#the stone shines the same way her hair would when the sun hits it
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Found a really pretty opal stone yesterday! Had to take it home bc it reminded me of Raku :)
#let's normalize buying stuff bc it reminds us of our OCs#Raku loves opal gems now#those are the rules#the stone shines the same way her hair would when the sun hits it#random OC facts brought to you by me :3
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dear life
summary: your brother and best friend are presumed dead, and now you have no one. well, maybe you do.
warnings: angst mega angst sobbing bawling ripping hair out angst.
pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader
“we… we lost them,” you heard shoupe say from your dazed state. you looked up as he stared at you and your friends. “i’m sorry.”
pope took a breath from beside you. “you lost them? what do you mean you lost them? like-like they’re gone? what are you talking about?”
shoupe sighed. “they took an open boat into a tropical depression, pope.”
“so they’re dead?” kie asked, tears filling her eyes.
shoupe looked at you, finally. john b’s little sister. the one he knew would defend his innocence with her life. “we don’t know.”
your heart fell to your feet and you almost tipped over. everyone’s voices were now a ringing in your ears, one that you wanted to cancel out.
you put your hand to your heart as your breaths grew heavier, something jj had taught you a while back. you tried to balance yourself, but you had to step away, pacing as tears fell down your cheeks.
“you drove them straight through the storm, man!” you heard jj say, motioning with his hands somewhere.
jj watched you walk away for a moment and everything snapped inside of him, grabbing shoupe’s chest. “are you kidding me? come here man, i’m gonna kill you!”
“jj, get off!” kiara called from behind you.
jj was detached from the deputy by thomas. he swung his arms, trying to get through his hold. “no, no!” and he broke through, shoving shoupe over and over again. “i’m gonna kill you! i’m going to kill you! don’t, don’t! get off!”
“he didn’t kill peterkin, you know!” pope cried, widening his eyes and silently begging shoupe for something.
“they’re still looking for him, alright?” shoupe calmly answered.
pope swung his neck back, grabbing a hold of his head. this is when tears hit is cheeks and kiara grabbed his arm gently. “pope… pope just relax.”
your chest heaved up and down as you stepped out into the rain, away from the protection of the tent. your tears were salty, mixing in with the pouring rain as you fell to your knees.
from your left you watched kiara’s parents rush in, and you walked back inside the tent to watch her hug them.
the same thing happened with pope’s parents as pope cried, “i’m so sorry.” over and over again.
but jj stood there and took off his hat aggressively and stared at the ground. you could tell by the way he looked at everyone else that he wanted someone to hold onto. hell, maybe he’d even hug his dad right now.
you walked slowly over to him, feeling the same way he did.
you first lost your mother as soon as you were born. then you lost your father a few months ago. and now, you lost your brother.
he had been all you had left, and now he was gone.
jj looked up at you with an open mouth and eyes full of tears and finally rushed to you and pulled you in for a hug. you sobbed into each other’s shoulders, whispering to each other.
“he… he didn’t do anything,” you cried, gripping jj’s neck harder.
he cried into your shoulder for a little bit before saying, “it’s not fair. they killed him!”
“and… and sarah,” you pulled away from the hug, looking into jj’s eyes. “she didn’t do anything. nothing at all. they didn’t do anything! they’re fucking innocent!”
jj pulled you back into the hug, gripping your shirt for dear life. you stayed with your arms wrapped around his neck for five minutes until you hugged kie and pope.
you sat on the porch of the chateau a week later, caressing the stone in your hand.
it was john b’s; a little project your father had you do with each other when you were little. you’d written dove, your dad’s nickname for you, and jb had written bird.
the sun shining brightly through the windows of the porch would usually be your invitation to hop on the boat or sit on the swing outside and play the ukulele or read a book, but today it was the reminder of not to do those things.
since john b’s death, you hadn’t let yourself smile or have fun or enjoy yourself. you’ve spent the whole week mourning your brother, reminiscing with old things that reminded you of him. for example, this rock.
every day you’d waken up and walked into john b’s room and pulled a shirt out of his closet, sniffing it before putting it on. jj had basically moved in, not wanting to go home and deal with his dad right now.
he was great company, actually. he would sit with you in silence and maybe hug you randomly. he would trace his hand on your thigh and tell you john b was a great person and didn’t deserve what he got.
your other friends had mostly kept to themselves, putting their brains to work to keep them from thinking about john b. pope was making deliveries daily now, and kiara was serving as a full time waitress at the wreck.
but today they all came to the chateau and stood outside, looking at you through the broken and rusty windows. kiara sighed. “she still hasn’t made any progress?”
jj shrugged. “have you gotten over john b yet? i mean, give her a break, man! that was her brother!”
kiara flinched. “okay, jeez, i’m sorry… i just.. thought she would want to come out for this.”
jj considered it and sighed. “i’ll go talk to her.”
pope and kie nodded as they watched jj disappear into the porch.
“hey,” he said, sitting next to you. “what is that?”
you dropped it and flinched as it made a clatter on the floor. “it’s just a dumbass rock.”
jj sighed. “i’m sure it’s not just a rock. what’s it say?”
you looked at him angrily, taking deep breaths. “jj, it’s just a rock. forget it.”
jj nodded and looked away. “do… um, did you.. did you want to come out with us and make that headstone or whatever?”
“what headstone?”
“we were… we were thinking about making john b a headstone. carve it into the tree. what do you think?”
you rolled your eyes and stood up off the couch. “i think it’s the dumbest idea i’ve ever heard.”
“i—come on. y/n, you know he’d love the headstone. come on, don’t you want to be a part of it?”
your head whipped around. “i don’t know, jj. but i do know that i still do not believe john b is dead. you can believe whatever you want, but i still have hope.”
jj took off his hat and sighed. “john b would love it. come on, baby.”
you looked at him in disgust at the nickname. “what?”
“y/n, we have to stick together… we both have no one. okay? so don’t just… stop.” jj cried.
you shook your head. “this isn’t about that, is it, jj?”
he looked down. “y/n… you know i love you. you’ve known forever.”
you blinked, no emotion in your face. “of course i have, j. but now is not the time. i—my brother just died. you have family, jj. whether you like it or not. i have no one.”
his eyes widened. “we��we’re your family, y/n!”
“you know what i mean.”
“yeah, i do, and i disagree.” he took a step closer to you. “blood doesn’t choose family. we do. i do.”
“jj, just go.” you cried, watching tears slip down his face. “please.”
“no, baby, please. i’m not leaving. i’m not leaving you; i would never leave you.”
you shoved his chest. “damnit, jj, leave! stop! i would never do that to my brother!”
“your brother is gone!” he yelled finally.
you blinked. “jj. get the fuck out of my house right now.”
he took a step back. “no… baby, please, ‘m sorry, i didn’t mean it.”
“go!” you yelled, sobbing. “and stop calling me that.”
“why won’t you just hold me again? i can’t go back to my dad. please, please… please.”
“jj, right now.”
he listened, i guess.
the chateau was quiet and you were sitting on john b’s bed, where you had slept for the past week. his pillows still smelt like him.
you felt guilty for your outburst with jj, but living in denial was a scary thing. it made you do things you wished you wouldn’t, like going into jj’s room and laying in his bed instead.
the sheets were still messy and imprinted like he was just here, which he was. he still had it arranged in the way he slept. it was unusual, but it was cute. he surrounded himself with pillows and stacked the bottom two, draping a blanket over himself. if you weren’t lying, it was comfortable.
you lay there in silence, breathing and syncing your breaths with the waves of the nearby water. you were startled upwards when you heard your phone ringing from beside you.
it was jj. you thought about hanging up, but something told you it wasn’t good. you answered, holding it up to your ear and waiting for him to talk.
“y/n?” he said. he was gasping for breath and you heard sobs. “i… i need you to come and get me. i’m at my house.”
you scoffed. “jj, after what you said to me, i don’t think you deserve a favor right now.”
“please,” he said quickly. “it’s my dad.”
you sighed. “okay. i’m on my way.”
you got up from the bed and threw on a random shirt you found laying on the floor and grabbed the keys to the twinkie.
shoupe had let you keep it as he knew you were close with your brother. he knew it was something you would want, and shoupe liked you, so he let you have it.
you drove full speed to jj’s, cursing but running every red light.
once you got there, you saw jj clinging onto his bike he couldn’t even mount. his short clang body was covered in gashes and bruises and you winced and looked away.
you ran up to him, helping him stand. he could hardly walk or move, but you managed to get him into the car. “what… j, i’m so sorry. damnit, this is my fault.”
“not your fault, sweet girl. just drive, take me home.”
your heart dropped to your feet when he called the chateau his home, one that you forced him out of.
you drove in silence until eventually, he broke it and said, “is that my shirt?”
“i…”
“why are you wearing my shirt?” he asked. if you didn’t know what happened to him, you would have thought he was drunk.
“i don’t know. i was in your room, and then you called and…”
“what were you doing in my room?”
you sighed. “i was laying in your bed.”
“why?”
“damnit, jj, i don’t know, okay?” you yelled, causing him to flinch. he took his hands and pressed them to his head and tears filled your eyes. “i’m… i’m sorry, j.”
he just looked away and out of the window.
my poor baby, you thought. mentally, you pinched yourself for thinking that. he was not your baby.
you instructed jj to sit on the bathroom sink. he obliged, wincing as his back hit the cold of the mirror.
“shit, j, he get your back, too?” you asked, caressing the sounds on his stomach.
“a lil. it’s ‘kay, though, i’ll just sleep it off,” he said.
you shook your head. “don’t think so. sit back down, i’ll take care of you.”
he sighed and sat back on the counter as you pulled open the drawer below him. you pulled out a spray and sprayed it over the wounds, disinfecting them one by one.
“he beat me up, and you know why?” he said randomly. you stayed quiet as he continued, “cause i came home and told him about a girl. a girl i wanted so bad, and he beat me up for getting rejected.”
you took a deep breath and wiped the wound with a paper towel before continuing to clean it.
you closed the door of kiara’s car, watching as her and pope walked separately. she grabbed his hand at last and looked him deep into his eyes. “we have to stick together, okay?”
pope nodded and whispered somegjjng incoherent before continuing to walk.
jj looked at you and grabbed your hand. “us, too.”
you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go. in fact, you held his hand tighter.
there, at the front of the school was a mock shrine for john b. it looked like it meant well, but it really felt different.
“i feel like… people are staring at us,” you said, looking around.
“definitely,” jj responded.
“let’s just go, guys,” kiara said and stormed into the building.
*
the day went by pretty quickly, and before you knew it, it was mr. sunn’s class. of course, you weren’t paying attention, but you would rather be here than spending the day thinking about your brother.
you did that anyway.
at times where you were paying attention, though, you noticed mr. sunn had already started a lesson on the first day. and assigned homework.
twenty minutes into class, you and your friends’ phone rang. you paused, not looking at it until mr. sunn had finished his interrogation about “who’s phone was that?”
when you opened the text all together, your heart dropped.
