#originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”
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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University
Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D
Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model
Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.
Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it
Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-
Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)
Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything
Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did
“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway
Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work
Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.
Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY
Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*
Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him
Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)
Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew
Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.
Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once
Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving
Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam
Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.
Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone
Makes a murder wall
Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people
Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*
Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time
Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad
Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*
Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM
Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)
Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*
Wears a suit to one of his finals
Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has
Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion
Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom
Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct
Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons
Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*
Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those
Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that
Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which
Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?
Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times
Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)
Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*
Okay that's all love you BYE
#cryptid Bruce Wayne#college au#does this count if op is the au#fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism#bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS#Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down#yes i am insane thank you for asking#originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson#bruce wayne#batman#the batman 2022#batman 2022#the batman#battinson needs a hug#dc universe#gotham#autistic bruce wayne
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Will work for food ~ part 2
Part 1 - Master list
Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks.
He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public.
Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it.
He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once.
His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend.
The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute.
When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best.
The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head?
Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume…
What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?
“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…”
“Just Phantom is fine.”
Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form.
He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form.
“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.”
“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.”
“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.”
“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.”
“Not if it’s your name.”
“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?”
“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.”
Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?”
“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him.
“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.”
“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy.
They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening.
Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu.
Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin.
“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?”
Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.”
Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?”
“Yes, but not this Earth.”
Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?”
“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.”
“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?”
“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.”
There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.
When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.”
“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.”
Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet.
Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?”
“Of course.”
Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?”
Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal.
“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.”
Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…”
“Eighteen.” Tim said.
“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.”
“The bridge?”
“Balance. The living and the dead.”
Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”
Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.”
“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples.
Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.”
Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.”
“Exactly.”
“The power of ruling an entire realm…”
“Exactly.”
Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.”
“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.”
“I’ll put them at ease then.”
Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?”
“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities.
It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good.
Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.”
“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating.
They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for.
He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy.
The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way.
“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.”
“You cook?”
“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.”
Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.”
Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.”
“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared.
“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.”
Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.”
Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.”
“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation.
“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad.
It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask.
They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit.
He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return.
“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.”
“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”
“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.”
“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.”
Tim stared, “What?”
Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.”
“Yeah?”
The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders.
They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata.
“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”
The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away.
Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…”
“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching.
Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass.
“I gotta kill my brother…”
Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.
“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first.
“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down.
“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added.
Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.”
“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…
#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#danny phantom#tim drake#dead tired#cameo appearance by Dick Grayson#This is a date
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Less than 12 hours until the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”!
Hence, I present to you, “The Tortured Catboy Department”
Track List:
SIDE A: Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug) / The Tortured Catboy Department / My Lady Abandons Only Her Favourite Partners / Down Bad
SIDE B: So Long, London / But Daddy I Love Her / Fresh Out the Slammer / Akuma !!! (feat Monarch)
SIDE C: Guilty As Sin? / Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me / Even Ladybug Can’t Fix This / loml
SIDE D: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart / The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived / The Cataclysm / Adrien Agreste
Bonus Tracks: The Black Cat / Solitude / Doppelgänger / Tell-Tail Heart
(Love how so many of the original track names still work)
My takes of what each song is about/inspired by under cut (but, if you feel like it, tell me yours :D)
I’m picturing all of these to be from Adrien’s perspective so they reflect mostly his version of the situations rather than the objective reality (especially the Laybug centered ones)
Deux Semaines (feat Ladybug): This one would focus on the sequence in Multiplication where Monarch doesn’t attack and how LadyNoir’s relationship recovers from the events of Season 4.
TTCD: Kept the “Catboy” singular because while there are multiple Catboy identities, there is only one boy underneath them all. Hence while I think it would be about him just stating his issues with everything, it would also focus on loneliness and how his department is understaffed :(
MLAOHFP: All of the Season 4 LadyNoir separation arc angst, with the “Favourite” being a callback to Risk (and kinda a jab at Rena because he thinks that she’s really her favourite, but y’ know, she didn’t abandon her so Rena can’t be her actual favourite)
Down Bad: Mainly about how Chat’s love for LB makes him excuse her behaviors, but also makes him act out (maybe a reference to Elation).
SL,L: About the whole arc of Gabriel sending Adrien to London and all of the memories he would have surrounding this ordeal - key point, not “So Long, Paris” because he didn’t want to leave, and in the end he comes back to a changed world.
BDILH: This one’s either about the Chat Blanc breakup or Gabriel’s dislike of Marinette in Season 5 (or both, with maybe a line about how he feels like this has happened before)
FOTS: Adrien realizing his father is a Bad Person.
Akuma !!! (feat Monarch): This one would be like a song about his daily life and then the chorus would start with a shout of “Akuma!!!” and it would switch to him as Chat Noir. I feel like it would start out with normal life being boring/hero life being fun but as it goes on he grows exhausted. Monarch has a rap verse.
Guilty As Sin?: Chat Blanc centeric - would ask who is to blame for the destruction of the world, like is it Chat because he lost control or Hawkmoth because he took advantage of his son’s emotion?
WAoLOM: Chat Blanc centric at first (like a villain song) but ends with Adrien reflecting on the events of Evolution-Destruction-Multiplication-PS night
ELCFT: I think it would be about his relaction ship with his father and how he wishes there was something he could do to go back to how they were when Emilie was alive but there’s no easy fix and his father keeps on getting worse and worse after any attempt.
loml: A song for Marinette with a bittersweet air - she’s the love of his life but he can’t tell her everything, and she can’t tell him everything either
ICDIWaBH: CatWalker centric - him going back to Ladybug in Kuroneko.
TSMWEL: I actually have three for this one - 1. About Gabriel and his need to domineer because he feels small and powerless. 2. About Adrien feeling small and insignificant. 3.About Plagg because he’s a smol boi (it would be like a lighthearted, cheeky song, like when you sing to your pet about how adorable they are)
The Cataclysm: Literally about how he cataclysmed Monarch, but also about how the event impacted his perception of self.
Adrien Agreste: Ending the album with a song that’s his own name :o.
Now for the variants:
The Black Cat: This one has Chat on the cover and the song is mostly about his bad luck. ‘I Love You It’s Ruining My Life” works both directed at Ladybug and his father.
Solitude: With Chat Blanc on the cover, this one’s about his mother. I think the “You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad” is pretty self-explanatory.
Doppelgänger: CatWalker is on this one, his song would be about how he may literally be the same person but he doesn’t fully feel like himself. He had to repress a lot of himself to be CatWalker hence I thought “Am I Allowed To Cry?” fit him really well (especially with Plagg not giving him the time to fully recover before he had to jump back in). Please note the crossed out name (unlike Chat Blanc) because he’s reinventing himself.
Tell-Tail Heart: This one has Ladybug on the cover - wait she’s not a Catboy?? The song is titled “Tell-Tail Heart” as a reference to Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart” and would explore Chat’s perspective of Ladybug’s guilt for keeping secrets, how any excuse she makes is ultimately unimportant because she would do it either way. The fact that this is the only song title with a pun references how Chat tries to lighten the mood and avoid serious conversations, and the “Tail” is supposed to refer to Rena Rouge. The flowers she’s holding are meant to be foxgloves which symbolise secrets and insincerity (they’re also poisonous and damage the heart :)). I also really liked the “Old Habits Die Screaming” for her as it could mean both Chat Noir’s love for her being an old habit that he cannot get rid of, but also her habit of keeping things from him (especially with how she does it again at the end of season 5) being something she can’t stop. It is also him being able to see that, despite what she tells him, her “Heart” is tells him otherwise.
(also would like to point out that he wouldn’t mention Rena by name, he’s upset, not evil)
#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#ml season 5#adrien agreste#chat noir#chat blanc#cat walker#patte de velours#ml ladybug#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#ts ttpd#ml fanart#ok so at first I wanted to do these with maribug but then I started trying to come up with alternative names and it dawned on me#she’s still on the last cover though <3#the tortured Catboy department#inspiration hit me like a truck like I can almost hear the songs
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Meet Me At 4:20
Summary: It’s hard to be the new kid in a small town during senior year, and there’s only one person you actually want to be friends with. So you do the only logical thing, and set up a drug deal.
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, SFW, drug deals, meet cute, one shot
Notes: Thank you, @jo-harrington for helping me title this <3 If you read the original version I posted last fall, no you didn't.
Word Count: 2.3k words
Master List
You sat at the old picnic table, far away from the school. It was a quiet and mild autumn day, leaves were clinging to the trees and there was a satisfying crunch to the ground when you made your way through the woods.
You counted each breath in and out in counts of four. It wasn’t the drugs that you were planning on buying that made you nervous, but the man selling them. It felt so stupid, this whole plan was completely ridiculous but at this time you didn’t have any better idea to go off of.
You didn’t even like weed.
Your eyes closed and you played a cassette tape at a low volume, muffled sounds of music pulsating through your ears. If you could focus on this, then you could relax. You could talk to Eddie. You were sure that you could do it this time. You hoped you could do it.
The faint crackling of leaves crunching under footsteps alerted you to his presence. You kept your eyes closed and your breathing steady, not daring to open your eyes yet. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to see you a shaking mess, anxious and stuttering and probably tweaking.
“Hello?”
You opened your eyes slowly, looking up at the man in front of you. Eddie watched you with a look of mild confusion, his hand dropping to his side as if he had been waving it in an attempt to get your attention. You removed your headphones and gave a small smile.
“Hey, sorry. Long day.” you said, only stumbling over your words a little.
“I get it.” Eddie said, taking a seat across from you on the table. His black lunchbox thumped down in front of him, and he looked at you expectantly.
“So… how does this work here?” you asked. looking between him and the lunchbox. This was the most you had dared look at him since you moved to Hawkins a few weeks ago.. Having his attention, his eyes on yours, almost felt like too much. You couldn’t stop the nervous smile from spreading across your face, and you wished that you could just keep yourself normal for two minutes.
“The same way any normal transaction goes.” Eddie shrugged. “Except cash only, no returns, and for obvious reasons… no receipts.”
“I guess that means no demanding to speak to the manager then?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. To your surprise, Eddie gave a small laugh and seemed to relax just a bit.
“Demand all you want, he’ll tell you all sales are final.” He opened the box and pulled out a bag. “I got a half ounce here. $25. Should last you a while.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” You said, pulling out your wallet and pulling out some cash to hand over.
“Want to smell it first?” Eddie looked at you with a head tilt. Fuck, had you already blown it? Was that something you were supposed to do? You froze, and Eddie let out a snort. “You’ve never done this have you?”
You shook your head. “Nope. Not even once.” You admitted. There was no use in pretending otherwise. The only reason you had even set this meeting up was just an elaborate (and expensive) way to meet the only person in Hawkins you had any interest in talking to.
Ever since moving here, you weren’t a fan of the town or the people around you. You were sure that your new school would be the same and you had planned on fading into the background for the few months that you had to be here for your senior year. Who was going to want to make friends with the new girl during senior year in a small town? Cliques had been formed and no one would be wanting to add to their numbers this late in the game. Not when everyone else was going to be leaving after high school.
But Eddie had captured your attention the very first day when he’d been running around his lunch table and laughing with his friends.
“It’s not a normal thing, it’s a me thing.” Eddie tossed you the bag, not taking the money yet. “Give it a smell.”
You didn’t want to smell the bag. You really did not want to, but Eddie’s was looking at you, and his eyes were so big and round and he ASKED you to do something so…
Your face scrunched up involuntarily and you pulled your head back at the stench. “Ah. Yes. That is certainly weed. Glad to have that established.” you deadpanned.
“It’s not oregano.” Eddie confirmed, looking amused at your reaction.
“The fuck you mean it’s not?” You laughed. “Here I was thinking that I was going to be buying the best Italian seasoning on the market and here I am with a bag of weed. I feel ripped off!”
Satisfied, Eddie took the money that you had left on the table and pocketed it. “Sorry, like I said, no refunds.”
You followed suit and stuffed the bag into another bag, which was then shoved into yet another bag that had your gym clothes. Can’t be too careful.
You assumed that Eddie would turn tail and leave but instead he picked up a lighter and a cigarette from his lunchbox.
“You sit at my table at lunch.” It wasn’t a question, but a truth. Eddie had noticed you sitting there. Then again, after the roach incident…
“It’s easier to sit in the same place every day.” You said as you nervously picked at the wood on the table. “You learn what to expect.”
“And what do you expect from our table?” Eddie took a drag and offered you the cigarette. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head in a polite no. “A freakshow?”
“More bugs, but less people bugging me.” you shrugged.
Eddie snorted. “We still give Jeff shit about that.”
“Yeah well, I’d still rather sit there than anywhere else.” You swallowed. “This may come as a surprise to you, Eddie, but people here kind of suck and aren’t the most friendly.”
“So, you’d rather be seen near the freaks than associating with any other group? That’s brave.” Eddie looked you over. “I’m surprised someone like you eats in the cafeteria. I’ve never seen you talk to anyone else. Most people find a classroom to eat in if they don’t have friends.”
You stared blankly at him. “Gee. Thanks for the reminder.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide as he realized what he just said. “Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You’re not wrong.” you sighed, now wishing that you could have a drag of his cigarette. Maybe then you’d look interesting and mysterious instead of how you actually felt, which was awkward and annoyed. You knew you didn’t have friends here, but that didn’t mean he needed to point that out.
By a technicality, the Freak was more popular than you, and now you had spent $25 in an attempt to be his friend and he might not even be interested. You were starting to regret this whole stupid plan.
“You know you…. if you wanted to. You don’t have to sit near us.” Eddie looked up, and saw you deflate instantly. Eddie sat up straighter “No, not like that, I mean. You could sit with us instead. We can make room, and I swear we won’t throw anymore bugs at you.”
Eddie took another drag of the cigarette, shifting so that the second hand smoke didn’t hit you in the face. It was appreciated.
“Really? I mean, are you sure? Would the others be alright with that…?” You asked, perking up more excitedly than you meant to.
“They learned to live with Mike and Dustin, they’ll learn to like you.” Eddie gave a grin. “Besides, Hellfire needs more members if they’re gonna beat my campaign.”
“The Cult of Vecna.” You said and Eddie narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously. “Don’t give me that look, Eddie, you guys are loud. It’s not eavesdropping when you’re standing on the table with your shoes right next to my sandwich yelling about your game.”
“So you’ll join us then?” Eddie’s grin widened.
“How much for a shirt?” You shivered as the wind blew around you. “I… I might need help character creating as well. It’s been a while since I’ve played.”
Eddie slammed his hands on the table, laughing. “I knew it! I knew you were one of us. Gareth owes me $5.”
“You made a bet about this??”
“I’ve only known two other girls that play. Sinclair’s sister who’s still in middle school and Ronnie Ecker who graduated 2 years ago.” Eddie said. He was so energized now and his eyes were bright, the late afternoon sun reflecting warm caramel and gold back at you. “I saw you with that D&D book yesterday but they didn’t believe me.”
You looked at him, sighed and reached into your bag and pulled out the book that had given you away. You really had never meant to be seen with it, you’d just needed a refresher. You had played at your old school, but hadn’t had a chance to in about a year.
Eddie reached for the old module and flipped through the adventure. “Tomb of Horrors.” he said approvingly. “We played this one last year with a few tweaks, of course. What’s your level?”
“I… don’t really have much of one.” You admitted. “Back with my old group we would just make characters for whatever suited the campaign. I usually went with some flavor of half-elf bard or ranger though.”
“The others would call that cheating. Most everyone has played with the same character from level 1 for the past few years.” Eddie said. “You’d have to work to keep up with us.”
“So I’d have to start at level 1?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “Damn, you are a sadistic DM aren’t you?”
“I’m the mean and scary freak of Hawkins High,” Eddie took a final drag of his cigarette. “It’s my job.”
“You’ve been nicer to me than anyone here so far, Eddie.” You admitted
Eddie looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You swallowed, unable to look away and wondering if you had said something wrong.
“What?” You finally said.
“You’ve never bought drugs before.” Eddie said.
“….Yes. We established this.” You replied.
“Have you ever even smoked before?”
You frowned. “….Hm, no comment. I don’t think I want to answer that.”
“So that’s a no.” Eddie looked at the bag where you had stored your goods. “So why are you buying?”
You had two reasons for buying, the main reason was to give yourself a reason- any reason- to talk to him. There was a second reason though, one that you hadn’t wanted to get into but…
“I… haven’t been doing a great job of adjusting here.” You said picking at the grain of the wood of the table. “I won’t bore you with the details but… I’ve been having trouble sleeping and everything I eat just tastes like sawdust and I can’t get hungry. I was hoping this would help.”
“Do you know how to roll?”
You slumped slightly, looking down. “Eddie, I’ve never even smoked a cigarette.”
“You’re really coming in blind, huh?” there was a laughter in his voice though that made you feel less judged. “You live in Happy Forest Trailer Park. Yeah, I’ve seen you down the street circling your trailer late at night.”
“Ah. Lovely. Nice to know my night walks have been witnessed.” You groaned.
“Don’t worry, you’re still the least sketchy person there.” Eddie waived his hand. “I don’t normally do this, but you clearly need help. If you want, I’ll come over and roll for you and teach you how to smoke.”
“I feel like if you were anyone else I’d tell you to fuck off.” You said. “But, like I said, you’re the only person who’s been actively nice to me and I really can’t afford to say no. I’m… too damn tired.”
“Tonight?” Eddie offered. “We can help you put together a character.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest now. He wanted to come over to your house tonight? This plan was already going wildly off the rails but there was no stopping it.
“Okay.”
Eddie handed over his cigarette to you and you stared at it. “Just take a drag and show me where you’re at.”
You flinched, holding the cigarette in your fingers. You’d seen people smoke your whole life and the smell of it filled your memories with car rides, and heavy talks and… screaming.
“I can’t.” You said after a moment handing it back. “Sorry. I know it’s stupid. Weed is one thing but-”
“Hey, no need to explain.” Eddie said, snuffing it out. “I don’t know what just happened but don’t worry about it.”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
Eddie looked at his watch. “I have to meet up with someone else. Go home, I’ll be there tonight.” He closed his lunchbox and stood up and you followed suit.
“I’ll be home all night.” You said. “Thank you, by the way. For all of this. I hope it helps.”
Eddie chuckled. “Not many people stick around and talk to me after, let alone thank me. They usually take what they bought and run.”
“Sit with us on Monday.” Eddie said. “I’ll come over tonight.” He was sparing you from saying what you wanted to say; that you wanted so badly to be friends with them.
“I wanted to talk to you.” You admitted, and Eddie looked surprised. “I mean, I don’t have anyone here in Hawkins. Like anyone. And, I don’t know, I like hearing you and your friends talk at lunch and you all seem to actually like each other so… I…”
“Tonight.” You nodded.
The two of you parted ways, Eddie taking a separate way out of the woods while you headed towards the parking lot.
Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad.
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It is October, and you know what that means! Maria gets to commit a war crime as a birthday gift. Honestly, on the list of things nobody asked for I'm pretty sure smut with Kenjaku is like way up there, but it's my birthday (at the end of the month) and I get to chose the war crime!
Kenjaku x Reader. 1.3k words
NSFW, minors leave. tw for: dubcon, manipulation, Kenjaku's stitches snapping, brain fluid, a little bit of the brain too
When Kenjaku took over Geto's body he kept the cult, at least for a while. they were an useful logistical asset and source of income - something even he needed from time to time. he was still living amongst normal humans, inhabiting flesh. there would always be some material needs that were an unescapable reality.
Kenjaku himself didn't really care for those things, he was an existence beyond just human by this point. but while the bodies he inhabited were technically dead, while he gave continuity to their existence, they still had needs. itches to be scratched. some boring and a chore, but others fun and enjoyable to indulge in.
He prized himself in living life fully, afterall, and some of those itches were delightful parts of a life fully lived.
And that's how Kenjaku found himself watching you when you weren't looking. eyes following your form from dark hallways and tall windows. you were a part of Suguru Geto's old group. a pretty thing, a sorcerer, not especially powerful but good with barriers and very devoted. devoted and smitten with him.
Well, smitten with Geto.
But this was not Geto. not anymore, though you were still blissfully unaware of that. sure, you found the stitches across his forehead strange, everyone did, but Kenjaku was good at imitating the original personality of his host body. and anyone still alive in Geto's little group was already primed to believe whatever their leader said.
So you accepted every excuse, went along with the charade, followed him around faithfully. it was cute, really, almost like a puppy following it's owner. a devotion you don't come accross very often nowadays. you enjoyed every once of attention he gave you, ate up every crumb of affection.
Kenjaku enjoyed it, he found it fun, like a silly little game. he had you wrapped around his finger and even he wasn't beyond seeing the appeal of toying with someone like that. sure, he could just take what he wanted, but that would be all business and no play, boring. so he kept leading you around on a long, long leash until he found it was time to close the gap.
Slowly he began cornering you in situations where he would be so close. so affectionate. physical, even. like a mockingbird, Kenjaku speaks and even smiles in a mimicry of Geto's kind demeanor. he tucks your hair behind your ear with a gentle touch, caresses your face softly at random moments, holds your hand in his warm one when no one is around. and you fall for it, like easy prey.
Soon enough he has you alone in an empty room, body pressed against his as you sit on a table. you were completly nude before him while he still had his kimono and the innermost layer of his robes on, having discarded his pants and outermost layers. his clothes hung open on his body, but they still shielded most of it. this was good for Kenjaku, your full nakedness brought another layer of vulnerability to your situation that he enjoyed throughfully.
It doesn't take much take much for you to give into him, just a few soft words and a little bit of pressure and you already bend. you'd do anything for Geto anyway, so he might as well just hitch a ride on all of that devotion. who is him to burst your bubble? it's a small merciful lie, letting you believe it's your dearest cult leader burying his cock into your pussy instead of Kenjaku. out of sight out of mind, as they say.
So he fucks himself into you under the cover of that silly lie, going deep and hard, taking your body for his pleasure. he abuses your mouth and takes your body for his pleasure, slamming into your pussy mercilessly until tears are spilling from your eyes. Kenjaku finds your tears to be alluring, your whines of 'too much' so enticing, urging him to move faster and harder.
He likes the touch of sweaty skin, the broken sounds, the trembling bodies. you are clawing at his back and neck and Kenjaku laughs at just how weak you feel under him, pussy clenching tight with your every pitiful cry. you bury your hand in his long hair making him hiss when you grip him. oh, that's almost dangerous, the stitches around his forehead still too fresh for this type of rough treatment - but this could be fun.
Kenjaku groans as he feels pleasure building higher, hips moving faster and deeper into you. you've got bite marks and hickeys all over your chest and neck, and he is sure you'll have bruises on the shape of his fingers all over your body. you are crying and shaking in pleasure, so clearly overwhelmed as his tongue pushes its way into your mouth. the hand on his hair pulls harder, fingers treading on his locks when you give it a harsh tug, making the stitches on his head start snapping.
It all happens fast, the snapping of the stitches, the separating of the skin. at first not much, just enough for liquid to start to flow down his face while he thrusts hard into you. but soon it changes, more liquid spilling down his mouth and into yours, his hips never stopping their vicious hammering. that's when you notice something is wrong, the strange liquid coating your tongue and feeling wet on your face.
You don't even scream, only emitting a high pitched whine in therror when you look up at what you think is Geto. your eyes meet the gap between the two pieces of his skull from where you are pulling at the scalp, Kenjaku's undone stitches leaving a large open gap, brain visible underneath. you freeze, and he just finds it more endearing, having no mercy as he keeps fucking into you faster and faster. the fear and confusion in your eyes only make him feel closer to his orgasm.
"w-what are you?" you whimper, too weak to even properly protest against him, both hands drpping to his arms.
"what do you mean," Kenjaku says with a smile, "it's me, your dear Suguru, what's wrong, sweetheart?" he whispers against your ear.
"what's going on," you cry out, swiping your fingers over the liquid dripping in your face, and he coos at how pitiful it sounds.
"shhhh, dear, what's gotten into you," he sushes you softly, but the pistoning of his hips doesn't match the gentleness of his voice. "hold still, I'm almost there."
You are shaking, glancing between your fingers and the gash on his hand. he can't tell if your whimpering and whining is from his abuse of your pussy or from the sight you've just had - but it doesn't matter anyways, the sweet sounds pushing him over the edge either way. Kenjaku buries himself deep in you, pulling your body flush against his as he paints your walls white with his thick cum. you cry out when he pulls your body into his forcefully but that's the measure of your protest, otherwise you just take what he gives.
When he looks back at you, the mimicry of a soft smile painted on his, he finds you still wide eyed and confused. yeah, Kenjaku can imagine that this is one hell of a way to find you the truth. he licks a spot of the liquid that dropped on your face, shushing you gently as he pulls out, your pussy gaping from his abuse and leaking his thick seed. he looks back at you, smiling wide and already redoing the stitches on his head. You look up at him so confused, so vulnerable - it's adorable. maybe he should try to find a way to keep you around.
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Whumpuary Day 5-6
Prompt: “This is gonna hurt.”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; description and treatment of injury; blood.
There weren’t a lot of things you could say were worse than trying to survive in a dystopian world with walking corpses that want nothing other than to eat you alive. Seeing Daryl in pain though? That ranks almost at the top of the list.
Currently, you were trapped in a warehouse, surrounded by the dead, and your partner had a piece of bone protruding from the lower part of his left leg. It would have to be set and soon. He would barely be able to walk after you handled it, but definitely not before.
Still, you were hidden in a small square of pallets. All it would take was one walker wandering off and rounding the end. You had no choice but to act fast.
“Daryl.” You whispered as loudly as you dared, patting the side of his face to rouse him. His face scrunched, eyes clenching shut before fluttering open. His expression remained pinched and heavily lined with pain. You already had your finger to your lips when his eyes focused and found your face. “Your leg’s broken.”
“No shit.” He whispered sharply, immediately muttering an apology. “Gotta set it. Can’ walk on it like this.”
“I know.” Your expression radiated sympathy. “This is gonna hurt.” The moment he bit back a snarky retort did not go unnoticed. He decided to simply nod instead. You needed to be strategic but thorough. The leg was a mess, blood steadily oozing from around the bone.
“Get on with it, woman.” Daryl was panting, visibly steeling his resolve for the pain that was to come. You swallowed hard, knowing for certain that it would take little effort for him to buck you off in an automatic reflex. It was a risk you’d have to take.
Pressing a knee onto his thigh, you reached to grasp his ankle. When you forced the first move, your body lifted with the rigid tension of the muscles under your knee. To his credit, the archer didn’t make a sound, merely pulling deep breaths through clenched teeth. You couldn’t stop now. It needed to be like ripping off a bandaid. A large, shifting of bone, bloody bandaid.
Your free hand came to rest just above the protrusion. Biting your own lip, you shifted his ankle and placed gentle but firm pressure against the bone, feeling the grind beneath your palm. Daryl’s breaths were becoming harsher behind you but you persevered. Blood was spilling onto the concrete. It was only a matter of time before the walkers picked up the scent. With only the dim light of the moon through the windows far overhead, you made sure the bones were aligned and gave one last twist and push, the audible adjustment finally enough to draw a scream from your hunter.
You released his leg and twisted around to press both of your bloody palms against his mouth, your forehead against his. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Ssh.” You soothed, looking over his shoulder and through the spaces between pallets. The dead had frozen, their heads moving robotically to try and pin down the origin of the sound.
Daryl’s eyes were wide, clouded, and frenzied. The pain being severe enough to overload the archer’s senses meant that it was bad.
“I know, ssh.” You kept one hand over his mouth and let the other pet over his hair, rising enough to press your lips to his damp forehead while you kept your eyes on the walkers. They were still on alert but beginning to shuffle along. You just needed to guide Daryl through the worst of the discomfort and get him on his feet.
Slowly and carefully, you maneuvered from the awkward position you had found yourself in while trying to silence him. Your hand still over his mouth, you now straddled his thighs, keeping your boots away from the injury on his shin. His breathing was beginning to return to normal, eyelids heavy over a dazed set of electric blue irises.
“Daryl, are you with me?”
A cool hand wrapped around your wrist and moved your palm away from his mouth. “M’here.” He whispered tiredly. Before you could rethink the urge, you pressed your mouth to his, hard and desperate, as well as apologetic. When you separated, your foreheads still touching, he thumbed away the blood on your mouth with a weak smirk. His mouth looked horrible though the blood had come from your hands. You tried and failed to smile, using your sleeve to wipe the mess from his face as best you could. “Le’s get outta here, sunshine.”
You stubbornly refused to cry, sniffing as you pulled away and rose to your feet as slowly as possible. There was a slim chance the movement could be noticed through the spaces between the pallets. “I’ll splint your leg once we get far enough away. They can handle the rest at the infirmary.” You offered your hand, the other gripping beneath his arm to help him to his feet. Daryl nodded once, leaning on you as you led the way.
The journey was slow, shifting and ducking to stay out of sight until you could reach the door. A few stragglers lingered there. Shit. The only option was to make a run for the bike.
“Daryl—”
“I know.” He knew what you were thinking. Of course he did. The two of you were a well oiled machine, becoming a force to be reckoned with over the years. You dipped your chin and mouthed a countdown. When you hit one, you moved together, his arm over your shoulders and yours around his back. His limp was pronounced but he didn’t slow down. Walker after walker reached for the two of you as you passed, signaling the others with their eager snarls and increased pace.
There was no time to argue once you reached the bike. One second would be enough for either of you to be in danger of being grabbed. Daryl knew he couldn’t drive, but that didn’t stop him from cursing a blue streak when he had to climb on behind you. Only a portion of the vulgarity was due to pain.
“Don’t worry!” You called over the rumbling engine. “I won’t tell anyone I finally got you to ride bitch for me.” Toeing up the kickstand, you urged the motorcycle into motion, decaying fingers only inches away from finding purchase.
His leg was a pulsing, painful disaster but Daryl couldn’t resist holding tighter around your waist and brushing his lips over the side of your neck to lean in close to your ear. “Guess it ain’t so bad if s’you m’ doin’ it fer.”
