#sometimes they try to make it look like tender and magical things are in some way connected to their gross rethoric
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"Astarion and I had a conversation about you once," Ciro says, seemingly apropos of nothing. They're stoking the fire higher in the hearth to ward away the chill in the air. Astarion is in the bath, which he'd promptly claimed for the next 'hour--no, two. Actually, just come check that I haven't drowned if you don't see me before bed'. Gale is sitting on the bed, making a face at the way it squeaks, even though the three of them have stayed in much worse places than this.
"Do I want to know?" Gale asks, and Ciro can feel him watching them. They've grown to learn the differences between the way Gale and Astarion look at them, though they both manage to convey their own hungry sort of awe with just their eyes.
Ciro smiles and feeds another small, neatly split log into the fireplace. "It wasn't bad. It was complimentary even. For Astarion."
"Oh, I'm sure that was interesting. Tell me."
The bed squeaks, and Ciro turns to see Gale lounging. He's shucked off his outer robe, and is just in a tunic and pants. For a man who looks so good in finery, Ciro thinks they might like him best when he's dressed down and comfortable. He looks more approachable then. More touchable.
"It was a little while after he bit me for the first time," Ciro explains. "And he was saying that after tasting me, he was wondering what the rest of our group might taste like. I think he compared you to a fine, well aged brandy."
Gale's eyebrows lift and something sparks in his eyes. It's curiosity, the same light he gets when he's about to spend the next few hours buried in books, chasing down some obscure spell or reference.
"Really?" he asks. "That is high praise from Astarion."
"I told you." Ciro smiles and comes to join him on the bed. It's going to be a tight fit for the three of them, but when the inn keeper offered them two rooms to divide up, they'd quickly declined. "I agreed that you'd probably taste very good."
Gale's cheeks go pink, and Ciro laughs softly. For a man who can weave erotic magic like no one they've ever met before, sometimes the simplest things make him blush. And maybe that makes sense. Maybe Gale has spent so much time with the grand and the ethereal that the small and mundane still manage to catch him off guard.
It bodes well for Ciro then, small and mundane as they are.
"What is it like?" Gale asks, sitting up on his elbows. "When he bites you?"
"It hurts," Ciro answers truthfully. "But that part is over quick. Then it just feels sort of...warm. Woozy. But Astarion always makes it a seduction. You know how he is." Gale nods. "He's good at distracting me from the pain of it and making it into something more tender."
Gale's eyes are very warm now, lit by the firelight and the heat of his curiosity and desire. "What does he do?" he murmurs. "Paint me a picture."
"That's not my thing." Of the three of them, Ciro is the worst with words, but they try anyway. "He kisses the spot where he bites me, and his hands wander. I don't really think about the pain when he's stroking me...you know."
Now their cheeks are on fire, a splash of red across their pink skin. Gale is still gazing at them intently, like he's expecting more, and Ciro feels the heat from the fire and the thump thump thump of their heart.
"Words are all well and good, Gale darling," a drawling voice interrupts them. "But they're no comparison to the richness of experience. Wouldn't you agree?"
Astarion emerges from the separate bathing area, draped in nothing but low slung pants. His pale skin glistens in the firelight, and his hair is damp and even curlier from the steam. He looks like a treat, but then, he always does.
He catches Ciro looking and smiles, small and tender, before winking at them.
"You ah-- You might have a point," Gale says, clearing his throat. "And I have been thinking about it."
"Really?" Astarion's eyebrows climb up his forehead. "I...didn't think you were interested."
"I wasn't. At first. Not that I'm opposed to you feeding yourself, of course, but Ciro had it well covered, and. Well, I'll admit I was being a bit of a baby about the pain aspect of it. But Ciro makes it sound very intriguing. And I've seen the way they look when you're finished with them."
"How I look? How do I look?" Ciro asks, glancing between the two of them.
"Soft, sleepy," Gale says at the same time Astarion purrs, "Ruined."
It's enough to make them blush darker, and then groan, falling face first into one of the pillows on the bed. "You're the worst," they mumble.
"Which of us are you talking to?" Astarion wants to know.
"Take your pick."
He chuckles, a low, rolling sound that does things to Ciro's body and their heart. It's not fair that he's so casually attractive. Or that Ciro is so easily flustered.
"Leave them alone," Gale says fondly.
"Alright, I'll turn my attention back to you then," Astarion replies. "Are you actually interested in seeing what it's like? I won't be offended if it's more of an...idle curiosity."
Gale is quiet for a moment, and Ciro can practically hear him thinking. "I suppose I should try it, shouldn't I? I can hardly be involved with a vampire without letting a little blood every now and then, right?"
"Well, you could. It's hardly a requirement. But I won't deny that I am still ravenously curious to find out what you taste like."
Ciro snorts into the pillow at the word choice and gets poked in the side for their trouble. Their men and their drama.
"We'll call it an experiment, shall we?" Gale declares. "I'll try it, and if I don't like it, no harm, no foul."
"No harm, no foul," Astarion agrees. "I should have done this better when it was my first time with Ciro. You won't be offended if I make this a little more romantic for our dear Gale, will you, pet?"
Ciro sits up and finds Astarion looking at them intently. It's an honest question, they realize, from the way Astarion looks at them and the little furrow of anxiety between his brows.
"I won't be offended," they promise him. "You've more than made up for it."
Astarion smiles, reaching for Ciro's hand to kiss the back of it before sweeping around the room. He grabs one of the chairs from the little side table and puts it near the fire, then stands in the center of their rented room with his hands on his hips. His eyes flick back to Ciro, and a smile plays around his lips.
"Could I trouble you to help me?" he asks. "Gale isn't as...familiar with pain as you are. It might help if he had a distraction." There's a mischievous glint to his eyes, and he picks up one of the pillows from the bed and lays it in front of the chair.
Ciro catches on to Astarion's meaning before Gale does, and they smile, sliding off the bed. They kiss Astarion's cheek, leaning into him for a moment. "I can be distracting," they murmur.
"You certainly can."
"I--oh," Gale says, finally catching on.
"Indeed. Come sit," Astarion drawls, gesturing to the chair.
Gale practically scrambles to obey, sitting down in the chair, legs spread. Ciro slides in gracefully, sinking down to their knees on the pillow. It's clear that Gale is nervous, from the way he's shifting and his eyes darting back and forth. Ciro can't pretend they didn't feel the same when they did this for the first time, but they've all come a long way since then.
"Breathe," they murmur to Gale. They slide their hands up his thighs, fingers massaging the muscles there. "We'll take care of you."
"Yes," Astarion agrees, moving in behind the chair. His long, elegant fingers slide over Gale's shoulders and down to his chest. "You are ours to look after."
"Alright." Gale takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and his posture relaxes. He sits back in the chair and tips his head back to regard Astarion. "I'm ready."
"Hm, not yet, I think," Astarion murmurs. "Ciro?"
That's their cue. With an ease borne of practice, Ciro walks their fingers up Gale's thighs even more and starts unlacing his pants. Gale lifts his hips enough that Ciro can drag the garment down, freeing Gale's cock. He's already on his way to being hard, but it never does take much to get Gale going when the two of them are involved.
Ciro glances to Astarion, to make sure he's comfortable with this amount of sexual contact happening right in front of him. It comes and goes these days, and sometimes he wants to be involved, while sometimes he'd rather not be in the room at all. But now there's a honeyed warmth to his eyes, and a slow, pleased smile tucked into the corners of his mouth.
He catches Ciro looking and inclines his head a little, in answer to the silent question.
"Focus on me," Ciro murmurs to Gale, one hand wrapping around his cock to stroke it slowly.
Gale's eyes are riveted on Ciro as he sucks in a deep breath, hips already bucking minutely up into Ciro's touch. Ciro grazes his thumb over the head of Gale's cock, gathering the growing wetness from the tip to spread down as he keeps working him up.
Astarion keeps his hands on Gale too, fingers dipping under the open collar of his shirt, dancing over his collarbones.
"Ciro's beautiful on their knees, don't you think?" Astarion purrs into Gale's ear. It must have an effect because Gale's dick twitches in Ciro's hand. "So very eager and obedient. So ready to please you. To please us both."
There's so much promise in that tone of voice, and it catches Ciro up in it too, making them swallow hard.
"Perhaps we'll both indulge in how good you must taste tonight," Astarion says, and Ciro dips their head to lick a hot stripe up Gale's cock.
"Ah," Gale moans. His hands are wrapped around the arms of the chair, a white knuckled grip as Ciro and Astarion work him up between them.
"Yes, very good," Astarion continues, and Ciro doesn't know which one of them he's praising. They suppose it doesn't really matter.
They ease their mouth over the head of Gale's cock and then take him all the way down to the root. Not having a gag reflex has come in handy many a time with their lovers, especially Gale, who is surprisingly well endowed.
They hold it there for a moment, taking in the feeling of Gale in their mouth, the way the head of him hits the back of their throat, the way they can feel the tension climbing in his body.
Then they pull off, sucking in a gasp of air before going back to it.
Astarion just waits. Watches. Occasionally offers praise in his low, seduction edged voice. When Ciro glances up, they can tell that Astarion is thumbing Gale's nipple under his shirt, and that Gale is sprawled in the chair, almost boneless with pleasure.
"If you keep this up--" Gale chokes out. "I am not likely to--ah! I'm not likely to last."
"That is the goal," Astarion says. He sounds a bit breathless now, but is otherwise composed. Ciro knows that if they looked into his eyes there would be a million different emotions in them, but they focus on their task, sucking Gale down and swirling their tongue around the head of his cock.
He leaks a salty drip, which Ciro laps up eagerly, letting themself get lost in it. Gale's little moans of pleasure are almost musical, and Ciro knows from experience that he's beautiful when he falls apart.
He's close now, Ciro can taste it, and apparently Astarion can too because he chooses that moment to bite him. Ciro hears his voice, a low, "Breathe, love," and then Gale's gasping sharply.
Ciro looks up, but it's not pain on Gale's face. At least not entirely. He looks like he's in a harsh sort of ecstasy, sharp and brutal, but like he's enjoying every second of it. His body arches a bit, and Astarion keeps a hold of him, not letting him buck too hard.
He's learned, from his time feeding on Ciro, how to really refine this art. How to walk the line between pain and pleasure, and wait for the moment when the two can blend together beautifully.
Gale's there now, wrapped up in it, and Ciro has just enough time to pull back a bit before Gale comes undone, coming hard in their mouth.
Ciro works him through it, licking him clean before they pull off. Astarion pulls away a moment later, dragging his tongue over the small drips of blood that have spilled down Gale's neck. He presses a kiss, tender and soft, to Gale's neck, and then lets out a pleased sigh.
"Well?" Ciro asks, sitting back on their heels. "Was it everything you expected?"
Astarion smiles, and he almost looks drunk with it. "And more, darling. We were right, all that time ago. He's positively exquisite."
"I'm flattered," Gale says. "And spent."
"It's a very good look for you," Astarion tells him.
Between the three of them, they manage to bank the fire and move their way to bed in various states of undress. By an unspoken agreement, Gale gets the middle, and Astarion and Ciro curl up on either side of him. It is a tight fit, but Ciro has never complained about having to huddle close with these two.
It's several minutes later when Astarion speaks again. "Was that...was it alright?"
Gale chuckles and turns his head to kiss the tip of Astarion's nose. "'Alright' doesn't do it justice in the least. That was an experience. One I would be happy to repeat, if you're all willing."
"Count me in," Ciro murmurs sleepily.
"I suppose I could be convinced," Astarion replies, and he sounds very pleased behind the flippant words.
"Then it's settled."
Like so many things between the three of them, it comes down to a conversation and mutual agreement, and Ciro smiles, happy and eager to see where life leads them next.
#bg3#astarion#gale of waterdeep#astarion x gale#astarion x tav x gale#noah oc: ciro#noah plays with words#bg3 spoilers#no idea what their ship name is or even if they have one#but i was seized with the urge to write this#beware of smut here
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This Love - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter One
Summary: The Blip took away your most important person, but when Wanda returns, you need time to heal from the loss of other Avengers. You do that in space, and when you come back, it's the Scarlet Witch who welcomes you.
Warnings: (+16) mild angst with happy ending, mutual pining, friends to lovers, mentions of past abusive relationships, some make-out and kissing, with fluff confessions, reader being a little shit who teases Wanda for fun, hurt/comfort, general fluff | Words: 7.707k
A/N-> Instead of getting a decent amount of sleep, I wrote this until two in the morning. The story has the same vibe as the powerpoint one, it's just me trying to fix the canon and give Wanda some love. I hope you like my attempts at humor as well. I may have also written a smut during a work meeting, but it's really short so I don't know if anyone would like to read it. Good luck with this one for now.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist
--//--
No matter how many times you took a deep breath and tried the knot again, your fingers were still shaky and you kept failing.
With a frustrated sigh of resignation, your tie fell open against your chest and you stared at your reflection.
The vivid flashes of the battle popped into your head in the same second, and you sighed again, lowering your face for a moment.
Wanda knocked on the half-open door.
"Hey, are you ready?" her voice was weak and tired but gentle. No matter how tired she was, Wanda was always gentle with you. This was one of the things you loved most about her. "No, I'm fighting with my tie." You mumble annoyed like a child. Wanda smiles, however, moving away from the door to approach you.
You both know that she could charm the knot with a simple movement, and yet, neither of you steps aside.
"It's a nice suit." Wanda comments and you blink away from counting her freckles, shifting the weight of your feet and smiling at the way she gives a warning tug on your tie.
"It was Tony's." You confess in a whisper, and her touch hesitates, her eyes returning to yours in search of any discomfort. You swallow dryly and lower your head. "All my things were in the compound. I wanted to wear something special, and Tony was the only one who had a house..."
"I understand." Wanda interrupts you gently because she realizes that you are about to cry. She offers you a tender smile and pats the knot. "There you go. It suits you."
You give her a weak smile, nodding softly.
"Come on, Wands. It wouldn't be polite to be late for a wake." You joke, getting a small chuckle out of her that is enough to keep you going for the rest of the ceremony.
It's all so heartbreaking. Thanos took everything from you, even if the Avengers won this time. When the memorial was over, you saw Wanda talking with Clint from a distance, but you didn't join them. You were finishing the final arrangements with a certain Nordic god. Wanda came to meet you sometime later in the kitchen when the house was almost completely empty and Happy had taken Morgan out for hamburgers. And Tony's body had already turned to ashes.
Her presence in the room pushes your thoughts away from that.
"Hey, stranger." She greets you with a humorous nickname. It makes you smile. You return a frame to the shelf - the photo of the Stak Expo you showed Peter before he left, so the boy would have some idea of how much Tony really cared about him - before looking at the approaching redhead.
"Hey, magic fingers, are you hungry?" You ask and get a weak laugh at her nickname. You bypass Wanda to walk to the kitchen and she turns around, leaning on the counter to watch you.
"I'm not sure." She says truthfully. "I'm not in the mood for food, but I think the last time I ate anything was dry crackers on the Quinjet on the way to Wakanda. That was about..."
"Five years ago." You complete with a chuckle that makes Wanda sigh.
"Yeah. Five years." She agrees sadly. You stare at her for a full moment before clearing your throat and starting to move.
"I will prepare your favorite then." You say and politely ignore her comments that you don't have to until Wanda smiles in appreciation.
It is strange to have her back. You both know that this moment is fragile and superficial. There are wounds in your relationship that started before Thanos but got worse after him.
"Something's bothering you." Wanda declares into the silence that has settled after several minutes of small talk and light jokes, as you step aside to wash the dishes of the delicious dinner you have prepared for the two of you. Wanda returns to her original position, her back resting on the counter as you lather up the sponge with your back to her.
"I have to tell you something, but I don't know how to say it." That's how you respond, sincere though not so direct. There was no reason to deny to your telepathic best friend that you were anxious. She could literally feel it.