(a/n: HAHAHAHHA THIS IS SO FUNNY SORRY)
you didn’t waste a second before running out of the classroom, jj following after. moments later, all of you were running outside. (jj tripped)
you made it outside and immediately texted back, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“hey,” pope shrieked. “what’s that for?”
“they’re impersonating my brother. what is wrong with them? that’s not okay.”
“it could be them,” jj said hopefully.
kie agreed. “i’m just gonna ask.”
kiaraa:
WTF is this you??
Unknown:
Is JJ there?
jj <3
i’m here bree.
the bubble thought, and then read,
Unknown:
did you pimp my short board?
jj laughed, and soon, everyone was giggling. you were dizzy and you had no clue what to do.
“it’s him.” you heard from around you.
you stood and wobbled a bit. the world was spinning.
your brother was alive.
everyone embraced each other into tight hugs, and you let yourself hug them, too. jj laughed and turned to you. “you were right.”
you sat at home, thinking of ways to get to charleston. jj had been chatting your ear off excitedly since the two of you got home, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this flipped the switch inside him.
“y/n,” he said loudly. you looked up at him.
“i’m listening.”
“no…. not that. now that we know your brother is alive, can we talk about it?”
you took a deep breath. “about what?”
“us.”
you sank back into the seat hesitantly. “talk away, j.”
he prepared himself and straightened up, grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and turning it so you were looking at him. “y/n, i’ve been in love with you ever since i laid eyes on you. when your brother introduced you to me when you were 6, i loved you. i was 7 and i still knew what love was, because you showed me. i… i don’t know what i would have done without you. i had no one, my whole life, but my family. but you. i love you.”
“jj…” you sighed, tears filling your eyes as you brushed the hair away from his face. “we can’t.”
“why not?”
“because, j, my brother.” you started. “how do you think he would feel if he found out his sister and his best friend thought he was dead so they started dating?”
“i think he’d understand once i talk to him,” he said, tracing circles with his thumbs on your cheeks. “i’d tell him i would never hurt you and that… i don’t know. you’re different. you’re special.”
you giggled. “if you say needs right now, i will tackle you.”
“…needs.” he chuckles as you pulled a pillow from the couch and jumped on top of him, hitting him over and over again with it. you held it to his mouth for three seconds before letting go of him.
he wrapped his arms around your waist, finally, and looked you in your eyes. he crashed into your lips with a kiss, immediately softening and turned it into a passionate one. you kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck and trying to keep the kiss as neat as possible.
“i’ve been wanting to do that for almost ten years,” he said before pulling you in for another one.
a/n: idk how i feel ab this tbh but anyways lmk if u want a part two of them seeing jb and sarah in charleston
#jj x reader#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank#jj mayback imagine#jj obx#jj maybank x reader#obx fic#obx imagine#outerbanks#obx#outerbanks fic#outer banks
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An afternoon with the Di Angelo’s
In the Italian country side there was a beautiful mansion made of stone. The doors towards the giant garden were open and the sun was shining on the green grass. A beautiful brunette was sitting cross legged on the ground. Her hair in a short neat ponytail, her skin was tanned, and she was wearing white trousers and a blue button up, her feet were bare, her toenails painted blood red the same color as her fingernails. Her warm brown eyes were sparkling with mirth as she sang and clapped as two young children were chasing each other through the grass. One was a girl, her dark brown hair was in two braids. She was dressed as a knight with a wooden sword, chasing the boy, her brother, who was dressed as a pirate. The boy had raven hair in a wild mess on his head, he was shrieking in joy as his sister chased him.
Another person walked into the garden, dressed in a gray shirt and black pants. Feet and hands bare. Long raven black hair flowing in a thick braid down the man’s back. He was white as a ghost, and his eyes were black as coal. The man let himself fall on the grass with his head pillowed on the woman’s lap as they watched their children play. The father was smiling. Suddenly the girl stopped, just as the woman leaned down for a kiss. “NICO LOOK! THE PRINCESS IS GETTING ATTACHED BY THE DRAGON!”
Nico came to a halt. “ARR, we must save the princess.” The boy raised his wooden sword. Nico and Bianca broke into a run and bombarded their parents, but instead of attacking their father as a dragon they jumped their mother. Nico was getting tickled by Maria and shrieking in laughter.
Bianca helped Hades up, who had been fake scared of the dragon that was the mother of his children. “You must now go princess.”
Hades smiled at his daughter. “Princess? Aren’t I a prince?”
Bianca pondered that for a moment. “No, you are way too pretty to be a prince. Boys are yucky.” Hades nodded as if everything made sense now.
“I think brave knight. We must help save the pirate from the dragon’s clutches.” Bianca nodded in agreement.
“Yes, we must.” Then with a battle cry Bianca jumped on Nico and Maria who were rolling down in the grass. Which helped Nico get the upper hand, as he sat on his mother’s stomach who was fending off attacks of Bianca’s ‘magic powers’ Nico took his sword and with a great arch behind his back he got ready to strike, accidentally hitting his father who was behind him. Who let out a gasp and dramatically folded his hand to his forehead as he crumbled to his knees in slow motion. When he had ‘died’ tragically after sticking his tongue out his mouth and making a bleh sound, Nico and the others stormed to the fallen Princess.
“What shall we do?” Nico exclaimed.
“I know what we must do, a true love’s kiss. We must all kiss papa on his cheek and he will magically wake up!” So Hades got three kisses on his face, two very sloppy ones by young children and one neater one on his forehead.
He gasped for breath and put his hand to his heart. As he pulled his family in his arms and peppered them with kisses. “I have been saved!”
The family spent the rest of the day running around in in the grass, laughing. Enjoying their last day under Italy’s warm sun. Tomorrow they would move to the states. Hoping for a better life. Not aware yet of the murderous plans of one certain king of clouds.
#Nico di Angelo#bianca di angelo#maria di angelo#Hades#di angelo siblings#di angelo#maria x hades#hades and maria#nico di angelo fanfic#short story
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its oc kiss week!!! @antivan-beau 😘
In the time between the midday meal and contemplation the Keep is nearly quiet. Far fewer footsteps, the stones remain untrod, the sun shines cleanly on the turret stairs. Clandestine one might even say. Though even with the full bearing of the sun on her face Attie still finds a sliver of a chill slipping down her spine.
Then again, those little stinging nerves in the tips of her fingers and the pit of her stomach may have nothing at all to do with the crisp autumn air nipping through the arrow notches.
She walks up. One slippered foot at a time taking breath after breath, each corner could be the one. The stairs are quiet, now, in the hush when everyone else is in the dining hall, lively and loud and so very far away. Quiet except for the subtle thuds reverberating in the stones where Attie drags her fingers along the wall. Plate metal, she’s told, rings against the floor. She’s never cared about the way those footsteps fade before.
Another step, an echo in the wall. Only a handful more steps before the next floor, the open entryway peeking, sneaking glances just as Attie keeps sneaking upward. Anticipation, yes that’s the word for the way her toes feel numb and her heart climbs into her throat. Noure would be proud.
Perhaps Bea will be too.
Attie takes one step up and a boot swaddled foot enters her upturned line of sight. Another breath, deeper. The scent of leather polish faintly follows the ankle, follows the calf.
Around the corner. Sunlight catches in her hair as she descends the turret stairs, shining off her armor. Beatrice rounds the corner and Attie stops breathing entirely.
But she doesn’t stop walking.
Clandestine, quiet, hidden in the stairs in the sunlight in autumn.
Fleeting moments all they have. Too many things at stake, too many others where they should be alone. Responsibilities, obligations. There is room only for the flight path of sunlight in Bea’s hair, in the open mouth of Attie’s reflection on her breastplate. There is room only for passing on the stairs.
Stepping past. Attie shifts to the side in the same movement as Bea makes room for her to continue. The last deep breath, to hold her metallic scent in her chest. It will last. It will last.
There is room only for the brush of Attie’s arm against Bea’s.
Oh it will last.
One more step is all they have left. The Keep will come back to life, the stairs will empty.
Beatrice catches Attie’s arm just as she’s nearly past her. Her last breath is knocked from her lungs, the numbness the tingling the soaring in her stomach. On her arm, Bea’s breath ghosts her own refusal, her rebuttal, time is never enough and nothing good can last.
Her eyes are closed where she holds Attie’s arm to her chest and it’s too much. Too much of everything they can never have. Attie turns her head, towards the sun towards the stone, away from where Bea presses a tender kiss to Attie’s forearm.
Sunlight. Sunlight, sunlight, the autumn sunlight hits Bea’s hair and the fire Attie sees there has caught in Attie’s chest. How can it last, how can it last long enough. Her lips against the fabric covering her skin. How long can it last?
An uneven hitch in Attie’s breathing. An almost sob hidden by the crook of her elbow. Bea releases her arm with nothing more than a lingering touch and the reverberations of her footsteps down the stairs fades from the stone walls where Attie cannot help but let her fingers linger.
#let's hope the formatting doesn't suck ass on mobile#oc kiss week#beatrice cousland#attie nehrios#uhm. yes i endured a critical wlw state.
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My Missing Constant| Prologue
[Kaeya X Reader]
Content Warning(s): Grammar mistakes, minor mentions of alcohol consumption, a n g s t
Word(s): 684
[Next part: I ]
(A/N) Slowly re-making this series and coming back to the fanfic scene. I’ve made almost all the chapters so I only have to upload them slowly.
---
You took a small bite out of the apple pancake you made at home, swinging your legs back and forth as the Sun’s first light hits you over the horizon. All of Mondstadt was silent apart from the small bits and pieces of noise here and there.
For example, the clanking of armor as the Favonius knights swapped shifts at the gates, or the baker just below heading in to prepare a fresh batch of food for his customers.
The dawn slowly changed to day, but you stayed up upon the wall’s edge, staring into the horizon in a trance.
“Meow.”
You looked around, trying to find where that yawn had come from until the patterned brown and white cat hopped onto the other edge of the wall. It stared at you and let out another meow as if it were calling you.
“Hello, kitty,” you giggled softly and smiled, tossing your legs over and walking towards it for a pet.
Almost as soon as you pet her, she began to lean into your touch, purring softly as she nuzzled you.
“Don’t tell anyone this, but I’m going to be leaving real soon,” you whispered, booping her nose with a bittersweet smile. “But~! I got you a gift before I left.”
You reached into your back pocket and left the little cat to wait, watching with curiosity.
“Ta-da!” You pulled out a small, hand-made mouse toy. Almost immediately, the cat tried to get it but it was too far. Laughing, you settled it down next to her and watched her play with it.
