess."

Your feet pattered across the grass as you pushed him to stand up straight, jumping into his arms and burying your face in his neck. He was warm, heating you through your thin nightdress. "Don't do that," you whispered, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. "It makes me feel unworthy."

Billy was smiling into you- you could feel it. One of his big hands stroked your hair, smoothing it from your journey downstairs. "My love, you're worthy of everythin'."

Pulling your head back, you stood on tiptoes, tilting your chin up and knocking his hat off. He smiled fondly and lifted you up off your feet with arms around your waist, dipping his head to kiss you soft and sweet. Nudging your nose against his, you murmured against his lips, "I thought you weren't coming."

"'m sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, lips trailing across your cheeks as he peppered kisses over your face. "Had a lawman tailing me for a few miles...had t' lose 'im 'fore I could come...'m sorry."

"It's okay." You tried to get in a few kisses of your own, but he was determined. This was a ritual every time he saw you; he had to kiss you all over for the same reason churchgoers had to do the sign of the cross in the doorway. "I'm happy for any time with you."

He sat in the grass and pulled you to sit across his knees, not wanting the green to stain your pretty nightdress. Billy held you tight to him, chin resting on your shoulder as he slightly rocked you back and forth. It was soothing even when you had no need of being soothed.

You played with one of his hands splayed over your tummy, memorizing the details of his fingers. Here was your own tradition where his was kisses. Somehow you'd convinced yourself if you didn't know every detail of him, he'd disappear before your very eyes, leaving you sprawled on the ground alone.

"I missed you," you said plainly, careful to keep your voice low. Though the guards were stationed far away, you knew they weren't above investigating any strange noises that pierced the night.

"Missed you too, baby," he cooed into your neck, lips nudging the spot. "All those nights without my sweetheart...coulda run right through the front gates 'n climbed through your window."

"Oh my darling," you murmured lovingly, turning and putting your arms back around his neck. "I rode out over the hills a few times hoping to see you."

"That's dangerous," he breathed, kissing your nose. "Honey. There's bandits in those woods."

"You're in those woods," you protested lightly, shifting on his lap.

Billy sighed softly, shaking his head and smiling softly. "'xactly. Lotsa scary stuff in there."

"You aren't scary." Nuzzling your cheek against his jaw, you clasped his hand in yours. The feel of his scratchy stubble against your smooth skin was one you adored.

He chuckled, rubbing your back. "'m an outlaw darlin'."

"But you're different," you insisted, and he tucked your hair behind your ear. "You don't keep what you take."

"'s the least I can do," he murmured, a lost look shadowing his eyes. "Don't want less fortunate folk to hafta do what I do t' survive."

Heart warming, you kissed his nose with the gentlest of touches. "That's what makes you different. You're a better person than you've ever given yourself credit for."

Billy smiled in a tired sort of way. He said nothing, just framed your face with his hands, nose bumping against your cheek as his lips found yours. He kissed you lazily for a moment, and you lost yourself in it, the scent of the roses acting as a sort of aphrodisiac. "I love you."

"I love you," you breathed, and he got a tender look on his face, thumbing the side of your cheek. Billy always reacted this way, like he couldn't believe you meant it.

He captured your lips once again, holding you so close that you were nearly melded into one person. The way he touched you was sacred, like you were a china doll he was afraid would break under his rough fingers.

Oftentimes you would daydream that Billy was your knight, like in the storybooks lining your shelves. He would appear before you in the court, gallantly sweeping you off your feet and carrying you away from the restrictions and traditions of your life as it was.

He was everything you'd ever dreamed of, handsome and solid and good. You held him tight whenever you could, wary of the forces threatening to tear you apart. Heaven only knew what the king would do if he discovered your secret. Banish you to marry a prince from a foreign land, maybe. Or worse...send Billy to the hangman's noose.

You held him closer at the thought. He pecked your lips twice, softly bringing you down from the kiss. Big hands smoothed your waist over your nightdress, ghosting the soft fabric. He smiled, leaning back slightly to take you in. "Ya wear this just for me, sweet girl? 's pretty."

Nodding enthusiastically, your hands going to the handkerchief around his neck and playing with it. "And I can see you cleaned up."

"Only the best f' my girl," he grinned, touching his lips to the tip of your nose. "Knew I was meetin' the princess. Course I tried t' look my best."

"I think you're handsome any way," you promised. Billy's fingers fiddled with the lace edging on your sleeves, tickling the ribbon. He looked at it fascinatedly, making you giggle. "Shall I wear this next time we meet?"

"Yeah." The word was out of his mouth instantly, and you laughed softly. Billy trailed his fingers up and down your waist. "You're so pretty, baby. Like an angel." Pulling a rose seemingly from thin air, he tucked it behind your ear.

"You make me feel pretty," you smiled, reaching up to touch the flower. He always had.

"I wish I could do more for you, sweet girl," he murmured, adjusting the rose.

"I have your letters," you kissed his cheek. "And my time with you. What more could I ask for?"

Billy just watched you affectionately for a moment. His hand was under your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his eyes. The blue of them were an icy chasm you longed to throw yourself into. It was those eyes that whispered their way into your fantasies, appeared in your dreams. You could lose yourself in them forever and not mind one bit.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pushed your hair behind your shoulders, telling you to close your eyes. Something cold touched your collarbone, and your hand flew up to hold it. There was the sensation of a chain touching your neck, and he carefully pulled your hair up and over it.

You only opened your eyes when he told you to, looking down at yourself. A little silver heart rested there on your skin, and you gasped in delight. "Oh, Billy..."

"You like it, baby?" he brushed a strand of hair behind your flower-less ear. The other arm wrapped around your middle and squeezed your back to his chest.

"Love it," you whispered joyfully, leaning your head back against his shoulder. Now that he had access, Billy brought his mouth to your neck, silently kissing the space. His hand rubbed your side absentmindedly. "Who did you take it from?"

His words were muffled against your skin. "Countess of Rothshire."

Fingering the chain, you said, "She was mean to me at last fortnight's ball."

"I know," he mumbled, lifting his head to glide his lips over the space behind your ear. "Thought it'd look better on you."

You giggled in delight. "My hero. Avenging my honor."

"Ain't no hard thing," he insisted, pulling back and settling one hand on top of your head, thumb brushing your hairline. Billy kissed your temple soundly, leaning his head against yours. "The least I can do, honey. You're my princess, too."

Looking at him with his earnest eyes and loving heart, you knew he was forever yours. Even if you became a spinster and only was ever able to meet him behind the leaves of the willow trees, he would come back to you over and over. Your soft, lace trimmed world was brighter when he held you this close, kissed you this sweet.

"Only the best for my sweetheart," he breathed, the stars in his eyes alike to the ones in the darkened heavens above. "I'm only one of many men before you."