Wanda lets out a small laugh, "Just say it at once." She suggests. "Like ripping off a band-aid."
Her joke gets a short laugh out of you. Both plates are cleared before you sigh and say. "Thor is leaving and he invited me to go with him again. This time I said yes."
There is a big pause. You both let it stretch out as long as it can, each waiting for the other's reaction. The dishes are cleared and you wipe your fingers on the dishcloth before turning away. Wanda has not moved from her seat but is looking at a point on the wall, twirling the rings on her fingers with a distant expression.
You swallow dryly and decide to explain why, imitating her position of leaning her back on a surface, in your case on the sink behind you.
"Wands, I know for you it's like no time has passed. But for me, a lot of shit has happened in those five years." You start trying to keep the emotion under control, although you could already feel your eyes burning. "I lost you. And Sam, and Bucky, and Peter. I was devastated. I know we didn't have time to talk about it, but it was bad Wands. I just...lost myself on some levels. You must have heard the whispers about Clint, or I don't know, you may have even been able to read what people were thinking and you know what he did as Ronin was bad and I guarantee you that I did infinitely worse things."
"I don't mind-" Wanda tries but you deny it with your head, your eyes full of tears.
"But I mind." You interrupt with a tearful laugh. "We both know what it's like to lose control. To have a force that can overwhelm you, until the anger is all you see and Wanda I was furious. And I wasn't the only one. There was no shortage of people to encourage me in what I was doing, asking me to burn the world all to the ground and I was listening. I just... Really missed you." You confess and Wanda sniffles softly but doesn't interrupt. "When I went too far, I regretted it. Natasha found me and accepted me back into the compound despite everything. She wanted to do the same for Clint, but he disappeared. And well, she was there for me and I wanted to return the favor. At some point, Nat and I happened again." The confession took Wanda by surprise. It shouldn't have, she knew about your history and saw the way you were shaken up, or how you took care of everything and went to Ohio for a few days with someone named Yelena. Something hot burned in Wanda's stomach at the confirmation, however.
You didn't notice anything in her micro-expressions, busy playing with the loose threads of your clothes.
"Natasha was all I had in this empty world that Thanos left behind. She loved me and forgave me despite everything I did. And now I've lost her too." You pause with the last sentence to keep from starting to cry, sniffling a little and that's the breaking point for Wanda to come closer and take her hands to yours, caressing your skin.
"I'm so sorry, detka. I really am." She says and you nod tearfully.
"I know, Wands, so do I. For Vis." You say, and the name makes the redhead hesitate a little. She hasn't been talking about it.
You take a deep breath, releasing one hand from her to wipe your face. "I just need to get out of this place Wanda." You continue as calmly as you can. "I keep losing people and losing control with it. I don't want that. Thor can help me, even if Asgard doesn't exist anymore, he knows his magic. I just need a little time out there."
Wanda nods in understanding, holding your hand tightly. "It's okay, I get it." She says but you know her well enough to hesitate.
Your hands squeeze hers back.
"I need to, but if you ask me to stay, I'll stay without a second thought." You retort seriously, looking at her without hesitation. Wanda's eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Tell me it's too much, that you can't be alone now after losing Vision and god, after losing Natasha too. Or tell me whatever you want, that you simply don't want to have turned to dust for five years and now have to watch me leave too. I will stay. I'll bury those doubts down, never do magic again and stay with you."
Your offer only proved to Wanda how much she needed to let go. That was the way you used to love Natasha too - Overwhelmingly and without limits - You loved Natasha until it hurt you. Even if it was too much, even if it wasn't healthy. Endless sacrifices until your relationship broke like glass, as fragile as your health.
Part of Wanda envied the dedication, another hated Nat for not freeing you at once. And that is why Wanda insisted that you leave. She didn't want to love you the possessive way Nat did. She didn't want to hurt you. So she let you go. And you loved her infinitely more for it.
"It will be quick, I promise. I'll be back before you can miss me." Those were your words on the day of your departure. Wanda bit her tongue to avoid saying that she was already missing you now.
Since the compound no longer existed, you and Wanda were staying at Pepper's house. Little Morgan was the most adorable and crafty child in the world, but she was causing some unfinished business to scratch in the back of Wanda's mind, a thing she was ignoring to spend your last days on earth with you.
She smiled at your words, retorting with a teasing "And who says I'm going to miss you?" to get your adorable pout and to keep herself from begging you not to go anywhere.
You hugged her tight for a moment that, though long, didn't seem long enough. And then you left.
And Wanda realized how alone she really was.
She has tried to ignore the old deed they recovered from the rubble but a few days after your departure, she thinks she has run away too much.
-//-
You return to earth on a Monday. It is raining very hard and all your clothes are soaked. After mentally cursing Thor for the storm, you make your way leisurely through the yard to the house.
"Y/N? Oh my god, you're here!" Happy welcomes you with great enthusiasm, and although you are glad to see him again, you are more eager to see someone else. Morgan has grown up and is becoming as sarcastic and intelligent as her parents. Pepper is working and asks you to visit her at Stark Industries.
You don't waste time in doing it of course, but every second you are more annoyed by the lack of response about what really interests you.
Where is Wanda?
This is why you interrupt Pepper about the news. She hesitates and sighs before moving to the phone.
A moment later, they bring you a tablet.
"A lot has happened around here since you left, Y/N. From giant beings sprouting in the middle of the ocean to mind-controlling gods of Egypt." Pepper narrated completely surprising you. The tablet was placed in your hands, and it was open to a file with an icon of a sword, and the title was Anomaly Maximoff. "About the last one, our friend made some mistakes. Recovering that information from SWORD was a billion-dollar courtesy, Y/N. And I'm already warning you, it's even weirder than it sounds."
As soon as the Westview recordings started happening you felt an immense pain settle in your chest. The files had barely finished and you were already getting up.
"I need to find Wanda." That's what you said to Pepper, who didn't try to be too insistent, figuring this would be your reaction.
But it took you long enough to irritate yourself to make any progress. Until you realized that if your magic was failing, it was because Wanda was running away from you.
So you showed up at the one place with other mages that she might not be able to avoid. "Sorry, am I interrupting...?" You announced clumsily as you arrived at a scene that looked like the preparation for a battle.
Stephen Strange was the only one there that you knew, and he, as soon as he recognized you, widened his eyes and raised his finger in your direction.
"She's our answer, Wong! She is the solution!" Declared the sorcerer, to which you and the others raised confused eyebrows.
"Is it some kind of riddle, Strange?" The Wong fellow asked. The doctor denied with his head, approaching you and gently pushing you by the shoulders into the center of the room. "Kamar Taj, meet Miss L/N, former Avengers and Half-Argardian Sorceress, also, our last hope to stop the Scarlet Witch without a fight."
You frowned. "Sorry, I don't know any Scarlet Witch."
Stephen laughed, patting you on the back. "You have a lot of catching up to do, space girl. Let's start with New Jersey...."
-
Wanda was not having a good day.
The voices were impatient. And mocking her for failing to fool Strange. A very low part was glad that she had failed, a hope of the plan not working and the child being safe. But the other voices silenced that very quickly.
She was being reasonable, they said. Offer them the chance to surrender. If they don't, it's their fault if she hurt them.
She just wants the boys back.
The Kamar Taj was strangely peaceful when she arrived, however. Wanda was not stupid, she expected at least a position of defense.
However, she arrived to magicians reading and teaching, and polite smiles from those who met her gaze.
Without any resistance, she can walk through the front door.
"Miss Maximoff, welcome to the Kamar Taj." Greeted an Asian man that Wanda quickly recognized as the Sorcerer Supreme.
Doctor Strange approached beside him. "Wanda, welcome." He said gently, and the scene was very odd to her. Wanda expected the hostility from before, but she recovered quickly and raised her chin.
"Thank you. But I'm here for-
"America, yes." Strange completed with a fake smile. "She's inside, I believe you are merciful enough to let her have one last meal, yes?"
Wanda clenched her jaw. Whatever this passive-aggressive pretense was, it was getting on her nerves, but she played along. It wasn't as if anyone there had the power to stop her.
She followed the magicians inside and was led into a study room. Before she could ask where the child was, a voice was speaking.
"The Scarlet Witch can also be given the title Queen of Chaos." Your voice made Wanda shudder from head to toe. Something hot burned in her chest, and she felt her eyes fill with tears. But she dug her nails into her palms and held them in. Strange and Wong used her shock to sneak out of the room.
You swiveled the chair you were sitting in, and seeing you again was almost as overwhelming as hearing you. The sentence you said was clearly from the book in your lap, and you raised your eyes from the page to Wanda, a smile playing on your lips. "And to think I was right all this time to call you a princess, Wands."
She wanted to laugh. God, Wanda wanted to cry. To hold you and relieve the yearning in her chest for your presence. But something fought for control.
"I'm not here for you." That's what she said between her teeth, trying to keep her tears in place and her emotions under control.
You paid no attention to her aggressiveness, closing the book and returning it to the table before rolling across the top to cross the room quickly.
"I'm not here for you, jeez, someone is in the emo phase again." You scoffed as you did an imitation of her serious voice and accent and Wanda locked her jaw, her eyes reddening. You just chucked at her reaction. "Don't do that, Wands. A vast galaxy and I have failed to find green eyes as beautiful as yours. Bring them back, I've missed it." Wanda choked, failing to contain the redness in her cheeks.
You were different, it was evident. That was flirtatious, brazen and charming. But you were not the only one who had changed.
"They think you can stop me?" She deduces then, her brain screaming at her to find a way to escape your presence and do what she came to do at once. You laugh short and Wanda is twiddling her fingers as you continue to move closer.
"I don't care what they think or want. I am here for you." That's what you say to her and Wanda finds it amazing that she’s not crying. It must be because you are close enough to touch her and this possibility makes her completely still. You look at her with a tenderness that Wanda feels she doesn't deserve and asks in a tone way too gentle to deal with someone who had plans to tear this place to the ground. "I really missed you and I would like to hug my friend. Is it okay if I do that?" Wanda feels her cheeks wet and lowers her face at the same time, hoping to hide the tears you've already seen. She closes her eyes and nods, and the next second your arms wrap around her.
She only realizes how much she has missed human contact when she has it again. Her breath catches in her throat and the soft caresses you do on her back don't help the sighs that want to come out to fade away. Wanda feels warm and ashamed, but you just keep holding her.
"Can you pause your evil wizard vibe for five minutes, Wands? I wanted to take you out like we used to." You ask lowly.
Your invitation makes her hesitate, and that makes you let go. Wanda almost asks you to do more than a hug when she finds your gentle eyes so close, but she swallows dryly and retorts: "I'm busy, Y/N. And it's important. I have to-"
"Steal the girl's powers, yeah, the mages told me the story." You interrupted, and despite the severity of the facts, you kept smiling at Wanda and looking at her as if she deserved the world. "Can't you eat something before you break the multiverse?" This time your joke gets a breathless chuckle from her and it's enough to make your smile even wider. You give a little jump of excitement, your eyes insistently searching Wanda's until she sighs and agrees and you let out another exclamation of celebration.
Your hand glides into hers with naturalness and Wanda has to dig her nails into the other one so as not to melt with a single touch.
"This place is huge, witchy, but I've already learned almost all the secret passages." You confide in her as if no time has passed, and you are on a fun ride.
On the way out, you wave to Strange and Wong, who seem tense to see how things were going, and Wanda has to push the voices telling her to finish the job away, and it's not hard with your warm hand in hers.
You take her through the busy streets as if you were at home.
"Can you believe I've never been to Nepal? To think Natasha made me go all around Asia, but never here." You commented casually and Wanda almost shudders at the sudden mention of Nat. She hasn't heard that name in a long time, and hearing you speak so calmly makes her realize that your time away has helped you with your grief. And that's exactly what she says to you, to which you let out another light laugh. "Well not everyone can create a sitcom life." Your response is not a provocation or repression, but Wanda is so shocked that she stops walking at once and pulls her hand hard against her own chest.
Regret fills your face in the same second, but it is she who speaks first. "How did you...?" "The first thing I did when I came back was to look for you." You begin to explain before she even completes the question. "SWORD recorded the whole thing, and Potts recovered the files. An exchange of favors I imagine. That's not relevant. What is relevant..." you say, approaching her and making Wanda hold her breath. Your gaze is serious and intense, and one of your hands meets her cheek. “Wands. You swore you were fine, that I could go. Do you realize how guilty I am feeling for leaving you alone?"
Wanda closes her eyes for a moment, letting the tears fall as she takes a deep breath. "I am not your responsibility, Y/N."
You hesitate, frowning slightly. "No, you are my best friend." You retort still without sounding angry, and Wanda shudders when your other hand reaches for her cheek. "Most of the time, you are more."
"God, I can't do this right now." Wanda breaks the moment at once, her voice husky and affected as she pulls away with wet eyes. You let your hands fall to the side of your body, biting your lip as you watch her. "I asked you to leave because it was the right thing to do. I kept fighting because it was the right thing to do! I killed Vision because it was the right thing!" She begins to blurt out. "And I freed Westview, I lost my family, my boys-" Wanda broke into a sob, needing to pause for a deep breath. "I am all alone. And I just want my children back."
But you sighed impatiently, and the reaction surprised her completely. "Children who don't exist."
Wanda locked her jaw and raised it in defiance. "They exist, in every other universe."
"They are not your children then." You reason without hesitation, and Wanda stares at you indignantly. But you are moving, and because you keep talking, she has no choice but to follow you. "Think about it, princess, just as you are not the Wandas from another universes, Billy and Tommy are not your twins. By the way, I love the choice of name, which of the two is your favorite?"
Wanda babbles in astonishment, trying to absorb your words, and you take advantage of her reflexive shock to buy food.
You reappear at her side with delicious snacks and guide her to a bridge. Wanda accepts neither the food nor your arguments.
"I will leave this world and live in one where I can be with my children." She declares and you chew leisurely.
"I thought you quit that whole fake life thing." You sneer and she huffs in offense, her eyes glittering. You bite back a smile, raising your hand to touch the tip of her nose playfully. "Just messing with you, grumpy witch. Bring back the lovely green." Wanda grunts in embarrassment, but the color returns to her eyes along with a pink to her cheeks.
"It's not fake. I'll make things right." She tries but you giggle again.
"You will steal someone else's life, lie and manipulate everything and everyone to continue in a universe that is not yours, in a family that is not yours. It feels like a lie to me."
Wanda swallows dryly but does not hesitate.
"They are my children, Y/N." She insists and you swallow your food before asking:
"Speaking of them, that part wasn't clear to me with the three hundred edits your subconscious made to the Westview transmission, but, are you some kind of virgin Mary?" Wanda choked in shame at the realization, stepping forward to slap you on the arm that only made you laugh. "Hey, hey, I have a point okay, as far as I know, RoboCop doesn't have a dick and, you know how babies are made right, little witch?"
Wanda grunted in shame, sinking her face into her hands for a moment. "God, I had forgotten how terrible you are." She muttered to herself before looking back at you, a smile threatening to break her serious posture. "For your information, not that it is any of your business, I am not a virgin. Vision could change into a human form and that means-”
"Oh my god, I'm gonna puke!" You interrupt with a forced frown and are so childish that Wanda can't help but giggle. "Fuck, the mental images I've gotten now. Not yours of course, you are adorable, but he... urgh, I'm going to have nightmares."
"Shut up." Wanda laughed shaking her head in disbelief at your reaction. You just kept up with her, and you were so pleased to have made her laugh that it wasn't long before you were looking at her in that way that makes her legs wobbly, so Wanda had to clear her throat. "The kids are mine, Y/N. Having a family was part of the fantasy but the pregnancy happened. My boys are real and I want them back."