You quietly eyed the red-haired man as he slowly made his way to Angel's Share. Sometimes you wondered how he's been doing these days, but you try not to dwell on it too much. Your old memories shared with him and his brother always made you feel quite lonely in the end.
"Meeow?"
You looked down at the small kitty who has on its back with the mouse toy on its chest, staring up at you with some kind of sparkle in her eye.
"Hehe, you're so cute."
---
One last gift.
You can give them one last gift before you leave, right?
“What if they think I’m weird?” You muttered to yourself, fiddling with one of the orange tips of the Calla Lily in your hand. It, along with many others, formed a small flower crown with small Cecelias you’d found. You had another with the same concept, except the Cecelias were bigger and small Lamp Grass lit it up.
You stared at the dark windowsill, hesitating from beneath. It’s been years since you’ve had a proper conversation with him. Wouldn’t it be weird to suddenly leave him a gift like this so suddenly?
You heard a long sigh sound from above, along with the click of his heels against the dark wooden floors of his quarters. Each step came closer and closer to your hiding spot, and everything in you told you to run but your feet stayed glued to the stone pathway.
The thing is though, is that it wasn’t fear that kept you there. Yes, your adrenaline was high and your heart was beating like crazy, but you were curious.
What would happen if he caught you here?
*Pop*
Would the two of your finally have a conversation?
You could hear the wine bottle he had in his hands. Gulping it down and letting go with a long, stressed sigh.
“I shouldn’t be here,” you thought to yourself, noticing the small strands of navy blue hair shining against the moon above. You pushed your hopes away. Why make up those delusions when they’ve never been fulfilled before?
You could hear him hum a tune to accompany the wind’s soft howls. Your adrenaline calmed with each second you heard him until it disappeared out of nowhere, just like the few strands of hair that was floating above.
Now was your chance.
You quickly made your way of there, leaving only a single petal of the Calla Lily flower crown in your place underneath the Cavalry Captain’s windowsill.
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The Greater Good
He steps off the bus and into a fitful, spiteful rain that rolls down the back of his collar and soaks into his shirt with icy water. The bus stop is on the opposite side of town to where he needs to be, so he slings his duffle bag over his shoulder and starts walking, tugging his beanie low to keep the rain off as best he can. His bones know the route, and he's not expecting trouble for once, so he lets himself relax, drops the constant vigilance that was beaten into him by every bit of training he'd had since stepping on the bus out of the same town. It makes him feel naked, exposed, even though he knows there's no-one else about. The scratch and scrape of his boots on the path are the only sound apart from the rain dripping off the occasional tree.
The thick stone walls and cast iron gate come into sight and his steady pace falters, because he's not ready for what's waiting for him on the other side. Seeing it will make it real, and there's a finality about that he can't avoid. His feet feel stuck to the rain dappled pavement, legs heavy like there's lead flying at him, and he heaves in a breath before he starts walking again, ignoring the shake that's slowly spreading through him. There's water on his face and he blames the rain, though that doesn't explain the way his eyes are burning. He blinks, gets in another choked breath, swiping his hand under his nose before he surveys the neat rows of shining white stones. The sight is like a fist to the gut, drives the air out of him and he has to close his eyes, lean against the wall for minutes-seconds-hours before he can fill his lungs properly again. His duffle drops to the floor with a thump and he leaves it there, because there's enough weighing him down already.
The one he wants is at the end of the row, fresh flowers standing proud in the vase by the headstone. Oxeye daisies. Her favourite, he thinks, and bites his lip, hard on the little wounded sound that wants to escape. Oh, god, Mom. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
He blinks again, feeling the salty slip down his cheek and surrenders to it, dropping to his knees, one hand splayed on the headstone, the other dug into the thick grass like if he lets go he might just be swept away. Once the tears start, he can't get them to stop, feels like they're scouring him clean. There's a surrender in them and it feels like the first one in forever, after years spent building walls up, thick and strong and so solid nothing touched him. All the things he held at bay hit him and he yields to them, the scent of dry dusty air and cordite and blood cooking under the baking sun drifting through his mind like a vengeful spirit.
I think you'd be ashamed of me now, Mom, he thinks and glances down at his hands, expecting them to be coated in thick and clotted red. They say we're keeping people safe, but some of the things we do… He shakes his head, draws a shaking hand over his face. Some of the things we do are wrong.
It's the first time he's admitted it to himself, and a wave of disgusted relief passes through him. Maybe I'm not beyond redemption, he thinks, if I can still recognise that.
The letters are cut into the stone in crisp, even lines and he traces them, traces the name that had always just been Mom to him. Remembers hugs scented with baking and perfume, a careful hand brushing out his hair, and tending his hurts. Remembers too, the look on her face when he stepped on the bus, bound for a job he felt called to do, because she'd seen the damage it did once and knew exactly how it would chew him up and spit him out.
"Well I'm not out yet," he says, aloud, but quietly, because there's a hush about the place he's loath to disturb. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I tried. God knows I tried, but they… well, there was a mission and…" he trails off, digs awkwardly in his damp jean pocket and pulls out the silver locket he'd picked up at a little market, on a dusty street, in a town whose name he can't recall.
The ground is soft and he scrapes a shallow hole, dropping the necklace in. "I thought you'd like it - I was gonna-" his voice breaks and he stops, bowing his head and surrendering to the fresh wave of tears. His healing ribs ache, and he presses his hand against them, because that pain he knows how to deal with. "I'm sorry," he murmurs and closes his eyes, focusing on the push-pull of his breaths until his body settles. "I love you."
"El, it's time to go," a voice says from the gate and he looks over, swallowing hard because someone cared enough to follow him.
"Paul. You shouldn't have come," he grates out, and forces himself to his feet, wincing as the blood flows into his legs after so long kneeling. The other man crosses the space between them, deliberately bumping Eliot as he stops.
"Please," Paul says. "You think being a medic is just sticking on the bits you idiots get blown off?" He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a dollar, placing it carefully on the stone. "Mrs. Spencer, you raised a smart boy, but he can be dumb at times."
"Give me a minute?" Eliot asks, and Paul nods, already heading back to the gate.
The words he wants to say won't come-they're churning inside of him like the storm that's passing by overhead. "Thank you. For everything. For seeing a baby no-one wanted an-," his voice breaks and he lets the words trail off, because he can't get a thing out past the lump in his throat. "Just thank you," he gets out at last, lifting his fingers to his lips and touching them to the stone in a silent kiss.
It could be his imagination, but for a moment, the wind feels warm against his cheek as he turns away and walks to the gate, only turning as he reaches it.
We wanted you, and I'll never be ashamed of you, son, he hears, but maybe it's just the wind and wishful thinking.
The gate clunks closed behind him, and he can't help but take one last look back before he picks up his duffle and starts walking, knowing the greater good is always calling his name.
#leverage#eliot spencer#fanfic#whump#fanfiction#writing#emotional whump#eliot spencer needs a hug#grief#the Fractured Job#leverage redemption fic
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'Will and Power' - A Platonic Housamo!Bloom and Kengo Takabushi Oneshot
The air of the academy's campus is calm, a slight brush of wind caressing the metal and causing the leaves to sway. The sun shines high in the sky, warming the stone floor and bouncing to make it shine a much brighter grey. Though things may seem peaceful, there's quite the bit of activity happening…
A muscular man's hand narrowly misses slamming against the therian's soft body and fur. The human's heavy movement pushes his messy hair out of its short, upright position. "Not bad." He smirks, cracking his neck as he brings himself back up. The therian's smile pushes up the raw skin exposed as scars. "Of course not, Kengo. Are you unaware of the phrase 'a good defence makes a good offence'?"
Kengo's eyes shoot to the side as he scoffs. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's finish this round already." He cracks his knuckles before going back in. The two go head-to-head, Kengo's strikes heavy-hitting but seemingly struggling to land against the therian's nimble movements. He squints, a thought entering his mind. There might be somethin' to it…
Kengo's posture adjusts slightly, awaiting their move instead. When the therian goes for the attack - attempting to pounce on Kengo's uncharacteristic repose - Kengo manages to take a hold of their arm and slam them onto the ground. "And you're down!" Kengo grins, turning around and approaching a nearby bench. "Moritaka, we gotta rest up."
Moritaka groans as he slowly picks himself up, stumbling his way to the same bench. The two of them pick up their respective water bottles and begin to swallow down. Moritaka takes this moment to surround himself with the quiet soundscape, his sensitive ears picking up a distant bonging noise, twitching.
"What's up, Mori?" Kengo asks, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a handtowel. The therian's tail is more upright as he crosses his arms. "Do you not hear that noise?" His voice tinges. Kengo raises a brow, listening out. "You mean the basketball? Didn't know anyone practiced at this hour."
Kengo's eyes squint as he shades them from the sun, looking across from the general area and looking at the basketball court…
---
Practicing in the court is the girl and member of the 'Winx Club', codename: 'Bloom'. In contrast with her firery red hair, her focused eyes display a light blue hue. Her hands grip onto the ball and slam it into the ground, keeping a rhythm as she approaches the hoop. She takes her shot and it just barely clips against the edge, bouncing off and falling all the way back to the ground.
She lets out a sigh. "Okay, then I try again!" She runs back over to the ball. She keeps it firmly in her hands as she backs all the way to the other hoop. When she's backed the whole way, she hits it against the ground and starts dribbling again. She runs over and makes her shot again, smiling as it seems to be just the right tradjectory… before it hits against the back of the frame, bouncing off and falling all the way back down.
"No…" Her hand shoves itself into her messy fringe, her head shaking. She's about to walk back over to the ball before she hears a voice in the distance. "'Ey!" It sounds kind of harsh, like a voice one would imagine from a typical rugby player. Her head tilts behind her as she looks at the man.
The man's smile and closed eyes give her a good impression. She takes a small glance over the rest of his appearance, seeing as his t-shirt is hardly doing any work of hiding just how built this man is. He must do that intentionally. In comparison, her build is mostly unassuming, a chubby but still active girl.
The man looks at her for a moment, blinking as he tries to figure out something. Bloom shares in this confused staring, before shaking her head. "Oh, right. Don't worry, I speak Japanese." She laughs, scratching the back of her head.
"Got it." He then proceeds to laugh at himself, facepalming a bit. "Didn't wanna seem like an arse." Bloom holds up her hands, waving them as she laughs along. "I'm used to it. You get it a lot when you're adopted.
"Name's Kengo, by the way. Don't gotta call me anything else." Kengo's eyes mosey their way over Bloom's shoulder, eyeing the basketball on the floor. "You play basketball, huh?" Bloom glances at it, giving a slight shrug.
"Not really, I like it to keep active but I'm not on a team or anything. Oh, and my name is Bloom." She answers, her eyes darting to the side as she attempts to act nonchalant. "Active, huh? How about some sparrin'?" Kengo presses his palm against his opposite hand, craching his wrist. "I think that'd be more fun than throwing a ball on your own for ages."