With that he laid back in the grass, pulling you to rest on top of him. He kissed you tenderly until the sun broke through the leaves of the trees, alerting the princess and outlaw that it was the time of day when he was forbidden to touch you anymore.

Next Part

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy bonney #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagines #william h bonney fanfic #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #billy the kid x princess reader au #Spotify

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musetember · 1 month

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your generation has, like, zero attention span for epic tales

Questies! Welcome to Musetember, our prompt challenge during September based on the Ancient Greek muses and the ways their stories and themes can inspire fanfiction and art.

We have nine different themed prompts and a special tenth - The Chorus - that invites you to participate through commenting or lists of recommendations.

Unfamiliar with the muses? We’ll take you on a journey through them all. Every muse inspires, but each has a domain that resonates with her the most. Write a story that embodies the muse who speaks to you most strongly, or write something inspired by each one in turn. You can interpret their domains as broadly or as literally as you like; the main thing is to create in whatever way feels best to you.

Calliope invites you to tell us an epic tale. Whether it’s the final battle between good and evil on Andowyne or a re-telling of an ancient legend from the old gods and heroes of our world, this is your chance to go ageless and big. What’s an epic tale? Classically these were long works like The Odyssey, passed down in stories upon stories. Don’t have the attention span for a tale quite that epic in length? Maybe your tale is epic in scale or ambition, rather than word count.

Melpomene looks deep into your heart and asks you, what is the worst that could happen? The muse of tragedy, she has seen over and over again the ruinous and inescapable paths people create for themselves and the ones they love. How could Sorsha doom her daughter to a loveless marriage? When hope is lost, what survives?

Thalia is here to make you laugh. With her, it’s time to embrace the most ridiculous premises, the silliest goobers and the bawdiest jokes you can imagine. Really revel in the humorous side of Willow, a comedy of errors, even a vaudeville au - just don’t forget that happy ending.

Erato - more like E-rated! Erato is the muse of erotica, so it’s time to get your smut on. Write a moment of intense passion, of aching desire, of the deepest, horniest bond imaginable.

Clio is your invitation to look into the past. As the muse of history, she’ll be with you whether you’re exploring the story of the first six fey to be cast out of the Grove, or if you’re deep in the research for a historical au in our world.

Polyhymnia welcomes you to explore religion and ritual. Speak to us of the Order of the Wyrm, of beliefs that shape the lives of the Bone Reavers… or of Catholic schoolgirls just trying to catch a moment together.

Euterpe sings. The stage is set and the orchestra is waiting - it’s time to celebrate music. Embrace the inspiration found in song lyrics, in band dynamics, in a brand new video edit, or ask yourself: does Kit really know how to play those instruments in her room?

Terpsichore extends her hand to draw you into a dance. From sexy grinding in a modern au to an aching slow dance in the rain, dance can be about self-expression or tight, rigid control.

Urania looks far beyond this world and draws your attention to the stars, to the two moons lighting up the sky. The muse of astronomy is as present in the far reaches of the galaxy in a sci-fi au as she is in the constellation of Jade’s freckles.

Finally, we come to the Chorus. In Ancient Greek works, the Chorus often represents a voice speaking to or with the audience, a bridge between the world of the story and the world outside it. The Chorus is vital. Without their commentary, something important is lost from a story. Those who comment on fanfiction as just as important - you readers are part of this challenge too! Tell the writers what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. Leave a comment on a favourite story that fits the thematic domain of each muse. Write up a rec list for your favourite muse, and share your favourites so that others can discover them and dive in.

Rules and some specific writing challenges below the read more!

Writing Challenges:

Still needing more inspiration? There are different ways you can approach this. You can write whatever style your heart wants, or you could try your hand at one of these challenges that interpret the muses’ calls in different ways.

The Fragment Challenge Write a drabble of 100 words, or write multiple drabbles as if they were glimpses into the same story with missing pieces in between. For artists, share a fragment of a work in progress - anything unfinished!

The Epistolary Challenge Write in the form of letters, a diary, newspaper clippings, social media posts… Or how about Nockmaar’s trip advisor?

The Lost Scene Challenge Write or draw a scene we missed out on in canon, or a scene that gives the impression it is part of a longer, unwritten fic.

All of these give you a fun way to explore the things you choose not to tell the audience, and play off the Ancient Greek theme that our muses inspire.

Rules/FAQ

How long does the challenge last?

From September 1, 2024 until Oct 6, 2024.

How do I share my cool stuff?

If it's a fanwork appropriate for AO3, we'd love it if you added it to the challenge AO3 collection, which will be open until the challenge ends!

What pairings apply? Is this just Tanthamore?

This challenge is open to all Willow fanworks! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can my work be any rating?

Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves what they'd like to engage with.

Can it be any length?

Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be based in Willow canon?

Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished?

Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during September and carry on working on it after the challenge is over.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 2 months

Text

Rusty | Chapter 18 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this one goes back 6 months again and picks up when they move to their new ranch. Flicks through time over the previous 6 months. Part one of a two part chapter.

Summary - As the two of you get acquainted with your new ranch, Spencer’s mental state starts to decline.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - starts really fluffy but devolves rapidly, hints of oral (f receiving), medication side effects, penetrative, unprotected sex, swearing, sexual dysfunction, painful erections, withdrawals, heavy drinking, suicidal ideation, dissociation, self harm, anger, arguing, violence.

WC - 6.4k

Chapter 18 - So Little I Wanted

Six Months Ago

A soft breeze rolled out from the fields, up the hill towards the old Victorian home. The swing chair creaked a little with each back and forth motion but the sound was comforting.

Spencer tightened his grip on your shoulders, your head nuzzled against his chest and he rocked the chair with your combined weights in a rhythmic motion.

He dangled the new keys from his finger, adorned with the keychain you’d gotten him. He smiled at the disk in the middle as his eyes flitted over the constellation of stars from the night you first met.

He never expected that night to find himself here, starting over again. But as he lowered the keys and looked out across his new land, towards the horse stables which Rusty and Willow were getting acquainted with, there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

He’d blocked all GPS and location settings on his phone before you’d left Bandera so there was no way for Garcia to trace him. The two of you were going to be really happy here.

He stroked your hair and you hummed in content. Your hand reached for his free one and entwined your fingers. You drew his hand towards you and placed sleepy kisses against his knuckles.

“Are you tired, princess?” He whispered, barely audible above the sound of the swing chair.

“Hmm a little.” You replied, stifling a yawn.

Spencer chuckled and gently guided you so you were sitting up. He cupped your jaw and brushed his fingers along your chin.

“It’s been a long day. What do you say we retire to our new room?” He had a glint in his eyes and it lit a fire in your chest.