You nod in understanding, and look out over the landscape, wiping your hands on a napkin now that you have finished eating. The market is full a few streets behind you but the bridge it was almost completely empty, and you could see the pier clearly, and it was beautiful. Not as much as the woman next to you.
"I like the crown. It suits you." You tell her suddenly and Wanda feels she’s blushing, one hand instinctively going to adjust the icon on her head. Before she can say thank you, you straighten up again and one hand holds her wrist. "The containment spell is here, isn't it? I can feel it. I imagine it's for carrying that evil book of yours anywhere you want." Wanda swallows dryly. Your touch is so soft and doesn't match your firm tone. Part of her wants to pull your hand back, another part wants you to never let go. "I think Westview is my fault." You state next and Wanda sighs.
"It wasn't." She says taking a step forward. "I can answer for my actions, detka. I've made mistakes, and people got hurt. But you have nothing to do-"
"I bought the land, Wanda." You interrupt by lowering your face and releasing her wrist. Wanda blinks in surprise and confusion.
"W-what? No. Vision bought..."
You cut her off with a laugh. "Wanda, get real for the love of God. Vision was a machine. He didn't even have any papers, let alone money. He wasn't even a human being for a job. But I don't know, you cared about him and because I loved you, I took care of both of you." You blurt out. "Do you think I couldn't see how tired you were getting from having to run from one hotel to another with him? Damn, I couldn't even blame him for not noticing, the guy didn’t understand human needs like sleeping in a bed, or having decent meals. And I knew you. Your desire for a normal and peaceful life. I bought the land, and I told the microwave to give it to you as a place to grow old because you would, and he wouldn't. And I never said anything because you refused to see it, Wanda. It was a life with no future for you two, but you would rather pretend you could spend years in the suburbs with an electric oven than think about the possibility of moving to space with me."
Wanda is in shock at the confession, but only for a few seconds.
"Vis never told me that." She says and you give a short laugh, turning your body toward the bridge again.
"Of course not, things weren't supposed to be that way." You mutter mysteriously and Wanda frowns.
"What do you mean?" She asks but at your lack of response, she grunts impatiently, poking you in the ribs. "Y/N, what do you mean?" She insists and you sigh loudly.
"Damn it, Wanda, what do you think?" You blast back. "I thought we had a chance! I thought... I don't know. I bought you a house so you could have a real home. I turned down Thor's first invitation to stay here with you, even though you and Vision were just starting to try. The whole team knew how I felt, except you. And he was the last to notice, Vis understood when I handed over the keys. He didn't want to accept it, thinking it wasn't right, but I insisted that he keep the house. All those years and you never looked at me the same way, but I just wanted you to be happy, even with someone else. That's what I told him, and he kept the story to himself as I asked."
Wanda's heart broke in her chest. She choked softly, and you looked away again. "B-but you and Nat-" She tries to argue, but you just give another sad laugh.
"We didn’t work out. It never worked out." You say shrugging. "We started out bad and we ended worse. And when I lost you, we held onto ghosts of our relationship for some comfort, and don't get me wrong, I would love Natasha forever, just not in the same way as the first time. The only person I love like that is you."
Wanda needs to sit down. But she thinks the whereabouts of the bridge are support enough for the moment.
You sigh sadly, twisting your fingers together. "I'm sorry I didn't say all of this sooner. I was scared and insecure. You know how I am, and all the things that have been fucked up in my past." You continue to speak, looking at the landscape. "And you were my best friend. You were easily the most important person in my life, and I was afraid of messing that up and being alone. So I chickened out and hid what I was feeling, how much I was falling in love. When everyone on the team knew, I thought about confessing. Steve tried to convince me, he was always great at speeches.” You recall with a sad laugh without meeting the eyes of the shocked Wanda next to you, who listens to the story without interrupting. "Even Natasha told me to move on. She had just found Yelena again and talked about lost time. And I almost did, Wanda, I swear I did. So many times. And all those times I lost my nerve, listening to my insecurities instead of my friends. Until the blip happened and you were just gone out of my life at once."
The redhead swallows dryly, reaching up to take your hand on the ledge. You look at her with contact, and your eyes are moist like hers.
"Can you forgive me?" You ask so small that Wanda sighs.
"Detka, I have nothing to forgive." She says affectionately. "You always put everyone's feelings before your own, ever since I met you. I understand why you did that, I wish you would have told me but I understand because I did the same thing." She confesses and you widen your eyes in surprise, receiving only a tearful smile. Wanda brings her free hand to your cheek, "How can you think I don't love you back? After all we've been through together, what we've done for each other. I wanted you the second I saw you. You were the only person who could make me laugh after I lost Pietro, and I loved your company even though it took me a while to let you know it. I wanted to kiss you so many times, detka. In my room watching TV or cooking together. But you weren't mine. I knew that whatever existed between you and Nat was important and hurtful, but it was still there. And your friendship was all I had and I couldn't risk that. So I kept silent, and I was selfless. I let you free and I let you go, every time." Wanda lets out a short breath, releasing her hand to hold your face with both now. "And all this time you loved me back?"
You nod, ready to break the distance, your face tilting instinctively. Wanda's eyes almost close as your lips brush hers, but despite shuddering, she pulls her face back gently. You almost apologize, but she speaks before you can. "I could have had you all this time if I had been selfish for once. I keep losing all that’s mine, detka. I'm tired of it. No one is going to take anything from me again, ever."
You frown slightly, trying to think of what to say next, but all words fail you when Wanda's soft lips reach yours. She kisses you gently, but only for the first moment. As soon as you sigh, Wanda pulls away only to dive in hard, her hands firmly on your cheeks. It's hot. And fucking sexy. Her tongue asks permission on your lip, but she barely waits for confirmation to slide inside, hungrily devouring and exploring every inch of your mouth, making you shiver. Wanda controls the kiss with ease and mastery, and your legs go wobbly, so you hold her waist tightly, both for support and to feel her against you. She smiles into your lips, sighing in satisfaction at the new closeness.
When air is needed, Wanda pulls away with a long sigh, and you are equally breathless, your mind half clouded with attraction. She gives you a few long kisses before opening her eyes, but it takes you another whole moment to do so, blushing a little as you find her gaze shining with mischief as she watches you.
"Come with me." She whispers close to you, against your lips. You blink in confusion, and she swallows dryly as she clarifies. "I want you with me. Leave this reality by my side."
It's your turn to swallow dry and to remain unresponsive. You open your mouth, but can't think of what to say, and your hesitation makes something sparkle in her eyes. "Wanda, I can't..." You started but she firmed the grip on your face.
"You said you loved me." She recalls with a fury shining in her green irises and you almost shudder. You bite your tongue to keep from giving away how affected you are now, it wasn't fair that Wanda was so beautiful. "Prove it."
You grunted softly, moving one hand to her forearm and stroking the skin until she sighed and released the grip, letting her hands fall away from your face.
You don't let her go completely, holding one of them against your chest.
"I love you." You assure looking into her eyes, watching the anger fade from her irises and her serious expression falter. "With all my heart, Wanda. Always and forever. You know that, I'm sure you can search every corner of my mind and find the evidence. I will follow you anywhere and support you in your decisions. I would if destroying worlds was your heart's desire, but I know it's not."
Wanda frowns, trying to pull her hand back but you don't let go. "Maybe you don't know me well enough." She challenges but you just give a sad smile.
"I know you too well even." You retort. "Much better than the demons in your head, I assure you. The mages told how it works, the whole corruption thing. It shows your children to use the pain as a trigger. I bet they told you to burn Kamar Taj to the ground for the girl."
"I need her powers to reach the boys-"
"Do you really?" You interrupt in the same challenging tone. "Or is that all the voices told you? Because I don't know if you've heard, but there are plenty of spells that take you to another universe. Strange himself was playing around with that sort of thing a few months ago, and he's not even the supreme. And you are the Scarlet Witch, my dear. Don't you find it the least bit suspicious that the demons want to limit you to a child's portals?"
Wanda hesitates, confused and indignant. You're right, but the voices are screaming at her not to listen to you, and it's hard to ignore them.
"I-I..." She tries but you interrupt her by licking your lips.
"They told you to destroy this place and kill a child. You, Wanda. The girl who would fall asleep on my shoulder when we stayed up late watching Bewitched in the tower or always put extra syrup on her waffles. And does a terrible mimic of all the Simpsons characters and can name all the members of the countless bands she listens to." You listed tenderly, making Wanda blush. Your face turns sad. "Before you arrived, they explained everything to me and gave me the books and I asked them not to fight. Of course, they would have no chance of winning, but besides, I didn't recognize the person they were talking about. This terrifying Witch of legend. God, Wanda, they told me to be careful. With you! My best friend. 'Don't mention Westview', 'don't be aggressive, don't challenge her. Rules and protocols, and all I could remember was the girl i kept hugging while she cried for two whole days after Lagos." Wanda chokes, looking away with tear-filled eyes but you pull her back to you, a hand on her cheek.
"I'm not that person anymore, Y/N. You have no idea..." She began with emotion. "There is something in my chest. A fury, and a pain. And I feel like it has completely consumed me. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I will. I'm tired of losing everything."
"I know what it's like, Wanda." You insist, squeezing her hands. "I wanted to burn the whole world when Thanos took you from me. And I was going to. Until I crossed the line and hurt innocent people. It was rock bottom for me. I was becoming worse than the people who hurt me in Hydra. I was becoming someone that you wouldn't know how to recognize. And even without you, I came home and tried to continue being the same person you loved, because there was still hope in my heart that you would come back to me. At worst, I would die helping what was left of the Avengers and find you in Valhala."
Wanda wrinkles her nose tenderly at the mention of the Nordic paradise, knowing that this was Thor's influence in your life, but doesn't interrupt. You smile at her, sighing deeply before continuing to speak:
"You don't have to hit rock bottom too, I'm here for you. And I don't want you to go back to that place where you hated yourself. I can't let you keep hurting."
Wanda hesitates, studying your face for a moment. "You can’t stop me." It's her last resort, the dark hold influence forcing the last argument with the clear loss of control of the witch's mind. You just give a sad smile.
"Would you hurt me, Maximoff?" It's a challenge in jest, but just the possibility makes Wanda shiver. Still, she raises her chin.
"I could if I wanted to."
You hum, narrowing your eyes before tilting your head, your lips finding her jaw and kissing their way to her neck. Wanda melts at once, completely losing her serious posture and having to steady one of her hands on your biceps.
"What a mean little witch you have become..." You sneer, teeth scratching at her skin, and Wanda wants to push you away, overwhelmed with affection and attraction, but all she does is dig her nails into your skin, tilting her neck and giving you even more access. "Kind of kinky this pain thing, but I can learn to like it."
"Can’t you..." She tries, choking on her own breath as your lips firm and start sucking hard enough to bruise, sending a straight heat wave to her belly. "Take anything seriously...for five...ah-minutes?" The delicious sound that escapes in the middle of her sentence makes you tighten your grip on her waist, and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open.
"I'm sorry, baby, but you're too beautiful for me to think of anything else but kissing you every time I look at you." That's what you say, pulling your lips away to look at her so lovingly that her heart races just as fast as when you touch her. "And when you've seen someone in slippers or singing the opening of looney tunes, it's hard to give credence to their villainous era."
Wanda forms an annoyed pout, and this only adds to your smile. She tries to break your embrance, but you kiss her again and she sighs before giving in to the sensation. It is calmer than before but just as intense. When her body heats up again, the feeling of your tongue on hers bringing butterflies to her stomach, you pull away, licking your lips with dark eyes, which sends a strong wave of arousal all through her body and leaves her speechless for a second.
"I can't believe we wasted so much time not doing that." You confess in an affected whisper, rubbing your nose against hers and making her smile. "Can I kiss you until you forget about the multiverse?" The suggestion makes Wanda let out a short laugh, shaking her head and trying to bring some reason to herself.
"Tempting, really, but I need to find my children." She manages to say, nudging your shoulder for you to release her.
"We can make new ones." You joke receiving a sigh of indignation and a pinch in the rib that makes you pull away as you laugh softly.
"Idiot." Wanda mutters in fake annoyance. She turns and walks back toward the Kamar Taj and you sigh before following her.
"I would not dream of interrupting your determined march, your majesty of Chaos, but may I suggest a proposal other than the murder of a child and the destruction of worlds?" Your causal tone makes Wanda laugh faintly despite the seriousness of her words. She was going to say that she wasn't going to hurt anyone, but she didn't correct you because the conflict in her mind was making her nauseous. At her nod, you continued, "How about we burn the evil book, order some pizza, and hang out with the warlocks and the portal girl? She's pretty cool, you know? She's a little bit inquisitive, and she asks some funny questions. She also speaks Spanish..."
"You're trying to make me like her so I'll give up stealing her powers." Wanda interrupts with a puzzled expression, and you let out a soft sigh, shrugging in confirmation as you continue to follow her. She also sighs. "What do you suggest as a way to travel through the multiverse if not her powers?"
The question makes you make a thoughtful expression. "Well, from what I've read about you, being the Scarlet Witch is a pretty big deal. You can alter reality at will, right? Super cool, by the way. Can't you, I don't know, create a machine that has her abilities?" Wanda frowns slightly. "Humm... I don't know."
"You didn't even try, did you?" you retort with a chuckle. "That's what I'm saying, Wanda. These voices in your head are using your fears to manipulate you. I've been here for five minutes, and I've already brought an alternative solution. You don't have to hurt anyone to get your family back. You can find another way, and I will be here to help you."
Wanda stops walking, holding her wrist with some hesitation. Her eyes scan your face for any sign that you are trying to trick her, as the voices say you are, but she only finds sincerity.
"If we're going to do that, I can't stay here." She says looking at the entrance gate for a moment. "America's presence might tempt me. I'm not... trustworthy. Not when I can still hear them."
You swallowed dryly, nodding in understanding. Wanda looked away, so you brought your hand to her cheek.
"We need to fix this first then, Wanda. You wouldn't want to bring those demons to your children, would you?" It's a rhetorical question, but one that Wanda answers in the negative with an immediate nod, a bitter feeling on the edge of her stomach. You stroke her cheek. "Don’t you know anyone who has dealt with that sort of thing? The only witches I've met are a couple of galaxies away and I don't have a spaceship..."
Wanda laughed softly, leaning into your touch for a moment before letting out a soft exclamation, remembering. "Actually I do know someone. The woman I got the darkhold from. She was an experienced witch, hundreds of years old. She didn't seem the least bit affected by use."
"Let's go to her then." You said, kissing the tip of her nose, which made her smile, before walking away. Wanda was about to complain about the lack of closeness, but you intertwined your arms and gestured into the air. "Go on, do your Wiggly Woo and teleport us, scarlet witch." You scoffed in jest, managing a small laugh.
Wanda conjured a portal, and realized, by the way, you were holding her, that you would not leave her alone again. And she was infinitely grateful for that.
--//--
Part Two | Series Masterlist
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#scarlet witch x reader#past natasha romanoff x reader#marvel imagines#canon divergence
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Anything You Can Do (Jamil)
Jamil is incredibly dedicated to his charade of mediocrity, but Reader can snap him out of it faster than he can scramble for his usual level-head
AKA: (almost) anything Jamil does, Reader can do better and it drives him crazy
— (°ω°╬)
Years of perfecting himself, building skill upon skill to be the best retainer for the spoiled brat Kalim, while also perfecting the facade of just average so said brat boy wouldn't be outshined
ALL GONE IN A BLINK
FUCK
Jamil isn't one for raging. He gets annoyed, he sasses and maybe even snaps sometimes, but lately, he's gotten so worked up that he can't help it
His many pillows have met the walls of his room too many times
All because he just. Can't. Win.
Jamil can cook? (Y/N)'s food is apparently tastier and better looking, according to everyone (but Kalim). Jamil can clean? (Y/N) renovated the entire Ramshackle building practically by herself. Jamil can dance? (Y/N) also dances and he will admit himself that she's absolutely mesmerizing. Jamil can play basketball? (Y/N) used to be in her previous world's school team... As the captain.