Bloom places a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes look to the basketball, squinting… I need a break anyways. "Okay. Just don't send me to the hospital." Kengo bursts into laughter, holding his abdomen. "I won't!"
Bloom follows Kengo over to where Moritaka sits, now thoroughly rested. The two of them take turns fighting, tips and tricks being thrown… mostly Bloom's way as they continue on. The three of them feel almost like collapsing by the end, though have smiles on their faces.
Bloom sees herself out as dusk begins to settle in, though with an exchange of phone numbers, the three have agreed to meet up every now and again. Bloom's chest feels lighter. And for Kengo? Just another friend and partner.
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Of Blood and Sparks - Interlude VI - Epilogue
Karina Alexandre of Fontaine lost her position, her family, and her Archon's favor. A dead Electro Vision is her mark of guilt. A reminder to never fail again.
Faith shattered, and suspicious of the Fatui, she eventually makes her way to Liyue, where she encounters a certain funeral parlor consultant. Little does she know it's only the beginning.
Original character centric; eventual Zhongli/OC. Posted originally at @chevalier-of-fontaine.
ArchiveOfOurOwn || FF.net || Rhiannon Details
Rhiannon pressed her cheek against the soft fur collar. She hadn’t expected to feel the biting chill of Snezhnaya so soon. She already missed Fontaine’s warm sunrises and bustling city streets (even if she only saw them from a distance).
Dottore only told her that Signora was called back to the Tsaritsa and given that she was the Eighth’s Understudy, it was only proper that she return as well. He would never hear the end of it otherwise. The season for the theatre already came to an end anyway. She would only end up running between lessons and sneaking out; what better way to keep an eye on her than to send her back to their base of operations?
The Zapolyarny Palace was high atop the hill that the main city sat upon, dead-center in a plaza with a circle of administrative buildings cradling it.
It was, in fact, not a Palace at all, but a church.
Adorned in all the imagery used to celebrate a beloved god and their Acts.
But She was anything but Beloved, at least by the people. The feeling was mutual.
To be called her was both the highest honor and the lowest punishment.
Her cloak swept along the marble floor, hissing against the stone as she entered into the main chapel. Pillars seemed to be carved from ice as the stained glass mosaics high above filtered in what little sunlight was available at such an hour. Murals and mosaics depicted events of destruction, of the Cataclysm, the fall of a land she never heard the name of growing up. The shelter the Tsaritsa offered was on the iconostasis, the main wall of focus for all of the iconography in the church. It was the same in every city, in every town, in every village.
Many of them were defaced throughout the year and replaced without complaint.
The silence of the church was deafening. Others should have been here. The Harbingers prided themselves on besting one another in combat, in social situations, in any and all actions in the Tsaritsa’s name. Rhiannon did her best to hide her confusion. She didn’t have a mask to hide behind, after all.
At the altar stood a figure she only ever saw twice in her life but one she never would, never could, forget.
Rhiannon lowered herself to the floor, cloak pooling around her. “Moya Tsaritsa.”
The Understudy didn’t dare look up, instead focusing on the smooth stone in front of her, relying on reflections for her cue. She heard the click of heels, the swish of fabric; the Archon had turned around.
“You seem to have beaten even your Mistress to heed my call, Ancella. Your dedication is appreciated. Rise.”
The young woman straightened her spine bit by bit, her eyes falling on the Archon but never meeting the Tsaritsa’s gaze. White hair faded into an icy blue, the way snow glowed when the sun hit the freshly-fallen flakes just so.
Despite her title, the Archon was always dressed for battle whenever Rhiannon saw her. She could make out the glint of armor beneath a flowing overcoat, a paldron shining over her right shoulder. The fabric, like her hair, started out a beautiful pristine alabaster, the interior of the tails fading into the darkness of a snowy night, shimmering. Across her chest, a red sash from her left shoulder to right hip, holding a shining star of Cryo over her heart.
Upon her head, a kokoshnik tiara of aquamarine and silver. It looked heavy. Certainly impossible to miss but nowhere near as fine or impractical as the jeweled kokoshnik the Archon might wear during diplomatic meetings. That one was as white as the rest of her clothes, pearls dripping down the sides and aquamarines dotting the crest, her hair exposed rather than veiled. Even She followed the convention for unmarried women.
Rhiannon’s eyes fell upon the scabbard at the Archon’s hip. The Blade of Orlov, never far from reach.
“I very much enjoyed your last performance, Ancella. Perhaps you would be kind enough to sing again tonight and ease some frayed nerves after dinner.”
An order, not a request.
“As you wish, moya Tsaritsa. It would be my honor.”
She could not refuse, tired though she was. The good graces of others depended on her willingness to serve. Even if they didn’t, Rhiannon would gladly make herself useful to the Archon kind enough, caring enough, to have given her new purpose.
Before long, they were joined by the other Harbingers and one of their respective Hands. Some, like Arlecchino, brought their Warden, their enforcer; others had their Understudy, those like Rhiannon who learned the Role so a spot would never be empty. Each and every of them similarly dressed in their winter best. Minus Signora but the Harbinger ran as cold as the Tsaritsa; what use was a cloak when you could summon something far colder than harsh weather?
Although…
Rhiannon frowned. One was missing. But they came together. Where…
Before she could consider further, Rhiannon settled to Signora’s left and a step back, never deigning to be on the same level but nearby for assistance. She watched her mistress’ gaze harden as she surveyed the room. The Harbingers were always on guard with one another, especially in gatherings such as this. The singer only hoped for civility.
The Eighth’s head turned over her shoulder, blue eye falling onto her Understudy.
“Are you being treated well, Ancella?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Nothing untoward? Nothing bizarre?”
“You would be the first to know, my lady.”
So many thought of her as cruel but they never bothered to understand the Harbinger. Granted, it was impossible to understand the divine; how could anyone understand the work of those who stood against it?
She listened as the Tsaritsa began, her voice soft but not without authority. The acoustics of the building lent themselves to amplifying her words without any additional device.
One by one, the Harbingers provided updates. Tartaglia and Signora were first, describing the events in Liyue. Not as smooth nor quiet as originally anticipated but successful nonetheless. Rhiannon tried not to notice the way Tartaglia leaned a little to one side or exert too much into his usual verbal jabs. He’d been injured, as was his way.
The talk of Inazuma crumbled as soon as it began. The Balladeer dug his heels in and argued that he, out of all of them, knew the Archon and her Shogun puppet best, and therefore should be the one to continue to oversee Inazuma’s plans.
“But to have you interact with the Electro Archon directly would be to reveal the rest of our hand.”
A familiar voice, and yet not. Deeper than she was used to, and a cutting edge that didn’t need anger to strike fear into the listener.
But he looked different. Wore a different mask, a different outfit, and his hair…
“Dottore, you of all people–”
“Do you wish to ruin the only chance we may have to understand and usurp the Divine, puppet? The single chance to discover your true potential?”
Scaramouche scowled but remained silent.
“As I suspected. The plan remains unchanged. You will oversee the Delusion manufacturing and Signora will make contact for a diplomatic approach at a later date. What say you, Jester?”
Pierro’s starlight eyes fell upon the Sixth. “The course is already set and the play is in motion. We continue as intended.”
“I do understand your perspective, my marvelous Balladeer,” the Tsaritsa said, her words smooth, comforting. “But this is for the best. Your direct connection to another marked by Celestia is more of a hindrance than a blessing right now. Your time will come.”
The discussions continued up through the ranks and then settled at Dottore’s feet. The Second Harbinger, the true Second Harbinger, reported on Fontaine’s progress, on Sumeru’s politics and something about the Scarlet King. As long as Inazuma went according to plan, their intentions for Sumeru would continue, and it would domino into Fontaine.
“There has been speculation of a Nail sighting but it is, as of now, unfounded,” Dottore said, his words echoing with finality.
Pierro finished out the gathering, summarizing everyone’s contributions and providing insight on next steps. He was thorough, a smile never once cracking the stoic expression that always seemed to be present.
“We have what we need,” the Tsaritsa held up Morax’s Gnosis, evidence and inspiration all at once. “It is in our best interest to soothe the wounds Celestia has and will inflict; to reassure others that we seek to assist, not hinder. Without a unified front, we will not survive the Last Stand.”
She gestured a dismissal, the Gnosis disappearing with a flick of her fingers, and the audience bowed in reverence and servitude. Rhiannon recalled the Harbinger’s promise that went unspoken, the Vow taken by each of them:
Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and with this nation endure for all time. In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, we will seize authority from the gods for absolute peace. Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is her Majesty’s benevolence.
#verse: of blood and sparks#genshin impact oc#genshin impact original character#fanfiction#fanfic#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin oc#OC: Rhiannon Alexandre
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love having an acquaintance share a post by an “““ex-gay”““ lady about how she has found god’s light and he’s told her personally that marriage is between a man and a woman so she will do that instead because “feelings don’t determine truth”, despite every sentence of her impassioned plea being uh. not provable
idk it’s fascinating for me as a queer ex-christian! there were many reasons for me dropping out of that whole song and dance, but one of the primary reasons for me is the fact that if every christian has their own ideas about what “god told them” is correct, and if these ideas can conflict with each other, there is no actual way for us to know what is correct. if there is a god, there’s too much wet meat and matter in the way for you to ever know, and then what are the ten commandments but a story that has been so washed of context that only the ghosts of their stone tablet bones are left!
and then why should i believe there is a god and that god made me look at women to test me, that there is a god and that god would send me to hell for loving a woman like i love my boyfriend when men like trump are held up and go unpunished, apparently in this life and the next? when the westboro baptist church picket funerals and call it righteous? when part of my family stopped speaking to my aunt after she had a child out of wedlock, when one of them smuggled a silver spoon to that child for the christening, secretly, because if the family patriarch found out, she would be excommunicated, too?
why should i believe that god wants you to pack yourself into a cookie-cutter tradwife fulltime home-with-the-kids-and-the-void mlm lifestyle, to find a man you can Respect and Obey like he’s god (is this not idolatry?), to lock your feelings up behind your teeth until they curdle and rot, to rot your self until all that is left is pure and bright and shining, like orthorexia of the soul, like beating the bounds until there’s nothing but scorched earth left? why should i believe that god would make your children (whom you would never abort) but then it is not right to legislate laws that would see them cared for? why should i believe that god wants you to throw your children out for the sin of loving people when teenagers who rape and murder do not get dealt the same hand?
fuck that, right? if there is a god and god loves me, then god made me this way. if there is a god and god made me this way, and then would send me to hell for being the way god made me, then that is not love. (now to the right is your tangent about eldritch love and the impossibility of understanding) if god would send me to hell for the way i wanted, once, to push a girl’s hair behind her ear as the sun hit her sideways, to watch a girl play guitar and sing the beatles in a way that made my heart shoot leaves and soft, green tendrils, to hold a girl close and wipe her tears away when she was crying - well.
that’s no god of mine.