“Okay.” You nodded, letting him help you up from the chair.

It hadn’t just been a long day, it had been a long few days. You’d travelled some eight hundred miles in forty eight hours, stopping once at a cheap motel for a few hours sleep.

You’d had to do all the driving because of Spencer’s splint. You’d only arrived at your new home a few hours ago and you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open.

But if Spencer had plans to christen your new bed that went beyond sleeping, you were more than happy to postpone rest in lieu of other activities.

He took your hand and let you both in the house, locking the front door behind you and hanging his keys on the hook. He took off his stetson, the one Rossi gave him, and hung it next to the keys.

He led you towards the narrow staircase by your hand and you followed dreamily. He continued gripping your hand while he took you down the landing towards the master bedroom.

You’d already hung up your clothes in the antique closet earlier today. Spencer’s books were still packed away as he had plans to buy some bookshelves and turn the dining room into a library of sorts.

The bed left by the elderly couple was made of ornate dark wood with beautiful, intricate carvings in the head and baseboards. The mattress was plush and wide and you couldn’t wait to sink down into it.

Spencer closed the bedroom door and let go of your hand, standing you in front of him. He tucked your hair behind your ears in a gentle fashion and smiled down at you.

“I love you so much.” He spoke wistfully.

“I love you too.” You smiled.

He placed his hands on your hips and guided you towards the end of the bed. He sat you down before dropping to his knees in front of you.

With a hand on each knee he pushed your legs apart. He placed kisses on the fabric of your jeans and you shuddered despite the material between you. His fingers raked up and down your thighs.

They came to a stop on your button and he looked up at you through his lashes as he toyed with it. You nodded weakly in response.

He smiled as he kissed your leg and unbuttoned your jeans. You lifted yourself off the bed a little to allow him to shimmy them over your hips and he dragged them down your legs achingly slowly.

Once he had them off your feet he tossed them aside and started peppering kisses against your flesh. He ebbed dangerously closer, feeling the heat emanating from between your legs.

He sucked in a deep breath, letting your natural scents fill his lungs. He wanted to take his time teasing you, bring you to the edge without even touching you but he wanted this just as much as you did.

He inched your panties aside, finding them soaked through already before he buried his face between your legs and you swore you saw stars.

***

Five and Half Months Ago

You rode side by side along the edge of the road towards Tombstone on your respective steeds. Spencer had the go ahead to start wearing his splint less as long as his arm didn’t cause him too much grief and he loved being back in the saddle.

Rusty and Willow were nearly inseparable now despite their rocky start. You supposed in a way they were like you and Spencer.

He would glance at you every so often as you trotted along, sending smiles your way. Every one made your heart skip a beat and fill you with a warmth you’d never felt before.

As you were nearing the town, something a little way ahead on the side of the road caught your eye.

“What is that?” You pointed towards what looked like a slightly crumpled cardboard box.

“No idea.” Spencer frowned in the direction of it as you both continued that way.

When you reached the box you halted Rusty before dismounting her and Spencer followed suit. Keeping hold of the reins you peered inside the box and gasped as ten icy blue eyes glared up at you.

“Oh my gosh!” You squealed, thrusting Rusty’s reins at Spencer before dropping to your knees next to the box. “Have you been left here?”

You reached a cautious hand inside and the five little puppies mewled and started licking you. They looked at you hungrily and one even started nibbling on your knuckle.

“I think there’s a vets in Tombstone.” Spencer spoke, looking over your shoulder.

“Who would abandon these little beauties?” You collected one of the tiny puppies up in one hand.

The dog was wide eyed as it looked at you, a large reddish splotch over its eye. It let out a little bark and licked your cheek, making you giggle.

Its ears were floppy, too big for its head. It had several other red patches mottled in its silky fur. You’d never seen a dog like it.

“Oh you’re just a cutie, aren’t you!” You cooed, holding the pup to your chest.

“We aren’t keeping the puppies.” Spencer laughed. “Come on, let's get them to the vet.”

You reluctantly placed the small dog back in the box with its siblings and cautiously lifted the box from the ground. There were sounds of disapproval from inside.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I’m helping you.” You cooed again, cradling the box gently in your arms.

Spencer mounted Willow and took hold of Rusty’s reins so he could guide her while you walked with the puppy package.

Rusty had taken a liking to Spencer since the day in the stable when he’d used her to ground himself while on the phone to the BAU. He had no idea what had softened her towards him but he didn’t question it.

The four of you continued on towards town while you balanced the box of puppies who were adamant not to sit still which only made the whole ordeal more difficult than it needed to be.

***

The puppies were approximately six week old Catahoula Leopard Dogs which explained their spotty coats. The vet deemed them all to be healthy if not a little hungry after giving them a once over.

The four girls were particularly disinterested in anything that didn’t pertain to being fed and watered but the boy, the one you had picked up out of the box when you found them, grew very fond of you.

You had to continuously be stroking or holding him otherwise he would whine for your touch. He liked it most when you held him against your chest and he would nuzzle against you. Spencer knew it was inevitable that you would not be leaving the vet surgery without that dog.

A little over an hour later the two of you exited the building where Rusty and Willow were tied up to the hitching posts outside. In one hand you had the little male puppy in a carry crate and you were beaming from ear to ear.

“We’ve been here two weeks and you’ve already acquired another animal.” Spencer laughed as he stepped onto the street.

“I couldn’t leave him! You saw how much he loved me.” You glanced at the puppy through the bars of the crate as you carefully set it on the floor.

“I was not in the market for a dog.” Spencer shook his head as you sidled closer to him.

“But he makes me very happy.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hmm, I do like to make you happy.” He agreed, holding onto your waist.

“I know you do.” You laughed, getting closer so you could kiss him. “And it seems like fate, his colouring is so much like Rusty’s. They could be twins. You know, if that were at all possible.”

“So what are we calling him?” Spencer tucked your hair behind your ears as you beamed, clearly already thinking about this.

“Copper.” You spoke defiantly.

“Copper and Rusty?”

“Mmm hmm.” You hummed, kissing him again.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.”

***

Five Months Ago

“Copper, heel!” You called across the enclosed field to the boisterous eight week old pup.

He spun rapidly to look at you, his tongue hanging comically out of his mouth. You shook the bag of treats in your hand.

“Copper, heel!” You repeated when he didn’t move.

Willow and Rusty ambled around the field, already accustomed to their new dog friend. They allowed him to run between them, sometimes under them, sniffing them and oftentimes licking them.

Rusty had been more wary than Willow as she was naturally. She still kept her distance more than Willow did but she was warming up to Copper slowly.

“Copper, heel!” You tried once more, giving the treat bag a firm shake.

“This is hard to watch.” Spencer sighed from his position leaning back against the fence.