The only two things he does that she can't do are tending to Kalim and using magic, both which he can't pride himself for being superior
He promised himself years ago that he'd never feel proud that he is Kalim's slave servant. That, and the mere thought of her tending to Kalim makes Jamil feel a bit too murder happy, independent of how well she might do it
And magic is just something he was born with, it's hard to feel superior when she can literally do everything he can without the safety net of magic. And it would've been unfair to say he's better in a competition she can't even participate
He feels the need to prove to (Y/N) that he is capable. Of what exactly, he doesn't know, but he feels the need to prove himself and it makes his self control slip and next thing he knows, he's getting above 90 in all tests, outshining Kalim's ~80 for the first time since they were children
And. He. Still. Lost.
Because (Y/N) just had to go the extra mile and get even higher scores than him
He feels like slapping his cheeks in the hopes of waking up from this nightmare
And maybe forget the warmth that pooled inside him when she—his rival—congratulated him with a sunny smile and told him she was proud of him for showing his intelligence
Again. FUCK.
— (°ω°╬)
Jamil is not one for running away, specially not like a sinner running in shame from the temple, but this time he barely processes who talked to thin before turning to walk the opposite side. Of all days for Kalim to be sick and leave Jamil alone. Were he a bit more paranoid, he's wonder if they were working behind his back, but, then again, Kalim would never be able to hide a plot from Jamil.
So he runs.
Until he doesn't.
Because Jamil is a failure, he's figuring, a weak man who cannot help but yearn for his tormentor.
It's her voice. It's his name in her voice. That's what stops him on his tracks and makes him turn to her.
She approaches with a sheepish smile—beautiful like every other expression she has ever and will ever make, more beautiful than Jamil might ever be able understand—, clutching her folder to her chest. He wishes he had his folder to hide behind.
"Yes?"
"Can you... Can you braid my hair? I keep messing it up, and you have some really nice braids..."
"Uh..." He answers eloquently.
Next thing he knows, he is sitting behind her on a random bench, gently braiding her hairin a simple but charming hairstyle, while she praises him for his tender handling and confides that braids are her weakness.
"No matter how many times I try, the braid never comes out good," (Y/N) says, turning her head just enough so he can see her smile, "You're so good at it, though, I'm glad I asked you! Thank you so much for helping me, Jamil!"
And oh. He now understands what he wanted to prove so badly.
"You can come to me for anything, I'll gladly help you"
Someone who can do everything by herself does not need him, after all.
#jamil viper x reader#jamil viper#twst imagines#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#x fem reader#female reader
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Albert Wesker headcanons!! 👾
this bitch has been in my mind for way too long, so now is the moment i just talk about him online.
mind a couple things:
these are headcanon for a wesker in a normal life au, where is yes still kind of an asshole, but also kinda softer? like he hasn’t been through the traumas (spencer) and all, so yeah, he can love and prove emotions?? also this has parts that include a romantic relationship between wesker and you? idk. also there’s nsfw
so=significant other
i might have done some grammar mistakes or a mess with the usage of the adjective used for his so, since i tried to use they/them, but sometimes i might have used you.
edit: i’ve taken my time and i tried to fix all my typos etc. hoping that i found ‘em all *pokémon theme starts playing*
this man is pan, he doesn’t care about the gender or the physical aspect of who he’s dating, he just wants them to be smart enough to be interesting (in his opinion). i feel like he would dislike unintelligent people because he feels like they aren’t trying enough.
he loves pet names. i feel like he would use them for call his so ALL the time but when he wants to start a serious conversation.
if his so isn’t american, he would probably try to learn their culture and maybe also their language (he would absolutely learn pet names in said language because he finds cute how his lover react when he uses them). knowing him, he would probably learn the new language easily, and would be also good at it. with his accent, yes, but with proper grammar and vocabulary. he also would like to visit his so’s country both to see where they grew up and to see the biggest attractions said country offers (i am italian, and i usually picture this with him visiting my small and empty town but also milan, rome, venice, florence, naples etc.).
he chose his s.t.a.r.s. career over his umbrella’s one. in re0 he’s defined something like «practical Al», so i think that despite liking biology and generally science, he would find himself more comfortable with a career where he can spend his energies in a constructive way.
he’s rich, but doesn’t like bragging about it. he has a big house, a very nice car but tends to live very simply, spoiling himself just for particular occasions. that can’t be said for his so, who he likes spending money on. like, they would be so embarrassed because they would feel like using him, while he’s like that meme that goes «i like seeing women spending my money». after a while he just decides to not going through the same process of «you really don’t have to» and starts to buy things and then make them appear between his lover’s properties. he loves buying them clothing he thinks they would look good into.
he’s jealous af. he doesn’t throw jealousy fits in public, but when he feels someone is trying to get too close to his so (like someone getting flirty in public), he would magically appear near them, slipping his hand around their waist and kissing their head. and if he feels like they’re getting closer than he likes to someone, he would probably just go berserk on them, throwing them on the bed and reminding them whose person they are property of.
with jealousy it comes also possession. he loves to show everyone that they are his. so in public he would probably always have his arm around their waist or his hand on their knee.
he’s a dom. also a pretty kinky one. despite not disliking sweet and tender sex, he like an animalistic one more. he has many kinks (breeding, cnc, dacryphilia, bondage and i could go on for hours) and likes experimenting. but he’s also very attentive to his lover, makes sure they have a safe word for anything (also non-verbal ones) and that they are always having a good time. his after care is very simple, but he makes sure his lover is cleared and that they know it was all an act. he likes submission, but also like people who rebel: he’s definitely a brat tamer.
i’ve already said this, but i repeat it again: he’s a girl dad. with his children he’s very attentive, and despite being a little in difficulty with showing affection in a way a child can comprehend (which is a very direct one, not the subtle one he can show to his lover and few friends), he’s still a great dad and he’s very present in their life despite all the things he has to do (i am sorry jake that you live in canon and not in my mind).
alone together time!! he’s working, his so is minding their own business, but their are in the same room and this comforts him.
he doesn’t tell, but he cherishes all his s.t.a.r.s. colleagues, and considers them friends.
he likes non-sexual intimacy, like making his so shave him.
he has tons of beauty products and loves skincare (he doesn’t admit he’s getting older and wants to gaslight himself that he isn’t in his 40s/50s/60s).
i can’t imagine any of his relationships not having an age gap, so, yes, there’s an age gap.
he likes cooking and experimenting with cuisine.
he reads a lot, and has his own personal library.
he loves hanging out with birkin, and since they barely see each other, they organize this big and embarrassing foursome dates, with his so and annette being so embarrassed at first, but warming up later on.
he doesn’t believe in god, despite this he’s sherry’s godfather.
he is extremely sensitive to light, this is why he wears sunglasses. he takes them off only in his office and in his home, both places where the blinds are shut and the lights are very dim.
okay, for now it’s over.
for now.
#resident evil#rebh#biohazard#albert wesker#wesker#resident evil biohazard#albert wesker resident evil#albert wesker x you#albert wesker x reader#pansexual#resident evil headcanons#albert wesker headcanons#he’s not evil here guys
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Howl
M ~ 8.9K ~ Werewolf Drarry
After an encounter with a vicious werewolf, Draco Malfoy wakes in a field hospital with a mangled shoulder, a furry little problem, and an inconvenient crush on Harry Potter. Potter, meanwhile, is still trying to save the world, only this time he wants Draco right there with him while he does it. Taking part in a rebellion against a corrupt regime isn't always glamorous, but at least sometimes there are organic farmshop pastries and fancy hotel bedsheets. Just don't ask about that smell of burning.
A gift for @cluelesspigeons as part of the @drarrymicrofic Wheel of Drarry exchange.
Celina, your gorgeous microfics always have such a sense of tenderness and longing. I wanted to bring some of that softness to this fic, which also includes some of your Drarry likes (werewolf Drarry, long-haired Draco, tattooed Draco - plus some long hair and tattoos for Harry too, because he deserves nice things). Thank you for all you contribute to this fandom, in the form of your lovely words and your fabulous modding skills.
@maesterchill and @sweet-s0rr0w i am so lucky to have both of your brilliant minds at my disposal and will never stop being grateful for that.
Mourning Moon
Draco woke up on a Friday morning in a field hospital in Grasmere, without a single memory of how he had got there. The last thing he remembered was being in London, not two streets away from his tiny bedsit, getting a very late takeaway dinner in the only burger joint still open at that time of the night. He was sheltering from the rain and unwrapping his bean burger—no tomatoes, extra gherkins—and had felt rather than seen something moving in the darker shadows beyond the mouth of the alleyway.
And that was all there was, nothing but a horrifying blank spot in his memory before waking up here on a rickety stretcher, feeling like he had been turned inside out. His shoulder was hurting badly, the pain maybe even worse than when he took the Mark, and he could tell from the thickness of the bandages that whatever had happened to him, it was bad. He could smell the protective webbing of healing charms packed around the wound, and could feel the dittany busily knitting away at the flesh.
“Another one?”
The Healer—who for all Draco knew wasn’t even a real Healer, just someone with an O in Potions who was handy with an Episkey—wasn’t even looking at his face as she spoke, just scribbling busily on a chart and then running a cold, assessing hand over Draco’s sternum. She raised her wand to his skin.
“Another what?” Draco asked rudely, just to make the Healer look at him properly.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Her voice was cool, the spark of her magic at his shoulder something like relief and something like an invasion. Behind Draco, there was a small shifting sound, a rustle of air and greenery and the warmth of something too familiar. The back of his neck prickled, but the Healer held him firmly in place.
Draco could smell the woman’s cold antiseptic scent and below that the sourness of too much coffee and the ripe smell of her body after what must have been a long shift. He could smell the ink on the quill nib, the same metallic salt to the smell as blood, and he knew then what must have happened, his heart kicking faster, the steep jump on the monitoring spell making the Healer frown. Draco allowed himself to stretch his arms, feeling the way his bones tightened under the skin, wrist bones locking for a second, making him think of lengthening strides, the wild rush of the chase, the thrill of a body made exactly fit for purpose. It was really quite unlike himself, Draco thought, looking down at his own bare torso, pale as a grub, his fingers scarred and splintered from chisels and raw wood, his Mark still there, like it always would be, inescapable.
“What happened to me?” Draco asked, needing to hear it.
“Werewolf. Bad bite,” came a voice—his voice—and Draco’s flesh pebbled into gooseflesh as though in a fresh breeze. “You’re lucky we were already onto him. If we hadn’t arrived when we did...”
“Quite right.” The Healer sounded disapproving. “You were lucky tonight, Mr Malfoy. That bite was designed to do some serious damage. Any deeper and you wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.” Her quill scraped against the chart again before coming to a decisive stop as she plucked it out of the air and shoved it into her pocket. “It’s almost as though it was… personal. We won't know for certain until the next full moon, but given the severity of the bite I think I should prescribe wolfbane. I'll check the dispensary.”
She was gone from the tent before Draco could reply, before the shame crept in a flush of heat from his chest up, before he could tell her he knew it was personal, before he could ask if there was anything that could be done for him. There wasn’t; he already knew the bite had taken, the wolf was in his blood. He could feel it as surely as though the fangs were still clamped down on him.
“It’s always personal with Greyback,” Potter said, moving around the stretcher so Draco could see him. Draco felt very suddenly like lying back down and having a messy cry. “If that’s any consolation.” He reached out a hand and patted Draco’s good arm.
It was almost too much, a sensory overload, Draco’s mouth suddenly wet and getting wetter, a prickle of sweat over his top lip, a greying fuzz across his vision before he blinked the colour back into the room.
“You alright?” Potter, at his shoulder, the scent of him already unmistakable.
“I’m—” Draco began, and then stopped before it turned into a growl at the sudden shift in the air, like a turning breeze. Not a threat, exactly, but something equally new and unsettling, the dangerous rolling whiff, the urge to take or be taken. He raised his head, inhaled. “Oh. You. You’re one too?”
Read the rest of Howl on AO3
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a message from anon earlier today made me want to write a nursing scene <3
Something felt a little different in Eve’s body today.
Not bad, just … different.
It sat in the back of her head all day, but she didn’t pay it much mind as the day progressed and Oksana made an appearance.
After lunch Oksana was teary, not at all keen on the idea of Eve tucking her in for a nap all alone. Eve resorted to the thing they usually resort to these days; letting Oksana suckle. The thing they once tried on a whim was now a daily occurrence, and Eve is convinced that there’s something a little bit magical about it.
Some might call it simple oxytocin, but Eve prefers magic.
“Mkay, honey … let’s try this instead,” Eve says as she makes herself comfortable, and guides Oksana to her breast. “Here, baby.”
Oksana begins to suckle as if she had been waiting for Eve to get the hint all day. Eve notices now what it was that felt so different this morning and has to refrain from breaking Oksana’s latch as a heavy tenderness spread through her chest.
“Gentle, please,” she reminds Oksana, taking a deep breath as Oksana lays an apologetic hand on her other breast and slows down. “Thank you, baby.”
They settle into their little bubble. The pressure continues to build, until it suddenly releases and Eve can relax too. Oksana twitches beside her, humming. She swallows and the bubble bursts. Oksana’s eyes go wide and she pulls away.
“What—” Eve starts but goes quiet again at the curious sight. Oksana’s lips are parted and milky. “Is that… it is. Are you—is that okay?”
Oksana looks at the source, wheels turning inside her head. Then she licks her lips and quietly settles back in, resuming her rhythmic suckling and closing her eyes.
“Oh,” Eve mumbles, a little surprised and very shocked by the ordeal. Then she smiles. “Is that good, huh?”
Oksana smiles around her latch, fingers scratching lightly at Eve’s skin. Her hand curls shyly by her mouth as she continues the rhythmic motion of suckling and swallowing every now and then. It seemed like she was getting used to it, too.
Eve didn’t even consider that this could happen. But it makes sense, given the fact that they do this very single day, sometimes more than once.
The realisation that Eve’s body had made this hit her like a train and her view of Oksana is blurred by tears. She isn’t sure what to think of it and surely she’ll have to talk to Villanelle about it — but it can’t be bad, can it? Not when Oksana is so calm and at peace, not when Eve’s own body made milk for the sole purpose of soothing Oksana.
“It’s all for you,” Eve murmurs. “It’s just for you, baby … have as much as you need.”
Oksana’s finger traces a heart into Eve’s skin, over and over.
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The Great Covid Beatles Binge, Day 1: Nowhere Boy
I am stuck in bed with Covid and have decided to spend my time binging all the Beatles movies, docs and biopics I've never gotten around to. Up first, Nowhere Boy (2009)
OK this opening shot is actually stunning? The first chord of A Hard Day's Night and John running through Liverpool and stumbling just like in that movie. STRONG opener!
“Do I ignore you? No. So please don’t ignore me.” makes me think of "Don’t 'nore me Mimi!"
Oh Uncle George! I don’t know if their relationship was really this lighthearted and warm but it breaks my heart to think that sweet John couldn’t have a positive father figure in his life for long, he clearly needed that.
John making weird little sounds while he doodles and then doesn’t even know that he’s being asked about his favorite guy. “Churchill sir!”
This poor actress has really been type cast as Messy Mom. I feel like she usually plays meaner/more fucked up characters though so I was skeptical, but I like her in this after all.
"I Put a Spell on You" really is a sexy song, damn.
So in the context of this movie, these scene doesn't even feel all that scandalous. This entire movie to this point (and going forward) has been framed a romance between John and Julia, so by the time you get here it's like yeah, I guess that's what we're doing. The writer of this movie read that one quote of John's talking about having feelings of attraction to Julia and really went WILD with it.