#christianity cw#i can generate my guilt and anxiety on my own thanks!!#caveat: hashtag notallchristians#ANYWAY i just find it so sad! i'm sad for them because it sounds fucking miserable!#every insta post is just a thick veneer of THIS IS THE BEST WAY :) but you can just hear the despair-that-can't-be-realized#sorry! not all christians are like this but if you have to constantly and loudly reseal the cracks of the enclosure you built#maybe it's not for you?#i don't mean this as an ALL CHRISTIANS ARE LIKE THIS thing i think plenty of christians are you know#uhh#thriving#well-adjusted#plenty in my family lol#and then of course on the other hand this brand of christian would think i'm going to hell and working with satan or whatever the hell#and i think i'll probably just become dirt! insects are gonna jazz on my bones!#if there's a hell and i go there just for this#then well! that's no god of mine!#but even with the guarantee of eternal torment i'd hope i would still act with as much care and compassion as i could in this life#you do the job that's in front of you#anyway sorry about all of this dfgsfgs i guess there was more to process than i thought#it's the severely depressed christian grandma (not the extracommunicating one! technically!) + severely repressed queer teen combo!
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Andrew is a good swimmer. He has been swimming for as long as he can remember and his mother gave him permission to go to the beach on his own, even if he isn't supposed to swim without an adult present. And he doesn't. He knows the stories of hidden tides, pulling children and adults alike oit into the sea, never to be seen again. He knows the dangers of stepping on the wrong fish or getting stung by jellyfish while swimming.
He knows all of that and he pays attention to it, makes sure to keep his distance when walking along the shoreline on his own. He knows his mother trusts him to come home safe.
He also knows he isn't supposed to be out as late as he is right now. It's already starting to get dark, the sun painting the water golden as it sinks. But his mother has a late shift for work and the house is too silent without her. So Andrew decided to go on a walk.
He's walking over the cliffs next to the beach, paying attention to every step. Some of the older teens and young adults sometimes jump from these cliffs. Andrew's mother made him promise to never do the same.
The waves crash against the stone below in a regular rhythm, not too loud or hard but still present. Andrew can hear seagulls and birds, insects from the grass on the other side of the patg he's walking on. The sheep are all asleep further away from the sea. He can smell salt and seaweed, can taste it on his tongue. It's nice.
Andrew isn't sure what happens next. One moment he's climbing over a large rock, the next he's falling. He must have tripped. He's lucky he was on an overhang, so he doesn't risk hitting his head on the rock.
The water is approaching fast and Andrew reminds himself how his mother taught him to jump, never in the ocean but in an open pool not too far away. He forces his body straight, his arms to his side and toes pointed.
It works, but the sudden shock of the water around him still almost knocks the air out of Andrew's lungs. It's not warm, but not cold either. He's lucky it's summer.
As soon as he can, Andrew tries to struggle upwards, towards the surface. His jacked pulls him down, his shoes make it almost impossible to swim. It feels like he's being pulled down. He can feel his eyes widen, his heartbeat quickening. He forces himself to keep calm. Panicking would only cost him more air.
He tries to kick off his shoes and get rid of his jacket when someone appears in front of him. Andrew isn't sure if he's seeing them right or the shock is starting to set in, because in front of him is someone who is only half human. Half of their body is covered in scales, light on the stomach and darker on the back. There are gills, running all the way up their sides and fins on their arms.
Andrew has heard of mermaids before, of course he has. None of tge descriptions seem to come even close to the one floating in front of him now, staring with too wide, faintly glowing eyes and what looks like shining stripes running down their body.
They grin, showing off too sharp teeth and the only thing stopping their hair from floating around and getting into their face is the seagrass they braided into it. Andrew doesn't think he has ever seen anything more beautiful. He doesn't even realize that he stopped trying to swim, that he has been sinking, until the mermaid suddenly swims forward, wrapping their arms around him and pulling him upwards.
Andrew lets himself get pulled along, too stunned to do anything else as the mermaid pulls him closer to the surface. He can feel his lungs burn, but he ignores it. One beat of the mermaid's tail and they break the surface. The mermaid hauls Andrew onto a rock close to the beach and he gasps for air, clinging to the rock with the sudden shock of being able to breathe again.
The wind runs over his wet skin, making him shiver. The mermaid stays close, their head and shoulders outside if the water, but everything else staying under. Andrew stares at them while he tries to catch his breath and they watch him back.
"What's your name?"
He wants to curse himself right after. What if they don't understand English? It's a stupid question. Then they grin again, showing off more teeth than a human has and swim closer, holding up something that they wear around their wrist.
Once they're close enough that Andrew can see, he recognizes the thing as a bracelet, laying tight on their skin. It looks like something someone lost in the sea, made out of fake leather and decorative stones. Waterproof. The stones each have a letter on them.
"Paul? Is that your name?"
The mermaid, Paul, makes a motion with their hands. When they see that Andrew doesn't understand, they hesitate, thinking, before they nod. Andrew tilts his head to the side and tries to copy the movement.
"Does this mean yes?"
Paul makes the move again, then nods. Andrew smiles. Paul smiles too, a short pulse seeming to ripple over their glittering scales caused by a quick movement.
"My name is Andrew."
Andrew looks towards the sky and sees that the sun is further down now. He frowns.
"Sorry, but I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow. Will you be here, too?"
Paul makes the sign for yes and Andrew smiles.
He manages to get home before his mother and pretends his hair is wet because he showered. He doesn't tell her about Paul.
---
Andrew comes back every day and Paul meets him each time. They talk, Paul teaching him the mix of sign language, clicks and movement mer, because that's the right term, use to communicate.
Andrew doesn't have a tail or scales and he doesn't manage to copy the clicks, no matter how hard he tries. But that's okay, because Paul understands him anyway.
Each day they meet and each day they talk and each day they learn. Andrew learns that Paul only knows English because their parents taught them and that only few mer can understand it. He learns that Paul can read a little bit and that mer have a basic written language as well, but that it's very different from English.
Paul brings him a stone, with symbols scratched into the surface that they explain are words and information. In turn, Andrew brings them whatever he can think of. Since mer don't have letters like English has, they don't have fingerspelling, a concept Andrew found when he tried to research sign language. So Andrew and Paul learn it together.
Amdrew doesn't know what would happen if anyone found out about Paul and he wants to avoid it ever happening. From what he knows, people don't know that mer exist. He doesn't want to lose Paul, no matter what.
But for now, he doesn't worry about it. For now, he learns and laughs. Soon, school will start up again. But he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.
#first meeting#my ocs#OC Andrew#OC Peter#tw being pulled under the water#as in nobody drowns#but it could happen
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Nothing Left | R.B
Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Gryffindor!Reader
Summary: Everything crashes within seconds and Sirius doesn’t know where to go.
Everything went downhill so fucking fast. How was that even possible? Everything was perfectly fine a year ago, but it seems that within that year, everything had collapsed onto the helpless boy. It was like being beneath a crumbling concrete tower that fell with no warning. Like being slapped in the face unexpectedly. Like getting doused in freezing water on a Sunday morning.
In retrospect, it sucked.
Sirius Black would know first hand. His entire life had been a screw-up from the beginning. It started with his parents, who - at the start - loved him. But when he turned out to be the child they never wanted all that love had vanished. They tortured him, broke him piece by piece, they built up trauma that took years for him to express to his friends. It wasn’t until third year when they heard him crying alone in his four-poster bed and asked what was wrong. He could remember the comforting embrace James Potter had given him.
Nevertheless, it never ended there. The summer going into his sixth year, Sirius decided it was enough after too many Cruciatus Curses and body binding curses; enough was enough. His hands were trembling after enduring just ten minutes of the torture curse, and it was a struggle, but he packed everything he could. His heart broke at inevitably leaving his little brother behind. He could only hope that Regulus would understand.
It took a Knight Bus trip to the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow. The sky could’ve resembled how Sirius felt. Back at Grimmauld Place Twelve, the sky was always cloudy and rainy. Godric’s Hollow allowed the sun to shine past the fluffy clouds, but tonight was different. The sky was dark and thick, black clouds covered the stars. Rain poured from them, and it pittered on the stone roads. Sirius was instantly drenched when he stepped off the Knight Bus.
Hesitantly he made his way to the door, where he knocked softly. The house was two stories and was a relatively big family home - not bigger than Grimmauld Place - but an average family home. The house was a mixture of grey, dark purples, and brown. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ patched jumpers. Sirius could hear movement from behind the plum door, and it opened to reveal a familiar face. James Potter with his messy hair, hazel eyes, and long limbs. James was muscular, but he was also tall, not Remus tall but taller than Sirius.
James didn’t speak and ushered him inside. The following morning at breakfast, Euphemia - Mrs. Potter - had given Sirius the excellent news of his new forever home. The Potters would never forget the way Sirius lit up and how a smile had taken over his face. Sirius didn’t remember being this happy except for when Regulus was born.
But his forever home was not forever.
In seventh year, James’ parents had died, and nobody had comforted Sirius except one person who attempted. James had Lily, and that was enough for him. Perhaps it was selfish to think that James should be comforting him. It was definitely selfish. Sirius was doing really good at hiding how he felt until he crumbled behind a tapestry near the dungeons.
Sirius didn’t know if it was good or bad luck that Regulus - his prefect Slytherin brother - had found him behind that tapestry. Regulus had pulled back the fabric slowly with his wand lit. His face had softened at his older brother sobbing with his knees to his chest. Regulus allowed his wand light to extinguish before sitting in front of him in the same position, allowing their socks to touch at the tips.
They sat there for a couple of minutes before Regulus moved closer, albeit hesitantly to sit beside Sirius. Regulus had his back against the concrete, and Sirius curled up onto him while the younger Black brother rubbed his older brother's back. Sirius cried harder and harder. It took an hour before he subdued to sniffles and whimpers, but Regulus took it as his time to speak.
“I know they meant a lot to you,” Regulus stated, still rubbing his older brothers back, “And I don’t blame you for grieving them.”
Sirius sniffled, “I ought to be grateful for them, really.” Regulus released a sound that sounded like a chuckle, but it was so foreign to Sirius he couldn’t tell, “They kept you safe. Kept you away from mother and father. They gave you a home where you could finally be you.”
“And no matter how mad I want to be at them for taking you away from me,” Regulus admitted, “I just can’t be because they gave you everything you wanted, and I’ve never seen you happier in my life.”
Regulus didn’t stop talking, “You know… I- I found my own James Potter.”