“I mean, you could help.” You grumbled without taking your eyes off of Copper.

“You’re right, I could.” Spencer smirked to himself.

“But you’re not going to.” You turned to him now over your shoulder.

“It’s so much more fun to watch you struggle.” He winked at you.

“He’s your dog too.” You whined, looking back across the field at the stubborn dog.

“He most certainly is not.” Spencer folded his arms over his chest. “You wanted him, he’s your dog.”

You huffed and if he could see your face he would be willing to bet you were rolling your eyes.

“Copper, heel! Please boy, we can do this. Heel. Heel.” If he couldn’t come back when called in an enclosed space he was never going to be able to freely roam the land.

Copper barked at you before he commenced running again, right under Willow’s belly, the mare barely noticing. He started doing laps of the field again and you groaned in defeat.

“Am I doing something wrong?” You moved backwards to lean on the fence next to Spencer.

“It just takes time. You have to be patient, I’m sure he’ll get there.” Spencer offered you a sympathetic smile.

“This is harder than learning to ride a horse.” You grumbled.

“It absolutely is not.” Spencer chuckled. “You just got lucky with riding that you were a natural at it. For most people, learning to ride a horse is exponentially difficult.”

“Please can you help?” You shot him a look, your begging face. Your lip was pouted and your eyes were wide. It was the same look you’d given him when you asked to take Copper home in the first place.

And Spencer could never say no to it. He huffed and took the bag of treats from your hand, turning to face Copper while he shook them.

“Copper, heel.” He spoke in a steady and firm tone.

Copper immediately stopped in his tracks and looked over at Spencer. For a moment or two he looked as though he was considering this.

And then he took off running right at Spencer. When he reached him, he looked up at him with excited eyes, begging to be rewarded for his good behaviour.

You were staring in absolute shock at the dog's obedience. Spencer handed him a treat and Copper gobbled it up without even chewing.

“Copper, sit.” You tried.

The dog looked at you before looking back at Spencer, seemingly smiling at him.

“Copper, sit.” Spencer repeated.

Instantly the dog sat down and Spencer handed him another treat.

“Un-frigging-believable.” You shook your head in disbelief.

Spencer smirked at you with an almost cocky shrug of his shoulders.

“What can I say?” He laughed. “I’m just better at this than you.”

***

Later that night Spencer was on top of you in bed, kissing you forcefully while his cock slid teasingly between your legs.

You were bucking your hips to try and meet him, whining pathetically into his mouth. Spencer chuckled against your lips.

“Desperate, huh?” He pulled back from the kiss and looked down on you.

You whimpered in response. The stronger dose of his meds were working their magic and as such Spencer very rarely dissociated after you were intimate but still held some residual guilt.

But despite the fact you exchanged sexual favours nearly every night, you hadn’t had sex since arriving in Arizona.

So desperate was an understatement.

“P-please?” You whispered when he continued to simply move back and forth between your silken folds.

He kissed you again, still laughing at your neediness. And then he surprised you when he entered you in one swift move.

You gasped into his mouth, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But it felt so fucking good. He kissed you deeper while he fucked you, the old bed creaking with every movement.

You were moaning together, relishing in the way his heavy length filled you up so wonderfully in case it was a while before you got to experience it again.

But you wouldn’t be left wanting more as even when he came he didn’t pull out. He simply laid on top of you, kissing your neck until he started becoming erect again.

And then he fucked you three more times.

By the time you both experienced your forth orgasms you were sweaty and overstimulated. When he finally pulled out you felt so horribly empty and a rush of your combined bodily fluids trickled down your legs and into the bed sheet.

Spencer forced his trembling legs to stand and he trailed lazily through to the ensuite, returning a few moments later with a damp washcloth. You practically screamed when he ran the cloth between your legs to clean you up, whimpering at the way it touched your over sensitised skin.

He tossed the cloth on the nightstand and collapsed back onto the mattress as the door was nudged open and Copper trotted in, jumping up on the bed and nosing his way between you.

“Copper, down.” You mumbled sleepily, shuddering as his soft fur brushed against your tender flesh.

He had his own plush dog bed in the corner of the room, he was not sleeping on the bed with the humans. Copper ignored you, instead he started licking your bare shoulder.

“Copper,” Spencer grumbled. “Down.”

In an instant the pup jumped off the bed. You shook your head against the pillows.

“That dog is a traitor.” You groaned.

“Maybe he just likes me better. Can’t say I blame him.” Spencer laughed lightly, rolling onto his side to face you.

He gently guided you onto your side also so your back was to him. You whined a little at the skin to skin contact, your whole body feeling as though it was on fire. But you allowed Spencer to cage your body with his own, wrapping one arm around you and pressing his chest flush with your back. Within seconds you were both sound asleep.

***

Four Months Ago

“And then Copper ran laps up and down the stable while I was trying to clean the paddocks and hay and straw was flying everywhere and he scared the life out of Rusty when he jumped up at her. I thought we were going to have a repeat of what happened to you in the desert.”

Spencer stared out into the void, your words floating somewhere around him, reaching his ears but not quite making the journey to his brain. The sounds of glasses clinking, idle chatter and the music from the old jukebox faded away into the ether.

He felt like he was floating but not in a good way. It was a similar sensation to that of dissociation only he was still connected to his own mind, it was just his surroundings he was divorcing himself from.

It was Friday night and the Four Deuces Saloon was about as busy as it ever got, which wasn’t very. Spencer held a glass in one hand, a rag in the other while he cleaned it in absent-mindedness.

He was behind the bar while you took your spot on the other side on one of the old stools, Copper no doubt curled up at your feet. You were telling him about your day at the riding school but at some point he tuned out without meaning to do so.

For the last few weeks, Spencer started to notice a change in himself. He knew what was causing it, but he didn’t know how to stop it. His medication was camouflaging his issues, disguising them so he wasn’t crippled by them but it was by no means treating the cause.

He could feel more pieces of himself chipping away with the passing weeks, although he’d certainly seen an improvement in his mood and was dissociating far less, he felt like parts of him were now missing.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, he just knew it wasn’t right. Fundamental parts of his personality seemed to have shifted.

He was growing less compassionate, towards you and even towards his beloved horse. He was having incredibly vivid dreams all the time and even after a good night's sleep he was always so tired.

He should have just been grateful that he didn’t feel the weight of his PTSD every day. He rarely thought about what those men had done to him in prison, he was becoming something akin to normal again.

But in gaining certain facets back, he was most certainly losing others.

“Spencer!” You raised your voice and he snapped out his revere, blinking at you a few times to clear the fog.

“Huh?” He stared at you like he’d just woken up.

“You’ve been cleaning that same glass for the last twenty minutes. And I’m fairly sure you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said.” You huffed, sipping on your whiskey.