“Don’t distract me!” You laughed. He could just picture your beaming smile. “I’ll crash and fuck up your other leg!”
“Nah, wouldn’ wan’ all tha’.” He smirked, resting his chin on your shoulder as you handled the bike like a pro, eating up the miles toward home.
Taglist:
@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47
#whumpuary2024#whumpuaryno3#“this is gonna hurt”#severe injury#blood#the walking dead#fic#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl whump#daryl dixon whump
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Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Dammon, and Zevlor react to his short gn s/o asking him to sit down after asking for his permission to kiss him on the lips?
Summary: Absolutely!!
Warnings: Nothing! this is just fluff!
Notes: I know these are quite short for how long they took, and I do apologise! My mind is currently on another BG3 project, which I hope to be made available soon! Requests are still being worked on, though!
My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!
Wyll
"A kiss from you? How could I ever refuse?" Wyll is always sweet when it comes to affection between the two of you. He absolutely loves kisses, and is always a gentleman about them.
When you ask him to sit down, though, he's a little taken aback - he's used to you either standing on tiptoes, or simply leaning down to kiss you. He obliges, though - somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks it's more sweet than anything else.
He doesn't sit, per se, he gets down on one knee for you instead - if you ask about it afterwards he'll just give you "Well, an honourable knight kneels before his suitor, hm?" As a joke - knowing that most see him as a typical 'knight in shining armour' figure.
He really likes the idea, though. In his head, it's like you're viewing one another as equals in this small act of intimacy, which he is all for!
He likes it so much, he actually begins to do it more of his own accord, just so that you know he's always thinking of you too.
Dammon
Dammon always blushes when you ask to kiss him. He's a huuuge fan of consent, of course - who isn't? - He just gets flustered by the sweet tone you always take with him.
It's not that you even need to ask him - he often tells you after you ask "You know you never actually need to ask me that, don't you?" It's not a slight to you, but more a reminder that he trusts you. He trusts you wholly, and completely.
When you ask him to sit, though, he's... A tad confused. You've never asked him to do that before, normally you just press a kiss to his cheek or jaw and that's your kiss, until you snuggle together later on.
He doesn't argue too much, though; sitting on a stool he often kept nearby for breaks in his work. He doesn't have to wait long till your lips are pressed against his - and it makes him shiver. He has to admit, when a more dominant side of you shows... He loves it!
Zevlor
Zevlor is a little confused at first when you ask him to sit down, and you can see it flit across his features for a moment. But, he doesn't say anything in protest, and quickly does as you ask.
As you start to sit on his lap, he begins to chuckle - a deep rumbling in his chest that he can't help. He had assumed, of course, that him being sat down was to help you get to his lips easier, but he hadn't expected you to go and sit on his lap.
Not that he'd argue with it, of course. He absolutely loves sharing affection with you, in whatever way it comes. Being able to hold you close to his chest as you pepper his face in light kisses has definitely become a personal favourite of his though...
It soon becomes almost common place for him, at the end of a particularly long day, to sit down and wait for you to come into the same room as him, at which point, he'll lightly pat his leg, inviting you to come over to him and share some much needed affection. Of course he doesn't get upset if you say no, he'll just smile and lean back to catch a moment of respite.
#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 fanfiction#x reader oneshot#x reader requests#requests open#baldurs gate x reader#bg3 x reader#zevlor x reader#zevlor x you#zevlor bg3#dammon bg3#dammon x reader#dammon x you#wyll x reader#wyll ravengard#bg3 wyll#wyll bg3#baldurs gate wyll
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No Longer a Secret pt 6
Summary: The one with A LOT of planning and phone-calls.
Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader
W/C: 7.1k
Rating: PG, age gap
TWs: none
A/N: So... I honestly wasn't planning on writing it today, but welp - it kinda spilled, so here we go... There is not a lot of action in this one, but a few Original Characters were very briefly introduced. Most of them will become a part of this story, so if you have any questions about them - please feel free to ask. One day, when there will be more of them included, I will most likely make a separate post dedicated to them, but for now - there are comments, asks, and messages :)
Taglist: @crimeshowjunkie, @omgsuperstarg
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | List of tags | Playlist for the series
Of course, there was a party after the race. Your first one with the team... And you seriously considered it being the last one, because currently you could hear the grass growing with your whole body and it hurt like a motherfucker. How the rest of the people on the jet weren't hungover? You had no idea. It must have been witchcraft. Because you couldn't explain it any other way, since you were the youngest of them all.
There was some light teasing, but after they realized how genuinely miserable you were, they stopped, and someone even brought you another alka-seltzer, a bottle of cold water, and chewing gum, for which you were extremely grateful because without it you would have definitely thrown up when the plane was climbing to the higher altitudes.
When it was safe to unbuckle the belts, everyone started moving and making conversation. Still, you were definitely not in the right state of mind for any of that, so when Toto motioned you closer to him, you gladly did just that and sat across his lap, with your legs over the soft armrest. He reclined the chair, so you would be more laying on your left side than sitting, which helped relieve the heartburn almost instantly. He was so gentle with you, that you almost melted into his soft shirt that smelled faintly of the detergent he used at home. With his one arm supporting your back and the other resting on your thighs, you felt much better.
You could see the other people trying to hide the surprised looks on their faces at the sight of you two cozying up because even though your relationship was no longer a secret, it must have been a little bit weird to witness the casual physical affection for the first time. But if you were completely honest, you didn't mind. You were all still getting used to the new dynamic between you and them, so it was only natural that it might take some time. And they weren't exactly weird or uncomfortable either, so you knew that sooner rather than later all the wrinkles will iron themselves out.
- Schatzi, we were supposed to decide on who should do the interview... - Toto said quietly, gently rubbing his thumb over your thigh. You honestly forgot about it, so you were glad that he brought it up. - But if you're not up for it now...
- No, I'm good, I'm good. - you said with a weak smile. - But after running it over and over in my head, I honestly think that Laura would be the best choice. - you stated, and when normally you would look up at him, this time you kept your head on his shoulder and kept your eyes closed.
- The talk show host? - he knew who Laura was from your stories, but he still made sure.
- Yes. In the past she had a few special episodes dedicated to interviewing one person when the topic was hot, so we could fit into that category. - you started explaining, and your warm breath tickled Toto's neck, which made him scrunch his nose and smile. - She's known for not taking any bullshit, so she definitely wouldn't go easy on us, but her reputation and the fact that it would air on BBC would give it more weight. - you explained the reasons behind this choice, and Toto only hummed in agreement.
- Don't you think we're a bit too low on a food chain to appear on her show? Doesn't she host celebrities? - those questions were genuine, and under normal circumstances, you would have agreed. But you two unintentionally became a sensation overnight and even people outside of the racing community were interested in you as a couple.
- She does, but right now... Let me show you, it will be quicker. - you mumbled and reached for your phone, but it was in your bag, so instead you took his from the table, unlocked it, typed his name into the browser, and showed him the screen with numerous headlines. "Toto Wolff is a spoken man and ladies are howling", "19 things surprisingly younger than the age gap between Toto Wolff and Y/n Y/ln.", "What do we know about Toto Wolff and Y/n Y/ln?", "Y/n Y/ln - from a respected reporter to a WAG of Toto Wolff" and many, many more.
- I see... - you could tell he wasn't exactly enjoying this type of attention, but you couldn't do anything about it right now.
- I'm sorry, I could have planned it better... - you mumbled quietly and put your head back on his shoulder.
- It's not your fault, Schatzi. - he squeezed your body a little bit tighter and placed a soft kiss on your temple. - I just wasn't expecting it to blow up to this degree. But we'll get through it together. - you could hear a smile in his voice. - So. Laura? - he circled back.
- Yes, Laura. She'll be tough, but if we ask her to avoid specific topics, she will. And that reminds me... Our families. - you sighed. Because you were so caught up in the heat of the moment, and then the race, that you didn't fully grasp the number of things you haven't thought about. - My mother is one thing and I will deal with her, but your kids... At the party, you told them you were going to call them back. - you reminded him, because you weren't exactly sure how much of last night he remembered, and his son called him rather late.
- Thank you, I'll do that when we land. I would also like you to officially meet them sooner rather than later if that's ok with you. - you weighed his words for a short moment in your head, considering if Toto having some time alone with them first wouldn't be better, just to let all the possible emotions out, and answer all the questions without an outsider present, but on the other hand they could read it as him trying to hide you from them.
- Of course. Let me know when, and I'll make the time. - from what Toto told you about them, it shouldn't be that hard, and you hoped that seeing with their own eyes exactly how much you loved their father would help, although you felt like you were starting from a weak position. Fortunately, Toto already told them that he was seeing someone around half a year ago, but he hasn't told them specifically who. So, finding out from social media or worse - their friends might have been hard.
Even though his face was donning a gentle smile, it wasn't hard for you to notice that he was in a sour mood, but you also knew it was temporary. He liked to have everything covered, and the whiplash of your announcement wasn't something he predicted. And you were no better because even though you knew people would be interested, you would have never thought that it would be such a giant sensation.
- We have a lot of fires to put out. - you chuckled quietly and closed your eyes again. - I'll call Laura when we'll land and hash out the details, but if we don't want to wait till next week, we should be ready to do this on Wednesday. - you put your hand over his heart just to feel it beat under your fingers.
- What about the guests she's supposed to have? - you could feel the vibrations of his voice under your hand even through the material of his shirt.
- Let me worry about that, Dashuria Ime, you already have enough on your plate. - you replied, rubbing your cheek on his shoulder and it was his time to laugh, unintentionally grabbing the attention of the rest of the plane, but seeing you two cozied up and clearly talking about something, they didn't interrupt. Although you suspected that they would start listening closer to what you were saying, and they were in for a treat. - I was also thinking about our conversation from Friday... - you started quietly, and you could feel him perk up under you.
- And...? - he asked after your intentional pause.
- And considering the race schedule and the fact that most drivers will stay in the UK, I'd like to start the company and recordings as soon as possible... - his shoulders slumped just a tiny bit, but the smile on your face didn't go away. You knew he was expecting to hear something else, so you stalled on purpose just to tease him. - And to start the recordings, I'm gonna need a studio. And to have a studio...? - you left the end of the sentence hanging in the air and Toto laughed out loud again.
- You will need to move out...? - he finished for you, even though he didn't have to, and you could almost hear the others getting quieter, sensing something interesting, almost like piranhas. Although they were significantly less bloodthirsty.
- I will need to move out. - you confirmed, and the others were no longer pretending to talk, now openly listening to your conversation, and you didn't even have to open your eyes to know that.
- So I'm guessing that... How did you say it...? "I'm not just gonna move all my stuff in one day"... - he imitated your accent surprisingly well, and you couldn't hold the laughter. - ...was a lie? -
- Wait, are you guys moving in together? - Lewis was the first one to jump on the topic and the excitement in his voice was very clear.
- It looks like it... - you finally opened your eyes again and rested them on Lewis’s bright smile.
- Congratulations! - he immediately wanted to get up to get closer to the both of you, and ask more questions, but this was the moment when turbulences hit, and just as he was standing up, he fell back into his chair, and the whole plane's attention was on him. Partially to make sure that he was ok, but mostly because he made a funny sound when he fell over, and now everyone was either openly laughing or trying to hide the giggle. - Hey! Not my fault! Anyways, what do you guys want as a housewarming gift?
- Some damn peace and quiet would be nice... - Toto mumbled loud enough that everyone could hear him, still a little bit hung up on the whole media hurricane.
- We'll worry about that on the ground. Let's just have a few more moments without that, hmmm? - your voice was soft, and he couldn't help but agree; there was nothing either of you could do right now, and your hand gently placed over his heart made him take a deep breath and then let it out, which you instantly recognized as him banishing the thought from his head. - And, Lewis, we don't need anything, but the thought is appreciated, thank you. - you smiled at the driver, and he just nodded in response, but you had a sneaky suspicion that one day there will be a package waiting for you on the doorstep.
- By the way, we were talking with Valtteri about something... - he started, and you looked at the Fin, not even trying to hide the curiosity. - ...how we, as drivers, could help you guys with the media. And I had a rather radical idea, so I wanted to run it by you before implementing it. - you nodded your head, urging him to continue. - Because as you said, there is no way you'll be left alone for a while, and there is a high chance that we will be asked about the two of you as well. So, I thought that we could just... Thank them for the interview, end it, and walk away without saying anything more. - he explained, and you couldn't help but wonder when exactly they found the time to discuss it between the party, sleep, and all the hecticness of the morning.
- This way it'll send a clear message that we're sticking together as a family. - Valtteri added and you took a moment to contemplate their words. You looked up at Toto, trying to gauge what he thought about it, and he didn't have to say a word for you to know how he felt.
- As much as I love the idea, I think it should be run first by your PR team. There might be a clause somewhere that you're obligated to do a certain amount of media time, during race week. - you started carefully. Now, that you realized what a clusterfuck this whole situation was, you thought about everything in a much more professional and calculated way. - Plus, I wouldn't want you to face additional heat because of us.
- Neither of us would. - Toto echoed, and you could hear a smile in his voice.
- I don't think we... care about that...? - Lewis looked at Valtteri with a question in his eyes as if he wasn't sure.
- No. - Fin added with a smile - And we want to take the stand. - it wasn't rare to see them agreeing on something, but it still felt nice - knowing that they had your back even though they found out just a couple of days ago.
- Yeah, because the longer it goes, the longer all of us will have to deal with it. And it's just not right... - you couldn't help but sigh at his words, because he was 100% right. - But of course, as you said, we will run it by PR first.
- Thank you, guys... And I really appreciate it. It means a lot. - you gave them both a gentle smile. - And we will do an official interview, so hopefully, it will satisfy the public at least a little.
- Oh, you're doing one? When? - Lewis was much more interested in that than Valtteri, who went back to reading his book.
- We're still a little bit fuzzy on the details, but if it goes our way - Wednesday. - you answered, but before Lewis managed to ask more questions about it, the pilot said over the intercom that you'll be landing soon, and everyone should take their seats and fasten their belts. Before you got up, you wanted to place a quick kiss on Toto's cheek, but he turned his head and intercepted your lips with a cheeky grin.
Eventually, you were back in your chair, and it wasn't long before you were steady on the ground. It was the first time you flew on the private jet, so you weren't exactly sure what was the customs procedure, however, you definitely weren't expecting an officer to board the plane and process you right then and there, but you were grateful for not having to deal with the crowds of the airport.
Before Toto even started the car, you gently touched his shoulder and mouthed silently "Your Kids" while you waited for Laura to answer. He smiled as a thank you and left the car to call his children and explain everything in more detail, while you went off at the speed of light as soon as your best friend picked up the phone, explaining your plan and overall situation, at the same time confirming that she will have exclusivity on the interview. You knew that appearing on Laura's show was coming with risks and exposing you and Toto to an even wider audience was one of them, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You quickly bounced the ideas for the placement, set, wardrobe, and everything else, and because you knew each other so well, something that usually took at least a few days and a bunch of emails, took you around 15 minutes.
Toto was still outside, talking with his children, so you also shot a message to the other potential interviewers, thanking them for being willing to take that opportunity and rescinding your offer. You also quickly realized there was not a chance in hell you would be able to handle everything by yourself during the next week, so you took two deep breaths and started compartmentalizing and finding possible opportunities to delegate.
First - you shot a message to Mellie, asking if she could talk, and almost instantly after you click "send", she was calling you back, which didn't even surprise you.
- Hey Mells, are you free this week? - you asked, without even exchanging pleasantries, because in the type of friendship you had, they were simply not needed.
- Do you really have to ask, hun? - her laugh sounded like delicate chimes. You could almost imagine her lounging next to her pool while a professional chef was somewhere in the background preparing breakfast.
- I know, I know, but I wouldn’t be myself if I didn't ask. - you chuckled. - So, I'm gonna need someone to oversee the renovation of my apartment into a recording studio, and since you are elbows deep in real estate and you know my taste pretty well... - you didn't even have to finish.
- Say no more! I was bored anyway. What's the timeline? - she asked with pure excitement in her voice. You knew she liked to help her friends and had both the means and the time to do so, but you still felt a little bit bad asking her for such a huge endeavor.
- If we'll pack and move everything tonight, you could start tomorrow. Do you think you'll be able to finish by the end of the week? - you asked.
- Honey, with the right equipment I can finish in less than two minutes. - she laughed and you couldn't help but chuckle. - But in all seriousness, if I'll be able to get the crew there tomorrow, everything should be ready on Friday. - it was much sooner than you expected, but you also knew she had her tricks.
- Even if I wanted to build a wall separating my current office upstairs from the downstairs? Because I would like to put the recording studio there. - you made sure.
- That won't be a problem. It will be enough time for the wall to dry, so you're good. I'm gonna prepare a few sketches before we'll meet in the afternoon, ok? - you could almost hear gears shifting in her head.
- Ok, but just to be quick. Guest bedroom into a quiet place to recharge, my bedroom into an office that can be quickly turned into a conference room. The kitchen and bathrooms stay as they are, but you can of course make changes, I'm leaving it up to you. And the salon should be an office space with 8 working stations. Oh, and that closet next to the terrace into an equipment closet. Just please don't treat the budget as a light suggestion... - you quickly explained. Fortunately, Mellie was at your place enough times to know the layout pretty well.
- The wardrobe on the left to the entry stays as a wardrobe, I assume. And you want to leave two full bathrooms with no one living there? - she asked, already making mental notes.
- Yeah, it stays, and the bathrooms... I mean, I'm not sure about the smaller one, but overall, I plan on having 11 or 12 people hired, so at least two toilets would be nice. I mean, some of them could definitely work remotely on a daily basis, but one bathroom definitely won't be enough. - you said after taking a few seconds to think.
- I can renovate the bigger one, get rid of the bathtub, add a wall or two, and fit two stalls there. And leave the one with the shower as it is. - she offered.
- That actually... sounds amazing. Thank you, Mellie. - you were grateful for the suggestion because you haven't even considered doing something like that.
- You got it. Anything else you have in mind? - she inquired, and you went through your mental list.
- No, not really. I trust you. - you eventually replied.
- Ok, then I'm hanging up and scheduling the crew for tomorrow at noon. Love you, Boo. - she made a kissing sound over the phone, and you laughed.
- Thanks again, Mells. - she was the one who hung up, and you took another deep breath, deciding what to prioritize next, but just as you were about to make another call, you saw a message from Laura, sent from her business email, which meant it was an official BBC business. The message included a very lenient but still long contract, and you didn't have the time to go through every point, but just as you were about to ask Toto if you could steal Mark again, you got a private message from Laura.
"I've fought for it, it's good, but you can still run it by your lawyer. Both of you can sign it before the photo shoot."
And a few seconds later you got another email from her, this time containing the exact schedule for Wednesday, and extensive details about the photoshoot that - if you agreed - would take place in about two hours. Laura also compiled a file with the names of the photographer, stylist, make-up artist, and hair stylist, their previous works, and a few proposals of what they had in mind for you and Toto. Sometimes you forgot how quickly your best friend could work, and how detail-oriented she was, for which right now, you were extremely grateful. You could see that she definitely included herself in every part of the process, judging by what options were prepared for you.
Just as you were about to look closer at the proposed wardrobe, Toto came back to the car and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.
- Everything went ok...? - you asked, still scrolling through the file. Usually, he had your full attention, but right now, there was no time.
- Yes. As it turns out, you are Rosie's favorite reporter on the grid, so you helped me score some points back, because she - indeed - found out from one of her friends. But they both can't wait to meet you in person. - he gave you a warm smile when you quickly glanced up from your phone. - And how are things on the battlefront? - he asked as he started the car.
- Hectic. The interview will be live on Wednesday at 21:00, but we will have to be there at 19:00. I already have the contracts, and Laura assured me that they're good, and I trust her, but we can still run them by a lawyer. - you looked at Toto with a question in your eyes.
- Forward them to Mark and add P1 before the title. That way he will look at them immediately. - he smiled, and you quickly did what he asked, while you were slowly rolling out of the parking lot.
- BBC also wants to do a quick photoshoot for promotional materials, because right now they have nothing to run an announcement with. - you added, sparing him all the specific details. - In the main studio at 11 if we agree of course.
- Wow, you are really quick, Schatzi. - he chuckled. - And the sooner we get it over with, the better.
- That was actually Laura. But we have about an hour to freshen up in my apartment before we go. - You quickly replied to the second email that the photo shoot is a go.
- A lot can be done in one hour... - he said in a teasing voice, but he immediately realized, that you had other plans, so he dropped the topic. What was happening right now, was your domain, and he intended to put his full trust in you. - Is there any way I could help? - he asked sincerely.
- Actually... Could I borrow Mark for a few days? I will need help with registering a new company, trademarks, and the first few contracts. Just until I find my own lawyer who I could trust. - you asked, with your eyes still glued to your phone. - And do you want to choose your clothes and hairstyle for the interview?
- Of course, you can. I have him on retainer, and I never used his full hours. And – just an idea - you can stay with his company, I'm sure he will find someone who will suit your future needs. But for now, I will let him know that he should expect a bigger workload from you. - you were extremely grateful for that because everything was happening so fast. You landed in England not even an hour ago, and you already had your next few days fully packed. - You have a much better sense of fashion than me, Schatzi, so I’m leaving it up to you... - he answered the second question, and gently placed his hand on your thigh, seeking the physical touch that brought both of you comfort. You quickly chose the hair, make-up, and clothes for the photo shoot, sent it in the reply to Laura's email, and took another deep breath, holding it for a few seconds in your lungs. So many things were happening at the same time, and you had to keep yourself in check because if you didn't, you would be crushed under the weight of all the decisions. And after analyzing everything, you came to the obvious conclusion - you needed more help if you wanted everything to be done on time, but that had to wait a moment because you just arrived at your apartment.
Toto took both his travel bag and your suitcase from the car and carried them into the building, while you wrapped your hand around his waist and hid under the pleasant weight of his arm, where - at least for a moment - the outside world couldn't reach you.
You didn't have to tell him where anything was, because by now he was here enough times to get familiar with not only the layout, but also with where you kept the extra bag of flour in the kitchen, or in which drawer you kept your fresh linen.
- I'm going to take a shower and make breakfast... You do you. - he stated, anticipating that you will be much busier during that hour than he will be. He was right, of course, and you were extremely grateful that he was willing to help.
- Thank you... - you gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before he brought your bags to the bedroom. While he was under the shower, you started scrolling through your contact list, searching for potential future employees. You needed trusted people, people who you worked with in the past and you knew from experience that you worked well together. So, when you spotted a familiar name almost on the top of your list, you immediately dialed her.
- Hey Lynn. It's Y/n Y/ln. - you introduced yourself because you weren't sure if she still had your number. - You were interning under me around a year ago when I was interviewing David Coulthard and you helped me with some research.
- Yes, of course, I remember. It's good to hear from you. - a soft, soothing voice replied, and you could almost hear the smile in it.
- I'm calling to offer you a job... - you started bluntly because you didn't have time to dance around the topic. - For one month as my assistant, and after that - as a full-time researcher, mostly into things related to F1. - you took a quick breath - I'm not gonna lie, the first month would be brutal, but I promise not to bother you outside of working hours. Starting pay is 3k, but it will be changed as your title will change, to reflect your new position. Insurance, private medical care with dental, and all that legal shabang will, of course, be covered. For the first month, I would need you with me in London, but after that - the job can be performed remotely, and the equipment will be provided. - you quickly hashed out the details. You didn't have everything mentioned lined up yet, but you thought about it a lot yesterday, and you knew you wanted to be a good employer, and from experience, you also knew what most people needed from a job to stay happy and loyal, and that's what you were aiming for.
- What's the catch? - she asked in that smooth tone.
- You would have to start tomorrow. And like I've said - the first month will be brutal. - you replied, slowly suspecting which way she was leaning, but you still gave her a few more moments to analyze the pros and cons.
- Since your departure from the Network was rather public, I assume it would be for some other project? - she quickly deduced.
- Yes. I'm starting my own company, and I'm piecing together a crew for it. It will focus on long and extensive interviews. First with current drivers, and if it will catch some winder under its wings - hopefully we will expand. - you replied.
- Independently or for a streaming service? - she dug a little bit deeper, and you couldn't help but admire just how quickly she was able to connect the dots.
- Fully independent.
- I'm in. - she replied as soon as you finished saying the last word.
- That's awesome! Thank you. I will send you the contract either today evening or tomorrow morning. And if I'll know that I won't be able to send it to you today, I will let you know so you won't be pointlessly waiting for it. But for now - do you have any more questions? - your heart honestly felt lighter than just an hour ago.
- What time do I start tomorrow? And where do we meet? - you couldn't help but laugh with relief.
- 9 AM. But you can start from your own apartment. I'm gonna need you to compile a list of external HR companies that also handle accounting, with the best independent reviews, not that bullshit point system from the most popular websites. I want someone legit who won't take bullshit. And since I already know you're good at what you do, the top 3 would be enough. And if you will have enough time after that - I will also need a company that offers both web and graphic design services, with a focus on quality and time; budget right now doesn't matter. - you explained and just as you finished, you felt your phone vibrating with yet another notification.
- HR. Web and Graphic Design. - she repeated.
- I know you're already confirmed, but I'm gonna ask once more. Are you sure you want this job? - you asked because yet again - you got this feeling that everything was happening with the speed of light.
- I'm sure. To be honest, I've somehow landed in a stereotypical corpo-job, so I'm taking your offer as a sign to stop slaving away. - she laughed, and you joined her. - Plus, I know you keep your promises, and you wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t serious.
- And you won't have any problems with resigning on the spot? - you made sure.
- Not with the contract I have with them. - she soothed your worries.
- Ok then. I'll speak to you tomorrow. Oh, and send me your personal details, including the current address for the contract and the courier. I'll try to get a new phone and computer to you by tomorrow, and if you have any preferences for your set-up, please include that in your message. I honestly want you to be as satisfied with everything as possible.
- Do I have a set budget? - she asked quickly before you managed to hang up, and you had to think about it for a moment.
- Don't make me regret it, but... no. Just be sensible and don't order something with i9. - you both laughed again. - Thank you, Lynn.
- You got it, boss. - she laughed and ended the call. You quickly checked the notification that came during your conversation. It was an email from Mark giving you a green light to sign the contract with BBC and asking how you managed to negotiate such terms. You quickly replied and asked if it would be possible to talk over the phone. And yet again today - he was calling you almost as soon as you send the message.
- Hi Mark, I hope I'm not interrupting you too much.
- Hey Y/n. Not at all, I cleared my whole week for you, per Toto's request. - you made a mental note to thank your wonderful partner for helping you so much. - From what I understood, you will need help with registering your company and you would also like to find our own lawyer, is that correct? - he was godsent. And someone definitely was watching over you, because considering how hectic everything was, it was impressive that - at least for now - everything went so smoothly.
- That's right. I will also need help with drafting t first few employee contracts. - you added, as you got up from the couch and started walking around the apartment to focus better on the conversation.
- That's understandable. I assume Ltd? - he inquired.
- Yes. How long does it usually take?
- I will send you a form to fill out and a list of documents you will need to provide. If you'll be able to send it back to me before noon, the company will be registered by the end of today. - his voice was confident.
- You're joking... - you couldn't believe it.
- I assure you, I am not. It usually takes 3 to 5 hours to fully register and process a new Ltd. - he replied, and you were stunned because suddenly everything started to feel a little bit too real. You took one deep breath to ground yourself and closed your eyes.
- Ok then. - you finally replied after a moment of silence.
- Would you mind if I asked you something?
- Ask away. - you chuckled and resumed your walk around the apartment, just as Toto was leaving the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hips, and you couldn't help but smile.
- Do you already have someone in mind for your permanent HR position? - you stopped again because you weren't expecting that question.
- I have someone looking into external companies to hire from. Why...?
- If you wouldn't mind some good old nepotism, I would like to send you a CV of my daughter. She specializes in employment law and just got her undergrad degree in business management. She has 2 years of experience in a similar position in a tech startup. I can also include her references. - he stopped for a moment, and you honestly needed a minute to process what you heard. - Just a CV. And if you'll like what you see, you could set up a proper interview. I'm not trying to force anything here. - you took a moment to think as you resumed your walk around the apartment at a little bit faster pace.
- Can you send me her CV now? - you requested, because honestly - you wanted to ride that wave of green lights and squeeze as much good luck from today as you could.
- I'm asking her to send it to your email right now. You should have it in a few minutes. - you could hear him smiling on the other side of the line.
- Ok, I will get back to her before 10:30. - everything was going so smoothly, that you were honestly starting to get suspicious, because life was never that easy, and some part of your mind was waiting for the other shoe to drop. After that, you quickly went through the possible private medical packages, sports cards, and the terms of employment you would like to offer your employees, which included a small budget every month for self-improvement, which could be spent either on learning new skills or improving your mental health by relaxing. You also went through the terms of NDAs, and something that popped into your head when Lynn asked you about the equipment - a payment plan to buy it out from the company by deducting it in installments from the pension. By the time you ended the call, it was almost 10, and Toto finished making simple 3 ingredient crepes, which were his specialty, but you weren't done just yet.
You opened an email from Mark's daughter that included a letter of recommendation as well as her CV, and you recognized one of the companies she was working in around 3 years ago because one of Sammy's sisters worked there. So, you quickly called your friend.
- Hey Brocksby... Can you send me Lizzie's number? I have a quick question.
- I mean... I could... but I'm at home and we're eating breakfast, so... you know... I can just pass the phone to her. - you laughed.
- Thanks, Love... You have my gratitude. – you waited a moment until you heard a familiar voice. - Hi Lizzie, sorry to bother you with such a random question so early, but by any chance, do you know Charlotte Zane?
- Hey Y/n! Not a problem at all... And of course, I know One-Fear-Charlie. - she laughed.
- One-Fear-Charlie? - you inquired with a slight smile.