I'm shocked that they didn't try to find some way to get the song "Yes It Is" into this movie. Clearly someone has a theory:
If you wear red tonight
Remember what I said tonight
For red is the color that my baby wore
Anyway, this forest scene was hot.
I love Aunt Mimi and John teaming up to haggle with the man for a better price on the guitar. “That’s not very good is it John?” “Borderline mediocre if you ask me”
What is going on with this lodger and Aunt Mimi! I feel like I'm getting a vibe.
OK unsurprisingly, I need there to be like %1000 more significance placed on this scene.
I'm gonna pause here to talk about casting. I don't believe that actors need to look just like the subjects they're portraying, it's more important that they can carry out the essence of the character, but I do feel like sometimes, with certain characters, there are some aspects of appearance that are important. Like I think it is important that Paul is very pretty, both for his own character and for John's perception of him. And in this instance, the John actor is just objectively much prettier than the Paul actor and that's simply wrong. John would never in a million years say this little boy looks like Elvis!
This scene is such a mess, this movie is just making shit up now. Julia at literally every one of their gigs. John being weirdly jealous of Paul's relationship (??) with Julia. Paul being a great and confident lead guitarist! This last point in particular gets me because if that were the case, what's the point in bringing in George? Which happens in the next scene! There's absolutely no build up, it's just like here's George.
Justice for George, once again a nonentity in a Beatles movie. At least in Backbeat he had a couple funny lines.
Mimi made him birthday dinner and bought him a new guitar!! But he didn't show! Excuse me while I sob. This trope always gets me. I think the relationship between John and Mimi is my favorite part of this movie.
Ah the infamous punching scene. It really must have especially irked Paul that it was in the context of John grieving for his mother. Like, how dare they take this thing that was such a tender, emotional bonding experience for the two of them and make it into a display of John's macho anger.
Make me think -- WHAT would John have thought of this movie??
"In Spite of All the Danger," my beloved! This song is so good. Peter Jackson, please work your AI magic on the record to give us a cleaned-up version! I'm so McLennon-pilled though that it's very weird to see it in this context. Also, it's mostly a Paul song!
“Hamburg? Humbug!” Mimi, I love you!
OK sobbing. And as "Mother" plays the movie out? It's on the nose but it's working for me.
Overall, a fine movie. The whole concept of the movie as essentially a romance between John as his mother is questionable at best! But there were a lot of lovely shots of Liverpool and I did like Aaron Taylor-Johnson as John. He captured John's silly, playful side that you don't often see. Definitely the Mimi/John relationship was the best and most authentic feeling part of this movie, so I am glad that it ended on that note.
Next up, Give My Regards to Broad Street!
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Oh boy... irl kept me busy these past couple of days (both work and new kinda last min art~) >~<;; couldn't post and also just go crazy about ALL the new announcements...
hoooo boy ⚆_⚆ was there so much announcements... discord's basically flooded
Let's just talk about the new features~ Which, as if this game isn't delulu enough, adds even more delulus~
But honestly, I think the new Quality Time feature would be like nice background/white noise for the times I feel like I need something in the background (and I don't want any YT videos, video essays or music. Ngl, I sometimes just open the game and leave Xavier's tender moments on just to get that nice ambience when trying to work in this sweltering... humid af... heat...)
Though I wonder for the Work option... What would Xavier be working on...? Zayne's gonna obviously be doing, well... his work... Rafayel's painting, I think, from one of the other screenshots... Is Xavier just gonna like, idk, read? Can't imagine what he might even be working on 🤣 maybe writing reports
But can I just say this (again) PAPERGAME'S ART TEAM PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS! I know people are going on about jiggle phyiscs and some... packages. But look here. The technique of the Technical Artist team to make the sweat glistening? And the sweat beads???? Hats off. To make it look like so nice ToT I wanna know how to achieve that look and feel too. How does one do this in Unity??? custom shaders? HDRP magic????
Ahem. anyways... uh... moving on. The new AR photoshoot feature (╹ڡ╹ )
Definitely gonna fuel ALL the delulus. Probably gonna try it only once to see how the changing positions work (and then never use it again, especially if I am gonna put myself in it :v )... I guess the tech for separating the background from main subjects are pretty solid at this day and age. But still, am curious how well it'll work.
Though, if I ever use the photoshoot feature and I have to edit the lighting... welp, there goes hours of my life 😂 gonna be stuck in that mode constantly trying to match the irl lighting and game lighting
Last but not least of the updates is Rafayel! Can I just say the Ultimate animation is just... phenomenal. (Please let Xavier's new myth Ult be just as cool. I mean, I love his current Ults but... would be nice to have a fancier one, ya know?)
Like the whole school of fishies and MC just casually riding on a whale to smite dem enemies 👌
One final thing. Rafayel's outfit. The back, with that spine that goes to his lower legs and ending with these fin looking things. That. That detail is nice. (it does remind me of the word Dolphin tail which leads me to think about Tifa and her dolphin tail hair though. Such brain tangents)
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Sometimes your zip line park isn't doing well and you have a shift of 4 hours without any people so instead you sit in a tree and write fanfiction on your phone.
Anyways this little thing is based on @manitapaleta 's GORGEOUS art piece, link here if you haven't been graced with it yet.
~
841 words - Nark
CWs: mentions of boldily harm, blood, injury
~
The touch of Lark’s hand was cold on Nick’s face, methodical in the way it moved, but lingering every so often, causing Nick’s breath to catch in his throat.
They were quiet, Lark focused on his task, Nick focused on trying not to wince.
Were the circumstances different, they’d probably be screaming at each other until their throats were torn raw. But Lark was apparently concussed – how he’d managed to achieve that he had refused to disclose – and Nick’s sympathetic nervous system still hadn’t completely calmed down after a full minute of believing his son was dead and then reliving multiple traumas at the same time.
Neither of them were at their best right now, and wanted to prevent getting into a fight that was sure to dredge up painful memories they’d both rather leave locked away alongside the skeletons in their closets. There was plenty of time for fighting later. Right now, the soft, tentative silence between them was being held in place with a mixture of bone-aching tiredness, the desire to keep their children safe, and an all-consuming hatred for Willy Stampler which made their personal feuds pale in comparison.
Willy was still out there. In their fight, Nick had wounded the bastard enough that afterward his semi-light-hearted ‘you should see the other guy’ hadn’t fallen flat. Lark, bleeding from his face and about as talkative as a gravestone, got stuck on demon-sitting duty while the others were chasing Willy, trying to make sure he didn’t get away.
Lark had gruffly asked if Nick was okay with him treating the wounds Willy’s magic knife had caused, seeing how Nick wouldn’t do a great job at it in his armless state. Why he’d offered, Nick couldn’t fathom. Why Nick had accepted was even more of a mystery.
Now, after his arm had been reattached and he’d regained a bit of agency, Nick’s gaze trailed over Lark’s toned arms which were so steadily tending to his face, to the look in his eyes that was too concentrated to be tender, but nevertheless devoid of the burning tenacity that used to always be present there.
Okay. So maybe it wasn’t that much of a mystery.
Nick was holding a bloodied cloth rag he’d previously used to keep pressure on the cut, gripping it tight like a stress ball, betraying how tense he was. He was shirtless and vulnerable, and he shouldn’t trust the man who’d loved him and betrayed him, but for some reason, he did.
Lark had cleaned the long cut running diagonally over Nick’s left cheek, and was now gently applying a layer of antiseptic cream that smelled vaguely like cranberries.
“‘S probably gonna scar,” Lark mumbled, sounding as tired as Nick felt.
“Figures,” Nick said, trying to make his tone light. “Fate’s really trying to turn me into a full-on action hero.”
“Fate’s a bitch.”
“Yeah.”
Lark pulled his shoulders back a bit when he seemed done with the scream, but not his hand. His fingers lingered on the line of Nick’s jaw and he applied a tiny bit of pressure, like a barber moving his head to see the final result. His thumb brushed over Nick’s lips – accidentally? On purpose?
Whatever the intention, Nick’s breath went shallow. Every inch of his bare skin felt hyper-exposed.
Lark’s focus was still on the lower side of Nick’s face, specifically on his lips, as though those also needed his soft-touched care– nope. Cut that thought, Nicky, bad idea. Don’t go there.
The thing was, Nick was pretty sure he could.
He could lean in. He could lean in and close his eyes and pretend that they had both forgotten the past ten years, ignoring how those lonely years had fundamentally changed them as people. He could throw caution and sensibility to the wind, just to feel that spark again.
He wouldn’t. But he could.
He wanted to.
Lark looked up at him, finally. Hesitance and regret swirled in those dark-brown pools, or maybe that was just Nick’s hopeful imagination. He didn’t remove his hand. His thumb stilled on the corner of Nick’s mouth, while his other fingers had trailed down to his neck. His heartbeat pulsed against Lark’s pinkie, betraying the way his body was reacting to their closeness much in the same way as how Lark had seemed to stop breathing altogether.
“Nicky, I…” Lark started.
The door of the med bay slammed open, startling both of them.
“He fucking got away,” Grant sighed, the others coming in behind him, looking bruised but not too worse for wear.
“Shit,” Lark cursed, the hand that had been on Nick’s face a few seconds ago clenching into a fist. The familiar ice-cold determination that left no space for warmth returned to the look in his eyes, and he abruptly stood up and joined the others, muttering in hushed tones about their next course of action.
Nick remained seated on the bench, trying frantically to get his heartbeat under control again, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted iron.
Fuck.
#dndads#nark#nark nation#calamity's writing#lets see if this stays up this time#thanks eri for rbing the art#i totally would have forgotten to post this otherwise
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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Breathe
Yennefer and Geralt both enjoy the benefits of being closely connected to magic. One of those benefits is not having to suffer most human diseases.
Because of their mutations, Witchers are immune to human diseases/illnesses.
Mages are mostly immune due to their magic. Yennefer does still catch the flu on occasion when she forgets to renew a spell or take a special potion
Neither one has to deal with things like seasonal allergies, colds, viruses, or infections.
They can go about their day, secure in the knowledge that they won't catch whatever the germ factory standing next to them at the mall or grocery store is spraying into the air.
But Jaskier is just a normal human. He has to deal with annoying human illnesses. It's mostly minor stuff, like a head cold, a stomach virus, the occasional flu, or seasonal allergies. Geralt and Yennefer get used to the minor illensses he catches, and inspite of their best efforts to remain vigilant, they sometimes don't notice when he catches something serious.
When Jaskier catches what Yennefer and Geralt assume is a minor case of the flu, he just takes an over-the-counter medicine to ease the symptoms and lies on the couch, being either eerily quiet or obnoxiously needy.
He walks around with his blanket, trying not to be too much of a nuisance as his symptoms get progressively worse. He takes one of Yennefer's tinctures and tries to ride it out, but he is beginning to suspect that it's something more serious than the flu.
He's started having coughing fits that leave him breathless and terrified of the rusty colored phlegm that he gags up in the bathroom sink or into his hands.
His chest is so sore from all the coughing. The fever refuses to break. His voice is a harsh, broken croak. And he's so tired. Just walking to the living room leaves him exhausted. He feels like he's out of breath just laying in bed.
Yennefer is p*ssed. She's p*ssed at herself for not noticing sooner that his flu was turning into pneumonia. She curses at herself while she goes about making the potions she's going to need to give him.
Jaskier lays in his bed, exhausted after another coughing fit. He trembles under his blankets as the chill shivers through him. He tried to ignore the pain the blankets were causing where they put pressure on his chest.
He tried to use his hand to keep the blankets off the two lumps on the left side of his chest next to his breastbone. It was an old injury that had never healed right, and all the coughing had irritated the cartilage there, making it very tender and painful. Just breathing caused pain.
Jaskier tried to sleep, to ignore the pain, but he gave up after a while, and dragged himself out of bed. He was cold anyway, and his fever fogged brain suggested that maybe a nice warm Witcher would warm him up better than some lame blankets.
Geralt can hear how hard he's struggling to breathe when he shuffles slowly out to the living room, cheeks flushed with fever. His breathing is labored and rapid, and he can hear the raspy, rattling sound in his lungs.
"Julian Alfred Pankratz, get your a** back in bed right now, you little sh*t!" Yennefer hollered from the kitchen when she caught sight of him. He had his blankie around his shoulders, and was practically huffing that one corner. She wondered how he could breathe at all with it half way up his nose.
"Geralt! You're supposed to be watching him!"
"Look at him! He's about to keel over, the poor thing!"
"Take him back to bed this instant!"
"Don't drag him by the arm like that! Gods, you look like a f***ing caveman dragging his wife away! You might as well be dragging your knuckles on the ground! "
"What do you mean how else? Carry him, you buffoon! You don't expect him to walk back, do you? He can barely f***ing stand-!"
Jaskier felt an abrupt sharp, stabbing pain in the right side of his chest. It was suddenly very hard to breathe... It felt like there was a band or pressure around his right lung. Oh, gods, he couldn't get a breath!
Geralt grabbed Jaskier as he made a wheezing sound and staggered, hand pressed on the right side of his chest. He could hear something wrong with his breathing. The rattling in his lungs, he could only hear it on one side of his chest.
"Yen, his lung's collapsed!" Geralt shouted, scooping Jaskier up and laying him on the couch, propping him up with a few of the pillows.
Yennefer was cursing every deity she could remember as she ran out of the kitchen. She checked for herself, then swore again. It was definitely collapsed.
Jaskier weakly clutched at her, his face pale and afraid. Every labored breath brought another sharp pain with it. And he was begining to feel light-headed.
His one good lung was unable to get enough air with the infection filling it with pus and fluid.
Geralt normally would have suggested that he take him to the hospital, but Jaskier's lips were starting to get pale. They didn't have time to get to the hospital. And he knew Jaskier would never agree to go.
"Yen, get his shirt off!" he barked as he ran for the front door, "I'm going to aspirate his chest!"
Without hesitation, Yennefer grabbed the neck of Jaskier's t-shirt and ripped it down the front. She didn't question why Geralt knew how to decompress a chest. Witcher training involved so many things that when thought too deeply about, were just depressing.
Geralt returned barely a minute later, dropping to his knees by the couch and tearing open the package of a rib needle.
Jaskier was struggling to breathe, but he still tried to fight when he saw the needle. He knew what Geralt was going to do.
"No! I don't want to do it! I don't want to, Yen!" he wheezed breathlessly, pushing at Yennefer's restraining hands "F**k, it hurts! I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"
"Be still, Lark, be still!" Yennefer almost begged, brushing his hair back, trying to calm him. His lips were starting to turn blue, and he looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. "It's going to be alright! Stop moving around!" She leaned down, cradling his face in her hands.
He started a coughing fit, and Yennefer had to fight to not panic. A coughing fit was the last thing he needed with only one lung that was already compromised by infection. Yennefer pressed both of her hands on his chest, poured out a little magic, and the fit ceased.
"Julek! Julek, listen to me!" Yennefer said, trying to stay calm herself, "You have to let him do it. We need to get your lung reinflated," She stroked her hand down his cheek and over his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. She could feel his heart pounding against her hand.
"I don't want to!" Jaskier quavered, eyes locked on the long needle Geralt held. He tried to sit up, panting in rapid, shallow breaths. A muscle in his jaw tightened and his pupils dilated.
Yennefer saw the look in his eyes, and she saw Geralt tense out of the corner of her eye. He'd seen it too. They both knew that look.
Jaskier had to grab on to Yennefer when his head spun and dark spots danced across his vision.
He could feel that other part of himself starting to stir. The part of him that would cause an...inconvenience. "G-geralt!" he said in a hoarse, tight voice, reaching for him.
"F**k! Lie still, Julek!" Yennefer said sternly, laying him back on the pillows.
Geralt hesitated for a second, not sure how Jaskier was going to react to his suggestion, then quietly said, "I can use Axii, if you want, Songbird, but only if you want me to. You know I would never use it to force you to do something."