“Oh.” He looked dumbly down at the glass in his hand. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay? You seem…tired?”

“Hmm, maybe a little.” He put the glass and the rag down. “What did you order?”

“Nothing.” You frowned at him, motioning to your glass. “I have a drink.”

“Oh, what were you saying then?”

“I was telling you about my day.” You huffed, downing the liquid in the glass in one. “But I think I’m gonna call it a night. Clearly my company isn’t wanted.”

He watched you slide off the stool and hook Copper’s leash to his collar. He was still blinking rapidly, his brain feeling as though it was nothing but cotton wool.

“I’m sorry.” He forced the words out. “You know I love your company.”

“Hmm.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m still gonna go, I’ve got an early group tomorrow.”

“You don’t work Saturdays.” He scratched the back of his head.

“You seriously have not been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?” You scoffed. “I just told you that Jean is out sick and asked me to cover her in the morning. Jesus Spencer, it’s like talking to a brick wall recently.”

“I’m…I’m sorry.” He whined, his brows knitted together.

“Whatever.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you later.”

He watched as you tugged Copper’s leash and headed together towards the swinging saloon doors. Once you stepped outside he shook his head at his own stupidity.

He felt like he couldn’t win. He was a wreck without the medication, dissociating and hurting himself and plagued with traumatic memories from prison. But with the medication he was becoming robotic, no longer able to feel much of anything.

Was it better to feel nothing or everything? Honestly, Spencer had no answer for that. And he hated not having answers.

***

Three Months Ago

You were exhausted by the time you arrived home from work and took Rusty to the stable. Copper as always was full of energy and raced you up to the house.

He waited patiently on the porch, his long, skinny tail smacking hard against the wood as he awaited you opening the door.

It was Spencer’s night off and you were tentative to enter the house. As of late you never knew what mood you’d find him in. It was never bad per se, but more often than not recently he’d been extremely distant, hard to reach.

When you talked you felt like you were talking at him and he barely said more than two words in response.

Physical contact of any sort had been limited. He rarely even kissed you or held your hand. When you were intimate it was perfunctory and he never seemed fully in it, as though simply going through the motions.

He never let you touch him, he would either go down on you or finger you until you came and then he would roll over and close his eyes.

On two occasions he’d seemed as though he was in physical pain when pleasuring you. He would grunt and groan and then run to the bathroom when he finished, doubled over in agony.

He never spoke about it. And little did you know it was just another side effect of his medication he wasn’t sharing with you.

Spencer had found at first as his new dosage kicked in he was able to initiate intimacy and not feel consumed with guilt after. But soon as the medicine really kicked in it started to have adverse effects.

His sex drive diminished almost entirely, just as things were starting to go well between you. He would still give you as much pleasure as he could, whether he necessarily felt like it or not. He rarely became aroused and on occasions when he did, his erections were so painful it made him nauseous.

He should talk to you about it, about all of it, but he couldn’t. So he kept it to himself and created a void between the two of you.

You found him in the library when you finally entered the house, curled up in one of the large leather arm chairs under the window, reading a book with only the setting sun for light.

You walked cautiously, Copper trailing behind you. Spencer glanced up when he heard footsteps and instantly closed the book, smiling a little wistfully at you.

“Hey you.” He whispered, his voice hoarse probably from lack of use throughout the day.

“Hey,” you padded closer.

He placed the book on the window ledge where another few books were stacked. He often had a pile next to him so he didn’t have to get up every few minutes due to his reading speed.

When you were within reach he grabbed your hand, pulling you down into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

It surprised you at first, it had been a while since he’d initiated such contact, but you didn’t argue it. You swung your legs across his so he was cradling you and you nuzzled against his chest. Copper turned in a circle a few times before laying at Spencer’s feet.

You sat silently for a while until Spencer picked up the book he’d been reading and started reciting the words out loud. It was an old poetry anthology he’d read as a child with his mother.

He held you closely with one arm, resting the book on your knees and he spoke the words softly and quietly. He read to you for hours while you drifted in and out of sleep on his lap.

When the book ended, he placed it back on the ledge and stroked your hair back off of your face. You leaned in and dared to brush your lips against his.

After a moment or two you parted his lips with your tongue, turning yourself in his lap so you were straddling him. You grinded against him, kissing him with every ounce of passion in your body.

It took no time at all for you to feel yourself getting turned on. But beneath you, nothing was happening in Spencer’s pants despite your increased rocking on his lap.

Needing to breathe you pulled back from his lips and looked at him in mild confusion. He was frowning, his eyes held an immeasurable amount of sadness.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “Please don’t think it’s because of you. It’s just, uh, not been particularly cooperative lately.”

“Yeah I noticed.” You shrugged sadly. “Are you sure okay? You’ve been…distant.”

Spencer forced himself to smile as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me.” He wrapped his arms around you so he could conceal his face and the smile he wasn’t able to keep up.

Nothing was okay. He was losing himself to his medication. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

***

Two Months Ago

He stared at himself in the mirror, gripping the sink tightly in both hands. This wasn’t good. He’d made a drastic error in judgement.

A week ago in a fit of rage after an extremely heavy make out session in which you tried to furiously pump his flaccid cock to no avail, Spencer had flushed his meds down the toilet.

He’d started feeling the withdrawal symptoms within days, he knew that paroxetine had a very short half life and therefore the symptoms kicked in fast.

His brain was in imbalance. The chemicals he’d fought to suppress with the medication were coming back with avengence.

He’d gone from feeling very little of anything to feeling every single emotion in a matter of days. His mind was vibrating, a swarm of bees escaped their nest and were buzzing and flitting around every receptor.

He hadn’t thought this through. He’d been frustrated at the thought of losing parts of himself, of disappointing you and he’d made a rash decision.

He could have lowered his doses, spoken to a doctor and done this the right way. He was smart enough to know what kind of hell awaited him by withdrawing so carelessly. This was only the beginning, the side effects would only grow more intense over time.

Within just the span of a week he was already feeling extremely anxious, jumping at every little sound. He was agitated and depressed and he’d give anything to make it stop.

The logical thing to do would be to see a doctor post haste. But Spencer’s rationality had gone out the window the moment he decided to flush those pills. And so he decided to try and treat it another way.

He stood back from the sink and looked at the unopened bottle of whiskey he’d set on the bathroom counter. He hadn't had a drink for over six years, probably longer. If he was in his right mind he would be able to recall the exact days.

He’d self medicated with alcohol after Maeve’s death to stop himself from relapsing on dilaudid. But given his proclivity for addiction, his drinking grew out of control. And it all came full circle because when the alcohol stopped having the effect he was after, he considered relapsing again after all.