- Well, yeah. Do you know that meme in a form of a comic panel? The one with a guy in a t-shirt that says, "No Fear" and then it changes to "One Fear"? - she asked, and this time you laughed.
- Yeah, I know it.
- So, she was that one fear. - Lizzie explained further
- Was she that bad? - you already started working on a gentle way to reject her CV, but your friend’s sister continued.
- Not bad, just... Strict, I guess? I mean - she knew how to have fun, but when it came to work - everything had to be absolutely perfect and every scenario had to be included in writing, so when you got an email from her - you knew that something was missing from your work, and you basically fucked up. She wasn't a bitch about it though, and she was really patient with new people, but you know...
- She was really good at finding imperfections? - you offered before she found the right words.
- Yeah.
- Did you like working with her? And her as a person overall? - you asked, slowly erasing that speech to gently turn Charlotte down.
- I mean - like I've said - she wasn't a bitch, and always gave you the opportunity to correct your mistakes before someone higher got a chance to see them. She was strict but definitely fair... And personally...? We weren't super close, but she seemed ok. She mostly hung out with paralegals, not us in the bottom of the barrel, but she was always kind to us on breaks and stuff. She had a really dry sense of humor though... You know, cheesy dad jokes and wordplay. - she offered.
- Thank you so much, Lizzie. And sorry again for bothering you. Say goodbye to your brother from me.
- No problem. And take care, Y/n! - you quickly hung up and sighed.
- Eat. You have 20 minutes to take a shower and eat something before we have to leave. - Toto quickly intercepted your phone before you got the chance to do anything else with it and pushed a plate with crepes with plum jam under your nose.
- I need to reply to an email... - you groaned, but despite your words, you started eating.
- Dictate then. Just don't choke... - he smiled, and you chuckled as he placed a small kiss on the top of your head.
- In reply to Charlotte Zane - Could we meet today at 2 PM in Saint Luke's Garden? - you swallowed a bite as Toto typed on your phone. - My signature... - another bite. - …and in PS "Not an official interview, just a walk, so dress in whatever you feel comfortable in. Preferably no business attire. - you continued with a piece of a crepe in your mouth. - Add a smiley face and hit send. - he did as you asked.
- You have a message from Mellie asking if she should include computers in the budget. - you nodded in reply, and Toto passed that in a message form. - And another one from Laura, telling you not to wash your hair or wear any make-up because everything will be done on set. - you were almost inhaling your breakfast, so instead of speaking you just showed him a thumb up, and she sent said emoji in reply. You looked at the clock, took the rest of the crepe in your hand, and almost ran to the bathroom because you had less than 15 minutes.
After the shower, you quickly chose fresh clothes, but before you got dressed, you quickly started applying lotion to your body.
- Hey, could you open the last email from Mark, and download the attachment? - you yelled loud enough for Toto to hear you in the kitchen, or wherever he was. Instead of yelling back, he came into the bedroom and leaned on the doorframe. He was watching you as you finished moisturizing your skin, and you gave him a small smile when you caught him. - The attachment. What information is needed? - you asked, while you put on your underwear, but he didn't reply immediately, instead letting his gaze linger. Only when you looked at him for the second time, he unlocked your phone and started reading the form. Fortunately, most of the information you could provide from memory, or you could find it on your phone, so at least you didn't have to dig through your apartment in search of any documents, and you could fill out that form in the car.
You were ready exactly four minutes before 10:30, but before you left the apartment in a hurry, Toto gently grabbed you by the arms and stopped you from moving anywhere for a moment, and your gaze almost instinctively found his eyes.
- Breathe. Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Close your eyes... And for one minute just... breathe. - he said. You wanted to protest, because you had to leave, but his grip on your arms told you that it would be futile, so you did as he asked. With every slow breath, your racing mind started to slowly calm down. All the things that you had to do today were still there, but they were slowly stopping to fight for the place in front of the line.
After the full minute, Toto released your arms, but instead of running out of the apartment, you wrapped your arms around him, rested your face against his chest, and stayed like that for one moment longer.
It was easy to get lost when the pace of the day was so rapid, but you were fortunate to have someone who understood that and was able to help you find yourself again.
- Thank you... - you mumbled against his shirt, and he just pressed a soft kiss to your temple in reply. It was his time to be your rock, just as you were his yesterday.
A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :)
Love,
G.
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/Evermore
Summary: How do you find your way to the light when you're under the rubble?
Genre Warnings: Mostly Angst, there is a smutty scene though SO 18+
Word Count: about 13k
ANGST warning: Fighting and Avenger work, and then verbal fights as well as, vague/brief mentions of Sexual Assault, Death, Suicide, and Self Harm
Smut Warnings: Mommy/Daddy kink, Puppy/Pup kink, strap on use (r and W receiving), strapwarming, a bit of humiliation, thigh riding, d/s power exchanges,
*as per usual lemme know if i missed anything important*
A/N: And this my loves, is the finale part of TGU S1 Finale. Hopefully it is everything that you guys wanted. Here's part one if you haven't read it! If there are any mistakes or anything, its cause i suck.
***Minors DNI** **Pay attention to the warnings tagged and only click the keep reading tab if you are okay with them and 18+*** ***18+ ONLY***
Training Grounds Master List
Dropping a stack of papers on the table, the man sighs as he rubs his hand over his face. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have on everyone’s day off but the longer they wait the more difficult the situation will be to defuse. “This is serious now Wanda, don’t you understand that yet?” Steve just wanted her to agree, nod her head and let them help her figure something out. He didn’t want the young girl to ever be put in a situation where she may end up a public enemy again.
Pouring a few fingers of whiskey, Tony’s nonchalant attitude would normally frustrate everyone but he is keeping the room calm at the moment. “It’s no longer a maybe, everyone can see the changes in you. It’s basically a flashing sign to the rest of the world that we’re losing control of a ticking time bomb.” His voice is already slurring a little, and you can tell that the surprise meeting took him by surprise but nothing would stop him from drinking in the moment. His family, the team, was falling apart in such a deep way and it was starting to affect him more than most understood.
“I have it under control, I told you that.” Wanda was glaring at the table, practically refusing to look at anyone. She hated being surprised like this, it felt more like an interrogation or intervention more than a team meeting.
“We can’t trust your judgment anymore, Maximoff.” Fury always has an air of authority to him, even to the witch who rarely interacted with him. She never liked him, for he had originally been part of the group that wanted to imprison her for her actions with Ultron. The man regardless demanded respect with each word he spoke, even gaining the brunette’s gaze. “Should have taken Hill’s word for it and kept you under lock and key from the moment we realized how dangerous you could end up.” The sarcastic jab was unprofessional, but he didn’t take it back instead staring directly at Wanda.
Glaring at the head of her girlfriend, the witch tries to prompt her into doing something. “Seriously Nat, you’re going to just sit back and let them speak to me and about me like this?” She knew that the two were having issues, but at the end of the day she knew she would never let someone else berate the ginger like this.
The widow shrugs, helplessly shaking her head as she finally looks up. “What do you want me to say? I told you that we couldn’t handle this alone, though personally I think this is out of their control at this point but at least we’re finally stepping out of trying to deal with it without help.” It’s almost a slap to the face, a decision that makes it seem almost helpless that the two have been together for almost a full decade at this point.
Tony sets his glass down, a clank sharp enough to pull everyone’s attention. “Earth can’t handle another eruption, and right now the cherry bomb over there is the biggest one on the radar. It isn’t about sides, we protect and right now I’m not any of us know where this is actually going to end up.”
“At this point I think you guys just want to lock me back up, throw away the key and leave me to rot. Would that make you guys feel better?” Wanda’s anger could be felt throughout the room, even though her entire body was calm and relaxed.
The widow in the room speaks slowly, under her breath, but in the dead silence no one could have missed it. “Might make the rest of the world feel better.” Even when she realizes that she said it out loud, you could tell there was no regret.
“Classy Romanoff, real classy.” Rolling his eyes, Tony downs the rest of his drink as he tries to keep calm. The entire domestic situation was getting out of control and he had a feeling that it would cause the future to be even more rocky if they stayed divided.
Finally moving to show her emotions, Wanda’s hand slams against the table. A loud resounding smack makes everyone flinch, sparks of scarlett magic flying into the air. “Your problems with me aren’t the boys’ business, so why do you constantly want to air it out in front of others?” The death glare shot towards Natasha would send anyone else to their knees, begging for forgiveness but not the widow.
The assassin was used to the witch’s outbursts, though they were more frequent when she was younger they haven’t changed one bit. Rolling her eyes at the tantrum that she knows is brewing, she just blankly stares back at Wanda. “When have you ever been against showing off to others? Don’t you love when others watch, you get off on it.”
Seething, the Sokovian bares her teeth at her girlfriend; furious that this entire thing is always being turned on her. “You’re the one that left our last conversation.”
A mocking laugh breaks up the heavy breathing, baited silence as everyone waits for them to finish. “I left? Me? Miss Houdini over here thinks that I left! That’s real entertainment.”
Wanda’s rings scrape against the table, a screech that has the men in the room grimacing, as she exhaustedly sighs. “Walking out after someone tells you what Bishop told us is not okay Natalia. No matter what your reaction is, that is not it.”
“Get over that night, everyone else did.” A note of silence plants a seed of doubt, watered quickly from the diverted gazes and quiet throat clearing. “Didn’t they?”
“You got over it. You put a fake bandaid over it. The gifts…I heard they were nice, and of course the suit we made turned out great but…even I know that gifts can only go so far.” Tony sort of shrugs, an attempt to not piss off the ginger.
A loud scoff interrupts him, the witch stranding quickly as her chair falls behind her. Pushing into the widow’s personal space, Wanda leans down into her face. Her hands land on the armrests, blocking her partner from being able to get up. “Get it through your thick skull Romanoff, the world doesn’t just fall to their knees because you decide that you are ready to move on.”
It’s silent for a long time, the two women glaring at one another with neither willing to budge. No one really wanted to interrupt, stupidly hoping that one of them would give up, be willing to nudge at at least a little. When the staring contest goes on for almost ten minutes, the other men all look to one person to try and break it apart. “Even though this fight is incredibly sexy, a real treat ladies. This isn’t what we came to talk about.” Even as Steve and Nick sigh, cringing when they realize how Tony decided to ease tension, everyone is relieved when the two women finally separate.
Straightening his posture, a very uncomfortable Steve clears his throat. “Yes, we need a game plan for whenever this…prophecy is fulfilled.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, her face slowly becoming stoic as her mask falls into place. Deliberately ignoring Natasha when a noise of concern falls from her pursed lips, the witch turns to to the captain swiftly. “Here’s the plan Star Spangled Banner, I go away. That’s all. You won’t have to worry about me when I am gone, and I don’t need anyone to even be concerned with me.”
Before anyone can even reply, or try to stop her, the brunette disappears only leaving behind a puff of crimson.
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A hand tugs you back, and you almost chastise the blonde but she’s shushing you and pointing to the four men walking the path below you two. Floating above a balcony, you lower the two of you to a ceiling beam to try and help conceal your position. It’s mostly dark, just a few dim lights flickering. Thankful for your new technology, and watching as Yelena slips on her green goggles, the two of you take your time to scan the area. You know that this entire situation is no longer an offensive, a recovery mission on one of the highest protocols as not only a huge group of civilians but two of the most prominent heroes are incapacitated.
Echoes of taunts and muffled whimpers reach the two of you, analyzing the possible route around becomes a breeze as you blink through the purple arrows showing you the best way. When the two of you hear an agonized scream it doesn’t take much more for you to drop down, ambushing the masked men below you. Working together you and the blonde almost move as if you are one, your connection truly shining through fighting for the first time. Even as you move farther into the building, separating as needed, it’s almost like you share the same brain.
With each move you decide to make, your confidence never wavers as the comforting vibration of crimson mist moves along your body. Besides trying it on during the holidays, you had never worn the suit and the way it works with you is mind blowing. Any time you came face to face with one of the masked men it was like the suit knew what to do, the perfect weapon materializing out of chaos into your hand.
Maroon blades and arrows glitching from their spots where they stick out of those you leave in your wake, anger from knowing they hurt people you loved making you not second guess your actions. Never running out of weapons coming in handy as the two of you work your way through the huge bank, before finally coming to a meeting point right in front of the main lobby. You take a moment to breathe as you sneak through the last hallway, assessing the situation, and realizing that Wanda made sure that no one could ever track you for everything you leave with them disappears.
Yelena finally settles next to you, working on a small phone as she works to hack into the building’s alarm and security system. “The witch did good on your suit.”
Nodding silently, you stand next to her with a shield of scarlet curving around the two of you as you focus on the small screen. “This is Katie’s code.” Your voice is hushed, though excited when you realize that you should be able to figure it out easily enough. “I recognize it from when I hang out at work with her. I think..if you switch the last two things and just rework that fourth line then it should work perfectly.”
The blonde rolls her eyes at you, doing what you suggest and chuckling as it works perfectly. She easily begins to work through the system, setting up different triggers. “You know, I am shocked that you remember anything from your time at her company as you drool so much over her.”
She interrupts you before you can chastise her, nodding as she slips the phone back into a pocket somewhere. Making note to giggle at her later, you let the mask show you where to go as the two of you scale the ceiling. The list of how many civilians to save growing with each second you crawl around, the center of the floor finally coming into view. You can see the faint purple electric forcefield first before the mess of people inside, the mask zooms in on the huddle for you.
Almost immediately you divert your eyes, unable to fully see two of your favorite people in such a position. Instead you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for a fight of your life. You could recognize how outnumbered you were, especially with so many of the men in the middle of the floor. They were all heavily armed, and you knew that the two of you were already exhausted after taking so many people down alone. Unsure of how good the group of men were at wielding their overpowered weapons made this mission a bit more difficult, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle or so you were telling yourself that.
Slowly your eyes slip shut, the blinking lights and distant screams overwhelming you. It wasn’t something you were used to, and you knew that it was something you would need to train to be better equipped to handle. You never thought when you got this suit a few months back for Christmas that it would be used this quick.
You knew you didn’t have time to be scared, not a single moment to work through the fear that was starting to completely take over your system. It was no longer an option, not that it was one in the first place, instead you had to dig deep. Finding that little girl in you that desperately just wanted to save people, the one that would have grown up to be an agent if not for that tragic night. Maybe you weren’t focused on saving every single person in the bank, and maybe that was incredibly selfish, but thinking about letting two of the most important people in your life slip between your fingers was all it took for you to step off the beam.
Eyes closing as you feel your body fly through the air, trusting the way the crimson mist moves along your skin and holds you so tenderly. You can hear shouts and screams, people rushing around below you, but even as things go soaring past you the suit almost makes you feel like time is slowed down. Giving you energy and focus, you can hear the way the witch would speak to you. Encouragement and love filling each thought, leaking into your body and filling you with a confidence that can only come from someone as powerful as her believing wholeheartedly in you.
Landing in the middle of the room should have scared you but truthfully you knew in the back of your mind, and at the center of your heart, that anything Wanda would ever give you would never allow you to be hurt. The mask covered your eyes, but it didn’t matter as your vision was just a huge screen of red and purple static, almost as if it was a glitching computer screen.
All your senses, all of your nerves, your entire being filled with a warm radiating chaos all flooding from the gleaming mark along your ribs. The fight was no longer just yours, but you knew that your favorite witch was there too. Standing tall in the middle of a shocked group of people, your vision cleared and your goal was in sight.
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You knew the moment that you came home that everything would explode. After pushing the suit to its limit, you had barely been able to teleport the four of you to the penthouse before passing out. Happy that you were able to at the very least keep everyone safe, your body just wasn’t used to that amount of magic surging through your veins.
Yelena had called upon her own people, a favor to get all of you back to Avengers campus. The two young heroes were immediately taken to medical, and you were brought to Kate’s room to rest. The doctors cleared you quickly, stating you just were exhausted and needed a good nap. Enlisting your best friend to make sure that for the next day or so, you would stay hydrated and fed; true rest.
She as per usual took her orders seriously and monitored you closely as you slept, dreading the next unspoken part of her job; calling your two rage filled owners. The younger sister knew that she was practically dousing the flames with gasoline the longer that she procrastinated calling them, but even she was scared of them sometimes.
By the time that they were called, you were happily walking around and feeling completely better but you knew that it was only a matter of time before the two showed up. Unsure of exactly how they would react, you decided to just try to prep for anything. Anger and intense fear was for sure, but you knew that even though the rules weren’t explicitly written out that you broke many. The suit wasn’t made for you to become a hero, or an agent.
While you and Yelena were playing a casual round of Town of Salem, the door slammed open. Crimson magic practically crushing the metal, looming silhouettes of the two women scary even from a distance.
It was the angry voice of the widow that breaks the volatile silence. “What do you mean you took her out on a mission?” It’s demeaning and directed at her younger sister, lunging towards her before stopping herself short.
Wanda takes her time to walk towards you, her face void of any emotion as she scans your body. She takes her time to formulate a sentence, letting the two siblings squabble behind her as she takes the blonde’s spot next to you. Finally reaching out, she tangles her fingers with yours and the anger fueled fear shines through her emerald eyes. “That was for extreme emergencies only Detka, not for you to go out and find trouble!”
You sigh, knowing that you were going to have to defend why you went with the white widow. “This was an emergency and look at me, I’m completely fine!” Gesturing to your body, you try to point out that you only have just a few small cuts and bruises. The suit that the witch had made you was extremely effective at protecting you from any harm.
Natasha’s head pops up, quickly scanning your body. Even though she can easily determine that you aren’t hurt, she still angrily flails her hand in your direction. “Yeah, you are but you could have not been. You should have never gone to get her Yelena, ever.” Shoving her sister to the ground, she looms over her and snarls whenever she tries to get up.
Flopping dramatically back, rolling her eyes up at her older sister Yelena sighs. “Oh cool, am glad you seem so worried about my heath and safe being.”
Kicking her side, huffing as Natasha watches the blonde roll uselessly around on the ground. “You are trained for this, you are THE white widow.” The ginger glares down at the girl when she laughs.
“Kate Bishop is Hawkeye and Peter Parker is Spiderman. All trained and made for this job as well, and you see that they needed help.” The younger widow’s wiseacre tone just further pisses off her sister, but she can’t help but push her buttons. She knows you’re safe, that everyone is safe, and that’s all that matters.
Nodding along, you perk up at your best friend standing up for you. “Don’t forget that in all technicality I have been trained to do this! Do you forget who I was raised by?” Cringing internally at the fact you brought up your lineage, the field that you were destined to be part of.
Wanda sighs, knowing that you weren’t going to budge with Natasha’s angry outbursts. Cupping your chin, she gently turns your face to her. The soft emotional storm shaking the forest in her eyes makes you whimper, a small noise that falls from your lips involuntarily. “You may have been raised by them little one, but we all know you didn’t care for or want the lifestyle.” Even though she sounds much more gentle and loving, it still pisses you off.
“That isn’t fair! I may not like the lifestyle but we all know I am damn good at it. It’s in my blood. S.H.I.E.L.D has been begging me to join the rankings since I could basically walk.” Natasha opens her mouth to interrupt you but you barrel on, despite cringing at the thought of being disrespectful. “I was born to do this and while I may not enjoy it, or have the will to do it daily, if it means saving or aiding any of you then you damn well know that I am going to don the suit and do whatever I need to.”
Yelena is pushing her sister’s foot off of her, sitting up excitedly. “You should have seen her out there, you two need to set your fear aside and know that your little princess is amazing in the field. She knows what to do and honestly if she ever did want to join the agency, I would jump at having her as a partner.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach down to shove the blonde. Knowing she’s just trying to take the heat off of you, a sigh leaves your lips because you can’t truly be angry at her. No regrets from going to save the two Younger Avenger captains, and nothing could change that; not even the two older women glaring down at you. If you ever did step foot in the field, you know that you would be more than thrilled to be partners with your best friend.
Natasha shoves her way in between the two of you, stubborn as usual. The widow refused to budge on her way of speaking about the situation, anger completely over taking her entire mind. “I don’t care how amazing she was, and I know she was amazing. Personally I never wanted that suit to be anything but a defensive thing. It was never meant to go out into the field, nor was it ever meant for you to go wild and perform a retrieval mission.”
You almost choke as you prepare yourself to do what you know needs to be done. Knowing that if anyone else says anything that neither of the older women would settle, the responsibility falls to you. Having spent the last almost five years obeying them almost completely you knew that this act would feel weird, never one to push back in this way. “Kate needed me. Peter needed me. They needed saving and obviously no one else was going to go, for whatever reason it fell to me and Yelena. We stepped up and saved them, and that’s all that should matter. No one else was harmed and we walked away safe. I have no plans to make a habit out of this before you ask. This isn’t something that I want to do a lot. Just drop this argument because at this point, I think we all need to realize that our emotions and feelings are being entirely redirected. I don’t know or understand what is happening, and it is frustrating as hell but I need everyone to figure themselves out.”
Yelena’s eyes widen, never once hearing you stand up to the older women. A small smirk pulls at her lips as she watches her sister and the all knowing witch stumble back, jaws slack as they stare at you. She felt relief, hoping that this would be the beginning of the end of this entire situation. The blonde desperately wanted everything to progress and settle down, the tension was too much for her to deal with.
“I’m going to go be with them while they wake up. I’m sorry for yelling and interrupting but I just need you guys to understand where I stand. This entire thing, whatever it is, is affecting us too. I’m not sure exactly what is going on with you two, but I’m not stupid. I will see you guys later.” You have to force yourself to immediately stand, storming out of the room before you looked into their eyes.
The white widow watches as you walk out of the room, chuckling silently before turning to see the other two struggling to mask their emotions. Wanda seemed to just be angry, eyes wet as she breathed deeply. Flickers of crimson could be seen sparking in the forest of her eyes, her nose twitching as she struggles to control herself. Natasha on the other hand almost drains of all humanity, her face pale and her eyes dim. It’s almost like the words and the venomous tone strikes her directly in the heart and she was losing all ability to live. The youngest wants to say something but she isn’t sure it would help, so instead she just shrugs sympathetically and follows you.
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The gentle beeping is soothing as you stare out the window. Having spent the past few days in this room, you had your favorite spot and you knew the best times to see the best views.
“You don’t have to hang out with me every day, you know.” Kate’s sleep filled voice catches your attention immediately. She’s pushing herself to sit up, rubbing at her eyes. She looks so young in the hospital gown, and it makes you aggressively protective over her.
Sitting in the spot where she’s patting at, you take her hand when she reaches out for you. Kissing her cheek softly, you make sure to not move too quickly as you watch her reactions carefully. “Silly girl, I’ll always be at your side.”
Her head falls back, an exasperated huff leaving her lips as she stares up at the ceiling. Flopping her arm, IV rattling about awkwardly, as she grunts annoyed. “I’m just here for one more day. Stark feels horrible and I think he’s just overeating at this point. Having the nurses keep us in this prison longer than necessary.”
“I agree with him, I think you should stay here until your body is allll better.” You lean in giving her a gentle kiss on different parts of her face, scratches and stitches.
Kate hums, a content sound as she lets her eyes slip closed. Basking in the love you give her, she tries her hardest to ignore the faces that she sees with her eyes shut.
Reaching up, you cup her face and use your thumbs to smooth the worry between her eyebrows. “I’m here Kate, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” It didn’t take much more for the archer to break down, shoving her face into your palm as sobs shake her body.
The two of you sit, curled up together now, unsure of how long the brunette cries into your neck. A sound that breaks your heart, but it needs to happen.
Her voice is broken, scratching at her throat as she forces herself to speak the thoughts screaming inside of her brain. “I froze, in the moment that I needed to be the most brave I froze. Peter was behind me, screaming as his body shut down and I froze mid air. What kind of hero am I if I can’t even save my best friend?”
“It’s not good, you’re right, but do you really think that he’s going to blame you? It didn’t get close enough but I don’t think you would have let him die.” The girl always begged you to rationalize the thoughts in her head, to help her see the real side of things when she no longer could but it hurt every single time to do it. “Things happen, my love, it doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad hero.”
“You say that because you have faith in me, but seeing their faces again and hearing them talk to me like that…It..I felt like a little girl again. I didn’t feel like this trained archer or skilled fighter. I felt like I did whenever they walked into my bedroom.” She’s shoving at you, hands coming up to grip her head and shoving her the heels of her hands into her eyes. It’s almost like she is trying to shove the images out of her mind, but no matter how hard she pushes it never works.
“Kate—“ You can’t even get a full sentence out, barely even her name, before she’s cutting you off.
Her eyes are wide, red rimmed and filled with hot angry tears that almost seem painful to stop. “I couldn’t even stop them! I couldn’t even raise a hand to them or beg for them to stop. It almost felt… like a relief. Normalcy almost leaking into my body and I hate myself for it. I don’t even think I cared that it happened again. All the shit I talked about how I was so angry about it, and that I would hit them even kill them now. What good did it do if I just let it happen? I..just let it happen.” Kate deflates in on herself, almost like someone poked a hole and her rage leaked out of her. Staring blankly at the wall, zoning out, the girl just sits there.
You gulp down your own emotions, a strong urge to puke or burn the entire world down. It isn’t what needs to happen and you know that you need to tread lightly, letting the archer talk as she needs.
She doesn’t say anything, and when you open your mouth to try and fill the air nothing comes out. Instead you sit there, both of you, the sound of beeping the only thing that could be heard. It wasn’t awkward, or tense, but it made you want to cry either way. Her heavy head falling onto your shoulder, comforts the both of you, as thoughts fill the air.
“I want to forget it or at least act like it didn’t happen.” Her voice is small, hesitant and a little strained as she tries to understand her own emotions.
You immediately want to shut it down, knowing that she’s just going to internalize this again and it will ruin her mind. Trying to be gentle about your worries, you rub your thumb over her covered arm and try to look into her eyes. “Kate..is that really the best thing?”
She refuses to meet your gaze, shrugging a bit helplessly. “No. I know it isn’t but that’s the issue. It’s not the best thing, but it’s the thing that will get me to survive this. I don’t want to break right now. I don’t ever want to break but I think my mind needs a minute to deal with everything by itself. I need a minute to not let this ruin everything. The world is bigger than those two, especially now.”
Your heart stutters, dropping into your stomach. Nothing you did that day you regret, and you’re actually deep down proud of what you did to them, but taking lives isn’t something you ever thought you would have done. You did what you needed to, and you know that if you hadn’t that Peter would be dead right now. You aren’t sure what all would have happened to your girlfriend, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Nodding, you leave a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Her ocean eyes, filled with violent whirlpools and crashing waves, finally meet yours. “Please, just do this for me. Just for now. I’ll think about it, work on it, when everything feels less crumbly.”
Finally you force a smile, cringing internally when she gives you a look. “Okay. I promise. Once everything else feels less crumbly, then we will work on this. We will work at your pace and I will make sure that everyone else does, as long as you can promise the same for me.”
You see her go to argue that, but immediately snaps her jaw closed. Kate sighs and just nods her head slowly, “Fine we both agree.” A beat of silence before she’s pushing herself up. “Can..we talk about the other thing, so that we can think of something else. Something that maybe we can fix.” After you give her a look to continue she shakes her body as she tries to get her thoughts into order.
The archer is glaring at the white blankets, rolling the scratchy plastic band around her wrist. “First…I don’t want to tell them what happened exactly. Natasha already reacted badly to the first time, I don’t want to cause anything else to happen like that. I don’t want to break the dynamic any more.”
“Baby, I don’t think that is on you or your story. I think something else is going on, with both of them.” She gives you a curious look, but it just leaves you shrugging. “Honestly, I’m not sure. They haven’t told me anything either and it’s getting really frustrating.”
“So, how do we fix it?” Kate’s voice is small and it makes you practically growl, annoyance and anger building in your body.
“I’ll deal with it. I think I know how to get them to break.” She looks at you, wanting to complain that she doesn’t want you to do it alone but the look of determination on your face is a sign that you weren’t going to back down.
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“We can’t keep fighting.” The two were sitting across from each other, staring one another down as they met up to try and figure out how to fix the situation that they found themselves in. Natasha was unable to mask her anxiety, almost immediately trying to talk her partner out of fighting.
A sharp nod, and a slightly sarcastic eye roll, confirms Wanda’s agreement. “Finally something we agree on.”
The ginger is so frantic that she doesn’t even call the younger girl out on her attitude. “I’ve never seen her like that. Ever. Not even when we were leaving.”
“Can we stop talking around what we need to do, please Natialia. It’s exhausting and at this point we’re both on the verge of losing everything. It’s been days, we can’t keep pushing everything off. Not everything is going to wait until you’re ready.” The Sokovian pinches her nose, trying to fight off the pending headache as she thinks about the next fight that she would endure.
Sneering, Nat barely jabs back before deciding that it isn’t worth it right now to continue. “Sorry, your majesty. What exactly is it that you think we need to do? At this point I think we’ve gone past casually talking about it, haven’t we?”
It’s almost like Wanda gives up, hands flopping uselessly to her sides as she just pleadingly looks at the other woman. “Why are you so angry? What about this entire thing is making you angry? Hmm? I just wanted you to let Kate in, that’s it. She opened up to us for the first time and you shut down. I understand you were scared of your reaction but Nat… you just have to deal with that.”
“I’m angry at those guys. I’m angry at the fact that for four years that giggly silly girl was crushed every single day, her innocence and happiness ripped away from her like it was nothing. I’m angry because..I broke my own rules and now I have to deal with the aftermath.” The widow is gaping at Wanda as if she’s surprised she isn’t reacting this way. She doesn’t really understand how someone can act so calmly when it comes to the situation.
The brunette pushes the subject just a bit more, nervous that the more she broaches the topic the faster the other one will shut down. “You don’t know it’ll turn out badly. Why are you thinking negatively? It’s just causing more issues.”
“Are you not? If you didn’t have a bad feeling about everything, then why are you still hiding? When are you going to tell your precious detka how you truly feel?” Natasha laughs, a mocking sassy sound as she lets her eyes slip closed. She knew that Wanda was terrified but she was tired of being told that she was the only one scared of the outcome.