Jaskier swallowed, considering the suggestion. He trusted Yennefer and Geralt. His chest hurt so much, and it was so hard to breathe, he just wanted it to be over. And could feel the feral part of himself starting to try to get out. He did not want to end up hurting either of his friends.
"I'm going to numb your chest," Yennefer added, stroking her thumb over Jaskier's pale cheek. "I promise it won't hurt. You won't feel it at all."
Jaskier fidgeted with his hands, then nodded. Geralt squeezed Jaskier's hand, then made the sign. Jaskier felt all the fear bleed away. He knew he had a collapsed lung, and that he was in pain, and struggling to breathe. He knew it was serious, but he wasn't afraid.
Yennefer was whispering a spell while she pressed her fingers against the space between his second and third rib on the right side of his chest. The area tingled, then there was a senation of...nothing.
"Can you feel this?" Yennefer asked, poking and prodding at the area.
Jaskier shook his head, and Geralt moved in to clean the area and start placing the needle.
"I always knew you couldn't resist me," Jaskier said to Yennefer while Geralt worked, "The exuberance with which you ripped my shirt off! It's like you waited your whole life for that moment!"
"In your dreams!"
Oh, believe me, I'm going to be having dreams about it!"
"You need to stop!" Yennefer said with a fond smile, patting his pale cheek.
"Oh, yeah, they are going to be really spicy! They'll even involve Potoo Head Geralt!
"You better f***ing not!"
"Can you two kindly shut up? I'm trying to concentrate." Geralt grumbled. Yennefer almost laughed at the disgusted look he gave Jaskier. Geralt had never gotten comfortable with Potoo Head Geralt, the nightmare creature that had turned into a sort of dream guardian when Jaskier had been having bad nightmares about a Viper Witcher that had attacked him.
Jaskier and Yennefer talked about it like it was some sort of pet, or quirky friend. The goofy a** looking thing was just too much weird for Geralt. He didn't know what they saw in it.
Geralt checked his position and resumed inserting the needle into Jaskier's chest. He moved slowly, pushing it in a little at a time and listening for the second the air started hissing out.
Yennefer kept the mental link open so she would know if Jaskier felt even the tiniest bit of discomfort from the needle.
All Jaskier felt was the sensation of the invisible grip on his lung start to release. Within a minute, he could breathe again. Geralt removed the needle, and Yennefer was taking care of the leak in his lung that had caused the whole problem.
Geralt took Jaskier and put him back in bed while Yennefer went to finish the potions. It didn't take the bard long to fall asleep. He was able to breathe fairly well for the first time, and his body was demanding to sleep while it was relatively comfortable. Geralt stayed in the room with him, just incase his lung tried to collapse again.
Yennefer was in a little while later with the finished potions, and she was reluctant to wake him. He was sleeping well, but the rattle in his lungs was coming back.
"Wake up, love," she whispered, pulling his worn-soft blanket away from his face. "Come on, I've got the potions ready." She patted at his fever-flushed cheek until he got his eyes open and she was sure he was fully awake. Geralt helped him sit up, propping him up on the pillows. "This one is for the fever, Starling," Yennefer said, handing Jaskier the first potion.
"Tastes like a**!" he whined after the first swallow.
"How do you know what a** tastes like." Yennefer challenged as he put the bottle back to his lips, steeling himself for another bitter mouthful.
"Maybe we should ask Potoo Head Geralt." Geralt interjected quickly, just as Jaskier was taking another sip.
Jaskier snorted the potion out of his nose.
"D*mn it, Geralt!" Yennefer snapped as she tried to clean up the mess.
Jaskier managed to laugh tiredly between coughs. "I left myself wide open on that one."
"Don't you f***ing dare!" Yennefer said quickly when she saw Geralt open his mouth. She took the empty bottle from Jaskier and poured the contents of the second one into a nebulizer. She turned it on and handed it to him so he could hold the mask over his mouth and nose.
"No talking!" she said sternly. "You need to inhale as much of that as possible. It will help dry out your lungs and bring down the inflammation."
Jaskier nodded and leaned back on the pillows. It took about 15 minutes before the steam ran out. He was ready to go back to sleep, but Yennefer made Geralt drag him to the bathroom and help him wash all the 'stink' off. He had fought nearly every step of the way. He was tired and cranky, and sore, and he didn't feel good at all. He just wanted to curl up and sleep, but Yennefer had insisted, stating that he would feel better after a bath.
He complained about the temperature of the room. Complained about the temperature of the water. Complained that the scrubby washcloth was too scratchy. Complained that the soap was too soapy. The water was too wet. The towel was to rough. He didn't want the blue t-shirt, he wanted the gray one...
Geralt felt like he was dealing with a giant toddler.
Jaskier didn't mean to be so difficult, but on top of not feeling good, he'd had to suffer the humiliation of not even being able to bathe or dress himself. And he was also very annoyed because Yennefer had been right, he did feel a little better after taking a bath. But f**k every devil in H*ll if he was going to admit it!
Yennefer had put clean sheets on the bed, and almost started a world war when she asked Jaskier if he wanted her to wash his blankie. It was absolutely filthy, in her opinion, having been coughed and sneezed on, and drooled on...
The gods only knew what diseases were being bred within its dingy fibers. It had only been washed once that she could remember, and it had been by accident. Jaskier had reacted badly to the incident, and hadn't spoken to Geralt for days.
Jaskier had barked a harsh 'No!' at her, grabbing his blanket protectively.
"Please, Nightengale?"
Jaskier had buried his face in the old blanket, but Yennefer could still hear his muffled reply of "No! F**k off!"
She had rubbed the back of his shoulder and murmured comfortingly to him, "Alright, I'm sorry. Here, lie down now."
They took care of him over the following week, glad when they started to see improvement. He no longer sounded like he was struggling for each breath, or that he was going to cough up a river. Or that he was going to stop breathing...
He was finally sleeping comfortably, breathing easier, and feeling more like himself. Geralt and Yennefer knew he was feeling much better because now he had the energy to lie on the couch and whine loudly, in a needy voice, that he was dying.
#the witcher#the witcher headcanon#the witcher modern au#the witcher netflix#twn#geralt#geralt of rivia#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#yennefer#yennefer of vengerberg#geraskier#geraskifer#geraskefer#yenskier#yennskier#yenneskier#yennaskier#breathe headcanon#soft!yennefer#jaskier whump
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So, if I know my Mesa Island geography, we should be getting pretty close to Songshroom Marsh. Wonder if Yoyo's still hanging around here?
That's, uh... that's... not an ominous name or anything....
This place... doesn't seem quite as fun as Luana made it sound.
Okay, full disclosure, I was actually trying to drown myself in the mire because I want to tell Quarble about all the cool stuff I did.
But this is cool too. I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes attempted suicide comes with neat prizes. If they ever write a fable about all the things I learned on my travels, I'll be sure to include that.
Holy shit, the Magic Seashell? The one from Watcher Island that lets you breathe underwater?
Wait, no, I can already do that for some reason. Plus, it doesn't really look that cute. Luana said it was a cute pink clamshell thing. She was very excited about it. But this more resembles a slug.
That does sound like it relates to the magic Docarri shells, though. Hmm....
Yeah. Uh. What the hell happened to this place? Luana didn't like it very much but what she described pales in comparison to how tortured and gross the marsh is.
Also, she called it Songshroom but the sign at the entrance said Quillshroom. So. Obviously some changes have taken place.
Oh, is it the cool magic seashell I found? 'Cause I found it. You can't have it back. It's mine now, as laid down in the Mine Now, Fucko bylaw.
Primal Fear... fuck, I know that name. It's... somewhere. Maybe one of Teaks's stories? I don't know. I've heard it before. I know I've heard it before.
No, wait! It was one of the volumes of prophecy that Yoyo kept in her cabin. She had a book on Primal Fear. That's where I know the name from.
Is. That. Where the living mushrooms come from?
...Luana wrote about them singing. The ones I've seen have not been singing. I don't think they're enjoying their fungal lives anymore.
With gusto.
I can't believe you told me to fight it! Do you have any idea how humiliated I was!? That was the most embarrassing moment of my goddamn life.
And I once screwed up Cloudstep practice so hard I ended up dangling from a tree branch by my pants around my ankles. I met Quarble on a return trip through a challenge I'd already solved. So the competition is steep.
How many times have you sent members of my order to their graves to pick a fight with a harmless glowball minding his fucking business!?
FUCK. No wonder Luana called probably-you an assclown!
WHAT. NO. I don't really see much relevance or importance in your stories - I think the pear tree one might have been about Yoyo maybe? - but I've been enjoying them nonetheless.
I'll stop touching your cabinet if you keep sharing stories with me. ._. Pweese?
Oh, there's the singing mushrooms. Okay, so they are still here.
They. Uh. They don't look very cheerful, though. Luana said they were cheerful.
Gotta say, not a fan of the titular quillshrooms. Their quills are incredibly difficult to dodge, especially when they fire while I'm in midair. What total assholes.
As a botanophobe, I can't be surprised by this, but fungus is far more dangerous than turtles.
...how stupid do I feel like being today?
I am... passably competent at the Cloudstep. I think I could--
Okay, I want it on record that I actually made it, but was killed by a Quillshroom afterwards. After being thoroughly tenderized by spikes in the process of making it but that's beside the point. The point is I'm awesome and this is definitely going down as a W in my book.
Not important. What's important is HEY BESTIE, check out where we are? Yeah, that's right, I'm blazing trails through Quillshroom Marsh with my expert jumping and profound getting-stabbed proficiencies.
I know we were in Howling Grotto last we talked but I... found the exit of my own accord and nothing else happened. Now we're here. Trying to not be here as expediently as possible because I don't want to be a mushroom.
...
Why is this my life?
...we've found one secret path beneath the mire. I wonder... This does look very suspicious.
They thought they could hide their secrets from me. Joke's on them, I am highly skilled in observation and pattern recog--
I think I hate this place.
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Silken Touch - Roach/Gaz
GAZ WEEK 2023 - ROPEPLAY/BONDAGE
Gaz is a ever curious man, so when Roach confesses he enjoys bondage, he finds himself ready and interested in trying it out
Or read on AO3
Contains: NSFW, T4T, Trans Gaz & Roach, bondage, sex toys (strapon & vibrator), use of words clit, cunt, tdick, pussy
Gaz’s breaths were hitched, and his body tinged with sensitivity. His limbs were restrained with pretty soft pink ropes, binding his wrists to either leg and forcing them to be half bent, with rope just below and above the knee. The position was called ‘the crab’ and it had him feeling exposed where he sat, naked on top of the bed.
It was all Roach’s idea. An avid enjoyer of bondage, Roach had confessed the interest early on in their relationship and Gaz’s curiosity was immediately peeked. They were not able to pursue this kink until they were on leave, but they had practiced similar things in the past. Tying Gaz’s hands together with a belt or knotting his pants at his ankles. Simple attempts at restraint, to give Gaz some familiarity. Dipping his toe in, although he wished sometimes to dive straight into the deep end. Impatient and eager as he always was.
Tonight was to be their first full foray and Gaz was so excited. Even now, after being tied and left to wait, his heart sang a trembling beat in his chest and ears. Eyes eagerly watching Roach take his sweet time undressing and getting everything ready.
Just sitting there, Gaz was already growing wet and hard. Apart from seeing his partner’s gorgeous body reveal itself under clothes, his restraints were a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.
The ropes were soft but strong, with just enough give not to hurt but enough to chaff. Sure to leave markings once removed. His tdick ached between his legs, the stimulation of skin not enough to get off but he was close to it, just needing a little push.
Gaz may have felt embarrassed by it but he knew Roach would never disapprove, in fact it would more likely thrill him. Watching how his favorite kink thrilled his lover as much as it did him.
Finally, finally , Roach was done. Naked apart from briefs and black strap-on tied over the top. Freckled skin, dashed with scars, strong hands and a warm smile. Fuck, Gaz felt himself wiggle a little against his bindings. Wanting to reach and touch Roach, cup his face and see him melt into it, kiss him and feel him push against his lips, touch at him and make him moan only for him. But he couldn’t, and he knew that he might not get any of those opportunities tonight. And although that made him sad, it made his need for whatever Roach gave all the sweeter.
Roach closened to Gaz on the bed, looking over his immaculate handiwork and smiling. “What colour?”
“Green, so green,” Gaz said, voice coming out breathy.
Roach only smiled, kissing Gaz’s forehead. Gaz could not help but lean into it, wanting more. Almost vocalizing his mourning when those soft lips left him.
“I was thinking we start off with this?” Roach held up a cordless magic wand, a toy familiar to both of them.
Gaz gave an eager nod, cock twitching at the thought of finally being touched.
Roach turned the vibration on with a click, the faint whirring the only audible sound in the room at this time. Letting the toy ‘burr’ just away from touching Gaz’s skin, Roach cupped his lover’s cheeks urging him to look at him. When their eyes met, Roach was all the sweetest of smiles. Taking Gaz’s lips in his in a tender, soft kiss.
Gaz let out a long-held breath, relieved for the familiarity of Roach’s lips. Pressing what he could, wanting more. Insatiable for any affection Roach would give him. Always.
The vibrator lowered, touching at Gaz’s inner thigh. Exposing Gaz to the sensation as it slowly crept down. Making Gaz wriggle in eagerness, hitching his hips if possible for even an inch closer to that imminent pleasure.
Roach was not above teasing his partner, he had done such things in the past. But perhaps he took pity on how needy Gaz was for the toy and his kiss, so he did not pause or mock Gaz any more than he already had. The toy making an imminent landing to vibrate against Gaz’s throbbing dick.
Gaz whimpered into Roach’s mouth, grateful for finally getting what he needed most - outside of Roach himself, of course. His body twitched as ripples of hot pleasure coursed through him as the toy rolled his hard tdick at a steady, delicious pace.
Their kiss was very quickly turning into Roach pecking at Gaz’s open mouth, as moan after moan soon brokered past so he could no longer reciprocate Roach’s affections. His climax inching closer with every second.
Roach, one hand busy holding the wand aloft, could not sign. Nor would Gaz doubtfully be able to see it, head rolled back and eyes shut tight. Instead, Roach wrote on Gaz’s naked chest over his heart with the tip of his finger.
Pretty. Good. This praise was then sent straight to Gaz’s dick, making his toes curl and forcing his limbs to strain against the ropes again. Making dull stinging pain mix with pleasure.
Cum. Do it. For me.
Gaz did not need Roach to say much else, gritting his teeth and tensing his muscles as his first orgasm came crashing down like a tidal wave. His legs squeezed shut, forcing Roach’s hand in place and pressing the toy on his cock. Small crescendos happening thereafter as he rode his orgasm out until overstimulation had him finally pulling away.
As Gaz grew limp, there was a click as the wand was turned off. Roach’s hands touched near where the rope bit into Gaz’s skin. Soothing the area around and encouraging blood flow as Gaz’s heart steadied again.
There was then a soft tap of hand against his outer thigh, Roach attracting Gaz’s floating attention back to him. Gaz obeyed, although his eyes were still half-lidded and his head was still light as air.
“Ok to move on? Do you need a break or want me to undo the ropes?”
Gaz put the effort in to shake his head. “‘M good, love. Just needing a moment to catch my breath. I want to keep going, though.”
“Good,” Roach said with his everpresent kind smile mirroring his satisfaction. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
Gaz let out a huff, “What do you think?” Then wiggling his hips a little as he spread his legs. Displaying his cock and slick cunt.
Roach’s smile curled into an excited grin. “Next round ok?”
“Green as grass,” Gaz said, licking his lips. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Roach audibly snickered, adoring how his lover’s ever-visible eagerness. Going between Gaz’s legs, he held his fake cock in hand. Rubbing the length against Gaz’s lips, gathering up slick and awakening the hungry flames in Gaz’s belly once more.