He’d managed to quit through sheer willpower, not allowing himself to fall down that rabbit hole again and hadn’t touched a drop since. But now here he was, staring at the bottle of whiskey as he fought internally with himself not to open it.

But he knew he would. He wasn’t strong enough to resist the urge to take the edge off, the promise of escape even if only momentarily.

He reached for it, his hand trembling as he gripped it around the neck. He made quick work of unscrewing the cap and raised it to his nose to smell the amber liquid.

Whiskey was always his vice when it came to alcohol. He never much enjoyed beer or wine although he would still indulge in them on occasion. Whiskey was his achilles heel. He adored the taste of it, the varying notes and tones that came with different brands.

He’d grown adept in telling the difference between brands and even sometimes bottles of the same brand which had been casked in different years.

It fascinated Rossi in particular, he often got Spencer to show off his niche skill to anyone and everyone like a party trick.

It smelt like a bottle of liquid heaven and caused him to salivate at the thought of it sliding down his throat, creating its warm blanket around his brain, stifling his intrusive thoughts. If he didn’t drink this, there was no telling what he might do. This had to be the lesser of many evils.

He drank almost half of the bottle in one fell swoop and didn’t feel at all guilty. In fact he felt something close to liberation.

He brushed his teeth to mask the smell, making a mental note to buy some gum. He already knew this wasn’t going to be his last drink.

He stashed the bottle under the sink before leaving the bathroom and heading downstairs. The whiskey pulsed through his veins, swimming around his brain and offering him a nice lightheaded sensation.

It stood to reason that after so many years of abstinence he was probably drunk off of the amount he’d consumed. It would have been a lot for anyone, let alone someone who had been sober so long.

His legs wobbled a little as he took to the stairs, he gripped the bannister to keep himself up right. He probably should have been concerned for the speed in which he was able to make the decision to give up his sobriety.

But he wasn’t.

In the living room he found Copper who was going to town on the corner of the gross old rug in the middle of the floor. His teeth sunk into the fabric, small growls leaving his mouth as he attacked it.

And for some reason, Spencer saw red.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He yelled at the young dog.

He advanced on Copper, grabbing him by the collar and forcibly pulling him back from the rug. Copper made a sound of disapproval.

“Did we not train you better than this? Bad dog! You do not chew the rug! Fucking idiot. Why the fuck did I even agree to bring you home?”

Copper looked scorned, his tail folding underneath him as Spencer screamed at him. He cowered away from him, whining under his breath.

“Yeah you should feel bad! I catch you doing something like that again and you’re out on your ass! Fucking stupid creature.” Spencer spat harshly, bearing his teeth at the already terrified dog.

“What the hell is going on?” You ran into the room from the kitchen, the sounds of Spencer yelling garnering your attention.

You found him towering over a trembling Copper, pointing an angry finger at the pup.

“This asshole was chewing the rug.” Spencer growled.

“And you screamed at him for it?” You pushed past him, lowering yourself to the floor next to Copper and stroking him between the ears. “He’s scared, Spencer.”

“Good! Maybe he’ll think twice before he does it again.”

“Spencer, he is still a puppy. He’s still learning. Cut him some slack. You don’t even like that rug.” You comforted the dog who was starting to shake a little less at your touch.

“I don’t give a shit if I like it or not! He shouldn’t have been doing it. I don’t like the fucking couch either, should I let him destroy that too?” Spencer was still yelling.

You looked up at him, shaking your head.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” You spat as Copper nuzzled his head against your chest and you cradled him.

“With all due respect, Y/N, you don’t really know me at all.” He hissed and then turned on his heels before storming out of the room.

You let him go, staying on the floor with Copper who was in desperate need of your comfort. You had no idea what had gotten into Spencer. You’d never seen this side of him before.

But little did you know, this was only the beginning.

***

One Month, Three Weeks Ago

He was restless, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was withdrawals, or perhaps it was a combination of them both.

He couldn’t stop moving, whether it be jiggling his leg when he sat still or pacing the length of rooms while his mind whirred and spiralled into a never ending stream of thoughts and emotions.

He hadn’t been to work all week. Instead he waited for you to leave the house and each day and would drink himself into a stupor. He hoped it would help him sleep, help his brain get some much needed rest. It didn’t. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept more than a few hours.

The headache came on yesterday and it was so encompassing it caused him to throw up. He hadn’t really been eating and so there wasn’t much to come up. He knew he’d lost weight but he just wasn’t hungry.

The headache wouldn’t budge no matter how hard he tried. Light and sound aggravated it, probably a migraine he thought in absent mindedness. His hearing seemed to be hypersensitive and every little sound was like daggers to his skull.

He yelled at Copper again when he barked which only caused the headache to worsen. It shut him up though, the dog was still scared of him and the moment Spencer raised his voice Copper cowered.

He was depressed, there was no denying it. He started to wonder if it might simply be easier if he just ended it all, the pain and suffering. He could put you both out of your misery if he was dead.

He was dissociating more frequently again and you had noticed. But his sex drive was on the rise again and he’d been able to perform almost every night this week, despite the whiskey. But each time he dissociated afterwards, just like he used to.

At least he could use it as an excuse as to why his thighs were now covered in self inflicted wounds. He blamed the dissociation and he was sure you believed him. But in reality he’d started hurting himself for the first time while conscious of his actions.

It helped, at least he thought it did. The pain was a small reprieve from the ever flowing emotions and thoughts he couldn’t quell. Prison. Luke. Maeve. Benjamin Merva. Every trauma in his life made itself known and weighed him down under a thick, stagnated mist of melancholia.

And then you found his stash of empty whiskey bottles.

He wished he could say he dissociated when he threw you against the wall and screamed in your face but his mind was sharp and he knew exactly what he was doing. He also knew it was wrong but he couldn’t cloy himself back from it.

“Are you fucking judging me? With the amount you drink, you’re judging me?” He seethed, spittal flying from his mouth as he pinned you to the wall.

“I’m just concerned. You said yourself you don’t drink because of your addiction.” You kept your composure even though he could see the hint of fear in your eyes.

“Don’t fucking talk to me about my addiction! You have no idea!” He growled louder, so close to your face you could smell the combination of whiskey and the minty gum he tried to disguise it with.

“S-Spencer, you’re scaring me.” Your bottom lip trembled, unable to hide your terror any longer.

“Shut up! This isn’t scary, you’ve not seen scary. Not yet anyway.” He took a step back and you believed it might be the worst of it.

And then he slapped you hard around the side of your face. You whimpered pathetically, hand flying to cradle your face from the impact. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked at him. You didn’t recognise this man. This man was someone you’d never met before.

He looked like Spencer, to a degree anyway. But there was something in his eyes, some evil glint that didn’t belong. It wasn't him, it wasn’t the man you loved.