“What does that mean?” Your quiet voice breaks the quiet sounds of the ginger’s laugh dying out, and it causes the two to spin around to look at you with doe eyed looks.
“Oh, Makyshka. When did you get here?” The two share a panicked look, a dash of shame and guilt.
Rubbing at your arms, you try to recoil into yourself as you realize that you were being impolite by listening to a conversation that you know was not meant for you. “I heard Daddy yelling, I’m sorry for eavesdropping but I just.. Please tell me what’s going on.”
“Девочка, please..” Natasha tries to plead with you, but you’re past listening and being a quiet thing.
You know she’s shocked when you interrupt her, but you have to keep your confidence and push on. “No, you guys always say that you’ll tell me when you’re ready but I’m ready. Doesn’t that matter? It’s been months like this. Months of tense situations that I don’t know how to defuse.” You know that you’re being unfair as you stare at them with your best pleading eyes, your body almost bending in on itself as you can feel the urge to kneel for them; your posture training pushing you into the best place to beg for something.
Wanda speaks up, trying to ease your tension and your anxiety. She knew that it was getting frustrating, and that with everything going on you have been getting more impatient than ever. “Of course it matters Little One, we’re just trying to figure out our thoughts and feelings. We just want to be able to come to you when it’s all figured out.”
“No. Okay. No. Delta, Red.” The two words feel foreign falling from your lips, something that you never took lightly. You knew that the two of them hadn’t heard you hard safe word in years, the three of you truly melding together so well that slowing down and having amazing aftercare helped any situation that any of you felt unsure about.
The two freeze, the words sinking in as they stare at you. You haven’t used your safe word recently, especially not in a situation like this. This isn’t the normal break in conversation, but instead it’s tense and it’s almost like you paused a movie right at the climax.
You’re shaking your head, jaw tense as you try to gather your emotions. This isn’t something you think you should go into irrationally, but it’s hard to keep control of everything when you don’t even know what you’re trying to control. “I can’t keep doing this on your schedule. Okay? This isn’t something that can just take a year or more. It’s tearing us apart and I can’t be the one that saves us, so talk. Talk or I’m walking out of here because I can’t handle this, and for once it’s going to be me who needs that break.”
The silence screams out between the three of them, and you can feel your heart start racing. You never actually wanted to walk out, never wanted to take a break but you would if you had to. The stress of this situation, becoming the keeper of the dynamic, was all too much for you and you needed a solution. Leaving wasn’t your first choice but it was an option, and you would take it if you had to.
It’s Natasha who speaks up, finally breaking the silence after what seems like an hour. You can tell she’s hesitant, and trying to prompt the witch into saying something but you no longer cared to be patient. “It’s complicated, detka, and we don’t want to say anything that we would regret. The situation can be really sensitive if we do things too early, or put things into existence that maybe we don’t actually feel. We just want to understand the things going on in our head before we start putting id–”
“I love you Мой красивый ангел.”
You freeze, watching the ginger’s eyes widen before both of you slowly turn to Wanda. The witch is staring determinedly at the floor, tugging at a stray string on the blanket. Her emerald eyes are distant, almost foggy as she avoids the two of you. It’s the first time that you’ve seen her like this, even the day that she left for her mission she wasn’t this nervous. It was more sad, and maybe a little panic the night before but nothing like this.
Natasha gulps and for the first time in years the older widow sees the eighteen year old that sat in the back of the quinjet after the fight in Sokovia. The widow remembers it distinctly, watching the young girl protectively sit next to her brother’s body the entire flight to America. Steve had wanted to at the very least put him below deck so that she didn’t have to stare at him, unconcerned about anyone but Wanda’s feelings, but the young girl had growled out a sob every time anyone else even got close to him.
It had been years since the witch showed such vulnerability, the mask she came to love left her stoic and in charge. She had felt lost and completely spiraling after her brother’s passing, and she had vowed to never be that again. While it was a fight for a bit, Wanda had quickly mastered that and no one ever saw her truly and transparently real.
“I..I know you do..you always tell me th–” You were cut up, but it was probably for the better. The ability to form sentences was hard as your brain began to short circuit, really not understanding what was going on.
Wanda sighs, fingers wiggling before she forms a fist. She’s trying to dig her nails into her palm, to calm herself as she prepares for rejection. “No, I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a really long time now and just ignored it because that’s not what you needed from me. It isn’t even what you need from me now, but after a year away from you my ability to hide it got worse. I know that you are with Kate, and I know that you two are dating but I just don’t think I can hide it effectively from you anymore. I don’t want this to change anything but if you’re not comfortable with this anymore then we can deal with that, find a solution even if that means me leaving.”
Nodding, you take your time to absorb the information you just learned. It wasn’t something that necessarily surprised you. You had always dreamed of this day, a thing that you always thought was just slightly out of reach. The idea of someone like Wanda being in love with you was insane to you, this all powerful witch wanting to love a struggling college student. Unsure of what to say, you decide against saying anything. Instead you walk over to her on shaky legs, vision blurry and reach out to her. Taking her hand you lay it against your ribcage, the mark blazing beneath her touch. Uncertain forest eyes raise to meet yours, and your heart cracks a bit at the tears building. The bright red rim almost like a dam wall, refusing to break and let the flood of tears flow.
What you don’t see is Natasha, awkward at her core, looking away so she doesn’t intrude. She lets her gaze settle on a few bunnies outside, playing before a flash of dark purple catches in her peripheral vision. There in the doorway stands a frozen, wide eyed Kate in a baggy sweat suit and bandages all over. A small twitch of the widow’s finger and the archer is silently crossing the room, just barely interrupting the scene in front of her before settling next to the ginger.
It takes a moment, even after the archer enters the room, for the two of you to finally break apart. Your eyes immediately search for the only deep water that you find solace in, a fleeting moment between you all you need to comfortably dig yourself into Wanda’s side. Stretching out to get comfy, your feet end up in Kate’s lap and it almost feels like once again you are the bridge but it doesn’t feel horrible for the moment.
The four of you sit in silence, all of you thinking and looking around avoiding gazes. It’s a beautiful day, a light snow is coming down even though it’s well into spring at this point. Irony in the weather matches the feeling inside the room.
Kate is squirming as she finally breaks the silence, awkwardly spilling out her words quickly. “I’m sorry that I had to be saved last week. I shouldn’t have frozen like that. I could have taken them both out without any help, and I shouldn’t have gotten so cocky and vengeful.”
The archer’s apology hangs in the air for a moment, an unspoken conversation happening between the older women before Wanda steps up and tries to calm the younger Avenger’s fears. “Malý kríženec, that wasn’t your fault. We’ve all had moments like that. I know it isn’t something that you want to hear, but as heroes we are in theory going to lose many more times than others. It’s about how we get back up and put ourselves back into the game.”
Stubborn as usual, you watch your girlfriend shake her head aggressively. Refusing to believe it wasn’t her fault, she tries to argue the perfectly logical answer. “I caused issues and I know that, especially when I called Yelena. I don’t even know why I called her and I definitely didn’t know that she was going to go get back up, but it wasn’t my intention. I just panicked and I didn’t want to bother anyone, and she had told me she wasn’t doing anything. I think I just barely mumbled her name and the suit just took it upon itself to call her. I didn’t want her to bring anyone else, I promise.”
You have to finally sit up a little, interrupting her anxiety filled ramble. “Once again, I can handle myself. I think I did just fine.” You know they mean the best, but you need them to realize that you can fight and do what is needed when you are called upon.
Feeling Wanda physically sigh, before she’s tilting your head up to look at her. She has a forced smile on her face and you know that she’s trying to reign in her own emotions. “You did, but you’re our precious little thing and while we know you can tough it out with the best of us…we don’t want you to have to. “ The witch slowly moves your head to nod, a knowing look as she watches puff out your cheeks defiantly.
The clock ticking, as the four of you go quiet grates your nerves but you know that there is something else going on. You aren’t sure what but you know that the tension between Wanda and Natasha still isn’t gone.
“Can I ask…what I interrupted?” Your girlfriend’s voice is small, wary of overstepping.
You look at Wanda, letting her decide when she would tell Kate. She’s not even looking at you though, glaring at a light’s reflection on the ground. It’s almost like you can see each brick of the wall the brunette is building, a protective barrier as she attempts to guard herself from the inevitable.
It’s Natasha clearing her throat that makes the witch’s head snap up, glaring at the redhead. The assassin raises her eyebrow, a challenge between the two. You are looking out the window naively at the point, having grown bored of the silence.
“This isn’t something that I want to cause any changes between us, and at the end of the day nothing has to happen.” Everyone’s eyes shift to look at the witch, but hers are shut as she keeps her head down. “I know that technically we opened our dynamic to you, not the other way around, and that it doesn’t mean you are open to anything else. I just…”
You can almost see the chaos sparking off of her as she starts panicking, and you can see Kate sit up straighter. It’s the first time in a very long time that she’s starting to lose control, and you know that you have to do something, to settle the emotions within her. It’s simple, your hand on hers, but effective as her muscles start to relax. Everyone else in the room almost breathes a sigh of relief but not you, breath stuck in your throat as you wait for the witch to say what she needed to in front of the archer.
It takes a few minutes for her to start speaking again, but when she does it’s rushed and the accent that she works so hard to conceal comes back in full force. “I love hračka. It isn’t the normal love that I think everyone always thought I had for them, but I’m in love with them. I know your relationship isn’t technically open, and I’m sorry that this is a thing that is even happening. I know that I broke multiple boundaries and at this point it is completely up to you two what you want.”
Finally Wanda looks up, eye flickering between the two of you but ultimately lands on Kate. The archer almost zones out, a blank look on her face before she starts laughing. It’s light and it makes you roll your eyes, the girl can only stay serious for so long. “Wanda, I know.”
The look of bewilderment on the witch’s face makes the rest of you break out in laughter as well, she’s stuttering and just speechless. “Look, you can’t look at someone like you look at them and not be in love with them.” Kate finally stops laughing, a soft smile on her face as she reaches out to poke playfully at the witch. “I for a long time would watch the way you talk to her, and look at her and think you were absolutely nuts for not falling in love. I thought it was absolutely insane that you hadn’t tried to become something more because I could tell almost from the beginning that you felt more than just ownership over them. When you look at them, I see what I feel and I knew that that could be dangerous. I knew that maybe when you figured out your feelings that it could mean the downfall of our relationship, but I don’t think that it has to.”
The two of them stare at each as the younger brunette’s voice dies out. You aren’t sure what the two are waiting for, and for once you aren’t sure how to help. Thankfully Wanda breaks the silence quickly, a soft smile on her face as she reaches out to cup the archer’s cheek.
Her thumb is rubbing along the blush that has made its way to her cheeks, “I want you to take some time kríženec. Now that I’ve said it, mull over it. Think about it, both of you. Talk about it, and see where you both would be comfortable. We’ll go from there okay?” She waits for both of you to nod before she settles back into her seat again.
Blinking and watching as Kate giggles to herself a little, you finally bring up the next topic. “Is…that all you guys wanted to talk about?” You can’t help the apprehension in your voice, noticing how tense Nat is in the corner.
A pointed cough shakes you as Wanda glares at the ginger, who just sighs and deverts her eyes. “Kate, I want to talk about everything.”
“...Everything?” The young brunette has wide eyes, her mouth slightly hanging open as she just stares at the older woman.
Natasha nods slowly, trying to roll her shoulders and prepare herself for everything that she needs to say. “I’ve been..dancing around this for months and I know that it’s caused a lot of issues but I want to say that it had nothing to do with you.”
Wanda can’t help the scoff that leaves her mouth, a fleeting interruption. “Okay.”
Deciding to ignore the jab, the widow carries on. “I get it, that’s something a lot of people say and don’t mean but I mean it. I’ve been struggling a lot with my own emotions far before you were brave enough and strong enough to open up to Wanda and myself. I took that frustration out on you and that wasn’t fair. Seeing a weakness I thought that it was an easy way out, and honestly it might be one of the worst things I’ve ever done in my life.”
You can already see the tears building up in the ocean eyes from where you are curled up, muscles tensing as you prepare yourself to comfort her.
“I was mad. Mad that someone could get away with that with no real punishment. I was mad that someone touched you like that and I couldn’t do anything about it. I even tried but I knew that it wasn’t something I had the right to do without you telling me that you wanted me to, so I stopped. I just think I was so focused on the anger side that I forgot that there were other things that mattered.” Her hand halfway raises, almost reaching out to touch the archer before it falls back into her lap. “I let the easiest of emotions run rampant and then I tried to fix it with ridiculous Christmas gifts. That honestly was one of the worst things I’ve done, treating you like a little kid who doesn’t understand what I was doing or someone that could be swayed with shiny new things. I know you’re more than that. You mean more than that to me.”
Kate’s breath hitches, warmth running through her as the person that she’s been the most afraid of for the past few months finally comes to light. She had begun to truly believe that she had messed everything up, and made the ginger disgusted with her.
“I just want to apologize. I’m sorry. I know that those words mean nothing at the end of the day, but I will work on it. I will do whatever it takes for you to build that trust and belief in me again.”
It almost feels weird as you watch the two talk this way. While they were always together for training, both in the dynamic and for the Avengers, this was different. Emotions were always a different type of feeling when scenes and headspaces were talked about, or even when you were just spending time getting to know each other. The way they were right now felt intense, but almost like it was missing something.
The ginger is quick to clarify everything, her words are rushed and you’re surprised that she hasn’t switched languages yet. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, but I will work for it. I will show you everything I have, and everything I bring for you, only then will I accept you saying that I deserve for you to accept my apology.”
Kate is opening and closing her mouth, a slow but steady stream of tears running down her face. She’s laughing at herself, rolling her eyes at her inability to speak. You can see her frustration and anger at herself, the girl never liking when her emotions controlled her entire body. She hated losing control, a thing that only happened in a safe space.
“You don’t have to talk, дворняга.” Wanda’s voice makes the archer’s head snap over to her. “If you aren’t ready to talk yet, that’s okay. It’s all about your own timing.” The older brunette’s words calm your girlfriend down almost immediately, and you can see her start to relax in her spot.
Natasha’s head is nodding furiously, agreeing with the witch. “Yes, please take your time. I took mine and I shouldn’t have. You more than deserve to take as much time as you need to figure out everything, and even more to decide if you want to forgive me.”
The CEO slowly nods her head, pulling her legs up onto her seat so that she can comfortably sit. Her silence effectively ends the conversation, and slowly over the next few hours the four of you go your separate ways. It’s soft and has the illusion of normal, as you kiss each other goodbye mumbling out what time you would be home and where you were going. Responsibilities never end, even as your world was working to build itself back up, and that was something that may have just actually saved the four of you more than you would realize.
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Wanda pulls away, a concerned look on her face but Kate just shakes her head and pulls her back. There’s no pleading, and no power, just a kiss to confirm that the younger girl wants this. It’s been a little bit since the four of you were together as a full group, and you knew that the archer had been working back up to this. Personally you thought it was too soon, the same concern echoed the first time she had begged you to touch her just days after everything, barely three months after everything but she just wanted to feel something else. You couldn’t fight her, wanting her to have anything that would help her feel comfortable and safe; anything to quiet the screaming voices in her head.
Sitting between Natasha’s legs as you watch, your body leaning fully on hers as her mouth works against your neck. You are more worried about Kate though, eyes glued to her form watching for any sign of discomfort. “Toy, she came to us. If she wants this, and she did pass all three of our tests then maybe it’s time to let her do what she wants? The doctors medically cleared her.” The ginger’s voice is soft, spoken against the back of your neck.
You want to agree, want to let your mind go blank and listen to her as you always do but you can’t. Unknown knowledge lingers in your mind and it skews your opinion drastically, but you nod anyway.
The archer is kneeling, a thing that takes you by surprise for a moment, but a soft smile pulls at your lips when you see Wanda slip to her knees in front of her. You can’t quite hear what she says as she leans her forehead against the younger girl’s, waiting until she physically nods to let her magic wrap around her throat. A bright scarlet collar appearing as the mist fades out, a gold accented leash dangling from the D-Ring.
Sharp nails scratching down your torso pull your attention back to the ginger, a faint stinging pain on your neck where you know her bite mark is prominent. “You ready to play девочка?” Her question is rhetorical at this point as the chaos that your crave engulfs your body and lifts you into the air, it’s moving you around and stripping you. A sense of roughness even in the gentle nature of the day, it’s nice and it’s exactly what you needed to start feeling the fog fill your brain.
When your knees hit the wooden floor, slight sting makes you flinch, fingers almost immediately tangle in your hair. Pushing you downwards, your face coming to rest against the legs and your ass in the air. Wriggling excitedly, you can’t help but realize what’s happening. It’s a moment that you wished would come, and even with your reservations, this was the best of every scenario you could have thought of. You wait, with bated breath, for permission and when the fingers leave your hair with a sharp snap you rush forward.
Lips immediately trailing along the legs, forehead affectionately rubbing when you need to breathe. You can hear movement around you, two people prepping and finding different things but all you cared about is how Kate’s quiet whimpers when you kiss along her thighs. Worshiping your girlfriend was always something you wanted to do, spend time just kissing and loving all over her, but even the most cocky of archers struggle with such attention.
Hands on your hips make you jump, whining as they pull you back a little. You try to push your face forward, get your lips back onto smooth porcelain skin but you’re just out of reach. Natasha shushes you, pulling your body to mold against her. “I know you want to love your little mutt, but you have to pay attention to the rest of us, dove.”
Grinding back, you happily feel the bulge that you’ve been craving. A tap on your forehead makes you look up, permission to raise your gaze to see Wanda makes your breath catch in your throat. For the first time in five years you see scarlet instead of emerald and it sinks deeply into your soul, a look that you’ll lust after for the rest of your life. “Don’t you want to please Mommy, Little One?” Her voice is so sweet, dripping with honey as the magic swirls around the shining rings on her fingers. It’s mystical and you can’t look away, shaking your head slowly almost as if you were in a daze.
You can see her sadistic smirk, something that only shows up when she gets exactly what she wants from the trap she plants. Her thumb rubs along your bottom lip, watching as your eyes fog over and unfocus. Just as it did from the very beginning her voice, that name, is all it takes for you to slip under the warm mist in your brain; submerging comfortably knowing that everything will be alright.
Even as your head slips, emptying quickly under the ministrations of the witch, you hand flails at your side searching. When your fingers hit soft skin, digging into the flexing abs, you begin to calm down knowing that your girlfriend is at your side. Sucking on the thumb pushing past your lips, settles your brain even more and you know the worry that you had is disappearing as well.
The thing about soft moments like this is that you never really know how to react. Soft sex was common between you and Kate, the latter loving spending time spoiling you and just making sure you knew how much you were cherished. Natasha would sometimes be more gentle with you, but even then she was usually still throwing you around a good bit. Sweet times with Wanda were far and few in between, especially during sex. The witch preferred to take what she wanted, and give regardless of what you wanted. You knew that anytime things got too soft that the Sokovian would take a step back, usually to guide and watch instead but you weren’t sure if you wanted that today.
You’re being pulled backwards, the burn as your skin is dragged against the waxed wood pulls a pathetic whimper from your throat but no one seems to care. Natasha's arms wrap around you and you’re suddenly up right. Your back against your front, her strap lazily thrusting between your thighs is a tease. Even as the whine tears through your gritted teeth, your blurry vision on your girlfriend. She has Wanda pinned against the wall, the two making out and for the first time it’s almost as though there is no real power difference.
The two of them are desperately groping at once another, hands trailing along each other’s bodies as Kate’s mouth moves down the witch’s neck. You want to go and touch them, but the ginger’s grip on you keeps you in your spot. “Nuh uh pretty toy, you’re going to stay right here. Cockwarming me and watching your precious puppy fuck your mommy. Is that what you want to see?”
The way “Puppy” falls from the assassin’s lips makes you whine loudly, the effect immediately as you feel yourself clenching around nothing. The arousal spreads across your body like a wildfire, a burn so quick that it almost is too much. You weren’t quite aware of how wet you were before, more focused on trying to keep the peace and serenity but you were no match for any of your owners. Squirming in Natasha’s hold, you aren’t even sure what you are searching for right now.
Shushing you, the older woman pulls you back to fall into her lap, letting you mindlessly grind on her strap as she watches the other two. “Whenever you’re ready detka, you have all the power right now. Your Mommy is waiting for you to be filled until she tells the mutt to fuck her.” Her voice is soft, almost mumbled against your throat as she marks you even more.
Your eyes are glued to the way Kate’s hand moves between the witch’s thigh, her teeth sinking into her collarbone over and over again. Even if it looks like the archer is in control you can see the way Wanda moves with her, directing her where she wants her. The rings tangled in the raven hair dragging her head across her own body, tightening whenever she bites too hard. The scene in front of you is intoxicating and you almost feel delirious as you finally start sinking down on the strap being pushed into you, a high pitched whine clawing its way there your teeth.
The witch opens her eyes, the forest encased in night time as she watches your body stretch to take the ginger’s strap. Nodding she shoves Kate off of her, coming to kneel on the bed in front of you. She smiles, entirely too sweet, as she comes close to you. “Look at you, sweet little toy, all stretched out on your Daddy’s cock. I bet you feel so full right now, so wet dripping around her.” She barely makes a clicking sound, a quick indication to the young Avenger behind her. “Are you ready for your show, little one?” She barely waits for you to nod, the feeling of the archer rubbing her strap through her wet folds too enticing.
You’re all too distracted, watching Wanda’s lips move as she speaks to you. You want nothing more than to kiss her, but your eyes go wide when her mouth drops open. A breathy moan tumbling from her o shaped mouth, and your mind catches up when you see Kate thrusting behind her. Struggling in Natasha’s lap, you want to push forward and kiss her but the ginger tightens her hold on you. “Nuh uh, you get to sit there and leak all over my strap while your Mommy gets fucked. Isn’t she so pretty, why don’t you open those legs a little bit and give her something to look at while your Mutt does all the work?”
The way your mind swims should be enough for you to realize that you were too far gone to remember any of this later, but you were practically praying to any deity that would listen to let you dream about it every night. Watching how the archer ruts into the witch is making you drool, the coil in your stomach starts tightening each time you subconsciously clench around the strap stuffed inside you. Natasha is forcing your legs open, rose flush rushing up your neck at how exposed you are.
Wanda’s voice is strong, though it cracks with each rough thrust from Kate. “Look at your pretty little cunt, all puffy and stretched around your Daddy’s cock.” Even as her eyes start to roll, a detail that Natasha takes note of irritably, the witch exudes haughtiness. A trait that you derisively find sexy, something that on most people you hate.
Her moans are getting louder and with a shaky hand Wanda reaches out to you, swiping her thumb over your neglected clit she chuckles at how your hips jump. Dipping her finger into the wetness coating your thigh, she sucks it into her mouth and dramatically moans. It shouldn’t make you whine, but you can’t help yourself. You want to be the one who is sucking on her fingers, but when she reaches down to tilt your head up you wiggle excitedly. Wanda’s lips barely graze yours when her forehead falls forward, bonking into yours as her body tenses.
Kate’s giggles, a sound too high pitched and almost innocent, as she watches the witch tighten around her and her wetness gush. She’s made the older brunette cum before but this, this way has given her so much confidence and she can watch as her entire back arches.
By the time the archer pulls out of Wanda, scrambling to clean up so that she can continue, you’re squirming and begging Natasha to touch you. The ginger is almost bored, scrolling through her phone as Wanda pulls herself up to sit against the headboard of the bed. She’s slipping her legs open, a smirk tugging at her lips when she sees she’s caught your attention again. “I know you want to taste, little one, but you haven’t earned it yet.”
Kate comes into your view, blocking where the witch is, but your mouth drops open instinctively as her strap slaps against your cheek. She hums and lets you suck on it as you want, “You’re so pretty baby, filled and still so desperate for cock. Maybe you should beg your Daddy to make you cum, think you can do that?”
Her voice is so sweet, and light, a taunting tone following up and making you nod as you stare up at her. Tangling her fingers in your hair, pushing you forward just enough for you to gag before letting you go. “Cmon chew toy, I don’t hear you asking for anything.” The more she slowly thrusts into your mouth, the more the muffled begging gets lost and it makes all three of them laugh at you.
Taking pity on you, Natasha drops her phone and finally grips your hips with both hands. Starting to move you, bouncing slowly, the ginger meets each movement with a small snap of her own hips. Already struggling to move, she rolls her eyes knowing that you were entirely too worked up for teasing or edging. “You know, I thought this was going to be a nice long little session toy but you’re already tight and dripping all over me. Making such a big mess for someone who wants to be used all night long.”
Your pathetic whining just makes both the assassin and the archer snort at you, and you’re trying to shake your head. You don’t want to cum so quickly, the coil in your stomach is tight and the arousal is overloading your brain. This wasn’t what you were trained for, you could handle teasing and could go for hours. Your brain is too foggy and you just mumble around the strap fucking your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you try to ward off the orgasm that is rapidly being shoved your way.
Each time the ginger snaps her hips into yours, you can feel yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge but it isn’t her movements that make you lose control. Years of training and practice have caused you to be prideful in how well you could take whatever the two oldest women give you, but when Kate pulls out of your mouth to kneel in front of you something changes. The butterflies in your stomach start flying, fluttering around, as she reaches to wrap her hand around your throat. It’s tight and warm, but grounding as she pulls your face forward just enough to kiss you softly. A whispered declaration of love melting against your lips, and that’s all it takes for you to tumble over the edge clumsily; every ounce of control obliterated.
You’re being laid out on the bed by the time you open your eyes again, the fog in your mind trying to to drag you back under. Wanda leans over you, a gentle smile on her face as she cups your cheek. “Did your puppy’s pretty words get to you, Мой красивый ангел?” She chuckles as she watches you nod, slapping your cheek gently to wake you up. “Stay awake a bit longer, little one. We aren’t quite done with you yet.” She pushes your chin so that you look over to where Natasha is straddling Kate, grinding on her thigh as the archer sucks on her neck.
Whining you try to get up but scarlet mist wraps around you and drags you back, you settle your body into hers. A comfort that sinks deep into your bones as she wraps her arms around you, her head falling to your shoulder as she watches the two with you. “Our Pup has just too much energy, my toy, we gotta give her some toys to play with huh?”
Hearing the sentence, something you had wished to hear for over a year now causes your entire body to turn a faint maroon color. It’s dark as it spreads across your torso and Wanda leaves a gentle kiss on your shoulder, a loving smile spreading across her face. Everything isn’t okay in the world, and maybe it never would be, but right now this is what you begged for every single night. It’s different, and it makes your mind swirl more aggressively than you ever felt. “I’m pretty glad you brought her home to us, the best puppy that we could have ever even dreamt of my little one. Thank you.”
You know the night is nowhere near the end, but watching as the ginger and the archer roll around is something you would pause the entire world for. Giggles as the assassin calms down from her high, you see the two come together. Closing your eyes, you let the warmth of the witch pull you back under your fog. The worries of any issues would be for another day, instead you focus on the happiness of all your favorite people being truly home for the first time.
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Shivers rack your body as you curl up in on yourself more, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders. The cold is almost leaking from the window you’re sitting next to, thin glass the only thing separating you and the piles of pillowy snow. It’s almost like winter is staying around just because of everything happening, and it makes you a bit sad. Spring is about new beginnings but the four of you, even now, seem to be dragging your feet.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep right now, silly girl?” Kate’s hand nudges you as she finishes slipping a hoodie on, her voice soft and sleep filled.
Even if you weren’t necessarily happy with how she is handling things, you can’t help how your eyes shine when you see her lazy smile. “I could say the same to you, weren’t you just snoring your life away not even ten minutes ago?” Your heart flutters when she rolls her eyes at you, pouting dramatically as she flops down and wraps her arms around you.
The silence settles on the two of you comfortably, curling around you as you two melt into each other. It’s an easy thing to do with her, get lost in thought when you are in the safety of one another.
Kate leaves a few kisses on your forehead before letting her own lean gently against your temple, a shaky but almost relieved breath soft against your cheek. “You know, the world seems so big right now.”
“For such a little pup?” It’s light and teasing, and your heart stutters when you see Kate bashfully turn her head.
You reach up, gently touching her chin to turn her head back towards you. Before you even get to say something, the archer leans over and steals a quick kiss. “I just…it feels real now? Not trying to say this entire thing felt fake or anything before but something changed tonight.”
Nodding along, you stay silent; emotion strangling you into submission. A violent storm brews within you, anxiety and fear trying to keep you under water. You hate this shaky feeling, thinking the worst of the worse but you can’t help it. The early morning wasn’t supposed to go like this, not when your girlfriend stumbled out of bed over to you, but instead you can’t help where your brain goes as per usual. The darkness always finds home within you and some days it’s harder to hide it than others, but you almost wish you could always hide it from the archer. She was too perfect, and you wanted to protect her from all the wicked gloom in the world; even if that meant from you.
Kate sighs, knowing that you’re falling into the hole in your head. Trying to pull you back, explain herself and somehow create a new beginning for everyone. “I know it isn’t going to fix everything, or whatever issues everyone has, but it sort of feels like it’s at least all out on the table. Doesn’t it?” Ocean eyes raise to meet yours, hopeful and it crushes you to not agree. “What…what’s wrong?”
“Something still feels off, something they aren’t telling us. Maybe it’s me and I’m just overthinking, but for whatever reason I feel like…” You pause, nervous to voice your absurd thoughts but when the archer’s calloused thumb rubs along your shin you take a deep breath. “I’m here for foundation, and glue, but what now? I’m thrilled that my favorite people are at least open to get along, and to learning each other in a better way but what happens when my primary job isn’t needed anymore?”
You hate how young you sound, barely even being able to put together an intelligent sentence. The women around you could say the biggest words, most professional sounding things even when their anger blinds them but you could barely say your own emotions without feeling like crying.