Sirius looked up at Regulus with flushed cheeks, but his facial expression was baffled, and Regulus presented him with a small smile, “Okay, maybe she isn’t my ‘James Potter’ per se because I don’t see her as a sister but rather she’s my girlfriend.”
“What’s- What’s her name?” Sirius croaked; his throat was so raw from crying.
“Y/n L/n.”
“A- A Gryffindor?”
Regulus made that sound again, “Yeah. A stupidly brave one too. Even worse.”
Sirius smiled, “I know her.”
“Don’t tell me she was one of your conquests.” Regulus grimaced, and Sirius chuckled, snuggling back into Regulus’ chest, “No, she wasn’t. It turns out she has the hots for the other Black brother.”
Regulus smiled, and they allowed the silence of the castle to consume them. It was dark in the corridor on the other side of the tapestry, and Regulus could see the faint moonlight peaking out. He could also imagine the stars glittering beautifully in the midnight sky. He could see the star Sirius shining brighter than ever, and he just wanted his brother to feel the same.
“I plan to marry her.” Regulus said before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth.
“What happens then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mother and father will never approve.”
Regulus scoffed, “I’m done with their bullshit and have been for quite a while.”
Sirius met his brother's eyes again, “I left right after you. It turns out there is no more heir to the Black family name.”
The older Black brother smiled brightly and tightened his grip on his younger brother. Regulus couldn’t remember feeling this warm since they were little boys running around the backyard. Sirius was practically on top of him, and that was okay. For now, everything seemed okay again. Maybe Euphemia and Fleamont were gone, but even in their deaths, they managed to benefit Sirius’ life.
Now it all seemed fruitless.
Only a couple of months later, Sirius and Regulus had gotten into a huge kerfuffle. It ended with screaming, raw throats, tears, and flushed cheeks. Sirius could remember how Regulus playfully mocked his and Remus’ relationship. He didn’t know exactly what happened, just that he was pouncing for his little brother, and Remus was holding him back. Sirius had yelled some very awful things that he couldn’t take back.
She hadn’t done anything. She didn’t even know that an argument had happened. Y/n had been reading in the common room when the book was flung out of her hand, and she was pushed against the stone wall of the Gryffindor Tower. Y/n met eyes with stormy grey ones, not unlike her lovers, but these weren’t her lovers. These were his elder brother's eyes, and he had lifted her off the floor against the wall until James had pulled Sirius off her.
Y/n hit the floor with a thud and repeatedly coughed, hands on her throat. James had stormed into the boy's dormitory with Sirius with him. She didn’t even understand what was happening not until she met up with Regulus in the prefect dorm, and he saw the marks on her neck. Sirius had taken it too far, and Regulus was furious. They were no longer on speaking terms.
Now Sirius had someone entirely different to grieve.
Sirius had felt like his heart hit the floor when he was forced to move out of James’ house with Lily due to Harry being born. Remus had moved away to take care of his sick mother and asked for privacy. The funds that had previously been in Sirius’ account had been squandered, and now he was paying the price.
He had absolutely nowhere to go. Truthfully, there was one place he could go, but he didn’t think he’d ever be accepted there. He had said unforgivable things, but James had given him enough confidence that it would be okay. Reluctantly, Sirius Black took the Knight Bus to the suburbs in London. The community felt so modern and new. It was different then Godric’s Hollow which had been around for so many years that it began to weather and erode.
The deja vu was hitting him like a brick. Their house was a mixture of grey, black, white, and maybe blue - Sirius couldn’t tell in the darkness if it was white or pale blue. Perhaps he’d find out tomorrow if he was even welcomed inside. Sighing and shivering, Sirius knocked on the door. He could hear little squeals of delight that sounded much like a child. He also heard talking, but he froze when the door opened.
Regulus Black, at the age of twenty-two, looked good. His hair was to his jaw, and it was wavy at the ends, whereas Sirius’ was much more straight. His eyes had turned silver over the years. His cheeks looked much fuller, and he looked a lot better. Regulus was no longer looked underweight, but he was still slim and skinny. Black family genes, Sirius supposed. Sirius couldn’t meet his brother's eyes.
“What do you want, Sirius.”
His name falling from Regulus’ mouth instead of a nickname hurt more than he expected, “I had nowhere else to go…”
Regulus scoffed, “James finally kick you out, eh?”
“Yeah, he did.” Sirius sounded so distant, “Perhaps it was about time, and here I am, at your doorstep.”
“Come on, Sirius.” Regulus motioned for him to come in, and Sirius did.
The house was much cozier inside. The floors were dark wood, almost black. The living room - on Sirius’ left - was a darker turquoise color with grey furniture. The dining room - on Sirius’ right - was a light grey. The furniture was a marble table, white wood chairs with cushions, and a beautiful light fixture. Regulus led him to the kitchen, which was straight ahead in the hallway.
It was a beautiful mint green color with black and white furniture. The appliances were primarily black and the furniture primarily white, but regardless, it was beautiful. They had another table in the kitchen that was a grey wood instead of the shiny marble in the dining room but nevertheless screamed elegance. Sirius sat at one of the barstools at the L of the counter. Regulus slid him a cup of tea.
“Your house is beautiful.” Sirius complimented, and Regulus placed the cup back into the saucer, “Thank you. My wife picked everything out for the most part. I either built it or painted it.” Regulus smiled.
“Your wife?”
Regulus hummed, “Y/n Black. Ring any bells?”
Sirius swallowed, “Yeah.”
They both took a sip of tea, “I have two kids too. Both boys.”
“Two?!“ Sirius nearly spat out the liquid he had just taken a sip of.
“Twins. Fraternal, thankfully.”
He placed the cup down, “What’re their names?“
“Perseus Regulus Black and Leo Alphard Black.”
“Perseus and Leo, huh?“
Regulus blushed, “It wasn’t my idea. It was Y/n’s.”
“I like them,” Regulus looked up at him, “The names. I’m sure they fit them too.”
“Thanks.”
It wasn’t long until footsteps began to echo coming down the steps. Y/n had grown up too. Her face was sharper and her curves more defined. If Sirius was honest, she didn’t look like she had kids at all. To be fair, he wasn’t really staring at Y/n but more so his brother. Regulus had a starstruck expression as his wife walked towards him. He had a dopey smile on his face and stars in his eyes. Regulus really loved her, and Sirius could tell, hell, anyone could.
Y/n stopped in her tracks at seeing Sirius, “What’s he doing here?”
Regulus placed an arm around her waist, “He came looking for a place to stay. While I was waiting for you, I decided to catch up with him for a little.”
Sirius looked guilty, “Ultimately, I’m leaving this decision up to you.”
Y/n sighed and looked at both brothers. She thought of what he did back at Hogwarts. She thought of how Regulus had cried and ached for his brother, wishing for their relationship to be back the way it was. She thought of her two children who always asked about their Uncle Sirius, who was never around.
“Sirius,” Y/n began, and Sirius held his breath, “Where will you go if I were to say no?”
Sirius looked at his lap, “The streets.”
He couldn’t hear the footsteps that approached him until soft hands lifted his head where he met soft e/c eyes, “I’m willing to look past everything that happened at Hogwarts for the sake of my children. They deserve their uncle. But I need you to show me that I can trust you and that you won’t cause trouble.”
“I’ll do anything.” Sirius complied, and Regulus smirked, “Don’t say that. She’ll have you remodel something.”
“You’re an asshole.” Y/n whirled, and Regulus continued to smirk, “I told you to use magic, and you said we should do it the Muggle way.”
He shrugged, “We got good memories out of doing it the Muggle way.”
“If getting paint all over me counts as good memories, then sure.”
“It does.” Regulus smiled, “Your face was priceless.”
“Dickhead.” She muttered.
Sirius grinned, “Well, Sirius. If Y/n lets you stay, then you’re welcome here. What I did back at Hogwarts was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mocked you and Remus.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is.” Regulus countered solemnly, “Had I not done that; then we could’ve had a better relationship. For that, I’m sorry.”
Sirius stood up and hugged Regulus tight, “New beginnings?”
“New beginnings.” Regulus smiled.
Regulus led Sirius up the wooden stairs up to the second story. It seemed to have had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, one in the master bedroom, one in the hallway, not including the one downstairs. On the end of the left side was a door leading to the master bedroom. On the right end was a cabinet and two doors across from one another. Then in the middle of the back was a door leading to another bedroom which Regulus had opened.
The bedroom was spotless and beautiful. It was painted a grey with purple undertone with a queen-sized bed. Most of the furniture was white, and the bedding was black. Sirius had brought his trunk to its normal size and placed it at the end of the bed. Regulus smiled as Sirius looked around.
“This is yours for as long as you want it.” Regulus stated softly snd Sirius had tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”
Sirius hugged his brother again, “I really mean it, thank you.”
“I love you, Sirius.” Regulus confessed, “You’ll always be my brother. The one who held me during thunderstorms. The one who sewed up my teddy bear when it had gotten ripped. The one who took the blame so I wouldn’t get punished.”
Sirius was gripping the back of his shirt tightly, “That stuff doesn’t just go away.”
They parted, and Regulus smiled, “Get some sleep. I’m sure you’d like to see the boys tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’d like to meet my nephews.” Sirius admitted smiling brightly.
“Get some sleep, Siri.”
“You too, Reggie.”
#regulus black#regulus x reader#regulus x you#regulus x y/n#regulus black x reader#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x you#sirius black#sirius black imagine#sirius black x reader#Sirius Black x you#Sirius Black x y/n#the noble house of black#remus lupin#remus fluff#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#james potter#james potter x reader#Harry Potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#marauders#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader
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“Does this help?” + kara being injured
All things considered, Lena’s Saturday has been startlingly unremarkable so far. The sun is shining, she’d had her usual cup of yogurt with sliced bananas for breakfast, she hasn’t gotten a single off-hours weekend call from work, and she’d even had time to read the Cooking section in the National City Tribune. The biggest thing on her calendar for the day is her weekly movie night with Kara, which she’d been quietly looking forward to since Kara had left her apartment after their movie night the week before.
There was a time in Lena’s life where the easy, almost leisurely flow of her day would have been alarmingly, disarmingly suspect. But with no attempts on her life and L-Corp running smoothly for the last year or so, Lena’s life has settled into something more… quiet.
And on any other day, it might have continued that way.
Because noxious gas-breathing, nine-legged alien dragons aren’t typically her problem.
She gets the notification on her phone, of course:
Emergency Alert: Rogue Alien Attacking National City Waterfront— alien is violent and unrestrained, exhales unidentified purple gas. Residents urged to remain indoors and to close all windows.
Lena sighs, rolling her neck to the side and grabbing her phone as she lifts herself off her couch to close her balcony door. Despite having a near-panoramic view of the water, Lena’s apartment is on the other side of town from the docks, but she winds her way around her apartment anyway and closes all of her windows just in case. She’s just shutting the last one when she fires off a text to Kara, telling her to stay inside and to not come over until the alien is taken care of, and don’t even think about going down to the docks to report on it, Kara, I know CatCo doesn’t have gas masks on hand.