He didn’t say another word, simply pushed past and left the room. You heard the front door open and slam closed, causing Copper to bark somewhere in the house. You didn’t dare move, frozen in fear but the tears did escape your eyes now and started rolling down your face.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before you heard your car engine jump to life followed by the screeching of tyres on the gravel as Spencer sped away. And a part of you secretly hoped he may never come back.

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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astralnymphh · 9 months

Note

unrelated but please write more fluff 😭😭 i loooove your way of writing sm 🩷

okay, let me just think of something random I can make into a poem to lighten my blog a little. think i'll do artist!ellie. first drabble thats mostly just poetry woop woop? (you'll see this kind of stuff in any fluff/angst/fantasy au i write) cw: internal organs mentioned, kinda angsty? idk sorry i get DEEP. thats it.

There's an artist in the bungalow.

She's got a mane of fire and a heart of clay. She is everything but skin and bone— for she has borne houses of stars and planets alike. The cosmos is her, and she is the cosmos. In her kindled hand is a means to create, whether she a weeping willow or gone livid in the pursuit for her head. Anguish be her tale of past days over this bungalow, because when all hope was sunken without acquainting grace, you rose upon it on two feet in ache.

You've a body similar— wrists that rebuke gold and sprout isles of lichens interchanging of your fine sylphine hairs. Borne was you, arteries dropped like glue and fled this earth like wax into hot gas, rising and rising somewhere new— instead, branches lie dying with you, inside you, a part of you, giving life to the marrow that is pulsing you. Wood is rot, bark is flaying, you are falling, that is okay. For the cosmos are desolate and resplendent with corpses by the shedload too. She is you, and you are her.

That's why she reached out for you, gave a hand made for crafting— and crafted you her partner.

One day, she took you through her quaint, oaken bungalow. A finger she lifted, pointing out everything mundane and.. commonplace. She pointed at her casement brown—trim windows, calling them the 'eyes of our house', watching the eons age this house away. She then pointed to her hallways, and likened them the 'throats of our house', swallowing every being and spitting them out a whole new person. She would give a last point, towards her bedroom and deem it the, 'heart of our house', for it pumps with life and watches bodies lie there— aging, waning, ever becoming moribund with their lovers held dear, pulse to pulse.

And you question sweetly, "Why are you telling me this, Ellie?"

Why?

Why elucidate the likeness of a visual so natural and so unquestioned in the form of organs? You question, but you do not look. Ellie replies, smooth of her tongue, "Wouldn't be fun if I just said it was my house." completely skipping the main trigger for question— 'our, our.. ours' and no longer just, 'her, her.. hers'.

It is your house. It is her house. It is a bungalow.

No odds about it, be it a jerry—built swamp house, a boxy mansion cruelly boasting over a crag, or a cottage swarmed in pixies preordained to rot in the woods it relies life on; it is a being. It eats personage, lets them linger, and absorbs them at the end of their existence— just like the earth will when it dies. Houses are like us.

Roofs see the same night airglow we gaze at, splayed amongst the grass, you lay with her.

"There's the little dipper, and.. that's the big dipper." croaked Ellie, aiming that same pointer towards the realm above, the dotted fabric we call 'the sky'.

"How can you even tell so easily— is there something wrong with my eyes?" quipped you, pressing the flank of your fist into your cinched eyes, clearing them.

"D'ya need me to point them out again?" She rolls upon her side, rending grass stuck onto her back, "Cause I can point you all the constellations visible right—"

Silenced. You push up on elbows and toss a hand to cradle, bringing her face into yours for a word—gobbling kiss, letting the dying hum vibrate down your chest. Ellie talks too much.

"Nhhmm.."

Satisfied. Spit smacking apart, it draws a line from pink plump to your plump of lip, and severs when you depart enough.

Her lower lip rolls inward, sucking sweetly of the spit you laid upon her mouth, coughing, "Ahem— that.. so you don't want me to show?" Dumbass. "No."

"Ooh—kay," drawled Els', the shuffling of leather and lawn surfing through your senses just a moment as she adjusts, planting that charmed chin on your shoulder— smushed like a rotten apple, "No show." and smiled, bless her smile.

So you lay, let the lay of petrichor waft into your head, and sleep away. Sleep away the life, sleeping away with yours— and hers.

just a teensy bit rushed but hope this is suitable

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams drabble #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams poetry #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x masc reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you

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tiredfox64 · 3 months

Note

Giant Liu kang, okay I'll shut up

No the reader isnt even small, he's just fucking big, bro is a god my guy😭😭😭

Run! It’s God

Yip notes: You can’t go asking this WHEN IM BACK IN MY GODZILLA ERA

Pairing: Liu Kang (MK1) x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: Short stack

Some may think they will not meet God until they die. Some believe they will see God during a big event that was told in a scripture. Some believe God is not with us. Maybe God is created. Maybe there was never a God

But God is watching us. Hi Liu Kang!

Liu Kang is no ordinary god. He was once human like you and me. He understands how curious humans can be and how emotional they are. It comforts him to watch over his creations. It reminds him of his past life. Though it’s hard to get a clear look at them when his eyes glow bright. It attracts all eyes onto him. He can’t risk others acknowledging his presence. He has found a solution around this issue and that’s by going out at night. Yes, strange solution, he knows. But when his eyes blend in with the stars or even city lights it makes it seem like he’s not even there. But to truly pull that trick off he must change forms. He finds it works best when he is in the form of a titan.

Since the beginning of this timeline, Liu Kang has gained the ability to grow large like a titan. He doesn’t do it often since it involves a lot of energy from an amulet. But tonight he will use it again so he can go out and see the people. They better be acting good or he swears to himself—

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The night sky was so clear. Not a dark blue cloud in the sky that could hide away the moon. It was full and bright, using its light to guide your way up the hill. The somewhat overgrown grass tinkles and scratches at your ankles as you reach the top. There you see your favorite spot, a single bench next to a willow tree. The view you get from this height is incredible. You could see how the city lights up with life. Even when the world is dark there are still people on the move whether it be working, partying, or just enjoying life. That’s what you’re doing, enjoying life. The area is quiet with only a few cars driving by at the bottom of the hill. You feel the breeze flow over your body as you take a seat on the wooden bench.

You take deep breaths and feel your heart slow down to the serenity of the experience. It’s good to take time to step back from life’s hardships and breathe. It doesn’t matter if they are large or small, life is hard and it stresses you out to no end. For your own sanity, you must step away. So how about you take a look up at the beautiful stars tonight. Maybe you will find some constellations like the Draco or the Hydra constellation. That’s if the stars would stop moving-

The stars are doing what? The stars are what?