The brunette blinks at you, processing your words slowly. Her gaze wanders back out the window as she takes her time to think her next words through. “I never looked at you like the foundation. I may have leaned on you a bit, and maybe even hid behind you during some really emotional moments but I never wanted to put you in a situation like that. If I did, I deeply apologize. I would never want to do that to you, and thinking about it I can see times when I might have pushed how much I leaned on you. Making you become the center of the world, a have all or have none situation was not my intent. I will work on changing that, truly. I want you to know that growing and becoming what you need is all I care about, if that means I’m not what anyone else wants then I’ll learn to live with that.” Even when the girl tries to put her deepest thoughts into a well put together speech, she still somehow rambles and she knows it from the slight rose color making its way up her neck.
The need to interrupt Kate is strong, guilt as you realize you pushed your insecurities on her. She never really made you feel like that, at least not a distinct moment. These feelings mostly are just in your head, but you’re struggling to breath and all you can do is nod. The thoughts in your head were fear, fear of losing Kate and the relationship you built because of a dynamic that you were the foundation for.
She reaches up, a sullen sigh falling from her lips when you flinch, but it doesn’t deter her from gently turning your head. The knowing look in her eyes makes your own fill with tears. “I know you’re in your head, baby, but I love you. We’re two different people and we are trying to merge lives, but I will do anything and everything I can to make sure that your time with me isn’t too stressful. I aim to be a place of happiness and warmth for you, a place where you feel at home and safe. I want to be a place for you to rest, not a place for your brain to be overactive and horrible to you. I understand that I can’t prevent everything, nor can I shield you from life but what I can do is choose you every single day. Each moment that I am awake or asleep, busy or lounging, you are the one I pick. Sweet thing, everything about you is all I need and want. I will choose you, and your happiness, over everything. I love you now, then and forever….”
You know she’s waiting for you to finish what she said, a tradition that started over a year ago, but something stops you. It’s almost like she knew that nothing you actually said out loud was the issue, seeing right past forcing your issues onto her and instead seeing the real fear underneath it all. The last pet name she used is one that you know she only uses in special moments, a thing that strikes deeper into your heart more than anything else. Staring up at her, you can’t even think of a response; at least not one worthy of her speech. This girl has truly changed your life, and you don’t care if your entire life is ruined as long as she is there. You know with her that the two of you will always find a way out of whatever issue you may find yourselves in.
Tugging her forward, you practically sob into the kiss. Her lips molding against yours, taking over quickly when you can barely focus. It doesn’t last long, when she realizes you’ve fallen into giggling. Kate rolls her eyes good-naturedly, waiting for the inevitable. You wish you weren’t so predictable but your girlfriend doesn’t even flinch when your teeth sink into her shoulder.
“I love you, pup.”
“I love you too, brat.”
“Now, then, and forever.”
“Evermore.”
#kitmoas writes#k: TGU main#k: training grounds#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#kate bishop x reader#yelena belova x reader#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#kate bishop#yelena belova#steve rogers#tony stark#peter parker#nick fury#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel wlw
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Balsam
Prelude and Chapter 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling
This is a story about trauma. What trauma does to a person, and what trauma does to a community. And how, in the midst of it, people find their way to joy, delight— even love.
Pairing: Joel Miller x original female character
Summary: After the events of tlou, Joel and Ellie try to establish a “normal life” in Jackson, but neither of them are any good at normal. A town doctor tries to care for residents who have experienced unspeakable trauma, and struggles to overcome her own past at the same time. Joel finds himself drawn to her, as their lives become increasingly intertwined. Meanwhile, outside Jackson, troubling things are happening...
Rating: explicit 18+ MDNI
Word count: 6k
Warnings: slow burn, I promise there will be smut but not yet, f/m relationship, not a reader insert, canon-typical violence, descriptions of medical situations, descriptions of trauma and PTSD, Ellie and Joel figuring out how to be family, Tommy and Joel figuring out how to be family, angst, fluff, based on show Jackson because I haven't played tlou part ii, this is the first fic I've been brave enough to put out in the world so be kind.
Series Masterlist
PRELUDE
The boy struggled to work the crowbar; his fingers were so cold he couldn’t really feel them and his grip kept slipping. Finally, though, the old wood splintered around the bolt latch and gave way. He pushed through the door of the shed and fell to the ground inside, spent.
The cold hurt. He was so tired. He’d gone past ordinary hunger, to that desperate place beyond. So now that he was out of the cutting wind, all he wanted was to go to sleep.
Coco had followed him in. She sniffed at the boy’s face, and he felt the warm breath on his skin for a brief, lovely moment. Then she padded away toward the back wall of the small room.
“Come back here, girl,” the boy called out. But she didn’t come back. Was she leaving him now, too? He just wanted to burry his face in her fur and smell her smell as he drifted off. If his father couldn’t be here with him, at least the dog he’d loved could.
He heard a brief, sharp bark. He lifted his head. Coco was sitting by a metal rack on the wall, pointing her nose at something on the second shelf.
“What is it, Coco?” She barked again, still pointing.
He moved slowly, regretfully, as he pulled his aching body up again. She was pointing at an old shoebox, and didn’t stir as he approached.
He brushed the cobwebs away and lifted the lid. It was full of small, dark brown packages. He lifted one close to his face, to examine it in the light coming through the open door.
MEAL, READY TO EAT, INDIVIDUAL, it read. CHICKEN A LA KING.
CHAPTER 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling
“You need to take her to Dr. Conner,” Maria said brusquely, as soon as she’d walked in the room. Ellie was curled listlessly on the couch, face flushed and mottled and hair slicked down with sweat.
“Dr. Conner? Where is he?” Joel asked.
“She is on 2nd street, top of the hill.”
He nodded and looked away from Maria’s icy face. Just what he needed, for her to add sexism to his list of sins. He squatted down to lift Ellie in his arms, held back a groan as his knees popped, and headed toward the door. He was always surprised at how little she weighed, given her sheer force of nature.
“I can walk. I’m not dead yet,” she whined at him hoarsely, squirming against his hold. It was half-hearted, and he kept his grip.
“Not happening.”
Dr. Connor’s was a narrow, two-story building, and the windows were covered with dark curtains. The sign above the door was painted simply with a red cross on a white background. He knocked but didn’t wait, yanking the doorknob and shouldering through the entryway.
Inside was bare, with a row of wooden chairs and a hand-written sign instructing visitors to take a seat. Two doors stood closed, and Joel was eyeing them to determine which he should open next when a breezy voice called from behind one.
“If you’re breathing and not bleeding out, hang on and I’ll be there in five.”
He sighed and set Ellie on a chair before dropping down beside her.
“Nicer than the FEDRA clinics at least,” Ellie deadpanned, her voice creaky and strained.
He looked around the little waiting room. It wasn’t exactly impressive, but if you’d only ever seen a QZ medical facility it must've seemed like the height of luxury.
“There used to be places like this. You got to see the doctor in a room by yourself instead of a big ward with half the neighborhood lined up.” He paused. “It was nice. Especially if you had somethin’ going on you didn’t want to share with everybody you knew.”
She quirked a sweaty eyebrow at him. “Like what?”
“Pass.”
They looked up in unison as a door creaked open and a woman strode in, dressed in jeans and a canvas apron. She was small, tawny-skinned and dark-haired. Younger than he’d expected, although not young-young on second inspection—the start of lines spreading out from the corners of her eyes, a resigned slope of her shoulders. In her 30s, maybe: the last generation to remember life before.
“Please, follow me.” The woman gestured into a small room with a bright overhead light. She pointed Ellie to a cot covered with a faded, flowered sheet and Joel to a stool beside it.
“I’m Nina, I work as a healer,” she said, extending a hand first to Ellie—who limply grasped it—and then to Joel.
He kept his arms down by his side.
“I thought you were an actual doctor,” he said sharply.
He didn’t come here for one of Maria’s communist friends to do some crystal healing, align Ellie’s chakras or some shit.
She gave him a small smile. “People call me that because I’m the closest Jackson has, and I’ve been treating people for years. But no, I’m not old enough to have finished medical school 20 years ago.” Her voice was mild, even friendly, but her eyes asked a question: Are you going to be a problem for me?
He set his jaw but sat back on the stool. He’d at least see if she could help.
“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?” Nina moved closer to Ellie and smiled brightly at her miserable face, looking her up and down. She pulled an old glass thermometer out of a pocket and held it up for Ellie to see before popping it in her mouth. While she waited for it to take a measurement, she slid her other hand down to grasp Ellie’s wrist and held it lightly, watching the numbers on her watch as she felt for a pulse.
“When did she start feeling bad?” She nodded her head slightly in Joel’s direction—Ellie had her mouth full—but kept her eyes on her patient.
“Two days ago. Hit her like a ton of bricks. She’s had fever and chills, and won’t eat anything. Barely takin’ sips of water when I beg her to.”
“Sore throat?”
“Says it feels like knives.” Ellie nodded bleakly to confirm.
The doctor—or the healer, or whatever the hell she was—pulled the thermometer out and nodded at it. She raised both hands to Ellie’s neck, but paused before touching her.
“I’m just going to feel here for your lymph nodes, Ellie.”
She waited to see confirmation in Ellie’s face before continuing, running her hands carefully down below her jawline.
The exam went on, through the familiar steps: Open your mouth as wide as you can, that’s good, now I’m going to check your ears.
He had a sudden, clear memory of sitting in the pediatrician’s office. Watching Sarah as she sat on a paper-covered table.
He could smell the disinfectant and powdered latex, and see the silhouette of her doctor standing there. He was a gray-haired man, always friendly in a fake-feeling way, who whore a crisp white coat over a shirt and tie. Made him feel self-conscious, looking down at his dirt-caked boots and browned forearms.
Sarah used to sit on that exam table and cry when she had to get shots. Not all hysterical or fighting to get away like some kids—just silent tears that slipped out of the corner of her eyes.
He remembered how, when she was five years old, she’d swallowed a penny and he’d rushed her over to the clinic. It wasn’t like her to do something like that: she was thoughtful and sweet even at that age, a rule-follower to a fault. His heart had jackhammered in his chest as he had visions of her intestines puncturing or her being rushed to emergency surgery.
The doc explained patiently that these things usually “passed” on their own. With a little chuckle he gave him a plastic bowl that fit inside the toilet and instructions to check it for the next week to make sure the penny came out the other end.
He recalled the rush of relief and the flush of embarrassment. Watching the doc laugh and feeling like a moron for having gotten himself so worked up.
“Earth to Joel,” Ellie croaked. He turned to see two pairs of eyes on his: Ellie’s red-rimmed and liquid brown, the doctor’s—he was now noticing— so dark they were almost black.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Most likely it’s strep throat, although there’s no way to tell for sure without tests I don’t have,” the doctor said. “I’ll give you some antibiotics, and if it is strep, it will start to get better right away.”
“What if it’s not strep?” Joel asked, heart in his throat.
She smiled. “Then it’s a virus, and she’ll get better on her own.” Her tone was reassuringly confident. Joel watched her disappear briefly out the door, then return with a paper packet she pressed into his hand.
“Take these twice a day. Even if she starts to feel better, do not stop the medicine until it’s all gone. I know we’re all used to stretching supplies, but it doesn’t work that way with antibiotics—she’ll get sick again, and worse.” She looked to him for acknowledgement, and he nodded.
“Keep pushing her to drink fluids.” She turned to Ellie now, who was hunched over and looked about ready to pass out. “You’re dehydrated, kiddo. It’s part of why you feel so bad right now. If you don’t drink, it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke pointedly but gently, and Ellie shrugged an assent. “And if you aren’t feeling better in two days, come back and see me.”
It was late when Tommy got home. Pretty much every part of his body hurt after the day’s work— fixing freeze damage to their well system— and he had been dreaming of crawling into bed with Maria.
Not the way he sometimes dreamed of crawling into bed with her, even now with her looking like she’d swallowed a watermelon. Maybe he’d have the energy for that in the morning, but tonight he just wanted to feel her in his arms and time his deep slow breaths with hers.
She was already fast asleep, so he moved as carefully as he could, lifting up the covers and sidling in behind her. She was curled on her left side and he tucked his body tightly against hers, his arm snaking gently around her bare belly. When he was lucky he could feel the baby kicking against his hand in this position, although right now both baby and mama were at rest.
He lay there, willing himself to relax into sleep. But there was too damn much on his mind these days.
This winter had been brutal, even for Wyoming. The town had held together with a lot of hard work and ingenuity. But out there in the countryside, others had not been so successful. He’d heard awful stories: starvation, cannibalism, raiding parties far and wide. The patrols kept running into trouble, and although so far the groups had been small enough to handle, who was to say they’d stay that way?
Tommy knew that people in Jackson looked to him and Maria to keep them safe. It was more responsibility than he’d ever had before in his life, really. He was proud of himself— and scared shitless.
He breathed in Maria’s smell, nose pressed against the nape of her neck. He tried to count all the blessings in his life, savoring each one. It was a trick he used sometimes, to make his thoughts shut up. This incredible woman who had saved his life. The baby she was growing for them. This town. A full stomach. A warm bed. Joel doing so good, for once, with that kid of his.
Although Joel was maybe not the best topic to think about, if he wanted to sleep tonight. Not that he wasn’t grateful, or happy to have him nearby and safe. But his feelings were complicated. Sometimes he hated to admit how much of a hold his big brother still had on him. Made him feel like a little boy, hungry for approval. And at the same time reminded him of the lowest points in his life.
If he was honest with himself, he’d felt a lot of relief along with the guilt and sadness when he’d left Boston. He’d felt the same when he cut off radio contact.
Something had changed with Joel though, lately. He was still a bitter man, tightly wound and full of pain. But Tommy had seen moments of tenderness from him that he thought he’d never see again. Even moments of joy.
He felt the prickle of tears in his tired eyes. He knew he was being naive, that a little bit of good couldn’t undo all the darkness that they’d been through. But he clung to the hope still, as he started to drift off to sleep: him with his baby, Joel with his girl—maybe they would all be okay.
“Tommy!”
He turned with a smile as the doc walked up, clapping a hand against his back. “Hey Dr. Connor! How’s it been?”
“I’m going on your next southwest patrol,” she said. Announcing, not asking, as she had a frustrating tendency to do.
He took a sharp breath through his nose. “Nina—“
“It’s time to harvest willow bark. I need enough for the next year, for all of Jackson.”
“I understand, I really do. But this winter has been rough and people are desperate. We’ve had some kind of trouble almost every patrol. It’s just too dangerous to stop and hang around out there.” He used the most authoritative tone he could muster, trying to stare the small woman down.
“And people won’t be any less desperate until we’re well into April. By then the trees will be in full leaf and we’ll be out of the window for harvesting. And I’ll have half a dozen angry locals wanting to know why I don’t have the tea for their arthritis or their heart condition.”
She fixed him with a dark stare, and he fiddled with the frayed edge of his jacket cuff.
She knew how Jackson worked, and if he said no she could and would bring it up at the council meeting. Where she would no doubt whip up the town’s crotchetiest and most infirm—who had nothing better to do than sit in on every meeting of every committee—into a rage over herbal tea. Shit.
He nodded curtly. “Friday at dawn. If there are any signs of trouble before we hit the riverbank, we’ll have to turn back.”
“I really appreciate it Tommy,” she said with what she surely thought was a winning smile. Which he did not return: he was not in the mood.
Marisa stirred the stockpot of oatmeal gently between customers, to keep crust from forming on top. She stared out at the dining room and watched the clusters of people. Some were deep in conversation; some wolfed down their breakfasts so they could hurry on with their days; others looked half-asleep still.
A group of teenagers were tucked way back in the corner, as far as they could get from the adults, clearly enjoying their morning bullshit session. She remembered doing that just a few years ago, with Anya and Jamal, when her dad wasn’t around to see her goofing off. He believed that if teenagers had energy to run their jaws, they had energy to work.
The new folks came in with a blast of cold air.
They were an odd pair. The girl was rude and mouthed off too much, but she had a lot of energy and seemed like fun. The kind of kid Marisa had always been fascinated by, when she was that age. Wishing she could move in the world with that kind of confidence.
The man, though, gave her the willies. He was intense and stern, like her dad. He never smiled, although he did at least say please and thank you. She couldn’t hardly believe he was Tommy’s brother. Tommy was his exact opposite, gentle and friendly.
She used to think Tommy was cute. She still did, really, but she didn’t think about him much lately. She was too busy daydreaming about her Beloved.
She called him that after an old romance book she’d found in an empty house and hidden under her mattress. The book took place during the Civil War, and the buxom narrator fell in love with a dashing soldier. She wrote letters to him every day, addressed to My Beloved. The soldier in the book had beautiful blue eyes, just like Marisa’s Beloved.
Tommy was out there now, talking with Dr. Connor. He looked unhappy. Dr. Connor could do that to people. She was always so nice when you were sick or hurt and went to see her. But out in the real world she could be mean as a snake. Or maybe she was more like a fox: someone sly, someone you had to watch.
Brandy Burkholder had started working with her last summer, after a several month campaign. Nina had eventually determined that she was serious about learning to practice medicine, despite the fact that she wasn’t terribly serious about anything else. She was an outgoing sixteen-year-old with a pretty smile and a flare for the dramatic, and she came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help Nina with various tasks.
Today it was supply inventory. Every other week she went through what she had, checked her levels on common medications and herbs, and looked through her equipment for signs of damage or wear.
Nina enjoyed inventory, even if what she had to inventory was often pathetic. There was something calming about lining up all the bottles, looking over her orderly shelves, and counting all the pills and needles and rolls of gauze.
And there was some extra excitement this afternoon: they were going through a bag of random medicines and gear to see what could be salvaged. Anya and Clemons had found in an empty house on a hunting trip earlier that week.
Brandy held up an orange plastic bottle of pills from the haul. “Dox—y—cy—cline,” she sounded out carefully. “That’s an antibiotic, right? So it goes in the cabinet above the sink?”
“Hold up. What’s the date on the bottle?”
“Um, let me see.” She squinted to read the fading print. “Damn. It’s from 1999. This is an antique!”
Nina shook her head. “Toss it. Expired tetracyclines can be toxic.” It was a shame— she really could have used it.
She pulled out a bottle of Benadryl tablets, and pried open the lid. Some of the pills had swollen with absorbed moisture and cracked, but they were mostly intact and there was no mold. She added it to the keep pile.
Brandy showed her a box of individually packaged 22 gauge needles. The plastic wrappers were warped and brittle and had cracked open along the seams. But the needles inside were straight and sharp. She would sanitize them in the autoclave and they’d be good as new. Another keep.
A bottle of cough syrup had hardened to a shiny paste— toss. Two inhalers were empty—toss again. Half a tub of vaseline went in the keep pile. Then she found something really good at the bottom of the bag: an almost-full bottle of Valium.
“Isn’t this the stuff that bored housewives used to get high on?” Brandy asked, smirking.
“Yes, and that’s why it goes in the locked cabinet,” Nina said pointedly. She didn’t need Brandy getting any ideas. “But more importantly, it’s the best treatment when someone’s actively having a seizure. It’s also very helpful for setting bones.”
“Sweet! There was some good loot in that bag.”
Nina looked over the shelves appraisingly. “Yes, but it’s not enough. This all has to last until Mo comes by in April.”
“Are you going out to meet him?” Brandy’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the smuggler. Nina knew how people talked about him: the dashing Robin Hood who stole from FEDRA and gave to the people. But it’s not like he gave them anything: they paid him, in valuable farm goods like butter and honey, for every last thing.
Nina didn’t say anything about that to Brandy, though; let the kid have her fantasies. She also didn’t mention the fear that kept her up at night— that next time she went out to meet Mo, he wouldn’t show. She knew it was only a matter of time before his line of work caught up with him, and that when it happened they would be shit out of luck. Jackson did a lot of things well, but manufacturing antibiotics wasn’t one of them.
“Yep, April ninth. Three weeks after the equinox,” was all she said.
The sun was melting into the horizon, bathing the street in golden light and purple shadows. Joel was walking to the saddler when he saw the woman up ahead and quickened his pace.
“Hey! Dr. Connor!”
She turned as he approached and raised an eyebrow. “So I’m enough of a doctor for you now? How’s Ellie?”
“Well, she’s a hundred percent better. Givin’ me shit and drivin’ me crazy.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” The doctor seemed genuinely pleased. “I’m sure you deserve whatever shit she’s giving you,” she added.
“Look,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I wasn’t very fair to you the other day. And you helped us out anyway. I appreciate that.”
She looked at him, meeting his eyes with an intensity that startled him. There were those deep brown irises he’d noticed in her office, framed by thick black lashes.
Then she smiled, holding out her hand to him. Her grip was surprisingly firm as they shook. “You’re not the first person to doubt my expertise. I appreciate you putting your daughter in my care.”
He looked over her shoulder, at the reddish sky reflecting in the window of a supply depot, and took a breath. “I know people don’t pay for things here or anything, but I feel like—I mean, I would like to give you something at least. For the medicine.”
She waved dismissively. “I’ve seen you go out on patrol. You keep Jackson safe, I keep Jackson alive. We all do our part.”
She laid a hand on his stiff shoulder and gave him a pat. Then she turned and headed back in the direction she’d been walking, before he could figure out how he ought to respond. He watched her for a moment, her dark curls swinging over a denim jacket, his shoulder tingling with a phantom pressure where her hand had been a moment ago.
Jackson made him real fucking uncomfortable, sometimes.
He didn’t like owing people favors, and he didn’t feel like he belonged in a town where everyone was so nice all the time. The doctor was case in point— he’d been mean to her when they’d first met, and that hadn’t been right. But he’d tried to be nice to her too now, and it still felt weird as hell. Maybe he’d entirely forgotten how to be nice.
He walked on, hands shoved in his pockets. If he was honest, he didn’t want to be living here. In the house across from his little brother, like some kind of post-apocalyptic sitcom. It brought back all kinds of things he didn’t want to think about.
He was going on patrol Friday and he was looking forward to it. At least out there he knew what to do with himself. Stay alert, keep moving, assess the situation, maintain control— with force if needed.
Ellie looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then quickly opened the door below the red cross and slipped inside. She sighed with relief to see no one inside the waiting room, and sat down with her backpack clutched to her chest.
Dr. Connor stepped into the room, thankfully alone, and smiled warmly as she pointed Ellie toward a door. Ellie darted in and jumped up on the cot, then looked down at her sneakers. One had a bit of rubber starting to come loose around the toe, and she gently wiggled it with her other foot. She heard Dr. Connor close the door behind her, and then the expectant silence.
“How can I help you today, Ellie?”
Her cheeks burned, and she found she couldn’t look up. Why did the town doctor have to be beautiful? For an old person, but still. She kept studying her feet, as she heard the scrape of a chair being pulled over and the soft thump of Dr. Connor sitting down a few feet away.
When the doctor spoke again, her voice was soft. “I’ll ask you a few questions. All you have to do is say yes or no. You don’t even have to speak, just shake your head. Okay?” Ellie exhaled, then nodded.
“Did someone hurt you?” Ellie shook her head no emphatically.
“Are you having a problem with a private part of your body?” Ellie paused, then nodded once.
“Is it your related to your period?” Head shake. “Are you having pain?” Head shake. “Itchiness?” Nod. “Discharge?” Ellie felt like her cheeks were going to catch on fire as she nodded again.
“Are you sexually active?”
“No!” Ellie shouted, looking up at Dr. Connor with a startled stare.
“It would be okay if you were. You wouldn’t be in trouble. And I wouldn’t tell anyone—not even Joel.” Her voice was even and conversational, as if she were talking about the weather and not about fucking.
“Well, I’m not,” she snapped. “I don’t know why this is happening. It’s never done this before.”
“Have you ever taken antibiotics before?”
She thought for a moment. At FEDRA school they gave you pills sometimes if you were sick, but they never even told you what they were. Some of the kids said they were sugar pills, and some of the kids said they were tranquilizers designed to make you behave. She shrugged. “I don’t actually know.”
“Did your symptoms start after you began taking the pills?” Ellie nodded.
“I’ll want to do a quick exam to be sure, but yeast infections can be a side effect of antibiotics. Your vulva actually has a lot of bacteria living in it—good bacteria.” Ellie raised her eyebrows and fixed the doctor with a horrified look, but she ignored her and went on speaking.
“It’s like a garden with lots of different plants growing side by side. The plants are healthy, and there are enough of them that they fill up the space and keep the weeds out. The antibiotic got rid of the bad bacteria in your throat, but it also wiped out the good bacteria in your vulva. It’s like we picked all the good stuff from that garden, and now there’s good soil and plenty of space for bad stuff to grow. That’s allowed the yeast to take over—it’s actually a fungus.”
“Like cordyceps?” Ellie asked, eyes widening.
“Yes, like cordyceps. But it’s a different species, and unlike cordyceps we have medication that will kill the yeast. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” Ellie felt relief wash over her.
Wednesday morning was for house calls. As she left the dining hall, her supply bag bouncing heavily against her left hip, she ran into Ellie and Joel on their way in. The girl smiled sheepishly and looked away; the man twitched a corner of his mouth and held the door for her. Which for gruff types like that, new to civilization, was as good as a pledge of everlasting fealty.
She watched her breath fog through the cold March morning as she walked, feeling vaguely anxious.
Miss Nora’s house was on the corner, a low redbrick ranch. She let herself in, knowing Miss Nora’s son was out prepping the fields for planting, and headed into the living room that doubled as Miss Nora’s bedroom these days. She was sitting up in her bed, carefully knitting a big orange sweater. “Dr. Connor! So good of you to come by.”
Nina leaned in, letting Miss Nora plant a papery kiss on her cheek. “You know you can call me Nina,” she said, pulling her stethoscope out of her bag and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
She gave her brightest smile, trying to hide any trace of the dismay she felt every time she walked in there. Miss Nora was 67, and until last fall had looked a decade younger than that. Now every week she seems to age another 5 years, her face growing gaunter, her hair thinner, her skin more sallow.
Her son Jamal, ever diligent, tried to tempt her with all her favorite foods, but she would push the plate away after a bite or two. He fought with her over it, convinced that if she would just force herself to eat she would regain her strength.
Nina, on the other hand, was not so optimistic. She thought Miss Nora’s body was shutting down: the lack of appetite was only a symptom of something much more serious.
She suspected cancer, but couldn’t say for sure what kind. Obviously, it was affecting the liver or the common bile duct, based on her yellowing eyes and skin. But that could be a metastasis from a solid tumor somewhere else. She once again felt the woman’s abdomen gently, palpating for a mass. Still nothing. Not that it mattered, ultimately—even if she could magically intuit that it was, say, pancreatic cancer, she wouldn’t be any closer to being able to treat it.
At least her lungs still sounded clear. Nina pulled the stethoscope from her ears and slung it around her neck. “Are you ready for your breathing treatment?”
The woman nodded enthusiastically as Nina carefully packed the pipe she’d brought with dried leaves.
It was old, crumbly, and low quality, and it was hell to get ahold of. But like the opium she kept carefully hidden away in her locked cabinet, marijuana was one of the more potent herbal medicines in her arsenal.
She had nothing else to offer Miss Nora.
She saved Maria for her last stop of the morning. Maria could have easily come to her clinic, even 7 months along, but Nina wanted to confer with her anyways. And she loved Maria’s house—with the late morning light pouring through the windows she could almost believe she was in the suburbs of her childhood.
Maria was making tea when she arrived, and they sat in the living room with a mug each. The steam felt good against her face—while they were out of the worst of the winter, the wind was still brutal on these mornings as she walked from house to house.
After a little small talk she eased Maria backwards on the couch and pulled out her Pinard horn, rolling it between her palms for warmth. Nina had carved it herself out of maple wood, shaping the little trumpet painstakingly to match the illustrations in an old midwifery book.
She could still remember the sense of triumph when, years ago, she first pressed it into a woman’s belly and heard the fetal heartbeat buried inside. People thought medicine was some kind of noble calling—and there were moments when it felt that way to her, too. But more often she was driven by that magic feeling of the body yielding up its secrets to her.
Everything looked good on the exam, despite Maria’s “advanced maternal age.” The same as it had been every week of her pregnancy so far.
Still, Nina worried.
There was a lot that could go wrong bringing a baby into the world, for both baby and mother. Maria was her friend, and she knew how devastated she would be if she lost the child. She also knew how much Maria meant to Jackson, and she worried about the impact of losing Maria even more.
“I’d like your thoughts on something.”
Maria fixed her with one of her looks. “It’s usually not something good when you say that.”
Nina sighed. “I had a patient come in yesterday with what was almost certainly the clap. I treated him, but the man in question was married, and I have reason to believe he didn’t get it from his wife.”
Maria’s brow shot up. “Jesus, Nina. That’s not something I want to know about.”
“I would rather not have to know about it either. But we need to know about it. Both women he’s sleeping with could have infections.”
Maria’s expression hardened as she listened.
“And if the women have other partners, who knows how many people in Jackson are affected? Gonorrhea isn’t just a drippy dick. People could have pelvic inflammatory disease, ectopic pregnancies, miscarriages. Babies can be born with infections.”
“Do you know who the other woman is? You could treat her, too,” Maria offered.
“I… have my suspicions. But I’m not 100%. And he wouldn’t tell me anything.”
She thought about Derek Starkey sitting in her clinic, head buried in his hands. Starkey’s wife, Jenna, had given birth to their first kid last summer. They’d always made a beautiful couple: Starkey was a big guy, tall and broad, with ruddy cheeks and icy blue eyes. Jenna was tough and sweet, with a blonde ponytail and freckles across the bridge of her nose. The son they doted on took after them both, depending on the day.
She was inclined to hate Starkey’s guts.
A guy who couldn’t take it when his wife wasn’t dressing up as prettily as she used to or wasn’t as available as she once was to him, because she was busy caring for his infant child. Marisa Robinson, who worked with Starkey in the kitchens when he wasn’t on patrol, was younger and needy and made puppy dog eyes at him while he kneaded dough with his big strong arms. It was a tale as old as time: another shitty man behaves badly.