Gaz watched onwards, biting his lower lips as Roach rubbed the tip against his engorged clit. Forcing out a grunt outwardly, the bud of nerves still so sensitive. Roach seemed to catch on, not lingering long before aligning the head with Gaz’s entrance.
Pressing inside, Gaz let out a gasp at the intrusion. His walls squeezing but welcoming Roach’s cock inside. Filling him up until it was down to the hilt. Roach paused, letting Gaz enjoy just how full he felt. Relishing the slight stretch and pull that Roach’s cock provided.
Once Gaz seemed eager to carry on, eyes steadying and looking to Roach with a newly invigorated hunger, Roach started moving. Hands-on both of Gaz’s knees, Roach rocked his hips back and forth. Inching in and out at a slow, dragged-out pace. Pressing right to that perfect spot that had Gaz gasping and shivering around him.
Roach’s eyes were warm but dark with hunger, watching Gaz soon melt once more into pleasure, soaking up the sight of Gaz’s pretty body held together only by rope. His eyes travelled down to where they met. Pale, nude silicone, wrapped in Gaz’s dark slickened lips. Taking him in so well, so desperately. Reluctant to let go with each unsheathing. Biting his lip as he noticed the slight bulging of Gaz’s stomach. Where Roach’s cock pushed slightly upwards to be visible under muscle and skin.
Roach felt his own briefs grow ever soaked with his own juices, so turned on by making Gaz feel so good. Aroused by how much trust Gaz gave him and how much pleasure he gave back to him in turn. It made his chest ache and heart soar, moving him emotionally even amongst his arousal.
“R-Roach, hah- love, ‘m close. Just a bit quicker, an’ I’ll cum. Fuck, you’re so good to me, bug. Ngh- So deep inside, god- your driving my mad, bug.”
The praise was like molten lava in Roach’s veins, warming his insides and making his own cock ache under the strap and soaked briefs. Determined to ensure Gaz came, without even touching his clit, Roach obeyed Gaz’s pleading.
Roach’s hands moved from his knees to his hips, holding at his sides and tugging him onto his cock as his thrusts quickened. The snapping of Roach’s hips against Gaz’s ass, as well as Gaz’s sweet moans and cries was a chorus of music in Roach’s ears. Making him even hum, as he fucked into Gaz with erotic fervor wanting to see Gaz come undone on his cock. Making him cum again and again, bringing him all the bliss and pleasure he so rightfully deserved. After trusting him with his ropes, being such a good sport, and being patient in his learning. So open-minded and eager from the beginning.
Gaz soon came again, letting out a long moan as his body stiffened once more, legs squeezing at Roach’s sides and body quivering as his second orgasm washed over him.
Roach was kind and pulled himself out after a few moments into the afterglow, letting Gaz come down from on high and enjoy the sense of fullness just a little bit more before it left him.
Gaz lay limp on the bed, still restrained by pink ropes, thighs wet with slick and forehead glistening with sweat. Letting his mind go comfortably blank as Roach moved somewhere nearby.
Unbuckling his strap and abandoning his underwear, Roach was near Gaz again. Kissing sweet kisses to either of his cheeks, making Gaz sigh in contentment. His hands kind and careful on his surely over sensitive skin. Undoing Gaz’s bindings until Gaz’s limbs flopped free and loose. Legs stretched out and hands weakly reaching up to hold Roach’s head close. Softly tugging him to kiss him on the lips, needing silent, loving affirmation as Roach kindly rubbed life back into Gaz’s tender arms and legs.
Eventually, once his body had cooled and his breaths calmed, Gaz asked, “What about you? You want me to give you some attention?”
Roach gave him a shake of ‘no’, “I’m fine. You must be tired.”
Gaz frowned, “Not enough to not get you off. C’mon Roach, let me help you.” Roach bit his lip, seemably tempted but torn. Perhaps worried he was overworking his lover. “Bug, I want to see you enjoy yourself too. Do it for me? Please?” His sincerity was obvious and Roach could never deny those handsome, begging eyes.
“Okay but if you feel tired we can stop at any time.”
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll be taking me to my happy place, Roachy. Between those thighs.” His eyes lowered to the still simmering heat between Roach’s thighs.
Roach let out a huff, catching on to what Gaz would like to do. “Fine. Call it your treat, since you were so well-behaved.”
Gaz actually snorted, lowering himself until he lay fully on the bed. “You can tell I love you, because I only behave for you.”
Both of them had giggled then, soft and warm. Exchanging a kiss before Roach got up on his knees and lowered his own hot heat to Gaz’s hungry lips and tongue. Taking Gaz to just where he belonged.
#gazweek2023#gaz call of duty#kyle gaz garrick#gaz mw2#gaz cod#roach cod#roach call of duty#gaz x roach#roach x gaz#gazroach#roachgaz#call of duty modern warfare 2#konig call of duty#cod mw2#fanfic#fanfic commissions
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Floor 1 characters
Massachusetts
For Massivehugetitties he works in the back part of the snack bar. Making foods for those in the cafeteria. He makes lots of fruits and veggies n what not and makes them look good so children will eat them willingly.
He also makes more filling stuff like chicken tenders back there, along with mac n cheese. Typical stuff you ate at a restaurant when you were a kid if you were picky.
Mass’s clothing style is heavily based off plants, kinda Ms.Frizzle from the Magic School Bus style, his pants have different plant designs placed all over them and his shirt is mushroom themed.
He’s also has a big body, mans is thicc. Also with this I’m going Freddy style lmfao, what does he store in his weird stomach void? That’s up to interpretation.
Illinois
Ideas I have for this dude is that he’s also a bot that hangs out at the snack bar. He’s the dude who controls the front area and doesn’t cook or make foods like Massachusetts in the back (He sneaks chip bags to children sometimes if they’re being really nice).
What I had in mind for his clothes was something like this. Illinois wears pastel colorblock overalls with too many pockets. He shoves snacks into these pockets and sneaks them to children. For his shirts it’s one of those super baggy yarn sweaters. The sweater is white and it has paint stains on it because I said so.
He likes to hang out with children and can double as security because half the time he has literally nothing else to do besides watch the cafeteria area of the first floor.
There’s also SO many different pins and clip on stuff that were put on his overalls. Children contribute to this little collection. They give him pins and buttons and other stuff they find for him to keep in the large pocket on his overall’s chest area.
Texas
The duddeee, for him I gave him classic farmboy design, the jean overalls and button up along with that cowboy hat. He works in the gardening area and teaches children how to grow a plants and in general does works with dirt.
Texas works with children from 5-8 and he starts out with giving them notebooks to doodle their plants in and put down how to take care of it in case future them wants to continue taking care of plants.
He keeps seed packets in that big pockets on the overall’s chest area. Seed packets are put there every day because he gives them as starter plants to children, to practice growing plants at home and take care of them.
Texas is just about covered in dirt near always and sometimes it gets into that robotic body of his and it doesn’t handle it well. The state’s might handle it well but their body replacements can’t.
He also has some tensions with Oklahoma and is always trying to be better than him but physically can’t because he wasn’t meant to do what Oklahoma teaches.
Oklahoma
Oklahoma teaches ages 9-12 and higher level stuff than what Texas teaches. For him, children learn how to handle gardening tools. He teaches how to handle bigger plants instead of things like flowers.
Oklahoma teaches how to handle food plants and that journal Texas gave them is continued. It’s doodled in yes, but Oklahoma suggests putting in more details to taking care of the plant. This journal is also used to note what plants look like.
His appearance consists of you guessed it, more overallsss (it’s gonna be a consistent theme because this is the gardening floor). The overalls have too many dirt and grass/plant stains. They’re green and brown stained. His shirt has a feather theme to it, the feathers are all over the button up, pattern stuff 👍.
Oklahoma at the end of the camp introduces the next topic with small activities in the last week.
New York
New York’s role in this thing is to teach how to make food from scratch or how to make them from home grown plants. The age group he deals with is 13-16 years old as (typically) they can be trusted with utensils such as knives, sharper scissors, potato peelers, etc. (the younger children might try to use the potato peeler on their own skin, same with the cheese graters)
New York is one of the few bots that can actually travel between a floor or two. He can travel between floor 1 and floor -6 which is the floor with the kitchen/cooking classes. He goes here to grab utensils or maybe an item or two they don’t have.
With the cooking and everything, food is shipped to the place to be used in New York’s classes as obviously everything grown in the area doesn’t grow that fast.
His general appearance consists of a grey shirt with black rolled up sleeves. He carries around a bag with a similar look to a tote bag or a messenger bag, a mix between the two. He has long boots, similar to rain boots and has baggy pants tucked into them
New Jersey
New Jersey works with New York mainly, he’s mainly there to sit and chill and watch the teenagers to make sure they don’t attempt something stupid.
He functions as security for the floor and like Freddy from the canon game he has a little compartment in his stomach area to put confiscated items. Typically it’s a tool supplied by one of the other bots and other times it’s something brought from home.
If it’s an item brought from home it’s given back to the parent and if it’s from the place it’s given back to the floor it belongs to.
New Jersey is also one of the bots that can travel in between floors, this is only so he can return items that have been stolen or find the parents of a child that has a banned item. But New Jersey mainly resides on floor 1
His general appearance consists of of a trench coat and jeans, he pretty much stole old WTTT NY’s trench coat.
California
California mainly roams around the cafeteria floor as a collective art canvas. His body is mainly white so he can be doodled on. (The cafeteria has crayons that comes with the children’s menu).
He gets scrubbed of all the drawings each night by a lucky employee (they are not lucky at all, California is stubborn as fuck) leaving him free for new drawings to take place on him
Occasionally he roams around the gardening area and he brings crayons with him and he lets the other bots doodle on him. He roams around at bight as he’s not allowed to go outside the cafeteria during the day.
His body consists of mainly being white but he has those overalls that aren’t pants but more shorts in a way. They’re a soft baby blue
#welcome to the statehouse#welcome to the table#wttsh#wttt#wttt au#wttt fnaf au#wttt massachusetts#wttt illinois#wttt oklahoma#wttt texas#wttt new york#wttt new jersey#wttt california
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❛ it's all my fault, isn't it? i ruin everything i touch. ❜ with any ship?
I’m high and thinking about magical things and then I started thinking about the jasco witch au So <3 yeah idk if anyone remembers that one <3
——
Bosco watched from where she stood, frozen in place as Jasmine fought the urge to cry, her shoulders hunched over, shaking like a leaf. They wanted to apologize, to shove the nasty words they’d said back down their throat, but they couldn’t bring themselves to do it, their stupid pride suddenly more important than wiping the look of pure dispair off of Jasmine’s pretty face.
“W-why would you say that? And why would you yell? You know I hate yelling,” Jasmine whimpered.
Anger still simmered in her blood, but Bosco felt like she’d keel over from the guilt. But still, she kept her resolve and said nothing, didn’t make a move until Jasmine’s face scrunched up and she ran off out the cottage front door just as she started to cry.
Bosco flopped onto the couch, her own hands starting to shake as the voices in her head yelled at her for being so stupid. How could she have been so stupid? Jasmine was the only person in the world that could manage to love her, that she was sure of and she’d ruined it with her stupid anger. She couldn’t even really remember why they’d fought in the first place.
They didn’t know how long they’d sat there until a little glimmering speck caught her eye, she soon realized the speck wasn’t a speck but a fairy, Willow at that. The tiny sprite flew right in front of Bosco’s face, a scowl on her own.
Bosco just realized then she was crying, sniffling as she tried to speak. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it? I ruin everything I touch.”
Willow’s resolve softened a bit, her arms dropping from being crossed at her chest. “Ruined? No, Bosco, nothing is ruined. She’s just-“
“She hates me, I know she does and I can’t even be mad at her for it.”
The fairy sighed and perched herself on Bosco’s shoulder. “She doesn’t hate you, but it would be easier for you if she did, right?”
A pang of guilt stabbed her in the chest as they nodded. “Sometimes I wish she did hate me. It feels like I keep hurting her but she sticks around for some reason all because of a stupid potion.”
“No,” Willow shook her head, “you know just as well as I do that those spells are only temporary, she grew to love you for real. And you were never affected by the potion spilling, so you grew to love her too. She’s so tender hearted and you’re not used to that.”
“I’m not,” Bosco sniffed, “she deserves someone who is, someone soft and someone kind.”
“You are soft and kind and I know she agrees with that, she thinks the world of you. Even when she came outside, she cried about being angry with you but only after a few moments did she shift to crying about how you reject love because no one ever showed you the love you deserve. You’re so lucky that she sees that in you and isn’t scared of your pushing people away.”
Their shoulders slumped, trying to shield their face so Willow wouldn’t see her cry.
“Just come talk to her,” Willow urged, flittering away.
Bosco was reluctant, but followed her out the front door and to where Jasmine sat on an overgrown toadstool, knees tucked to her chest while the other fairies of Willow’s trio spoke to her softly. Though, they quieted as they noticed Bosco, forcing Willow to turn around to see what they were staring at.
“Bosco, I’m so-“
“No,” Bosco stopped her gently, taking her hands as she stood up, “please don’t apologize, I’m the one who needs to first. I’m so sorry I yelled at you, I don’t want to lose you.”
“Bosco,” Jasmine cooed, cupping their face, “you won’t ever lose me. I love you. But I think there are some things we need to work on together.”
“Yeah, I know. Too bad there’s not a spell for this,” she laughed bitterly.
Jasmine kissed her softly. “We’ll work it out, okay? It’ll all be okay as long as we keep being honest and kind to each other.”
Bosco nodded and kissed her back, determined not to screw this up.
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[████████ 100%] — for @astralmysteria !
remembering the warmth of a hand once held, he sees you amidst the ocean of civilians, and freezes you with his gaze.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 wriothelesy met you during the years of his forlorn youth; and, on that day, seeing you helping a melusine hand out her soups, your shy but warm words settled comfortably inside his chest as you fiddled inside your bag for some heated packets to hand to the cold. the kind words of a stranger offered him a hint of solace and courage. neither you nor he remembers what you said on that say, but he brings the feelings with him from that to this day.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 a week after, merely a few days before everything would all go down, he came back for a final time, only to find that you had only settled there for a trip, and had left just a day prior. it would be long before the two of you see each other again.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 he was just perfect for you. i had given it a lot of thought, and matched you with two different people prior to this, but ultimately, he won your hand! wriothesley has always loved your empathy and compassion, your tenderness towards the melsuines, your strive to seeing things through to it’s very best. he gets very soft around you, i think even remembering you gets him lightly smiling during work. he is much like his vision externally, distant and slightly cold. your characteristics allow him to relax and bring his walls down.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 you allow him to feel at peace, lending him aid in his work from your attentiveness and intelligence, your seeking to being helpful turning its head healthy in this case. the two of you please each other often in terms of interactions, feeling happy and light around one another. the way you spoke was very youthful, i almost thought you were younger than me. i paired you up with a more serious and mature-sque man because of this. wriothesley would find your appearance and your characteristics and countenance very adorable and endearing! when he meets you again, he falls hard, heart in ears palpations hard. he’s so full of excitement he trips over himself (metaphorically and emotionally), and flusters before approaching you. he definitely heeded advice from the other melsuines in order to progress your relationship, trying to act like a gentleman with hand kisses and bouquets.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 he also pairs with you well from what he brings about to the relationship. you’re anxious, indecisive, fearful, awkward, shy, clumsy, with low self worth. wriothesley would so subtly bring your esteem up you wouldnt even notice, a kind of progression that is steady and consistent. he’s not very extroverted either, but he has an enormous amount of social experience and skills he leverages to read your mood and cheering you up with thoughtful actions or distracting you whenever you need. he’s been in prison after all, social networking is very important. but to describe, he’ll show you some magic tricks hes picked up here and there, he’ll joke around with you a lot, your sassy sarcastic attitude a welcome for some delightful bickering.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 he definitely teases you about your height and your jitteriness, hiding your things in plain sight while he pretends to be immersed in his work. damn you wriothesley! he’ll make sure you dont overwork yourself, helping you stop your people pleasing. his comfort and love is very tender, and he holds you equally so. especially getting you the best care he can when you have those abdominal migraines.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 acts of service is definitely his way to go, and he loves receiving it back from you too <3 he never forgets an anniversary, brings you flowers for every date, and buys the most thoughtful presents. he finds your singing endearing, and he sort of looks like a cat which makes you laugh at their similarities sometimes. he just finds your hobbies very interesting and adorable, definitely taking quizzes with you and reading and offering thoughts on your writing. the relationship is definitely full of the two of you running around and taking care of each other! a lot of returns and affection, so sweet that candy will melt. he missed you so, so much. please, stay as long as you can.