That’s not right. The stars are shifting too fast. Maybe it’s a plane? No, if it was a plane then there would be green and red lights flashing in and out. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you. But if they were why would it be those two specific stars that are moving around? Actually, now that you are staring at them, they seem larger than the others. Even a little hint of blue in them. Great, now the stars are blinking—WHAT?

Oh, it seems like I have been found. I might as well acknowledge my presence.

In that moment you see something moving around. You can’t tell exactly what it is but it’s huge. Those two glowing lights you know aren’t stars come closer to you. The ground beneath you shakes as if a tyrannosaurus is coming towards you. You are frozen in fear, unable to move your legs that wobble from the shaky ground. Finally, you see a face show up in front of you.

“Good evening-“

“GOOD GOD- YOU’RE HUGE!” You yell.

Your hand goes flying up to cover your mouth. The look on Liu Kang’s face shows both shock and disappointment. He did not mean to startle you. Poor thing, your heart must be jumping. Your legs begin to work and you run behind the tree before shouting,

“I’M SORRY!”

“Oh, no, please do not hide from me. I did not mean to scare you.” Liu Kang speaks in a gentle voice. Sure, his voice can be a little authoritative but he is trying his best to be friendly right now.

You peek your head out from behind the thick trunk of the willow tree. You are surprised by how gentle his voice seems. You still stay behind the tree just in case you are being tricked. But that face that Liu Kang was giving you was getting to your soul. His eyes are not harsh but more like a soft light. He does back away from the hill a little to give you some space. You slowly walk away from the tree and get closer to the bench to get a better look at him.

Your mind cannot comprehend what is happening. Your eyes stare upon a man who is way bigger than you. This is not an elephant sized man, this is a dinosaur sized man. Nope, you are lowballing, this man is the size of Godzilla. Final Wars Godzilla to be exact. His eyes, as we have established, glow in ways that are impossible.

You are a good person, you do no wrong. Your system is clean. If there were any drugs or alcohol found in your system then that was not you who put them in your body. You are not drunk and you are not high on anything. What would make you high enough to make everything feel normal but make you see a huge man?

I’d say datura but legally I don’t know anything about it.

“I apologize for scaring you. I am Lord Liu Kang, protector of Earthrealm and God of fire.” He bows to you.

God? Earthrealm? This is so strange. You plop down on the bench to take a moment to think about this all. It all feels real but your brain can’t comprehend it. You pinch yourself to make sure this is not a dream. Liu Kang lets out a light chuckle at your display of confusion. Usually people just accept who he is or say “What in the actual fuck” but you are truly unable to accept the situation at hand.

“Perhaps I should explain everything to you.” He suggests.

“Yeah…yeah that would help a lot. Thanks.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

So on a random night you somehow met God? Fascinating! No one will believe you but that’s okay. This will stay between you and Liu Kang.

He was real, as real as the bench you sat on. He even let you touch his hand to make you realize that he was real. He told you the truth that he likes watching humans go about their lives, it’s just not easy with some aspects of him. Even if he changed his clothes his eyes would still stand out. That’s why he goes out at night.

He didn’t expect you to come out and sit at the top of the hill. He was curious about what you were up to since you didn’t seem to be doing anything, It seems like he got too close since you caught him. But now that all that mess was settled…what now? You have a fire god next to you on this hill, no cars are coming by at this time, and you’re alone with each other. Well, you could continue appreciating the view with him.

“Do you often interact with people?” You ask.

“Yes, but not many are strangers. The people I interact with are my warriors and the monks at the Wu Shi Academy.”

“So not many people from the city, huh? Probably not many in the countryside either I’m guessing.”

Liu Kang chuckles before replying, “No. You are the first stranger I have truly interacted with. I do appreciate that you did not run away.”

Don’t you just feel special? You smile as you continue looking at the city lights while kicking your feet. You feel his eyes staring down at you but you don’t look at him. You feel like it would be rude. He’s not looking at you with any ill will. He’s just taking in the fact that he doesn’t speak with others that are not fighters. It’s a nice change. You seem to be a person going through life without the thought of fighting for your realm or having huge goals that seem impossible to achieve for a being like you.

“Would you like to get a different view of the city?” He asks.

You turn around and give him a look of curiosity which is a cute look for you. You tilt your head slightly to the side while you think about it. You decide why the hell not. Let’s see what he will do for you.

“Sure!”

Liu Kang places his hand gently on the ground, the grass flattening below him. You look at him to confirm your suspicions of him wanting you to climb into his hand. He nods his head while having a warm smile on his lips. You take your time climbing onto his palm. Your nails claw at his skin as your feet kick you off the ground. You tumble onto his hand before giving him the thumbs up. His other hand swoops in to give you more space and prevent you from falling off. He slowly lifts you higher in the sky which makes you close your eyes in anticipation. Once the movement stops and you feel the wind blow a little harder you open your eyes.

Your eyes sparkle as brightly as the city lights. You get a clearer view of the buildings that are behind and beside the tall ones. So many colors come from apartment buildings with windows glowing blue, purple, red, or multicolor. You watch multiple motorcycles weave through traffic while the cars beep at them. The headlights of cars range from pure white to yellow which illuminates the streets.

“Wow…the city looks entirely different from this point of view.” You reply in amazement.

“Indeed it does. A different point of view is sometimes wonderful.” He says before continuing to look at the city.

The moment lasted for a long time. The only thing that is on your mind is how gorgeous it is and how lucky you are to be in this situation. You rest your head against his finger as you continue looking. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. You stay like that for fifteen minutes before you feel him slowly bring you down. He opens his hands to allow you to get back on the ground. You hop off his hand with no complaints. You had your moment.

“You should get home. It is getting late and you must be tired.” He advises you.

You nod your head before making your way down the hill. You walk slowly since you truly don’t want to leave this moment. But Liu Kang is already walking away. You swiftly turn around and yell to him.

“Lord Liu Kang, can I ask you something?!”

He turns around and his bright eyes are almost the only thing you can see. You see his silhouette but the rest of him was hard to see in the dark.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

“Can we do this again?!” You yell.

You don’t see it but a smile appears on the fire god’s face, “Of course.”

Yap notes: I didn't get a nosebleed this time but I did have a crisis because I was thinking about how many depict god as having glowing eyes. The only one I could think of in the moment was that short film called The Portrait of God and boy would it suck if Liu Kang looked like that. And then (this is the bad part) I remembered this video or even picture that I believe was about a captured god whose limbs were being stretched and it was in pain. The problem is I can't find it and now I'm wondering if I made it up or the plot is not right...I went on this rant for too long. I promise I did not write this to distract myself from taking notes. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #liu kang x reader #liu kang x you #liu kang mk1 #mk1 liu kang #liu kang mortal kombat #mortal kombat liu kang #liu kang #g/t community #sfw g/t #g/t writing

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