She struggled to hold onto her resolve, though, as they spoke. Starkey’d been barely sleeping since the kid was born. Every night in bed he was flooded with images of terrible deaths. He saw his child infected, shot, decapitated, drowned. All those monstrous things he’d seen over the years and had been powerless to stop, and which he now felt powerless to protect his beautiful boy from. Life in Jackson had given him a measure of peace, which had seemed like enough when it was just him and Jenna. But it felt too horribly tenuous now to trust. And Jenna didn’t get it. She slept like a rock between feedings. She told him to get over himself, had no time to talk him down from his panic attacks. Someone else had been willing to hold him while he shook with fear.
“Then we have to tell the wife, at least.”
Nina shook her head. “I keep going back and forth on it. It might break up a marriage, and that could have reverberations throughout the community. And the other woman, there could be consequences for her, too.” She thought of Marisa’s controlling father, who always creeped her out.
“But also the next time someone has symptoms like this they might not come to me, because I wouldn’t be a safe person to tell. Then this stuff would spread around town and we wouldn’t even know.”
Maria gave her an exasperated look.
Nina wasn’t sure what she had expected. It would feel so nice to off-load this problem onto Maria. But her friend was maybe too absolutist to navigate this one. Or else there just was no way to resolve things that would feel right.
“I’m going to have to think on it some more,” she said, as she packed her supplies. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”
#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x original character#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#Ellie Williams#Tommy Miller#Maria Miller#soft!joel miller#series#tlou fluff#tlou show#tlou
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Hello! Sorry to hear youre in quarantine, I hope youre doing ok :)
Would you want to write something for your do androids dream of angel cyborgs au?
The prompt in your list "i like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot" seems like it could be extremely cute
It's been ages since I've worked on this au!
That is a good prompt, perfect for them. :)
For those new to the au, it's a future-based au with Crowley as an advanced android (who was originally naked AJ0440) who accidentally develops free will and had escaped. Aziraphale is a cyborg who runs a bookshop (that technically is just barely avoiding being illegal) that also doubles as a repair shop for out-of-date androids and cyborgs.
On with the fic!
--
"It's a shame," Aziraphale commented as he opened the door to the roof of his shop, "that the blasted lights and neon display images make it so hard to see the stars here in town."
"That's fine, angel, it's the thought that counts." Crowley chuckled, following behind with a blanket, in Aziraphale's hands was a small basket.
It was a clear enough night to have the moon seen, though stars were harder. Still, Aziraphale thought it would be a nice gesture anyway, to spend a bit of time out on the roof to just enjoy the night, some wine, and each other's company.
"Still, it would have been nice to do some... oh, I dunno, constellation spotting? Is that what one calls it?" Aziraphale turned, pouting a bit.
Crowley smiled and patted Aziraphale's shoulder before moving to lay out the blanket, his fingers blinking pink as he set it down as perfectly as he could. "Sure, you can call that. But it's fine, angel! I'm sure we'll have a good night!"
He wasn't going to point out that his eyes could filter out the light pollution, and he could see the stars, but Aziraphale didn't need to know that. He took his friend's hand and helped him get down, Aziraphale's leg had been aching, came with the changing weather, he had said.
Aziraphale gave him a gentle smile, which has Crowley's insides whirring loudly. This human has such an effect on him, it's... it's a lot that had been building up within Crowley.
A lot that he really needed to get out of his chest. He hoped it wouldn't backfire, emotions are... complicated. And difficult. And sometimes free will was a muddled mess, but if humans could live with it, so could an android.
"I picked an excellent year for us." Aziraphale said, opening the basket, setting out the bottle, then grabbing two glasses. He also pulled out a small covered dish he had prepared before, something that Crowley wasn't really going to touch. Food wasn't completely necessary, but he could use the wine as bio-fuel. And it was delicious, that was a plus.
"Thanks." Crowley replied, watching him before glancing up at the sky. He could see small movements of satellites and air crafts, lights blinking and displaying messages from projections. He adjusted his eyes and they were gone, he could see natural lights, from stars and reflections off planets.
"Are you alright, dear?" Aziraphale asked, and Crowley saw him giving him a concerned face. "You're making odd noises, are you overheating? Your lights are flashing too. Goodness, do we need to do a systems check?"
"Uhh... no, no, it's not that." Crowley shook his head, glaring at his hands before shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. He sat down, grumbling, but Aziraphale kept watching him.
"What is it?" He asked softly.
Crowley looked at him, seeing him under the lights of SoHo, of the moon, of the faerie lights that he and Aziraphale put up last week because the cyborg thought it would look pretty.
Aziraphale looked pretty.
Crowley sighed, turning to face him properly. "Angel, listen... there's something that's been on my mind for a long, long time. Something that I've been trying to understand, something that I don't think androids normally feel. I mean, I know that Francis does with Ashtoreth."
He grabbed for one of the glasses that Aziraphale has prepared, taking a sip from it. "And... well, I've realized something about what it is."
"What is it, Crowley?"
Mismatched eyes stared into hazel, and Crowley knew this was his last chance. "I like you. A lot. Like a lot a lot."
Aziraphale blinked. "You do?"
"Yes. I'm aware that these sorts of things don't normally happen with androids, we're technically not supposed to feel emotions, obviously. But I do. I feel things for you, lots of things. Lots of things that overheat my systems, lots of things that make me feel like I'm gonna blue screen when you smile at me, or laugh, or tell me sweet things. It's just... holy shit, it's a lot? Do you know?"
"Yes, I do." Aziraphale said softly. "It's a lot, I understand, because I like you too, Crowley. A lot. More than I had expected, which is not a bad thing. It's a wonderful thing."
They looked at one another, and they didn't say anything else. It was better not to, it so just... it was nice, looking at the sky, holding hands, just being... them.
--
I like the idea that they don't have to say everything, they understand, they completely understand how the other feels. It's a lot, but it's good.
#good omens#ineffable spouses#ineffable husbands#do androids dream of cyborg angels au#anthony j crowley#crowley#aziraphale#john's drabbles
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PART ONE
Jake had noticed he had a stalker. He kept seeing a strange guy just about wherever he was when he wasn't home. And to be honest, it was getting quite creepy.
One day in the mall, Jake saw the stranger once more. He decided he would elud him in one of the busiest department stores. His plan was to quickly exit before the stalker even noticed he left. He entered and watched as his stalker followed him in. He saw the guy was persistent.
He knew of only one plan to elud his stalker, but it was risky. Seeing that it was his best option, he proceeded with his operation. He made sure the guy had followed him toward the show department. Once in the area, he found a cleared section with no customers. He quickly used his transformation power.
Jake instantly was a size fourteen pair of AND1 sneakers on the floor. Just at that moment, the stalker arrived but only saw the sneakers on the floor and left the section. He was relieved to see him disappear at last. It was time to revert back to normal and exit before the stalker got wind of his plan.
Just as Jake was about to transform back, another guy showed up. He seemed to be looking for a particular pair of shoes. He didn't want to transform back now because his secret would be revealed. So he waited to see if the guy would eventually leave the area. The guy looked to be about 6'4" tall with an athletic built body. Jake actually found him attractive looking. He could also tell that his shoe size was rather large. It was then he saw his situation could be bad for him. He only hoped the guy would not be interested in him and move on.
Reed couldn't find the exact pair he needed in his size. He was looking for a pair of AND1's, but found none in his size. It was then he noticed a pair on the floor, but it didn't have a price tag on it. It looked like someone just left them there, totally brand new look. He tried on the left sneaker, and found it to fit perfectly and comfortably on his foot.
Jake looked on with horror as he saw the stranger approach him. This was bad, yet he didn't want anyone knowing about his secret power. He felt the guy pick him up off the floor and examine the sneaker tongue of the left shoe. He saw the guy smiling as he began to walk off with him in his hands. The fact of him being temporarily worn on his left foot brought on the gravity of his situation. This stranger wanted to take him home and use him as his pair of shoes. The worst was that the stranger was unaware of the true nature of the sneakers in his hands.
Reed found just what he was looking for and in the right size. The only issue was how to pay for them. There was no price tag on either sneaker. He went to find a store manager to see how much the sneakers cost.
"I found these perfectly new pair of sneakers on the floor, no price tag. I was wondering how much for them." Reed paused. "They were the only pair I found in my size." He handed them over to the store manager to examine.
The store manager saw that they were brand new, but curious as to why the price tag wasn't there. "Follow me," he told Reed. He went to one of the computer stations, and found that particular pair in that size wasn't even on the inventory list. Yet, they were brand new sneakers. He couldn't just let these leave without the store making some money on the issue. "I can sell them to you for $15.00. They were originally $32.99. Discounted due to the price tag removed and not boxed." The store manager lied since the customer wasn't looking at the computer screen.
Reed couldn't believe his luck. It was a bargain to get them almost half price. "I'll take them." He replied. He followed the store manager as he went to get a box to place them in. It was hard to find a box that they would fit in, but he eventually found one.
Jake saw his situation go from bad to worse. Once he was placed in the box, there was no getting of being sold to the stranger. If he is confined in a small space, he would not be able to transform back unless in open space. He was literally stuck as the guy's sneakers until an opportunity presented itself.
Reed followed him to the cash register where the store manager put in his code that allowed him to mark down items in special cases. Once paid for, Reed left the store with his new shoes in the bag.
Reed really was anxious to test out his new sneakers. He went to the closes mall restroom. There he took off his old sneakers and put on his new pair of AND1s. He felt like he was walking on clouds. They were really comfortable.
Jake wanted to cry. He went into that store to elud his stalker to end up being sold away as footwear for a total stranger. The nightmare got even worse because now the stranger was completely wearing him. If the box situation was bad, being on feet was worse. He really couldn't transform back now. He could smell a slightly bad foot odor coming from the slightly dingy white socks. The fact that it was pressed on his face made him have no escape from it. His face would compress and decompress with each step. It felt never-ending. With no end insight to how bad his predicament would get, he was forced to endure a never ending torment at the feet of a stranger who was completely oblivious of what he was doing to another human being.
Reed went to place the old shoes in his car and to meet up with friends in the restaurant section of the mall. He could not wait to show off his new shoes. They were the best pair he had ever bought. He had plans to spend the rest of the afternoon with his friends in the mall.
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A Field Of Dahlias
Notes:
Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.
When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.
Request- Do you think you could write about dahlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.
Anyway here is this little fic. Also here is part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you missed 'em. You can also read this on Squidgeworld, or AO3.
Also! I am now realizing I have strayed entirely from what the original prompt was, which was basically the exact same events of Acomaf and Acowar just with the added inclusion of Tamlin being pregnant with Feyre's kid. Buuuut this is my story and I shall do as I please.
Plus if I rewrote the entirety of the Acomaf and Acowar books this would be unnecessarily long and I would lose all interest, so in an effort to keep things fun I have pretty much scraped the entire plot of Acowar and made it my own.
I think my ideas are more fun anyway. But when I tell you this plot is was deeper than I meant it to be, I mean it.
Anyway enjoy!
Tag- @sonics-atelier (Anyone who wants to be on the tag list, feel free to ask me!)
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The next few days passed, each seeming longer than the rest. Meetings with Hybern that lasted hours, and keeping the mask glued to her face.
Lucien often found his way to the former human, snarking with him in the corner, sharpening his tongue and finding every way to irk the General.
Though it seemed Jurian entertained his game with insane eyes and a twisted grin. Lucien met it with skilled words and smart replies. Watching them dance around each other as they practically sized the other up was entertaining in it’s own way, Tamlin supposed.
Tamlin found herself coming into contact with the woman in robes more often than she liked.
Lady Amber, with her cunning mouth and smart eyes, she was a threat. A cruel snake in tall grass. Always lurking around the corners in the shadows. Watching with slanted eyes, everytime she opened her mouth Tamlin expected to see a forked tongue.
After a meeting, Lucien remained engaged with Jurian in whatever talk they had found. Jurian watched him with a cocked head and eyes that barely blinked. He looked as though he had lost it.
Tamlin slipped away from the meeting. A murmured goodbye to the Lords and an apology that she would not stay later. Hybern had brushed her off as he spoke to another Lord, and Tamlin was too tired to snap for a response.
Passing through the cold hallways, she kept her eyes ahead, watching the crawling shadows. A chill ran down over her skin, showering her in goosebumps.
As she walked over wooden floors. Dark green dress whispering around her ankles, she almost wished she had just grabbed Lucien, or someone to escort her.
She hated this place. Hated every room, every reminder of the woman who had made her life hell for so long.
But that would be stupid, she knew her way back to her room, and didn’t need someone to hold her hand.
But as she turned a corner, Tamlin nearly jumped.
Lady Amber stared at him, with her cruel icy eyes. Tamlin took a quick step back, one hand subconsciously going to her womb, the other falling to her thigh, where a concealed dagger laid.
“Lady Amber, I didn’t expect to see you.” Tamlin told her.
“Just taking a breath of fresh air.” She smiled. Even her voice sent chills down her spine.
“I see,” Tamlin replied, “Well, you enjoy yourself, I must be getting to my rooms.”
But as she went to walk past her, Lady Amber chimed, “Leaving so soon? Come Lady, we have barely spoken these past few days.”
Tamlin swallowed and said, “Well, we have been quite busy.”
She went to step away again, but Lady Amber moved smoothly to block her way to her rooms.
Shit.
Tamlin breathed a tad quicker than she needed to, and Amber noted that she cocked her head, a serpent's smile on her face, “Well, neither of us are busy now. Please, let us talk.”
Tamlin swallowed, another action she noted, shit, “About?”
“How far are you along?” Amber asked, tilting her head to the other side slowly.
She considered not answering, but ended up replying, “Five months.”
“Halfway then,” She murmured.
The world seemed to darken, Tamlin took a step back, feeling like something was pressing in around her lungs. Constricting her breathing, “Yes.”
“That is very interesting, and the father, or mother, is the Cursebreaker? Right?” She took another step forward.
“Yes.” Tamlin let the agitation shine in her voice, “Now, if that is all you have to ask, I will be on my way-”
“Oh but darling, I have more questions,” She said, reaching out a hand, her sleeve pulled back to reveal a bracelet of emerald. Her fingers brushed Tamlin’s arms, and she reeled back.
“Please do not touch me.” She insisted.
“Oh I apologise, my dear, but please do answer all my questions.” She prowled closer and Tamlin felt like prey caught in a hunting trap.
“I can answer any more questions in the meeting tonight.” Tamlin said, “Now please, I will be going.”
She pushed past Amber and headed in the direction of her room, wanting to sprint, to run, to go, go, go-
Amber grabbed her arm with such a force, bruises would surely be left.
Tamlin screamed, but a palm was slapped over her mouth.
She tried to summon claws, her magic fought to the surface. Screaming and crying as it raced to protect its favoured son.
But Tamlin cried out again as her magic slammed into a wall, preventing it from escaping. It shoved and pushed, and screamed and it felt like he was exploding under her skin.
Her eyes had screwed shut but when she opened them she saw the bracelet on Amber’s wrist glowing golden.
“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord. And the power this child could have.” She whispered cruelly.
Tamlin struggled against her arms, but Amber was deceptively strong. And she was feeling weaker and weaker.
She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”
Tamlin tried to scream, tried to run, but Amber pulled her closer.
“The birth of your child will fuel the magic of Spring for centuries to come. To harvest that energy,” Amber's hand slipped down to take away the dagger from Tamlin’s thigh, “We would be unstoppable.”
No.
No, no, no, no.
She laughed, and that dagger began to slide over whatever bare skin she could find, “Even your blood holds power, it sings-”
“Amber!” A voice shouted.
Tamlin cried with relief as Amber quickly threw her to the floor. Barely catching herself on her knees.
Shit.
Dear Gods-
Looking up, Tamlin saw a familiar face.
Jurian was leaning against the wall. Eyes wide, mouth curled into a grin, face twisted with insanity. Tamlin couldn’t exactly blame him if he had lost himself, afterall he had been an eye ring not just a few months back.
“Jurian.” Amber said smoothly, “To what do we owe your company?”
She didn’t keep the sneer out of her voice. The man flicked his eyes between Tamlin and her, tilting his head to the side, looking like a cunning cat.
“The King has sent for you two.”
Amber straightened at that. Eyes glancing down to Tamlin. Burning with such an intensity Tamlin heard the words she spoke, ‘Don’t tell him a thing that happened here.’
As if the King of Hybern would care if she had been trying to kill her.
“And why would that be, Jurian?” Amber asked bluntly.
His grin twisted into something insane once more, “Why the delightful Cursebreaker has come.”
She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick all over the floors, or pass out, or a combination of the two. Tamlin raced to stand beside Jurian, and Amber maintained a leisurely pace behind them.
Her heart was thundering against her ribcage. Desperately wanting to run. To hide, to leave immediately. But there was nothing to be done. A predator at her back and an insane man at her side, there was no telling what either of them could, or would, do.
They went through the dark tunnels, and then finally, they were opening the large, heavy doors to the throne room.
Amber then strutted ahead and Tamlin sighed with relief as she was finally in front of her and not leering behind.
Hybern sat upon the massive, black carved throne. Soldiers flanking at every side. Many hidden in shadows, waiting and watching. Lucien was standing near to the throne but when he laid eyes on Tamlin, he ran to her.
“Tamlin are you-” Lucien blinked as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes, “Tamlin what happened?”
“We have to get out of here.” She whispered quickly.
“Dear Gods, the Night Court-” Lucien cupped her face.
“Lord and Lady of Spring, come forward.” Hybern barked.
Lucien looked over his shoulder and quickly took Tamlin’s hand leading her up to stand beside the throne.
Leaning in, he whispered, “Keep up the mask a little longer Tam, we’ll get out of here.”
Dear Cauldron and Mother.
The room was large, the ceiling looming far overtop of her. The throne she stood beside, was the same one she had seen her father kneel before. Seen Amarantha kneel before.
Now she stood there. Below the same King that had allowed his General to take over Prythian.
From the shadows of the throne room, she saw blue eyes glaring, and a cruel smile. Amber watched from where she could not be seen. Emerald bracelet gleaming in the minimal light.
Shit, shit, shit.
She was being hunted. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap.
Lucien’s eyes followed her. Finding the glowing sky blue in the shadows. He looked back at Tamlin, opening his mouth to ask, or to accuse Amber. But he was cut short when the doors slammed open.
And writhing, kicking and screaming, was Rhysand and Feyre Archeron.
Her blood turned to ice.
She was dressed fully in Night Court uniform. Face twisted in hatred and anger. Eyes glowing with a storm.
Lucien stepped out in front of Tamlin, half hiding her from sight. Just enough that Feyre would only be able to make out half of Tamlin’s face and blonde hair.
“Welcome Night Court, to the Kingdom of Hybern.” Dae drawled from his throne.
“You.” Feyre hissed with such venom Tamlin nearly flinched.
“King of Hybern.” Rhysand murmured. His voice reverberated with power, even if he was held back by guards.
Three others came into view, and Tamlin’s eyes went wide at the Night Court entourage. Two Illyrian warriors, and a blonde-headed female with wide brown eyes. All their faces pulled back into snarls. All their eyes found the King of Hybern.
Feyre however was staring right at Tamlin and Lucien. She screamed something that Tamlin couldn’t make out.
“What an interesting group,” Dae said. Dragging a finger up the arm of his throne, “So you’re the great Cursebreaker? Finally a face to put to the name.”
“Release us!” Feyre screamed at him.
“Now, I cannot do that so soon, Feyre.” Dae said, “Why, you just got here. After trying to steal away with my little prize no less.”
Little prize…
“We’ll return to our Court.” Rhysand offered. “And give you no more trouble.”
Liar, as always. His ploy was as clear as crystal water, yet there was something nearly trusting in it.
Daemati magic, he was attempting to coax the King into releasing them.
Dae just laughed at his attempt, “Then I wouldn’t be fulfilling my part of the bargain.”
“Bargain?” The blonde haired female questioned.
Dae then gestured to the Spring lords beside him, “Why my bargain with Spring of course. I help to return their missing fawn, and I will have their loyalties in the War soon to come.”
“You bargained with them.” Feyre breathed, her spiteful face nearly blank for a moment. Before it curdled into undying rage, “You bargained to steal me back!”
“Feyre.” Tamlin breathed.
“How fucking dare you!” She screamed, voice raw and powerful. Echoing through the room.
That was the mother of her child. His child. Tamlin looked between Hybern and Feyre. Hybern who smiled so coldly down at her. Eyes narrowed and cruel. Feyre’s mouth was pulled back into a snarl as she pulled and kicked against the guards holding her down. Like if she was free she would run at the King, or Tamlin. Lucien seemed to sense that as he subconsciously held out an arm. Keeping Tamlin locked behind him.
Rhysand’s violet eyes jumped around the room. Locking into everyone. Taking into account every piece on the playing field.
Tamlin sucked in a breath, grazing Lucien’s arm with his fingers, “Feyre, we are saving you from him-”
“How dare you decide what is good for me!” She cut him off with a shout, “You have no right.”
“Feyre.” He felt the High lord’s power seeping into his voice, and begged it to stay at bay. For now.
“You will not take my mate back there.” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes glowing with barely concealed power.
The day outside felt like it got a little colder. And Tamlin's eyes went wide as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Mask slipping away as anger took hold of him. Burning inside his flesh, face heating up, bones tightening in his skin. He wanted to shift claws and fur and teeth and lash at Rhysand, but a hand reaching over to brush the back of his hand halted every action. Lucien’s eyes were set on the Night Court, but Tamlin could hear the unspoken words.
‘Just a little longer.’
Hold out, keep the beast at bay, just a little while longer.
So Tamlin straightened his back. Summoning the face of the High lord of Spring, he felt the cruel cold mask of his father slip away as he faced Rhysand with all the raw, unfiltered hatred he held for him, “I do not care if she is your mate, I do not care if you think you have a right to lay claim to her. She is mine and she is coming home with me.”
Tamlin remembered his mother’s face when his father laid claim to her time and time again. He remembered the tragic story of the former Lady Spring, how she had been taken by his father and claimed without consent, all for the crime of being his mate.
Tamlin wouldn’t let that happen to Feyre.
Never would he ever stand by and let that happen to any other female again, least of all his Feyre. His sarcastic, wild, beautiful Feyre.
But as the words left his mouth something deeply rooted, and hateful twisted in Feyre’s eyes. Causing the storm to darken like never before, she tried to leap forward but was reigned in by Hybern’s soldiers.
“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered, turning his eyes up to Hybern.
But Dae just lifted a finger, an order to be silent. Tamlin nearly snapped but Lucien’s hand gripped him quickly.
Damn it.
Dae lounged back in his throne, “Now, this has been as interesting as ever, but if I may, I would like to perform a little experiment.”
At those words, all eyes snapped to the King of Hybern. Lucien’s head turned so quickly Tamlin thought he heard the Fox’s neck crack.
“What-” Tamlin murmured, but his words were cut off.
The giant, black stone room seemed to darken for a moment, like the lights had flickered on and off simulatanously.
In between a heartbeat, the air shifted, tightening until it was nearly to heavy to breathe. Shadows pressed in and darkness swirled in his vision. It was like a presence had descended in Hybern.
An earth shattering clap of thunder, Tamlin jumped back and Lucien grabbed him by the waist. The Night Court reeled back, and someone screamed.
But the doors of the throne room were thrown open so quickly they slammed against the walls.
And four figures strutted in with their heads high, eyes cruel and each wearing the same twisted expression.
Four human women, each with flaming eyes of a multitude of colours. Like different colour flames. Each breath was a puff of power into the whirlpool of magic that had shadowed the throne room.
There was a shout of something incomprehensible and the two Illyrian warriors tried to rush at the human women, but the soldiers were fasted and in a split second, the two were chained to the floor by threads of black magic.
There was laughter and smiles from the humans as they gazed upon Fae brought so low. One, an older female were greying hair and silver eyes, stopped before the Illyrians, glaring down with a smile.
Tamlin felt the hatred burning off of her, years of remembrance from times humans kneeled before Fae was in her gaze. The High lord of Spring couldn’t say the hatred for their kind wasn’t deserved. It absolutely was.
But then she turned her eyes up to Hybern as the four approached his throne.
The seemingly eldest of the group spoke first, “Hybern, make this trip worth our time.”
“As if I ever wouldn’t.” Dae purred to her. Eyes gleaming wickedly. Something like disgust gleamed in hers, but she held his evil smile with a uncanny version of her own.
“What is-” Rhysand yelled out, cut off by a guard pulling him back by a rope that had been quickly tied around his neck.
Lucien moved even further in front of him. Hands twitching like he might just grab Tamlin, toss him over his shoulder and run.
Tamlin put a hand on his shoulder, if only to prevent him from doing just that.
“This, Lord of Night,” The eldest human purred, “is power.”
They bargained.
It was clear as day, Tamlin saw in all their eyes was magic that shouldn’t belong to humans. It came from a bargain.
And it was only confirmed by Dae’s next words, “The Queens of the Human realms and I have created a bargain of our own. I give them the power they so desire, and in return I have their support.”
The blonde female on the floor, next to Feyre, screamed, it was raw and guttural, “We had a deal!”
The Queens just grinned with cruel eyes.
Hybern was planning to invade the mortal world. To take them all back as slaves, and the Queens had countered with a plan of their own making. A last ditch effort to protect their lands, making plans with the enemy.
Tamlin caught the eye of one of the Queens. A beautiful woman, with eyes that were wide set like a fawn, hair perfect and dress smooth. Her fiery eyes burned into his own with delight and something rest-assured.
She winked, her grin softening into something confident and genuinely kind.
Tamlin returned it with understanding in his eyes.
They were here to protect their Courts. The same way he was.
But as he looked back down at the Night Court, it seemed the great powerful Daemati’s had yet to catch onto that.
Rhysand’s eyes were wide with panic, the purple shining bright like light violet, he writhed against his chains. And Feyre tried to dive a foot into the gut of the male holding her back.
“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered again.
Dae once again ignored him, “Back to my little experiment. As per requested by the Queens. I will show you just the amount of power we hold in the palms of our hands.”
With a snap of his fingers. The doors slammed open.
And the room fell silent as the air was sucked, and darkness filled the world.
Whispers of ancient evil and cruelty filled his ears, and phantom hands crawled up his skin. Invasive and touching, and filled with a power he could barely imagine.
The whispers got louder and for a moment Tamlin made out what they said to him.
“Son of the Lady. Son of our Lady. Son of the Blessed. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia.”
Dahlia.
Son of Dahlia.
His mother.
The Cauldron was placed on the floor, and the darkened liquid sloshing inside lapped at the edges of its cage. Whispering to the outside, curious and peeking around. Like fingers that traced the rim of the bowl. Beckoning.
There was a choked gasp and Tamlin’s eyes snapped down to Feyre, she wasn’t looking at the Cauldron, or the Queens or Hybern.
Rather she was staring down at a pendant around her neck. She held it in her hand as her eyes were wide, staring at it as it glowed with power.
Emerald.
He saw it in her palm, it flashed at him like metal gleaming. With power it glowed so brightly she clasped it in between her two hands, eyes shooting up, and they met his.
Momentarily stunned, hatred was all gone, as she looked to the Cauldron, then back to the necklace.
Two and two were quickly put together.
The necklace was reacting to the Cauldron.
“What-” Feyre gasped out.
Then there was raucous laughter as a snake stepped out of the shadows.
Lady Amber stalked towards the Cauldron like it called for her. The hood of her robe fell away as she approached, looking down into the deep magic it held like it was her own. Her eyes gleamed so wickedly, and as she lifted her hand, her sleeve fell down to her elbow.
And exposed her emerald bracelet, which glowed like a shining star in the sky, as if it was basking in the delightfully evil power of the Cauldron. Eyes gleaming in the reflection of the light, Amber turned her head up to the King of Hybern.
“We will be unstoppable, my King.” She murmured.
Dae grinned as he tossed a leg over the arm of his throne, lounging in all his glory, “I know, High Priestess.”
She was their High Priestess. No wonder she had such robes.
Tamlin looked back down to the emerald clutched in Feyre’s hand, as she hid it under her shirt.
He looked back at Amber’s emerald.
Feyre met his eyes, wide with confusion and fear.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
They needed to get out of here now.
“Lucien-”
Lucien’s eyes widening halted Tamlin’s words as cries and screams filled the air once more. And a set of guards winnowed in, bringing all Hell with them.
Feyre was the figure out what was happening, and the first to scream as she lunged forward.
“Nesta! Elain!” Feyre screamed, a guttural sound that shook the room with magic.
On the cold floor they were thrown, in just their nightgowns. The two Archeron sisters were tied, skin bruised, the eldest one had her lip cut, red and black blooming on her eye from where she had undoubtedly been punched.
The middle one was screaming, tears freely dripping down her face. Her hands were bleeding like she had been desperately grabbing onto something to prevent them from taking her.
No.
Fucking hell no.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Tamlin shouted up at Hybern. Stepping forward, wanting to rush at him.
Lucien held him back by his wrist.
Dae just grinned once again, “The experiment.”
“Let them go! They have no part in this!” Feyre shrieked.
“This was not part of our deal.” Tamlin seethed.
“No.” Amber said, hands hovering over the Cauldron, as if taking in warmth from a fire, “it was in our deal.”
Nodding, the King of Hybern grinned, “We needed a test subject for this little experiment. And these two, sisters of a Made Fae, will work perfectly.”
“You told them about my sisters!” Feyre accused, screaming as she nearly snapped her chains. Teeth and claws nearly breaking her skin, breaking through a near impenetrable force of magic around her.
“No, no I-”
“He didn’t.” Amber replied smoothly, eyes greedily lapping in the sight of the Cauldron, her own form of worship as she gazed upon it, “My dear little runaway daughter did.”
Runaway daughter.
“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord.”
“Release them at once!” Tamlin shouted, hands curling into fists.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen.