She gets a single thumbs up in response, an unusually terse reply from Kara, who never sends one text message when three will do, but Lena doesn’t think much of it and just settles back down on the couch to flip on the news.
She watches live as the alien positively obliterates several of National City’s piers with three of its arms. The video feed shows people diving out of the way as wet, splintered wood flies in every direction. The esplanade is littered with debris as the alien rears up again, swinging its tail against the surface of the bay and spraying rolling waves of water onto the shore.
Lena blows out a heavy breath as she watches the destruction unfold before reaching out for her phone again. She’s just hitting send on an email to Jess, telling her to donate funds to the city to rebuild the docks, when the unmitigated panic on screen abruptly stops.
She sits up straight on the couch as she watches the dragon puff out a billowing cloud of purple smoke. It unfurls along the embankment and the remaining parts of the boardwalk, and slowly engulfs the small crowd of people fleeing the waterfront and the remaining stragglers on the shoreline.
Lena watches, mouth parting in shock, as they all stop running en masse and slow to a halt. The newsfeed goes silent as the crowd stops screaming, even the newscaster losing his breath as everyone stands still, lolling around on their feet as if held up by rubber and not muscle, before they all calmly sink down to the ground and lay down.
The sweeping shot of everyone resting on the ground seems to spur the news anchor back to life, and he resumes narrating wildly, jabbering and speculating like an auctioneer calling the Superbowl.
The dragon stops destroying more of the docks to huff out another cloud of smoke at a helicopter nearby. Lena sucks in a breath as the helicopter wobbles in the air over the people on the ground, but it just floats softly down, landing gentle as a feather on the nearest open patch of grass. Lena pinches her eyebrows together, bewildered, but before she can think too much on it, there’s a red and blue streak zooming into the frame.
Supergirl pulls up behind the dragon, and Lena only has a second to admire the sun glinting off her hair before Supergirl grabs the alien by one of its legs and flings it out toward the sea.
From there it’s a whirlwind. Supergirl and the alien lunge and splash and swing at each other at a dizzying speed, spinning in the air and dragging each other under the water. The camera holds steady on them for several minutes until one final breathtaking moment. Both Supergirl and the alien breach out of the water and whirl to face one another. Supergirl’s eyes glow for a split second before her heat vision activates and scorches across the dragon’s abdomen. It crashes back to the water with a roar, but just before it sinks beneath the surface, it huffs out one final breath of smoke.
It catches Supergirl visibly off-guard as she recovers from the fight, gasping for air just as it engulfs her. The newscaster goes silent once more, watching as Supergirl seems to go loose mid-air. She sways a little, drifting in the wind, a glassy, confused look on her face. Lena’s reaching for her phone, ready to call Alex to see if she can help, when Supergirl shakes her head and starts to fly, slowly and unsteadily, away from the scene.
The newscaster and Lena heave a simultaneous sigh of relief, and Lena lets her phone drop back down to the couch. The news switches back to coverage of the dazed, lethargic people on the shore who seem confused but otherwise unharmed. Lena’s just relaxing back into the cushions, half a mind to open her windows back up to let in the breeze, when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.
She turns, watching as Supergirl floats shakily toward her balcony.
When Supergirl lands, it’s with none of the elegance or athleticism Lena’s come to associate with her. There’s no graceful descent, no landing delicately on one pointed foot or shooting down from the sky to stop on a dime just before she hits the ground. Supergirl drifts closer and closer to her building, one foot outstretched as she reaches Lena’s balcony, but her foot catches on the top of the railing, and she topples over it, hands splayed out to catch herself. She spills over the banister and lands on her chest, legs arching up behind her and feet still hooked over the railing. She looks up at Lena through the glass window, eyes half glazed over and unfocused as her cape slides up the slope of her back to pool at the back of her neck.
The sight of her, glassy and dazed and draped over her railing like a wet towel spurs Lena into action. She throws the balcony door open and rushes over, dropping to her knees and reaching out to run her hands down the length of Supergirl’s arms, cupping her cheeks and tilting her head to either side to look for bruises.
“Supergirl! Are you hurt? Can you stand? Come, let’s get you to the DEO.”
“Hi.”
Lena stills, pausing her frantic checking of Supergirl’s pulse to actually take stock of the situation.
Supergirl, seemingly unconcerned by her chin pressing into the concrete or being curled backwards over herself, blinks up at Lena. She looks untroubled, calm, her hair and suit still damp from the water but otherwise right as rain, but the expression on her face is… vacant. Her eyes are glossy, just slightly unfocused, mouth parted as she looks up at Lena. She looks open, unguarded, and completely unaware, and Lena recalibrates.
“Supergirl, do you know where you are?”
“Your balcony.”
“And do you know who I am?”
“Lena.”
“Does anything hurt?”
“No.”
“Can you untangle your feet so we can get you up?”
“Oh,” Supergirl remarks, like she hadn’t noticed her feet weren’t under her. She tries to twist around to look over her back at her feet, and she shuffles a little, unhooking the toes of her boots and falling fully onto the stone floor.
Lena tsks and instinctually reaches out again, grabbing hold of Supergirl’s shoulders and helping her move until she’s sitting upright, propped against the balcony railing. Supergirl leans back against it, blinking slowly and looking blankly around, and Lena finds herself itching for the phone she left in the living room but unwilling to leave the woman in front of her while she’s so vulnerable.
It isn’t like she hasn’t dealt with an incapacitated Supergirl before. Lena’s saved Supergirl from more than a handful of scrapes in the past couple years, but never like this, never while she was conscious, never while she seemed loopy and almost childlike. It’s easier to maintain her focus, Lena realizes, easier to put the worry aside and work on a fix when Supergirl is in grave danger, in desperate need of help.
This, with her awake and seemingly fine but so disoriented is throwing Lena off guard. Normal citizens shouldn’t see their city’s hero downed and unconscious, but they shouldn’t see her like this either, unfocused and confused, almost as if she’d been drugged. It’s unsettling, deeply uncomfortable in a way Lena can’t put her finger on, and she can’t help but feel both protective and out of her element at the same time.
“Okay,” Lena says, keeping her voice soft and caring. “How about we get you over to the DEO so they can check you out?”
“No, thanks,” comes the quiet reply. “I’ll stay here.”
It’s Lena’s turn to blink confusedly back at Supergirl, but the woman is looking elsewhere. The soft breeze that’s been blowing all day blows an errant leaf off of one of Lena’s plants and into Supergirl’s lap, and Lena watches, latent sense of panic beginning to grow in her stomach, as Supergirl picks up the leaf and twirls it between her fingers.
“I really think we should get you over to the DEO. You seem a little… off,” Lena says, careful to phrase it as gently as she can to not cause any alarm. “What if I just have Director Danvers come here by herself?” Lena asks, half unsure why she’s humoring Supergirl before she realizes that Supergirl has probably never gone anywhere she didn’t want to go— on account of being strong enough to lift a space station.
“No,” Supergirl responds again, simply, not rudely, “she’s not invited.”
Lena narrows her eyes at that, trying to sort out what kind of laughing gas this dragon has breathed out.
“I think I’m in charge of that,” Lena retorts, but she sighs, because Supergirl just looks up at her and smiles dopily.
“Okay,” Lena tries again. “Will you at least stand up and come inside? I can do some research on how to get these side effects to go away.”
Supergirl acquiesces this time, or at least Lena thinks she does until Supergirl turns away from the open door to her living room.
“I’ll stay out here,” she says, words slurring a little as she points to one of Lena’s deck chairs. “Need a little sun.”
She sways on the spot, as if momentarily suspended by the breeze, before stumbling over to Lena’s deck chair and collapsing onto it. She trips on one of the legs and the chair breaks under her weight, but she doesn’t seem to notice, letting her eyes drift shut and tilting her chin up toward the sun. A small smile crosses her face as the sun warms her, and Lena finds herself unable to hold back a small smile of her own.
“You’ve got twenty minutes,” Lena says, already planning out her research on alien dragons and a call to Alex in her head. “Then I’m making the call.”
“Uh uh,” Supergirl hums, eyes still closed, and Lena raises both eyebrows. “Is’fine, Lena. Don’t call. Wanted to come here.”
The longer sentences are starting to ease Lena’s mind, but Supergirl’s response rattles around in her brain and she can’t help but ask.
“Supergirl?”
Supergirl just hums back at her again.
“Why’d you come here instead of going to the DEO?”
“Didn’t want to miss movie night,” she says, calmly while she exhales, like Lena had asked her what day it is and she’d said, ‘Saturday.’
Lena freezes. The pit of panic in her stomach drops out and her whole body clenches at the loss. She stands frozen, staring at the figure laying prone, sprawled out on her deck chair. Lena’s heart pounds. She feels the rapid thudding in her chest, hears it reverberate in her ears. She takes it in, the red boots and skirt, the blue suit, the cape, the blonde hair.
Her eyes map the features on Supergirl’s face, and she realizes with some modicum of horror how familiar those features are. The point of her chin, the slope of her cheekbones, the nick of the scar above her eyebrow, the slightly upturned, charming pull of her mouth. It’s all—
“Lena?” those eyebrows scrunch together and it comes out as a whine, and Lena is overcome.
The panic disappears, instantly replaced by a tidal wave of worry, of affection, of bewilderment, confusion, and a little hurt.
“I’m here,” is what she blurts out in response, dropping onto the adjacent chair and wrapping her hand around Supergirl’s— Kara’s?— wrist, gentle, caring. “Hey, hey, I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Mhmm” Supergirl hums again, twisting her wrist to take hold of Lena’s hand. “Better already. Just need a nap and then we can watch a movie, okay?” Her voice is light and airy, and the smile droops off her face as she begins to fall asleep, but Lena can’t let her go, can’t be left alone with her racing mind. She needs to know, needs to be sure, and with a pounding heart, she presses on.
“Have—” Lena starts. Her voice cracks and she clears her throat and tries again, wiping the hand not enclosed in Supergirl’s tiredly across her brow. “Have you thought about what movie you want to see?”
“Which Star Wars are we up to?” Supergirl mumbles, half-asleep, and Lena feels her whole body clench with the confirmation as she sweeps her eyes up and down the figure in front of her with renewed worry, checking for injuries she knows aren’t there, because it’s Kara, it’s Kara, it’s Kara.
“Episode Six,” she whispers, tightening her hand around Kara’s.
“That one. ‘S a good one.” Kara breathes back.
Kara shifts on the chair a little bit, and small as the movement is, Lena thinks it looks the tiniest more purposeful, the tiniest bit less loose and floppy, and Lena feels her shoulders relax with it. It shifts something in her, the worry beginning to melt into a tender form of annoyance and she decides to push a little more.