╭──╯ . . . . . DENDRO. —ꕥ YOUR WEAPON IS AN IRON WARFAN.
the reason i gave you this vision is because you seem to be someone who is extremely interconnected and loving of interpersonal relationships. everyone is, but with your characteristics and your desire to help others and please them, dendro was my best pick for you: dendro is the element of bonding, that pairs superbly well with every other element. elements do not have only one face to it, but this element seems more inclined to you. you desire wisdom to overcome your fears and your shortcomings.
╭──╯ . . . . .HOW?
one day, you had a horrid dream,
the dark night was cold and emboldened,
it creep onto you, hooked into your shadow,
your family were all gone, their rooms empty and amiss,
only your cat remained, and a creature who seemed like a demon,
he possessed you, and hurt the ones around you, blood splattering near your feet and the neighbors who had come to check on what the screams had been for
“mysteria would never do such a thing?! so why…”
the creature was going to kill you, but your cat suddenly spoke aloud, “follow me!”
and the creature chased you out the house, and you followed your cat who led the way
the dream had become a reality, and suddenly, you came upon another world,
the creature followed you there, and there was nowhere left to run. the cliffside was the only place that awaited you.
the moment you pushed that creature off the cliff out of self defense ,
your vision elapsed into being.
YOUR NATION OF RESIDENCE || SUMERU
the land of wisdom, and after the bestowment of Duchess to your name, fontaine, the land of justice. a former student, a graduated scholar.
╭──╯ . . . . . RACE: ELFEN
characterized by their pointed ears, an intelligent species of long livelihoods. it would be redundant for me to continuously state it again, but all your traits point toward elf!
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A Cottage Witch and her Dragon 18
(You can read the rest of this story on AO3 here)
It was Monday again, and Serenity was feeling a little blue about the endless weekly cycle of her life. Usually, this didn't bother her. Living a simple life where not much changed besides her daily conversations with her neighbors was usually comforting. Perhaps she was blue about something else, and it was making living a simple life a bit difficult when usually it was a comfort.
Serenity sat at her booth and shivered. Spring was here, but the mornings were still cold. Serenity had been at the market since early morning, setting up long before any of the shops in Valley Commons' market square had opened.
Around nine that morning, Serenity noticed some people loitering outside Maury's chocolate shop. Slowly, more and more people started to gather, forming something like a haphazard queue outside. Serenity saw Liz and Lucy in the line, Lucy chatting excitedly at anyone who happened to be within earshot. Serenity smiled at this, feeling fondness for her little neighbor well up within her.
Serenity and Maury were friendly. Perhaps they weren't good friends, but they enjoyed each other's occasional company either in Serenity's cottage or Maury's apartment above the chocolate shop, drinking tea together and chatting about magic, or their respective business ventures. Dragon looked forward to each visit with unparalleled excitement. He was convinced Marcus, Maury's snake familiar, was the coolest being on the planet.
Serenity hadn't talked to Maury lately, so she wasn't sure what was up, but she figured it he had either advertised a sale, or a new flavor of chocolate. He often rotated the chocolate flavors he offered, and every time there was a new flavor or a returning favorite, a line formed around the building. Serenity would have to hope there was still chocolate left when she closed up shop for the day.
At ten o'clock exactly, James, the young clerk for Maury's Chocolate Shop, opened the door and placed a sign outside that loudly proclaimed "NEW FLAVOR TRY OUR TENDERNESS CHOCOLATE." Then he gestured for the first people in line to enter the shop and went back inside.
The day continued to pass by. Serenity chatted with some of her regulars. Even if they didn't have any intention of buying something that day, this was how news and ideas were spread in Valley Commons. The people were all connected by many things.
Some of these things were bigger, such as social class, shared religion, or shared beliefs. But the important things were smaller. All of the children who ran around the neighborhood had a connection to the man who sold roasted nuts. He gave them his unsold leftovers, because he was a kind man and he saw his own children in their eyes. Poverty makes generosity one of the greatest virtues.
Serenity could see the web of connections between people, if she concentrated. And this web told her that no one was unimportant, and everyone should be treated with kindness and respect, because everyone is connected to every other single person by their shared humanity. This was the first part of the web her teacher had taught her to see.
Even people Serenity considered cruel and unkind had this connection, though sometimes it was less strong. But Serenity's teacher had told her something very wise. Her teacher had not been nurturing, but she was still a very kind person, in her own way. And the wisdom she passed onto Serenity was this: humanity is something we bring out in each other. When you are suffering, and your friend comes to comfort you, you have brought out the humanity in them. For some people, it is very hard to draw this out, and sometimes it takes an unfortunately long time to find the last glimmer of humanity left in a person, but it is there. It's always there, if you look hard enough.
Serenity's teacher had passed on another piece of wisdom, but this one was harder for Serenity to swallow.
"Serenity," she had said. "You've lost your family, and I'm not the kind of person that can give you a family again. You are suffering and lonely. It's natural for you to find a way to cope with all this. There's a part of you that wants to make sure no one ever hurts like you're hurting ever again. And there's a part of you that thinks 'if I suffer, why shouldn't everyone else suffer?' You have a choice in which path you want to take. This is the point where someone becomes kind, or they become cruel.
But it's important to remember this moment, because it will help you when confronted with cruel people down the road. You need to really take to heart that you could become cruel, and that if you did, you would be cruel because you are suffering. You have me to guide you, but if someone else lost their family, and they did not have a wholesome person to guide them, they could easily become cruel.
The source of cruelty is always suffering. It doesn't mean we forgive the cruelty; it means we have compassion for the suffering, but we do not have to forgive to have this compassion. Remember that, when you meet someone who barely has any humanity left in them. They may be cruel, they may be unforgivable, but they got there because they are still suffering, and you could easily have been in their place if you had lived their life instead of yours."
Serenity understood this lesson, but it was still hard sometimes to find that compassion in herself. And sometimes she plain didn't want to. But she did her best, because she had learned the hard way that compassion wasn't for the other person, it was for her. Perhaps your compassion will never reach the other person, but when you are angry or hate a person, that eats you up inside and causes you to suffer too. So even if she had to force herself, she always looked for a reason to feel compassion towards people, even as she actively fought back against their cruelty or refused to forgive them. You can have compassion without forgiveness. You can have compassion while actively working to prevent someone from causing harm. Some days she was better at it than others.
Serenity's reminiscence was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Liz and Lucy.
"Serenity! We got you chocolate!" Lucy ran up to her and held out a little package.
"Thank you!" Serenity said, taking the chocolate from her and smiling up at them both from where she was sitting.
"We know you'll be stuck at your stall all day, so we got you one of the new tenderness chocolates," Liz said, returning her smile. "It's... very good."
Serenity noticed the pause, but didn't say anything.
"It's good! It made me feel soft," said Lucy, suddenly bashful.
"Soft is a good feeling," Serenity smiled at her.
"Eat it! Eat it!"
"Lucy, Serenity has to work. She might want to eat it when she gets home, so she can savor it." Liz turned to Serenity. "You might want to eat it in private. It made me cry."
"Thank you for the warning," Serenity said, her heart squeezing with excitement.
She was definitely looking forward to this new experience. Serenity might not be romantic, but romance is not the only thing that can make us feel tenderness, and she was excited to see what tenderness the chocolate could draw out of her.
The anticipation of going home and trying a new thing made the day exciting. Some of the market-goers that stopped by her booth had tried the chocolate, and they all had different things to say about it.
Mrs Cuttle, the wife of the leather worker who rented a stall across from Serenity, stopped by to compliment the shawl Serenity had made for her as part of a commission from her husband. She mentioned she had tried the chocolate, and Serenity, with eager anticipation, asked what it was like.
"Oh, it's really something else," Mrs Cuttle said of the chocolate. "It goes deep down inside you and shows you things you hadn't thought of in so long. So many little memories. It's a wonderful thing. Maury is doing wonderful things for this community."
"It's amazing," another market wanderer said. "It makes you feel so full and soft."
Every person Serenity asked about the chocolate strengthened her excitement to try this chocolate. She didn't feel like she was lacking anything by not being romantic, but tenderness is so often only associated with romantic love and parental love, and Serenity didn't have either of those to feel. So she was intensely curious what the chocolate would show her.
Finally, evening came and Serenity packed up her teas and handmade items. The table and chair she used stayed with the booth so the other person who rented this booth on Tuesdays and Thursdays could use it. Serenity was glad she didn't have to figure out a way to take them home. All she needed to bring all her wares to market was use a backpack she had put a shrinking enchantment on, but you can only use it for things small enough to fit through the opening of the backpack.
Arriving home after a long day of anticipation, Serenity threw her backpack haphazardly onto her chair and rummaged around in it until she found the chocolate. Dragon, who had stayed home all day as he often did, was laying in his bed next to the fireplace, where coals still glowed. Serenity had recently taught him how to keep the fire going, and she suspected he aided the fire a little bit with magic, because there was a faint cloud of magic around the coals.
"Guess what!" She told him.
Dragon's ears perked up, and he lazily opened one eye. A sleepy questioning sensation came from him.
"Maury has a new chocolate flavor!"
Dragon sent a feeling of "that's nice" that didn't hide his indifference. After all, dragons cannot eat chocolate without getting sick. So why should he care?
"You're no fun."
Dragon sent a feeling of "yeah, so what?" His sass was never ending.
"Fine, fine. You keep sleeping. I want to try this chocolate!"
All she got was a huff in response.
Serenity looked at the chocolate. She hadn't bothered to ask what flavor it was. It was apparently enough of an experience that none of her customers had thought to mention this simple detail, either.
Serenity took her bite. A dark chocolate shell broke, and a soft, sweet and salty caramel gushed through the cracks. The caramel didn't have the odd aftertaste some caramels have. It was soft and the salt perfectly accented the sweetness. It was absolutely delicious.
The magic didn't take long. First, Serenity felt something welling up from deep, deep within her. Her heart squeezed and her chest and belly felt warm. There was a softness to it, as it came up from within and spread through her entire body, heart, and mind. It was gentle and yet fierce, a feeling of love that makes you soft for others and hard against anyone who would hurt them.
Mrs Roberts unexpectedly popped into her mind. Serenity thought of a secret she kept. Serenity's joint tea was made for effect rather than taste, so it had an odd flavor that Mr Roberts didn't like. So Mrs Roberts secretly paid Serenity extra to put cinnamon and hibiscus in large amounts into the tea. Mr Roberts had no idea he was getting custom blended tea.
The tenderness of it overwhelmed her. She thought of the expression of love on Mrs Robert's face when she came to pick up the tea, and of the gentleness Serenity herself felt, when faced with a secret born out of love that had lasted decades.
She realized she was feeling a gentle tenderness, as if Mrs Robert's love had inspired a bit of love in Serenity's own heart for the elderly couple. Serenity wasn't as close to them, but she thought of their neighborly practice of popping by to borrow a few eggs for a recipe, and the nice evenings she had spent with them. Her heart squeezed. She did love these people, and that love inspired a red hot fierceness, and also a gentle softness.
Dragon stirred, catching Serenity's attention, and suddenly it was his turn to inspire this tenderness. Serenity thought back to getting his spirit egg, and how it had taken her a month to get it to hatch, but how worth it it was to have him there with her. He was so precious to her. She often took him for granted, because he was always with her and had just become a fact of life.
But looking at him now, she was filled with wonder. Wonder that he existed. Wonder that she would never be alone again. Wonder at this little life, still learning about the world at such a fast pace. She felt overwhelming warmth blossom in her chest. This little life, so small and yet so big, was so precious to her. She didn't know how to live without him. She prayed she would never have to learn. For him, her tenderness felt like caring for a small life that depended on her, and made her feel like she would do anything to protect him, and even more to make sure he was able to live a happy life.
Serenity looked around her cottage, and suddenly the web of connections that was The Great Soul Of All Things became visible to her. It was clear why the magic had shown her this. Almost everything in this room had some connection to Granny Thomas.
Granny. Serenity had been without family from the time she was sixteen, until she moved into this cottage two years ago. Granny barged into her cottage to check out the new neighbor, and instinctively knew "this is a person who needs love." And Granny was someone who loved with a vengeance.
Serenity's chest squeezed again, and she felt such fierce love that reached deep, deep inside her. Down to her core, Serenity loved this old witch who had walked into her life and refused to leave. Granny was full of love, and she wasn't stingy with who she gave it to, and Serenity wanted so badly to learn from and be like Granny.
Suddenly, a memory flashed before her mind. Serenity remembered the day she had been too sick to go to market, and the entire neighborhood had taken care of her. It was a memory she treasured deeply, but secretly, the things she treasured most of all was just a passing moment from that day.
Serenity didn't have a thermometer. So that day, Granny had gently laid a hand across her forehead to check for a fever, and now Serenity could see the tenderness of it. It was the tenderness of a caretaker who deeply loved the person in their charge.
The gesture was brief, but at the time it had almost made Serenity cry. She hadn't had contact like that in a very long time. It reminded her of distant, fuzzy memories of her mother doing the same when she was ill as a child. It made her feel loved and cared for in a way she hadn't experienced in many years. The feel of Granny's hands, cool against her hot forehead, had been such a relief in so many ways. She would always treasure that memory.
Thinking about that simple gesture, tears welled over from Serenity's eyes. She wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. She loved and was loved. She felt her love for Granny so deeply it felt like it would break her apart. The love went down to her core, and warmed her there. She felt like her heart was a furnace, and her love was the fire within. It felt warm, comforting, and roared like a bonfire in her chest. More tears fell, as she felt the true depth of the gentle love between her and her elderly neighbor.
Slowly, the effects of the chocolate faded, though Serenity's tears didn't dry up right away. What a blessing, to love and be loved. We all have moments where we fall in love with someone. Romantic love is only one type of love. You can fall in platonic love with someone. You can have a silly moment with a friend where you look at them and realize, "Wow, I love this person and I want them to be in my life for a long time." And what a love it can be. Looking back, Serenity knew the fever check had been the moment she knew she truly loved Granny and was truly loved in return.
Serenity dried her tears. Dragon, in a rare display of maturity, left her to feel her feelings herself. He could feel her emotional state, and he knew she was in no danger of pain. It was only when she had collected herself that he took action.
Getting up from his bed, Dragon trotted over to the counter, jumped up, and pushed the power button on her magic kettle. Then he sat and looked at her expectantly.
"Are you suggesting some tea? I think that's an excellent idea. Let's have some tea."
Serenity got up and set about making tea, feeling her love for her companions with new deliberateness. She could choose to hold onto this feeling. The chocolate only shows you things from your own heart, after all. So as she made her tea, she made a decision to consciously choose to hold onto the tenderness in her heart and feed it warmth until all she felt was love. As the day came to a close, Serenity realized she no longer felt her life was monotonous. Instead, she looked forward to seeing her neighbors and finding new ways to love them. It was a good thought to fall asleep to.
#a cottage witch and her dragon#serenity and dragon#my writing#original fiction#original writing#original character#things I made#I Cannot admit how long ago I wrote this or you all will be mad at me.
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