Who told the King about them? Who would do this? Who would be so cruel-
“I told you not to come here, Tam.” An emotionless, static voice called.
A full body chill descended upon his skin, every nerve on end, burned and raw.
Please no.
If there was anything in the world he could ask for, he would ask for this to have all been a dream. Ice flooded him as starkly as the warm anger that had curled in his gut as another walked through those large doors.
Pale blue robes, blonde hair curling around her face. Eyes filled with nothing at all, as she walked towards the Cauldron, towards the two sisters.
“What have you done?” Tamlin whispered.
Ianthe stoic eyes didn’t meet his as she said, “You should have never come here.”
She told Hybern. Ianthe revealed the sister’s.
But that meant-
“Dear daughter.” Amber crooned, as she beckoned the Priestess forth. Ianthe obeyed, her head low as she stepped up to the Cauldron, beside her mother.
“Dear mother.” Ianthe murmured back, her voice as blank as her eyes.
No.
But denial was worth nothing, as Rhysand hissed, “I knew you were a viper, Ianthe. The apple never strays.”
For the first time since entering, emotion flashed in her blue eyes for a moment as she flinched at the words.
Amber ignored Rhysand as she stepped back and grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and held Ianthe in front of her. Fingers digging into the bone until it must’ve hurt. But Ianthe just held her head high and gazed into the Cauldron.
“Enough embellishments, let our experiment begin.” Dae declared, “The Mortal Queens wished for a show of how a human can be Made. We will give them just that.”
With a snap of his fingers, the guards grabbed Nesta and Elain pulling them to their shaking knees as they both pulled back and tried to kick away.
Dae observed them both with cruel eyes, before ultimately saying, “Put the pretty one in first.”
Nesta screamed as Elain was dragged to the Cauldron.
“No.”
She was lifted up, her head thrown back as she cried out. Heels slamming into the lip of the Cauldron, like she might shove off, like she might tip it over and run.
A burst of unadulterated magic struck him and Tamlin rushed forward. To Dae. To the Throne.
Claws and teeth and everything vicious and snarling. Tamlin lunged forward, but something burning and too bright grabbed him and reigned him back. Gagging him and pulling his clawed hands away from Dae’s face.
Tamlin snarled and Hybern laughed.
Gasps echoed from behind him, and Tamlin’s eyes widened by a fraction as he realised, Lucien was no longer in front of him to hide the evidence of the baby.
Hybern mouthed, ‘You will regret this.’
A shout of terror and anger vibrated in his bones as Lucien writhed against his own restraints, held back after trying to dive after Tamlin, and the girl being thrown into the Cauldron.
Nothing could be done. Even as Feyre screamed so loud the Palace nearly shook, Elain was thrown in.
The emerald on Amber’s wrist glowed as her smile widened.
And the world shook.
Everything quivered.
Like a shaking breath of pleasure, the ground, sky and wind melted into the point of the Cauldron, as Elain was boiled alive.
It was barely a second long.
Her hands broke the surface of the Cauldron and she grabbed the edge. Head breaking up for air, she gasped, and as she took a new breath, reborn, remade. The Earth quivered again.
Her long brown hair stuck to her back, neck and shoulders. Pushed up by her hands, nightgown soaked and sticking to her skin, revealing every part of her frame.
And Ianthe at the Cauldron, her stoic mask was burned away as she began to shake. Breath stolen from her lungs as her blue eyes shone like sapphires.
Elain’s hands slipped and she nearly fell back into the dark waters.
But Ianthe’s hands were faster. Nearly shoving away from her mother, she lunged forward, grabbing the creature that had once been the human Elain. And pulling her out, to the ground. Soaking her robes with water that was both holy and sinful.
“Ianthe!” Amber shouted. But Ianthe ignored her as she gently laid the shivering Elain in her lap as she kneeled on the floor.
Still the same eyes and sweet face, but her limbs were longer now, skin healthier, glowing. A golden light was pouring from her chest and the tips of her fingers. Haloing her head.
Ianthe was panting, breaths becoming shallower and shallower as stared down at the newly Made Fae.
“Ianthe, get back over here.” Amber seethed.
“Mate.” Ianthe gasped out.
The world exploded.
Nesta screamed as she lunged forward and tore Elain away from the Priestess, shoving Ianthe to the ground.
Amber shrieked something. Face burning red from anger, hands shaking, she snapped forward. Ianthe tried to scramble back, but her mother grabbed her, pulling her hood, her head covering off of her blonde hair. Ianthe screamed as she cried, trying to pull the hood back over her head.
Amber pulled Ianthe’s face to her own as she screamed curses in the name of the Mother in her face. Curses of breaking her vows, and Ianthe sobbed, heavy wet tears falling down her face.
“Enough!” Hybern’s voice echoed through the room, Amber looked back up to the King of Hybern, who nodded to her. Amber gritted her teeth and threw her daughter to the floor and quickly covered her head again as she cried and whispered prayers to the Mother. Apologies and begging for some kind of mercy.
Tamlin writhed against his chains. Pulling and pulling. Elain sobbed into Nesta’s chest, but the guards pulled her away, as they grabbed Nesta and forced her to her feet. Nesta screamed bloody murder as she was dragged to the Cauldron.
“No, No!” Feyre cried as she too was helpless but to watch her eldest sister be picked up and brought to the surface of the burning ice of the Cauldron.
But as she was plunged under, Nesta twisted her body and turned to Hybern.
As her skin was burned going under, the flaming water eating away at her skin and bones, turning her into something else. She lifted a hand.
Her eyes flashed.
Target locked.
Promise marked.
Nesta Archeron pointed to the King of Hybern, and Dae, Dae with all the power in his hands, flinched as his eyes widened and his skin paled.
And the once human girl went under.
If the world quivered in pleasure at Elain’s death and rebirth, it roared with anger at Nesta’s.
The air turned stiff and everyone began to gasp for air like it had been taken away. The ground under them shook and the stone floors screeched as it cracked.
Outside thunder split the sky. Causing the world to divulge into a show of rage and hurt, as the Cauldron cried out like it was being torn apart.
And finally, after too long and barely a second later at the same time, two hands broke the surface and Nesta tried to shove out of the Cauldron. Dark water dripped down her face, as she grabbed the rim of the bowl, she lifted her eyes.
Silver danced in them like flames of molten steel.
The whole room went wholly still.
She gasped and gagged, tears of anger and pain streaming down her face. She hauled a leg over the Cauldron, but as if something were pulling her back in, she slipped back.
In a sudden burst of light and energy, Lucien rushed to the Cauldron, free of his restraints.
However, he wasn’t faster than Elain, who scraped her knees, blooding herself further as she leapt up and grabbed her eldest sister’s hand. Dragging her to the floor. Nesta fell in a boneless heap in her sister’s arms.
Lucien, reaching them just a second later, didn’t waste time as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the two sisters. Nesta snarled up at him, but out of energy she couldn’t force him away. Elain accepted the warm, dry clothing with little more than a piercing glare.
Made. Pointed ears pushed past their long locks of hair. Skin glowing with power that wasn’t previously there. Fae, through and through, with nothing human left to them.
Dae cleared his throat, cutting through the power and magic writhing in the air. He addressed the Queens, “Now you see what the Cauldron can do, the power it holds. Creation itself is in our hands.”
Creation itself.
Twisting his head, Tamlin looked towards Feyre.
Her eyes were wet with tears, and her eyes kept darting between everyone. Like she didn’t know what to think about first.
They were so utterly fucked.
Feyre didn’t know what to do.
At first it had been going just as planned.
Then she had turned her back on the Cauldron and laid eyes on one she had only ever seen as an eye ring on Amarantha’s finger. Jurian had smirked at them as guards descended on them.
Brought kicking and screaming to the throne room she had at first been set on rushing at the King herself. As she watched Cassian and Azriel struggle against their restraints. As Morrigan was tied up and Rhysand was chained, she pulled her power to the surface and prepared to rush him.
Then her eyes fell to two standing by the throne. Tamlin mostly hidden behind Lucien, who was watching with blank eyes. All anger had consumed her in that moment, as she remembered being trapped behind those doors, locked in that house. She screamed and wanted for blood to spill.
Then those mortal Queens, betraying them and looking down at Azriel and Cassian like dogs. Feyre wanted to kill them too.
Then her sisters, tossed into the Cauldron and remade. Because Ianthe, someone she had considered a friend, had given them away. Had willingly handed them over to Hybern.
Ianthe’s own words came back to her, “Just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value." She had told her. Almost like she was warning her.
Or perhaps taunting her, Feyre thought, since she ended up betraying her.
But then Ianthe had pulled Elain into her lap, and whispered that dreadful word.
Mate.
Feyre had wanted to scream and shout, but froze. Nesta reacted the quickest, shoving Ianthe away from Elain.
Then that High Priestess of Hybern, Ianthe’s mother, had screamed in the Priestess of Spring’s face.
Ianthe still was on the floor, her mother hovering over her. Watching her every move.
And Feyre found herself clutching the emerald necklace now hidden underneath her shirt.
It glowed with the power of the Cauldron. And when she looked at Ianthe's mother’s wrist, a bracelet of pure emerald glowed under her robes.
What else had Ianthe told her that day? When she gave her necklace? The day she had cried out in her mind for someone to take her away from that wedding?
"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."
"Need it?" Feyre whispered.
Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."
"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered.
"I did." She stated.
Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."
Try and see what may lay underneath…
What lays underneath, what lays underneath, what lays underneath?
Now Nesta, Made Fae and stripped of her human skin, clutched Elain. Whilst the middle Archeron sister pulled her in protectively, anger and pure fear twisting in her face as she helped to shield the eldest.
Feyre clutched the necklace tighter, part of her wanted to rip it off for the deceit of Ianthe, the other made her keep it on.
One of the Mortal Queens, those traitors, stepped forward and away from the rest. She was the eldest of the group, her darkened eyes swept over Nesta and Elain before turning back to Hybern, “We see that you have such great power, Fae King. With this confirmation, my sisters and I ask we go through to the next phase.”
Hybern smiled coldly, “Then let us proceed.”
Proceed.
As the Queen smiled, the others encircled the Cauldron.
Hybern caught Feyre’s widened, confused eyes. As the Inner Circle around her were strapped with chains and gagged with cloth. Morrigan fought them away as best she could, but the blonde was exhausted and easily restrained.
“I see you are confused, Archeron. Allow me to explain.” He grinned, “The Mortal Queens will be vessels for the Cauldron’s magic, and with them we will spread power throughout the entirety of the Realm, taking full control of this world and all its inhabitants.”
Full control.
Feyre snapped her eyes to Rhysand, whose entire face had gone completely pale. That rope around his neck choked him as it was pulled. Spine bending, his back arching as his whole body trembled. A half-muffled cry of pain tearing from his throat.
Then her eyes tore to Tamlin, gagged and bound. Green dress singed where the ropes burned over his clothes. And when her eyes fell to his middle.
Like alarm bells were blazing in her ears. Fae senses all sharp on and on edge. Instincts in buried deep down in her core fought to the surface. Forcing her to crawl forward, towards him, as if if she laid hands on his skin this would be undone.
Her mind was screaming it, a voice that wasn’t her own told her what it was.
Pregnancy, a baby, her child.
Her baby.
Shit.
Feyre rushed to her feet on fiery legs, her muscles contracting and burning. She rushed for the throne, claws shooting through her fingertips. She would rip Hybern’s throat out, she would kill them all, she would undo all of this.
She screamed as the chains around her limbs dragged her to the ground, the noise that left her throat was half feral animal. Every one of the Inner Circle swivelled their heads to her. Their eyes wide, fearful and confused.
She met them with a look of anger and pain. It coursed through her skin, making her fill with light from another power that was not naturally her own. Skin glowing, hands smoking with fire and the whole world so sharp and clearer than ever, a sob was torn from her. Making her whole body shake.
Shit.
Then a scream echoed through the castle. And smoke filled the throne room.
When Feyre looked towards the Cauldron, she saw black, ashy smoke that rolled out in waves, rippling over the stone.
And the Priestess wearing black robes, who had called herself Ianthe’s mother, was bent over the side of the Cauldron. Her face completely submerged, burning and bubbling off.
Ianthe stood behind her. Eyes wide and full of terror and rage. Feyre nearly flinched as she witnessed the Priestess of Spring with her hand forcing her mother’s face into the Cauldron as she screamed and screamed, even under the water.
“Release her!” Hybern’s voice bellowed through the room.
Ianthe did not listen. As fire flamed in her eyes she screamed for all to hear, “This is what you deserve, you fucking witch!”
In a second, everything turned.
As soon as Ianthe’s declaration left her throat, her mother twisted up. Her hand grabbing onto Ianthe’s robes and tried to force her down into the Cauldron.
“Ianthe!” Feyre screamed.
The Priestess tried to kick and fight back as her mother came back up from the Cauldron.
Oh Gods.
Her face, fairer than before, eyes pools of blazing fire. Hair dripping and soaked, light that spilled down her shoulders. Like the sun had come down from the sky and walked as a person. Blinding and beautiful. And so, so angry.
Her mother screamed something incoherent as she pushed her daughter to the lip of the Cauldron.
“The emerald!” Ianthe screamed as she grabbed onto the lip of the bowl. Nails tearing away, fingers pouring blood as her mother tried to shove her in.
Hybern shot up from his throne and gaurds rushed to the Cauldron.
The emerald.
It burned a hole through her shirt, and marked her chest as it filled with undiluted power.
Feyre grabbed onto the emerald even as it singed her palm, burning her flesh until it was scorching and smoking.
With no idea what it did or how to use it, Feyre did the first thing that came to her mind.
She brought up every drop of power she had writhing in her, screaming for release. Screwing her eyes shut so she only saw black. She imagined the seven orbs of magic, sitting deep in her belly. Waiting for their chance to rise. She imagined each Court. With their magic, their skies, their sights, their feels. Even the wind was different for each.
She felt the emerald grow hotter and hotter and hotter until her bone was exposed and turning black from heat. The pain was nothing compared to the magic clawing its way out of her body.
Winds that surrounded her, each different, some harsher, some hotter, some softer, some colder. Feyre didn’t know where her body began or ended as power collapsed in on her, and the emerald became her only anchor to the world around her.
Screaming erupted in the throne room and Feyre opened her eyes.
She saw light, golden beautiful light, it shone in her eyes and hair and skin. She met the face of Ianthe and her mother.
Ianthe grinned so wildly as her mother plunged her into the Cauldron.
Feyre screamed and the world shattered.
The Mortal Queens drew swords from the pockets between worlds. The eldest tossing off her heeled shoes and diving at the guards holding back Rhysand.
She cut them down in one fell swoop, heads rolling to the ground, and the High lord of the Night Court was free.
Feyre didn’t feel the ground beneath her feet, and when she looked down, she saw that she hovered above it. Power writhed around her like threads of light and fire. The colours shifted from green, to purple, to white, to black, to blue, to every colour she had ever seen and more.
With her hand clutching the emerald, she felt it, sucking the energy around it.
She gave and gave and gave her magic until the emerald had all of it. A stone of magic and power. Until it was no longer recognizable as an emerald, until it was just a pool of pure magic.
Falling to the floor, her knees cracked against the stone, she pulled it close to her heart as all magic left her.
Her breaths were slowing, her power was gone, her ears were rounded now, instead of pointed. And she felt the undoing of the healing work, as her neck felt more and more fragile, the bone chipping away.
Not much time left.
Ianthe’s mother left the Cauldron’s side as she rushed for Feyre, running with her hands out, trying to get the emerald from Feyre’s hands.
In one final burst of strength Feyre got to her feet and threw Ianthe’s mother to the floor. Then ran for the Cauldron.
Her feet gave out under her.
Sprawling across the floor, Feyre saw through darkened eyes, the emerald rolling from her hand out across the floor.
Then Ianthe’s mother laughing as she stood over Feyre.
“Off with your head.” She crooned, as her foot came down and snapped her neck.
Tamlin didn’t think he would be able to break free of the restraints that were holding him down.
Then he heard the sound of bone under foot. And he saw her again, red hair, and laughing cruel eyes. Hands on his bare skin. And then hands on her skin, her power holding her up as she snapped her neck.
In a burst of immense power that washed through his veins. Forcing to the surface. Roots that shot up from the ground. The ropes turned to nothing around him, bursting into light and warmth.
And Tamlin launched at Amber. Her head tilted back as she laughed and reached for the emerald.
But never got to it as Tamlin pulled her down to the ground.
She screamed as her arm reeled back and hand closed into a fist, connecting with his jaw. He cried out in pain, but grabbed onto her hand and yanked hard enough that a handful of blonde curls were ripped out. She screamed, pulled her hand back again and her punch landed in his belly this time.
Tamlin screamed, as she laughed and pulled her hand back again
Amber shrieked as fire split across her side and she was thrown across the room.
Lucien screamed his name and ran to his side.
He couldn’t feel much, that punch sent fire up his jaw, he tasted blood in his mouth, but nothing was compared to the terror seizing up his every movement as pain twisted and pounded in his belly. A sob was ripped from his throat. Big, wet tears shedding down his face, but he forced himself up.
Lucien grabbed and held him back. But Tamlin laid eyes on the glowing emerald, and the chaos around it.
The mortal Queens were fighting the soldiers with all the strength they had. Swinging their swords and meeting the soldiers for every strike. But being human, they were losing the fights.
The Illyrian warriors and the blonde female were grappling with their captors. And Rhysand ran for Feyre. Arms reaching out, screaming as he tried to grab her.
Then a guard reefed him back, shoving faebane down his throat. And forcing him to be tied once more.
They were losing. Badly.
And through all the chaos, the swords clashing and the screaming. Tamlin heard footsteps. Footsteps that reverberated through the room and through his bones.
When he looked up, Dae stared down with a grin. Reaching down he took the emerald in his hands. Filled with the power of seven High lords. Glowing like a fallen star spilling its light across land.
“Well look at this.” Dae said as he looked into his palm, at the star of power shining up at him.
“I do wonder just what we could do with this.” His grin widened as his head filled with all the power he now held right in the centre of his palm.
“Nothing!” A voice screamed.
The world rumbled, shaking with the power that shuddered through it.
Everyone ceased their movements as the earth seemed to come to a blinding stop.
Looking to the Cauldron, there she stood. On shaking legs, as unstable as a just born foal. Soaked to the bone, her hair stuck to the sides of her face. Eyes blazing with anger and courage.
Nesta Archeron clung to her limp sister. Her broken neck unable to hold up her head. Her formerly strong body, now unmoving and dead.
“You will be nothing.” Nesta breathed, voice a puff of frost in a frozen land.
Dae stared at her with wide eyes. Unable to anticipate what the middle Archeorn sister was doing.
Elain appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if travelling in between worlds. As if winnowing, but in a way that was slightly different, unlike appearing from one place to another, but as if running between the worlds, travelling on air.
She snatched the emerald from Dae’s hand, and as he shouted and went to grab it. Elain tossed the emerald into the Cauldron. At the same time, Nesta pushed in Feyre.
Coming back to life was a different experience than before.
Her skin burned and burned and burned. Back arching, each muscle on fire. Flames spread over her skin like never before. Singed like the hairs of a feather. Fire and icy water delving into her body. Ripped apart and put together again like a deconstructable doll.
She wanted to scream, open her mouth and throat and scream for all her life. But as her lips parted her throat filled with water and she choked. Drowning, as her lungs filled with it. The fiery liquid burning and freezing her all at once. In a panicking haze she fought to get somewhere. Anywhere, just out of the water, but there was nowhere to go.
She wasn’t in open air, instead underwater, deep in a void of darkness that was never-ending. As if she was in deep ocean. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw black. Around her was just black, above her was all black. All of it was black.
Black, black, black.
She was dead, she had to be dead. She was in some kind of eternal punishment. This was the Hell she had been warned about. Oh dear Gods.
Her body went limp as her eyes closed once more. Unable to breathe, unable to think as she fell deeper into the darkness. Feeling cold seeping in like never before
Then something grabbed her.
A hand held onto her arm, keeping her connected to whatever was with her here. Her eyes shot open again, as her body fought for life, as something, that thing holding onto her, just being there wouldn’t let her die.
Darkness, it was all darkness, until it wasn’t.
Until something filled with light dropped down with them, like a drop of sunlight falling into the sea.
As it fell down to them, Feyre saw her.
Blonde hair floating around her face in the water. Eyes of bright blue. Skin pale and covered by pale robes.
Before it could fall past them, Feyre took hold of the drop of light, holding it in her palm as she stared at Ianthe.
And as that emerald sat in her hand, a warmth spread over her skin. Making her come alight. Her very blood began to glow with its magic, making every line, every vein underneath her skin light up with it.
The water was gone from her lungs, and air was no longer needed. Her body completely sustained on power.
Not dead.
They weren’t dead.
Looking down at the drop of light in her hand.
It was the emerald.
Soft fingers touched her mental wards. Feyre quickly opened them, and a soft voice spoke into the space between them, ‘Feyre.’
‘Ianthe.’
They stared at each other through the water, shimmering reflections connected their hands, holding onto each other like they might slip back into darkness at any moment.
‘They’re out there still.’ Ianthe said, ‘We need to use the emerald.’
‘How? It has all of my power now. How do we use it?’
Ianthe grinned as she covered Feyre’s hands with her own, closing the emerald in.
‘Breathe in, and command it.’
The Cauldron was bubbling over. Water splashing over the lip, hissing angrily as it hit the floor. Black flames licked up over the water. It boiled over as the world started shaking. Parts of the roof falling.
Time to get out of here.
Tamlin was still unconscious. Blood dripping from his mouth, a bruise swelling on his face. Lucien picked him up and stood off the floor, being as careful as he could. Pulling him into his arms even as Lucien himself still knelt on the floor.
He took a hit to the stomach, panic swelled in Lucien’s chest as he thought of what could have happened.
Gods please just make sure he’s okay.
Where to run?
The world around them was swirling shadow and fire and smoke. There was no way out. No one could get out now. They were in the middle of a losing fight, a circle of bloodshed and killing around them, as guards shouted, the Queens cried out, and the Night Court spun with their steel and hands.
And Hybern ran for the Cauldron. The King looked over the edge, going past the bubbling and the black fire spreading. Looking in, trying to find that emerald of light.
Elain had fallen to her knees and crawled to her shaking sister, who even with her eyes of steel could not hide her horror at the sights around her.
Lucien pulled Tamlin closer to his chest, and pulled fire from his core as his eyes lit up.
And his own flames burst through the room.
Two guards screamed as their body was reduced to ashes. Around them, Lucien formed a circle of impenetrable flames, and did the same for Elain and Nesta. Elain whom had pulled Lucien’s coat from the floor and covered her sister with it. Her doe brown eyes jumped up to him, Lucien nodded to her and Elain returned the gesture with an almost smile, an almost thank you.
Almost because she couldn’t be anymore thankful to him than she was to the people who had put her in the Cauldron. But Lucien didn’t blame her for that.
“Feyre.” A voice croaked from below him, Lucien looked down at Tamlin whose eyes slowly blinked open. He coughed and more blood dripped down his chin, “Feyre… Cauldron-”
“Tam we have to focus on getting out alive.” Lucien told him as he lifted his hand and aimed a blast of fire at a guard who threw one of the Queens to the floor and lifted his sword to her. He fell to the ground a pile of bubbling flesh. Lucien heard retching noises and when he glanced over he saw Elain finally keeling over as she vomited at the sight.
He felt bad for the girl, but had no time to stew over her as Tamlin quickly reefed away from his arms.
“Tamlin-!” Lucien panicked, hands going out to grab him and pull him back.
Tamlin shoved his arms back with an apologetic look before forcing himself up on shaking legs. Lucien got up and went to follow him but slammed into a ward. He cried out as he winced, but it was quickly replaced by terror as he realised Tamlin had warded him back.
‘I’m sorry.’ Tamlin mouthed, before he ran for Amber’s body on the floor.
He knew what he had to do.
If only to get everyone out alive.
Those emeralds, they could absorb power.
Those words Amber had hissed to him in that hallway.
She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”
Enchanted.
Tamlin had been wondering with what, and he finally figured it out.
They could absorb power from others and give that magic to whoever wore them. And Amber had been going to use her emerald to absorb the power of the Cauldron.
The emerald that had been around Feyre’s neck had absorbed the magic that had been keeping her alive, leaving her dead and mortal again. If unleashed, that magic was the equivalent to the most powerful Fae in known history.
What magic did Amber have stored?
Even as Lucien screamed from behind that ward. Tamlin didn’t turn back, but felt as Lucien gave up trying to run and instead focussed his energy on blazing their enemies. Guilt writhed in his core, but he needed to do this and Lucien would try to hold him back.
A guard came out of nowhere and tried to pin him down with his sword. But even if Tamlin was near collapsing he wasn’t a High lord for nothing. Claws shot through his skin almost unannounced and it was nothing to slash his throat and leave him choking on his own blood on the floor.
Tamlin passed the haze of smoke and blood and fire. And finally made it to the darkened corner where Amber was limp on the floor, her breaths shallow but still there, not dead yet. But her face different from the rest of her body, shining faintly, gleaming in the light, as Tamlin put a hand on her forehead, he felt how cold her skin truly was.
Gold.
Her skin had turned to gold.
The Cauldron it seemed, had done a number on her.
Tamlin gave no hesitation as his hands went to her wrist, pulling up her sleeve he saw the emerald bracelet.
Yes.
He went to pull it off, but as he tried to tug it over her hand, her arm shot up.
“Insolent fool.” Amber hissed as she launched up and grabbed his hair, shoving his head to the ground, forehead bashing into the cold stone.
The world went dark for a moment, then he was thrown back into it as she pulled his head back up and went to smash him down again. This time he moved, running on adrenaline and fear.
Twisting back, Tamlin grabbed her robes, then sharply kicked her in the stomach. Amber cried out, but was not quick enough to react as Tamlin sunk his teeth into her throat, ripping with sharpened canines, blood pooled in his mouth and she screamed death in his ear.
“Fuck. You. Witch!” She might as well have been one.
Amber spluttered, vomiting blood, every inch of him burned to finish the job, but as the Cauldron bubbled over once more, spilling more ancient water to the ground, causing more black fire to scorch the ground. He knew he didn’t have much more time.
Grabbing her wrist, it was nothing to snap it. Causing her body to convulse with pain, he let her fall to the ground as he ripped the bracelet off and forced himself back to his feet.
The world faded in and out, Tamlin nearly tripped and fell. He was losing energy quickly. In no time at all he would pass out, and the High lord genuinely didn’t know if he would wake up again.
The closer he got to the Cauldron the more the emerald started to glow, and burn. As it burned into his hands, the pain throbbed through his arms and the added injury ca
used him to nearly lose footing again, it was a miracle he hadn’t fallen again already.
Everything was burning hotter and hotter, the air was suffocating, he could barely see as the room was now little more than black smoke. Another gust of unnatural wind caused by the power of the Cauldron and Tamlin could no longer see.
He coughed and spluttered, but still ran forward, knowing it was somewhere in front of him.
Feeling splashing underfoot, the water that touched his skin burning marks that would scar forever, he knew he was almost there.
Almost there, almost there, almost there-
“There you are, my love.” A cruel male voice hissed as he was grabbed and torn away from the Cauldron.
“No!” Tamlin screamed as he kicked and bucked and thrashed, desperately holding onto the emerald bracelet like a lifeline in a storm.
Dae laughed in his ear as he pulled him back, “I may not have the cursebreakers power, but I will make do with yours.”
Screaming, Dae grabbed the bracelet from his hand and put it to his chest. Whispering something like a spell, a curse or maybe an enchantment, the emerald began to glow, and Tamlin felt himself get weaker and weaker, as the emerald sucked away his magic.
Not now, not when he was so close. They were on the brink of losing or winning.
Losing he realised, they were losing.
Done for.
He went limp as his eyes started to close.
Dae pressed his lips to Tamlin’s ear, cold words seeping into his skin, into his bones, as if they were etched there with a knife, “Did you really think you could outsmart me, Tamlin? Did you think you could win?”
A cruel laugh, “You will see what we do to traitors around here, even if they’re dead.”
The world turned cold once more and Tamlin felt himself slipping in and out of reality, as everything became less and less corporeal.
Dying.
So this was dying.
Why did it have to be so inviting? So loving and tender?
“Please.” He whispered.
Someone.
Anyone.
As he closed his eyes for the final time. Tamlin felt the breath leave his lungs-
“Keep your hands off my mate!”
The black smoke was forced back by magic of another. And there he stood.
Free of the ward which had fallen away as Tamlin’s power was drained. Hands blazing with fire and eyes melted into pools of burning, burning light. Lucien looked like flame personified.
Dae shouted something to his guards, but no one could react quick enough as a blast of fire was shot out at Hybern.
Dae lifted a hand and a ward blocked the attack with ease. He tilted his head back as he laughed in Lucien’s face, “What was that fire lord? At least give me something harder to fight against.”
“He was just the distraction, bitch King.” A delighted voice hissed, before a knife sunk into Dae’s side.
The King screamed as Nesta Archeron stabbed him. Blood poured from his side, but as he raised his hands to grab her neck, he dropped Tamlin to the floor.
It was no matter as Tamlin sprawled, weak and near powerless, against the stone, as he still held the emerald.
Nesta choked as she ripped out the knife, Dae lifted her above the floor with a single hand as she grasped his wrist with both hands, face beginning to turn pink from lack of air.
“Stupid, stupid girl.” He said, as he raised the emerald, it glowed with power as he pressed it to her body, “I wonder what power you took from the Cauldron.”
The knife dropped to the floor, and Tamlin looked up to meet Nesta’s eyes.
Smart, smart girl.
Tamlin grabbed the knife, and in a swift motion stabbed it into Dae’s back.
The High lord barely heard his cry, just watched as his body seized up and released Nesta along with the emerald on instinct.
Even as Dae swung around and grabbed Tamlin, it didn’t matter, because Nesta grabbed the emerald. And threw it through the air.
Dae shouted as he watched the scene unfold, letting Tamlin drop back to the floor and this time he remained there, content with what he had done as he saw what the sisters did.
Elain caught the glowing emerald with a single hand and ran for the Cauldron. Even as Dae bolted after her, he was not near quick enough for Elain, who seemed to disappear behind shimmering air and then reappear by the Cauldron, still running.
As the Cauldron seemed to cry with overflowing magic, Elain held the bracelet over it. Her hands visibly began to burn and blister with the intense heat, but she didn’t back down, didn’t flinch, not even as the burning spread over her arms.
The Cauldron splashed one more time.
And a hand shot up out of it. A pale hand with tattoos covered it, an eye drawn into the centre of her palm. Feyre seized the emerald bracelet as she grabbed the edge of the Cauldron and hauled herself up.
And holding onto her as she was pulled up as well, was Ianthe. Drenched and shivering, but clutching the glowing emerald necklace that Feyre had once had around her neck, to her chest.
The world faded in and out again.
Then hands were on him and Tamlin flinched, but when he looked up, he relaxed. Dark brown eyes bore into his own, red hair falling around them. Lucien’s eyes were flicking all over him. Assessing each part of his body, pulling Tamlin into his arms.
“Hold on.” Lucien begged, “Please hold on, we can win.”
Tamlin smiled weakly at Lucien, as his eyes fell closed.
“I love you.” Tamlin whispered, as all started to drown out.
The last he heard was a petrified scream from his mate as he descended into darkness.
As her hand closed around that bracelet, Feyre felt power flood her veins. Power that was not hers but hers to use so long as the emerald was in her hands. And with Ianthe touching her, Feyre’s emerald in her hands. They were a combined magic. For a moment in time, whilst still in the Cauldron, they were the magic of the Cauldron.
Eyes blazing and bodies alight with magic, Feyre lifted her hand and closed her eyes.
Black, she pulled out the power. Commanding it. Breathe in. She told it to obey.
With the help of the emeralds magic, the power it had sucked it, like a breath held in still lungs, it all blended and merged together. No longer chaotic and refusing to work with each other. Rather it moved like water commanded by the Summer Court magic. Flowing and controlled.
Feyre grinned with bone white teeth as she lifted a clawed hand, and squeezed her fingers into a fist.
“Let all Hell break loose.” She whispered.
And break loose it did.
The soldiers screamed as they were burned with black fire. Their bodies dissolving into ash. Even as the Mortal Queens seemed horrified at the blinding figures emerging from the Cauldron, they ran to continue their killing sweep. Finishing off the last of the soldiers.
Then Feyre turned her attention to Hybern, who lifted his head and grinned. Even as he stumbled to one knee, clutching the wound at his side, as his shirt darkened with blood.
Try me, was what that grin said to her.
Feyre gritted her teeth. Twisting her hand as she forced the magic to move with her. The world around her darkening. The room filling, as light exploded from her form. Like a star in blackened night, she was the magic she commanded.
But as magic was forced onto the King of Hybern, she felt it… start to disappear, rather than make contact with the target.
Oh.
Fuck.
Hybern grinned as he lifted a large emerald amulet, a wall of protecting, keeping his body safe from the attack but absorbing the power.
“No.” Ianthe shook from beside her.
He had an emerald.
“No!” Ianthe screamed, she shoved Feyre out of the Cauldron and fell out with her. Stopping the onslaught of magic so he would gain no more.
Sprawled against the stone cold floors, Feyre coughed and spluttered. Feeling herself weakening as the power she had been controlling calmed again.
Now out of the Cauldron, it stopped its bubbling and settled down.
The smoke still drifted around the room, but now it was silent. As the guard had been killed, and there was no one left to fight.
Stepping out from the haze of black smoke, Hybern grinned at her, his wounds healing over from the magic she had just handed to him on a silver platter.
“You should have stayed in the Cauldron, little girl.” He grinned as he lifted the amulet, it glowed with power and reflected in his cold, cruel eyes.
His hand buried in her hair and forced her neck back, as he placed the emerald on her skin, leaving a branding mark, “Let’s see what power we can steal from you.”
Feyre screamed and writhed as once again she felt power torn from deep within her flesh, the very bindings keeping her together.
But unlike last time, Hybern was cut short.
As someone from behind him screamed, “Don’t you dare ever touch my sister!”
And Elain tackled Hybern to the floor, releasing Feyre from the grip of the emerald.
Elain’s small, untrained body was no match for the King but she fought valiantly anyway. With a scream, she kicked and punched, but not before her hands grabbed the amulet and ripped it free of his grasp. She tossed it to Feyre, and shouted “Run!”
“But-” Big, heavy tears fell down her face as Feyre watched her older sister fight.
“Run Feyre! Get out!” Elain cried as Hybern grabbed her hair and slammed her into the floor.
Feyre didn’t run.
But Ianthe did. She grabbed Feyre by her collar, and in what must have been adrenaline filled strength, dragged her up and forced her to run.
The smoke began to clear. And Feyre finally saw the true extent of the damage.
Rhysand was on the floor, her eyes went to him first. Shaking and gritting his teeth, coughing up blood as he tried to stand on two feet. She screamed when she looked closer as she barrelled forward, and saw that one wing had been completely torn off.
Feyre fell to his side but as she cried, “Rhys-”
He shook his hand and grabbed her arm forcing her to look to the middle of the throne room.
“Not me.” He croaked out, “Get him first.”
“Get who-” Feyre cut herself off with a gasp.
She saw them. She saw them and her chest caved in.
Tamlin lying limp across the floor, his body not moving, his chest not rising or falling. And Lucien hunched over his form, crying and pleading into his neck to come back.
“No.” Feyre whispered.
“Everyone evacuate!” The eldest of the Mortal Queens screamed.
At that same moment, Hybern was bolting for Feyre, eyes blazing with rage. And Elain a bloodied form on the floor behind him, whimpering with pain and just barely holding on.
Ianthe laid eyes on her. And she screamed a scream so agony filled that Feyre could have sworn the room shook.
Abandoning everything else. Ianthe shot Feyre one last look, full of apologies unspoken, before she ran for Elain. Falling to her knees by her side.
Hybern ignored the weeping Priestess as he headed for Feyre, “You think you can get away.”
“Oh I think she can.” Rhysand croaked out.
The King’s eyes went wide as a rage-filled grin split his face, “No she won’t.”
“Yes, she will.” A new voice echoed through the room. One like fire and wind. Bursting through and adding a whole new level of danger.
Eris grinned from the doorways, “Hope I’m not too late to the party.”
“Just in time.” Rhysand smirked.
Hybern laid eyes on the Autumn Heir and snarled, “I suggest running now, Autumn bitch.”
“Great fun, Hybern, just like your General was.” Eris drawled as he drew up fire to his hands. Preparing to launch his own attack.
Hybern grinned, “Let's see what the pretty Autumn boy can do then.”
Eris’s eyes were seething when he lifted his hand and fire descended on Hybern.
Shit.
Everything ached, but she had no time to focus in on it. Not as the room was screaming once more, not as they were being thrown into battle again. Elain couldn’t see well at all. Black edging in and out of her vision, she thought she might collapse at any second.
But slowly, very slowly, she felt the pain of her body disappearing and when she forced her eyes to open properly. She saw her.
And her chest tightened until her lungs couldn’t open or close.
The Priestess, Ianthe they had called her, was kneeling over her. The emerald that had been on Feyre’s neck being pressed into Elain’s chest by her hands, she was whispering a prayer of some kind, forcing the power residing in the stone to heal her.
Elain finally breathed in deep enough that she could move again.
A sob tore through Ianthe’s chest as relief flooded her.
“You’re alive.” Ianthe whispered.
“We won’t be for long.” Elain whispered back as she pointed to the fire show going on before them.
A Fae with short red hair and burning eyes, that looked similar to the red-headed male they had called Lucien, was summoning fire down on the King of Hybern. But nothing could harm him, as Ianthe’s mother, the older Priestess, had quickly rushed in front of him and held up her hands.
Whatever power she had been given from the Cauldron when her head had been under, it allowed her to create a ward strong enough to withstand the onslaught of fire from the Autumn male. But forced them to remain standing still so the others around them could rush out of the throne room.
Elain watched as Feyre met her eyes. Elain nodded and Feyre mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.
Before helping to pick up her mate and run from the throne room. Followed by the two winged warriors and the blonde woman.
Leaving the last of those there.
“We need to get them out of here.” Ianthe said, pointing to the middle of the throne room.
Dead.
She was dead. The fair fae, who had been called Tamlin, was dead in the arms of Lucien. Her blonde hair matted with blood, her dress torn and ruined. Elain gasped at the sight of her swollen womb, the child inside it either dead or dying.
And Lucien wracked with grief, his power and energy drained, was collapsed over her. Begging and praying for a miracle.
They needed to get out.
From across the room, Elain saw another lump of fallen flesh. Nesta coughed and vomited, before forcing herself to her knees, surveying the damage with wide eyes.
Then she looked to Elain. And Elain shuddered at what she saw.
Her sister’s grey eyes, now burning, burning silver.
Nesta looked back at Hybern, and the male forcing fire on them. Starting to weaken.
They had to act right now.
“Go!” Elain shouted.
“But-” Nesta started, moving to go towards Elain.
Elain tried to get to her feet but she fell again. Dizzy and unable to stand up properly, the feeling of her body having been through so much, the emeralds could only undo so much damage.
Ianthe was the one to make the decision, as she tossed Nesta the emerald and screamed, “Go!”
Nesta, for the first time, sobbed, wet tears falling down her face. But she nodded and ran.
But not for the doors.
For Lucien and Tamlin.
She grabbed Lucien by his shoulders and screamed, “Grab her and get up!”
Lucien’s eyes went wide, but as if his body was not his own anymore, he obeyed and scooped Tamlin into his arms. Forcing himself up on shaking legs that were even worse that Elain’s. And went for the door.
Thank God.
Elain’s head tipped back as darkness engulfed her.
Nesta was running on burning, burning legs. Every muscle was rigid, she felt everything and nothing at the same time and it was torment.
But nothing could stop her as she forced herself forward and forward. The fox haired male beside her, cheeks tear-stained and cradling the body of his dead mate.
She wanted to look behind her, just to catch a glimpse of her sister, but knew she couldn’t, that she had to get out now. She had the emerald and they needed that to remain out of Hybern’s hands.
The exit was right before them. They were almost out.
A little more.
Lucien passed through the doors and as soon as he was gone from the spelled room, he disappeared into thin air, along with his dead mate.
And Nesta.
Nesta was grabbed and thrown to the floor.
The Fire Fae that had been pelting down flame on Hybern and the Priestess that served him had collapsed in a heap on the ground. Fully spent, with barely enough energy to breathe.
“No!”
She had been so close.
“You stupid whore!” Hybern screamed in her ear as he went to grab the emerald.
“Fuck you!” Nesta screamed as she fisted the emerald, and it burned in her hands.
Then something rage-filled, and hot rolled through her core in dark waves.
And Hybern was screaming and Nesta’s vision was white with flames.
Flames that came from her own hands.
Shit.
Silver, it filled the room, dancing along the stone floor. Burning the King and his Priestess, sending them sprawling back against the scorching stone.
She had no time to revel in her own victory, Nesta clutched the emerald which absorbed the power she could not control herself. Running for the unconscious Fae male.
In a moment of pure fear, strength came to her. She grabbed him and slung his arm around her shoulder, running from the throne room.
“Wake up!” She begged, still he remained limp.
With no other choice, or place to run to as she left the spelled throne room. Heading new guards, the armies rushing into the castle. Filling the place with shouting and the sound of steel being unsheathed.
Nesta put the emerald to the male’s chest like she had witnessed happen and forced magic through it.
“Come on!” She shouted.
The emerald pulsed, the sound of footsteps quicked.
“Please, please, please.” She begged.
He gasped in air as his eyes opened. The green a scorching liquid amber colour.
“Well hello.” He rasped out.
“Get us out of here!” Nesta ordered.
As he looked around and saw new soldiers beginning to rush in through the hallways. He nodded, “Of course, my Lady.”
And they were gone.
When Elain woke up, it was because chains were being wrapped around her body and she was being hauled to her feet.
Head spinning she didn’t know where to look. Maybe Hybern’s half scorched face, maybe Ianthe’s mother, whom she quickly realised was called Amber, when a guard referred to her as such, and her golden face.
Ianthe was silent as she too was put in chains.
Elain didn’t know how long it had been, but it must have been not more than a few minutes, as the bodies of soldiers were still out. And the mess of the battle was still visible.
“Dungeons.” Hybern hissed.
Amber grinned, “With pleasure.
They were walked down dark tunnels that only got darker. The cold seeping in through the walls and into Elain’s skin. She kept her head low but watched Ianthe in front of her through her eyelashes.
Eventually they were led to a large metal door, it swung open with a loud creak and inside could be seen two male guards.
Ianthe stopped in place, as if waiting for Elain to be put in first. But then, Amber tsked, her grin widening as she said, “You’ll go in first, Ianthe.”
There was a moment of silence as the guards then forced the Priestess forward.
In a heartbeat.
Ianthe screamed. A raw sound that tore her throat, nose bleeding from the severity of her crying out. The red streamed down her face as her eyes too began to bleed from her never ending sobbing.
She screamed to the roof, neck stretching up and head fallen back. The Priestess writhed against her chains, clinging to a threshold, as the guards tried to drag her into a room, into a dungeon.
Elain was behind her. Watching with teary eyes of her own, as the robed female scabbed at threshold. Her arms strained, hands beginning to tear.
“Please.” Elain flinched at the tearing screech in her voice.
“This is your punishment,” Amber said to her daughter, as she smiled from behind them, “Your vows were forsaken when you betrayed me.”
Ianthe let out a gut-wrenching cry as she turned her eyes to the sky, “Mother of creation and Cauldron-”
“Do not beg.” Ianthe’s mother crooned. “The Goddess will not save you.”
Ianthe was sobbing, her cries making her voice shake and her prayer barely coherent, “I have been your loyal subject. Save me from staining. Save me please.”
“You defile us by your unworthy prayers.” Amber spat, “You will break your vows today by entering under a roof with only a male. The Mother will punish you with eternal flame and suffering. You are no Priestess.”
“Save me please, Mother, I have done nothing wrong.” Ianthe shrieked, as her fingers began to slip and the guards dragged her inside-
Elain leapt forward, her sudden, sharp burst of movement shocking the guards enough that she slipped from their grip.
She hit the ground, and felt her arm shatter as it hit the floor. But she managed to dive into the room. Hitting a set of stairs and screaming as she almost tumbled down them, only just digging her nails into the wall and stopping herself from falling.
Elain Archeron managed to get through the threshold just before Ianthe was thrown in.
There was a terrifying shriek of anger from the Lady Amber outside, but Ianthe collapsed to the floor, face smeared with her own blood, tears and mucus. Her breaths were too quick and shallow, hyperventilating as she cried more on the floor.
Elain went forward quickly. Her arm screaming with fiery pain but the adrenaline was enough for her to ignore it.
With one arm, Elain managed to pull a sobbing Ianthe into her arms, holding her close.
“You are okay.” Elain whispered, “You did not break your vows.”
Ianthe opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by gasping that was getting quicker and quicker as panic was still flooding through her. Elain could feel tears in her own eyes, but she hugged the female tighter, “Priestess.” She whispered, “Your Goddess had mercy, Priestess, she has not forsaken you.”
“My merciful Goddess.” Ianthe whispered into Elain’s skin.
Elain ignored how that declaration felt more like it was directed at Elain herself rather than unseeable God.
I’ll give over my soul. I sacrifice myself. I’ll gut myself on your alter. I throw my body into the sea. Just please, Mother, bring him back to me.
Lucien recited his prayers over and over, and over, and over. Yet Tamlin’s body in his arms remained limp. Unmoving, not breathing.
Water from the beach lapped against his knees. Causing his body to shiver from the cold. The crying of birds watching them was the only noise for a while. Lucien cried into Tamlin’s hair. One hand wrapped around him and the other going to his womb. Resting on the child they would have had, the baby they could have been blessed with.
What would they have looked like?
Blonde hair, blue eyes? Brown hair, green eyes?
A little girl? A little boy?
Lucien cried harder into Tamlin’s hair.
The mating bond, it had snapped into place as Lucien had watched Hybern lay his hands down upon him. The fire that had leapt up in him had been nothing compared to the hatred and anger he had been engulfed with.
But as soon as he was given it, it was ripped away.
Sobbing, barely coherent, barely even there at all. Lucien looked at that lovely face. Blood drying on the corner of his plush lips. Skin still so divine, even if paler now. Lucien threaded his hands through Tamlin’s hair and untangled some of the knots gently.
Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s cheek, then the other, then his temple, then his nose, then the crown of his head. Like it was just another lazy morning in bed, like Tamlin would laugh as he woke. Like Tamlin would open his big green eyes and smile up at him once again.
Please bring him back, please I can’t live without him.
Please.
Please, anybody.
Lucien’s chest heaved and shuddered again as a cry was torn from his again. Rocking his love, his High lord, his Tamlin, back and forth. Like he was just sleeping, just asleep, nothing more. He would awaken. He always did.
“Lucien.” A cracked voice said from behind him. Lucien snapped his eyes up and he saw her.
Feyre, with her beautiful face, scattered with freckles, her brown hair stuck and clinging to her face.
“This is your fault!” Lucien screamed with every last bit of strength in his weak body.
Her eyes went wide and her face scrunched up as she fell to her knees crying.
“If you had just come back, he wouldn’t be dead.” Lucien cried, his words near incoherent from his sobbing.
But even through his cries and screams. Even through Feyre’s relentless sobs.
Tamlin stayed still.
Fully and utterly dead.
__________________________________________________
Whoops I ended it on an angsty note.
I swear Tamlin lives; I promise the story doesn't end here.
#acotar#pro tamlin#tamlin#tamlin's daughter#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#tamcien#feyre archeron#rhysand#feysand#azriel shadowsinger#cassian#elain archeron#ianthe acotar#religious lesbian icon ianthe#elanthe#nesta archeron#pro nesta archeron#pro elain archeron#eris vanserra#pro eris vanserra#morrigan acotar#the mortal queens acotar#the king of hybern#neris#acotar headcanons#acotar au#jurian acotar#the band of exiles#the court of dreamers
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Drunk Christmas
Pairing: Slash x reader
Requested by @gloomy-blonde
Summary: You and Slash are invited to a Christmas party, but after a short while, he gets drunk. Way too drunk.
Tags: alcohol, Christmas, fluff
Words: 651
A/N: My favourite drunk trope is the sappy drunk trope in case you couldn't tell
Tag list: @warriorteam1924 @slashscowboyboots @losers-yurio @lost-in-the-80s @jennyggggrrr @tuffduff @jonesyownsmyheart @rhyetaylor62 @smells-like-perfect-senses @whered0wego @rumoured-whispers @th0mas-jerome-newton @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @dumbass-of-darkness @cherry-jams
Tip me if you want!
You were invited to a Christmas party and of course, you took your boyfriend Slash with you. There were going to be some friends and acquaintances you hadn't seen in a while and you were very excited to finally introduce him to them all.
The party started off really well, many people recognized you and were happy to see you, everyone was asking about who the man you brought with you was - even people you originally didn't know yourself but they knew your friends, and you all got to catch up on each other's lives. The Christmas music playing in the background wasn't the same five songs that were overplayed at every shopping mall, the food was good, the decorations were pretty, there weren't any fights like at most family gatherings - perfect so far.
While you only had a few glasses of mulled wine over the course of the evening because that's what you do at Christmas parties, your boyfriend kept going to the bar more frequently - and he didn't stick with only wine, either.
This led to him being drunk after only a little over an hour. Way too drunk, actually. Not quite embarrassing, but also not the normal blood alcohol level you usually have at this kind of event. You were just thankful that tonight the horny drunk side of him didn't prevail, but rather the sappy drunk side.
You noticed him grinning at you for a while and you turned your head to look at him, slightly raising your eyebrow as you waited for what he wanted to say. "Mistletoe kiss?"
"We can't have a mistletoe kiss when there isn't a mistletoe."
"Imagine one. Gimme a kiss," he insisted, leaning closer to you and puckering his lips.
"Not now," you said, trying to continue the conversation one of your friends had started with you earlier.
He backed away, his eyes wide. "Oh God, you're taken!"
"I am," you said after a pause, realizing that he really was too drunk now.
Following your statement, Slash stayed silent, an empty look in his eyes. You took this opportunity to answer the question you had been asked a couple of minutes ago.
However, you didn't get very far because after a moment, he put his arm around you and started kissing your cheek and burying his face in your neck. You rolled your eyes, although you secretly found his behavior adorable.
As it got late, the other guests were getting more and more annoyed, even if they tried not to show it too much because they didn't want to offend you and about everyone here knew what it was like to be drunk and act stupid.
"I think Slash and I are gonna go home," you excused yourself, taking his hand and getting up from the sofa before you started saying your goodbyes to the people you knew. "It was so nice to see you all again, have a great rest of the night!"
Outside you walked around the street corner to find a quieter place. You had come by car, but you didn't want to drive after the couple of drinks you had. Besides, you couldn't have Slash bothering you in the passenger seat while you were trying to drive without causing an accident.
"Let's get you home, love," you sighed after you hung up and started waiting for the taxi.
He nodded and after a pause, he said quietly, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you."
You brushed some hair out of his face and cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes. "Baby… you didn't embarrass me, it's okay. They've been drunk before too, I have lots of stories to tell about their clubbing days in college," you laughed, trying to cheer him up a little.
Slash smiled at that too, blinking before giving you a kiss on the lips. "I love you," he slurred, but you knew he meant it.
#mel writes#slash#slash x reader#slash imagine#slash fic#saul hudson#saul hudson x reader#saul hudson imagine#saul hudson fic#guns n roses#guns n roses x reader#guns n roses imagine#guns n roses fic
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OOO what about a Dark Fey reader like Maleficent? that was being hunted down by a dangerous group of cryptid hunters, and had a broken wing n wounded by iron bullets but kept running.
And the Creeps found them took em in. and since ferfolk cannot lie,.. caught them off guard with a question on how they felt about that creep 😉
I expect to see Slenderman!👁👁 and another ig👍plz
idk I rarely see Supernatural like readers, it's a little disappointing imo. I love powerful self-inserts ok?
Slenderman with a Fey!S/o
UWAAAA I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this !! I've kinda been sucked up in a bunch of irl stuff !! (Nothing serious, just me working on things)!!
Admittedly I have never watched maleficent; so I'll solely be going off the info given in this ask I hope that's alright ☝️😔 and I apologize in advance if it's no good 😭💔
As you specifically brought up slenderman, he's gonna be our star today!! I was originally going to do the full list of characters but my brain js
A raisin
Also also!! I totally get what you mean ab the shortage of supernatural readers!!! Not just in the creepypasta fandom; but really any fandom! Let the insert have powers, let them be super strong, ect ect !!
You'd stumble into him after trying to hide and take shelter in his woods
Normally, he'd take down any trespassers after stalking them for a bit; but he was just too curious about you to make that the case
I dont know, I always think of slenderman to carry that kind of curiosity about the world and other creatures; I feel like that makes him more interesting than the fandoms standard "stern and oddly fatherly" take... also I just live the idea of curious cryptids!!
Moving on
He'd help patch you up with the resources in the forest; I've seen mixed opinions on whether or not slenderman has weird healing powers but personally; I think he has regen abilities that can only be applied to himself! Unrelated to the ask I know, but a quick little fun aside and little bonding point for him and s/o if they have the same deal going on
As for shelter? I'm personally still on the fence on if I wanna make the manor thing a part of my personal universe and hc that I write for these silly lads; but rn I've settled for a version of it! Not as grand or tidy as the old fandom hyped it up to be; it's a lil smaller and kinda... run down
Still livable, though, and you're more than welcome inside if you need somewhere to stay
Granted, I'm not entirely sure how the topic of romance would be brought up with him, but let's say he picks up on some behavior from you that makes him start putting together a picture
Bro has zero rizz I'm sorry
Regardless, he eventually asks the question; and as the rules go, you're kinda forced to tell him how you feel
I think regardless of if he reciprocates or expected your answer, he'd be surprised
I mean how many people are out here flirting with a forest monster, to their face
I think it could work, honestly! The relationship I mean!! I wish i had more hcs since this is such a fun idea, but I genuinely dont know much about fairy stuff and all the lore regarding them
But onto some more side hcs/little ideas to make up for the lack of stuff !!
If you need comfort, about the whole being hunted thing, slenderman is a good listener; and he understands what it's like, bro probably has to deal with people trying to get a look at him all the time. He gets it
Want revenge on them? Well if the hunters followed you into the woods they probably wont last long anyways; despite the whole curiosity thing he can be... rather territorial
Day to day life with slenderman is interesting as is, but with a fellow non-human companion? Shenanigans will likely ensue
What kind? Cant say, due to my lack of knowledge 😔☝️
Too injured to move around on your own? If you need to go somewhere slenderman will either fetch it for you, or just carry you to where you gotta go
Also he totally wont make it habit; even before the romantic relationship is fully formed
It just activates his neurons 😔
#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#slenderman x reader#slenderman imagine#slenderman headcanons#creepypasta slenderman#slenderman
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Alright, list of headcanons/ideas/hopes for The Owl House cast after Belos is defeated and locked away or dead due to his own ambitions (give me your additions and thoughts, I will if I come up with more):
The Portal Door is recreated, but kept a secret from all human realm dwellers (sans Camilla and Vee). Luz travels back and forth between realms regularly, and sometimes, people tag along with her. She introduces demon realm culture to her family, and human world culture to her second family.
By extension, Gus indulges in human culture with ecstasy! He plans to one day foster a mindset where the demon realm can be well received by humans. However, he acknowledges that not all humans are open to the idea quite yet. In the meantime, he visits zoos for giraffe feedings and travels to major cities to visit prestigious museums. He shows off a lot of his findings, replicating them with illusions, and he inspires fascination with the other world across the entire Boiling Isles.
Luz fulfills her secondary dream of becoming a an author. She writes a narrative about her childhood AND her time in the Boiling Isles. In the human realm, it’s a best-selling fictional narrative about coming of age, found family, and trust. In the demon realm, it’s still a best-seller, but it’s treated as it really is: an autobiography and primary source from the rebellion against the tyrant, Emperor Belos.
Luz actually publishes additions to the original work, including additional history and other primary sources (like a replica of Darius’ draining spell diagram, sheet music for “Raine’s Rhapsody,” Luz’s various artworks regarding the major plot). The sources were put together with cool aunt Lilith’s assistance. In the human realm, she is, unfortunately, credited as anonymous for the sake of witch kind.
Eda and Raine get married. This one’s just a given. Luz helps plan it, and it’s very human and witchy at the same time. It makes Eda happy to see Luz happy, so she and Raine go along with a lot of the plans. Lilith is maid of honor, while Luz and Amity are both bridesmaids. Darius is the best man, and he gives a surprisingly tender speech about his friendship with Raine while also roasting the hell out of them. He doesn’t cry (he does cry). Hunter is a spouse’s man. So are the BATTs. Willow handles the flora. King and Eberwolf are flower girls. Hooty is the ring bearer, to everyone’s chagrin.
Eda remains an excellent mother and wild witch. She continues her life pretty normally, flaunting her prowess and scamming people (teaming up with Edric more often). She is treated with more respect, and she’s seen as a champion for those with life-altering curses. She helps those affected with one live with it, telling how she learned to accept her own.
King begins seeking out the history and real strength of Titans, learning to fully embrace his lineage. He also strives to help others treat “idols” with respect and empathy.
Raine goes back to being the teacher they wanted to be originally! They apply to be a bard teacher at Hexside, so they can give good education to Hexside students. All of the Bard-track students brag about how good Professor Whispers-Clawthorne is. They teach their students the whistle trick, and they all swear to not share the trick with others. They never do. They keep an orange flower in a pot on their windowsill at all times. Before moving in with Eda, they fly/walk with Hunter to school everyday.
Speaking of Hunter, he enrolls at Hexside. The environment there made him feel unsafe, but in the safer way! The people there are good to him, too. The teachers love having him in class because of his utter passion for learning. Like Luz, the curious overachiever, he tries to study all the tracks at once. Principal Bump, still in charge, takes quite a liking to him. In addition to participating in Flyer Derby with the Emerald Entrails, he joins the Clawthornes and Bat Queen and volunteers to help with Palisman adoptions, helping those like his beloved Flapjack find good matches for themselves after tragedy.
Darius’s excellent skincare routine can only do so much. Eventually, being middle aged catches up to him. Barely. He develops smile lines on his cheeks. At first, he frets a bit. But he gets used to them eventually. After all, it’s just a sign that he’s been laughing more. He does play a major role in Hunter’s life, primary caretaker or not.
Willow proceeds as Captain of the Emerald Entrails. After she graduates from Hexside, while most of the others move on for other things (Hunter still holds a passion for the game and keeps at it with her for longer), she continues with the sport! Not only does she go on to the big leagues as an adult, as the witch she wants to be, but she’s basically an inspiration to other young witches. She campaigns proudly for the sport, hoping that it will one day be just as embraced as Grudgby and that others can use it as a mental outlet.
Lilith strives to right Belos’s and Flora’s wrongs. She publishes book after book debunking Belos’s praise and the incorrect history he wrote. She makes exhibits in museums about the culture that was lost on the Isles, hoping that truthful education will encourage others to embrace the good parts. She also eventually accepts Steve’s therapy recommendation and learns not to undervalue herself to so-called superiors.
This is all I can think of right now! I’ll probably add more eventually, and I want to hear other ideas too.
#the owl house#toh#the owl house spoilers#toh spoilers#the owl house headcanon#toh headcanon#toh speculation#the owl house speculation#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#king clawthorne#raine whispers#gus porter#willow park#lilith clawthorne#hunter toh#darius toh
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