“Are you hungry?”
“Mm,” Kara hums, smiling again. Lena narrows her eyes at her.
“Do you want Big Belly Burger for dinner like last time?”
“Mhmm yeah,” Kara murmurs, “and those fries that I like.”
Lena smirks, raising an eyebrow, but Kara is completely unaware. Lena squeezes her hand and stands. “I’ll order the food, and you can nap until it gets here, okay?”
“Mhmm thanks, Lena.”
“You’re welcome, Kara,” she says pointedly, but Kara doesn’t notice. Lena watches her smile in her half-asleep doze, her hand twitching a little until the smile droops off her face and she falls asleep just like that. Lena stands there, gaping at her for a moment, then makes her way inside.
Twenty minutes later, after a text to Alex and enough time spent slowing her racing heart, enough time spent with the news to know that the gas wears off on its own, eventually, she hears a sigh and a creak from outside. Supergirl— Kara, god, it’s Kara— is stretching on the deck chair, which appears to be hanging on for dear life, and Lena lifts herself off the couch, grabbing the bag next to her and making her way back outside.
She sets a glass of water down on the drinks table next to Kara’s head, watching as she shifts in the sun but doesn’t open her eyes.
“How are you feeling, Supergirl?”
“Mhmm, good, sleepy,” Kara yawns.
“They pulled that dragon out of the bay,” Lena says casually, crossing her arms. “You did a great job. No one’s hurt. The effects of the gas seem to subside on their own.”
“Good,” Kara murmurs, tilting her head up into the sun again. “That’s good.”
“The food’s here too,” Lena informs her, unable to hold back a smirk. “I got us a couple shakes as well.”
“Thanks,” Kara sighs happily. You’re the best.”
“But Kara?”
“Mmph?”
“You have to change out of your suit first. Wouldn’t want to get any residual alien goop on my couch.”
It’s exactly as satisfying as she thought it would be. Kara’s loose, floppy posture stiffens as her spine snaps straight, her eyes flying open as the chair finally gives out from under her. Lena watches the wheels turn once Kara hits the ground, sees Kara’s eyes bug out when they make eye contact. Kara’s flick down to look at her suit, then back up to Lena.
Lena twists her wrist, letting the paper bag swing out toward Kara.
“Your fries?”
#when you haven't been able to write a word for months and are struck by this feral fever dream of a thing#and when you misremember the line in the prompt as being 'can i help you?'#and then don't include it anyway#OOPS#btc you're a hero as always <3#fic tag#anonymous#ask box
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could you please write a draco x reader fic, where the reader is hopelessly in love with draco, and she's not afraid to show it. but draco doesn't feel the same. and draco being draco, he rejects the reader with no remorse. then when the reader finally comes to the realization that she deserves better, she started seeing new people (not necessarily dating, but more like talking), then that's when draco feels a bit jealous now that the reader isn't all over him anymore. the rest is up to you, love! just something really angsty, you could end it in any way you'd like.
also, sidenote. you're an amazing writer and i love you!!
a/n: Thank you for your request! ily <3
To say you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, was an understatement.
You couldn't help it, you couldn't just stop the feelings you developed every time he came around.
When he walked into the room it was butterflies breaking out of their cage, palms growing sweaty and your heart racing so fast you were scared you'd be able to see its indentions.
It was scary at first, to have such feelings at only thirteen years old. So you did your best to ignore them. You did your best to stay out of his way.
That only worked for so long.
When you are friends with Draco and the people that surround him, it becomes very hard to stay out of his path.
So it was only inevitable that your crush on him would become so much more. Especially as the years went on.
He hadn't made it much easier. Sometimes you felt as if, maybe, he returned your feelings. How could you think otherwise? With the way he walked with you to class, carried your books at times and spent time with you. Just you. Alone.
How could you not fall in love with him.
With all that simmering in you, you finally let it out. You made your affections obvious, not afraid to show Draco how you felt for him. You had thought it was welcomed. You thought that the feelings would be returned.
It seemed as though he could only tolerate you for so long. Yes, that was the right word for it, the only thing he had for you was toleration.
Your shoes sounded on the stone under you, on your way to the Slytherin common room. You had just got out of detention with professor Snape. You suppose it was well deserved, you had seen Draco almost put the wrong ingredient in his potion, so you being you had wandered to his table and helped him, much to Snapes dismay.
Whispering the password, you made your way through the dim passage. Chattering of people from all years and faint laughter was heard all around.
You spotted your friends right away, seated by the green flamed fireplace, as usual.
"She just can't take a hint." You heard Draco grumble, you paused your steps, you didn't mean to eavesdrop but it seemed as if your feet had a mind of its own.
"Wait," Blaise closes the book he had in his hold. "who are we talking about again?"
Pansy sighs, seeming they had been on the topic for some time. "We're talking about y/n."
Your brows furrow. Going back to the first thing you heard Draco say, she just can't take a hint, what was that supposed to mean. What hint?
"Why can't you just tell her how you feel?" Theo adds, his voice is laced with annoyance, maybe this isn't the first time they've talked about this.
"I thought how I felt would be obvious enough, without having to say anything." He huffs.
"Well," Theo sighs. "apparently not."
You were becoming anxious. What were they talking about and what exactly was Draco feeling? There was streak of hope in you, maybe he'd confess right here that he felt the same.
"What do you suggest I say then, oh-wise-one?" Draco asks teasingly.
"Easy, just say exactly what you tell us." He clears his throat dramatically, adopting a mock version of his voice, "Y/n, you have to be one of the most annoying girls, I have ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. Please, oh please take the hint and leave me alone because these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time." He finishes with a clumsy curtsy.
The other Slytherins try to stifle their laughs.
You hadn't even noticed the gasp that escaped your throat until four heads turned to your direction.
"Y/n, I didn't kn-" You cut of Theo's words and apologetic stare.
"Is that true?" You ask Draco, your voice low, laced with hurt. Your nose was stinging and your bottom lip hung heavy, but you refused to cry in front of them. You wouldn't give them another weakness to laugh about.
Draco managed to keep his face blank, no emotions shining through. He shrugged, "Pretty much summed it up."
You almost flinched. He didn't even care about the hurt those words brought you.
You left without a look back. Leaving behind your friends call of your name. They weren't the ones you wanted an apology from. They had known how much you felt for him and didn't even bother telling you that it was definitely not mutual. They even laughed, like it was a joke, like your heart was a comedic topic.
The cold air hit your face, freezing against the tear stain tracks. You sat on a lone stone bench in the court yard, letting those tears make a home on your cheeks.
It wasn't obvious--his dislike to you. If it was, you would have gave up long ago. But a part of you felt that there was hope and you had chased after that.
Why couldn't he have just told you when you first let your affections known, it seemed that he had encouraged it back then, with lingering touches and soft smiles.
Looking back now, you notice that those advantages had slowly disappeared. You had been too caught up in his silky hair, those gray eyes filled with mirth and mischief, his angular face with high bones that no one could compare to, that you hadn't notice everything was unrequited.
A sick part of you even felt honored to have your heart broken in the hold of his beautiful hands, the part that saw him do no wrong.
Maybe that was the first problem, you put him on a pedestal, so high up you weren't able to see anything negative of him. You weren't able to see his cruel reality of his feelings towards you.
And he didn't even seem sorry. He didn't even look bothered by the damage of his words.
You were so nice and considerate to him. You would support him at every quidditch game, cheer the loudest even when he lost. You bought him presents for every one of his birthdays and even Christmas, each one sentimental and thoughtful. You had comforted him when he got those letters, that he despised, from his father. You had voiced encouragements when he showed a little tell sign of his insecurities. You had been there for him.
And he treats you like this, like you can be so easily dismissed. You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be called pathetic for having normal feelings and then being laughed at for it.
The longer you sat on that cold bench, the angrier you got. A bitter feeling growing in your stomach, melting away those knots.
You wasted all this time and effort on some guy who didn't even deserve it, some guy who didn't appreciate you. It wasn't fair.
"Hey, you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through your revelations.
You looked up and met green eyes framed with circular glasses.
"Yeah. I was just thinking." You mumbled, the bitter taste was stuck on your tongue, you wanted rid of it.
"Mind if I sit and think with you?" Harry asked, he was nervously scratching the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you.
You offered him a smile, welcoming his genuineness. "Go ahead."
He sat there with you for hours. Surrounded by the sound of wind. It was nice and comfortable. The bitter feeling leaving you completely. You were content now, even if you could still feel the ache in your arms from holding onto Draco for so long.
Weeks had passed. Weeks of no signs of you. The first week Draco hadn't been worried, a little curious, but that was all. The longer it went on though, he became a little more than curious. Not because he cared, cause he didn't, just that if something happened to you, it would be his fault. His rejection was the reason you ran off like a fool to who knows where.
Which is the only reason he went looking for you. He already got a lot of shit from the others, he didn't need more problems stacking up.
He checked all of your favorite places. Starting with that tree down by the black lake that you enjoyed to lean on and watch the sun go down, the sunset wasn't near so he should've known you would not have been there.
He then went to the gardens, there was a bench there that was next to a small pond. It was filled with odd creatures and was home to your favorite flowers, lotus's. You weren't there either.
Lastly, he went to a certain abandoned hall. You had to be there. You went there to be alone with your thoughts, you had taken him with you there a few times. There was a big window there with a thick ledge, streams of sunlight beamed through and tiny rainbows would reflect on the opposite wall due to the cracks on said window.
He heard you before he saw you. A soft laugh reverberating through the empty hall, a laugh he had always found annoying. Hearing it now though, just made him want to get closer to you.
So he did, walking with light footsteps. He froze, you were not alone. Sitting there in the space he once accompanied, was Harry fucking Potter. What kind of sick joke was this?
Why were you sitting with him? And does that mean you just laughed at something he said?
Your laugh sounded through again, once piercing now melodic. It was a bitter feeling, Potter shouldn't have the honor of dragging that sound out of you, he shouldn't even witness it.
Draco left the hall before either of you saw him, he needed to get himself in check.
More weeks passed. Weeks of you hanging out with Potter. You were doing things with him that you had done with Draco.
It was on purpose, you had to be doing it on purpose. You were simply trying to make him jealous and it was annoyingly working.
But how could you be doing that when you didn't even look back to see a reaction.
Draco didn't know what to think. He didn't even know what to feel, or more like let himself feel. Something had changed in the weeks you were away from him.
A revelation of sorts. He missed you. Missed what you would do for him. He regretted what he said and what he never had the chance to say. Because maybe deep down those feelings had been returned, but he was just too stubborn to show.
And now he's seeing you realizing that you deserve more than blurred lines and assumptions. And he's realizing maybe Potter is that more that you deserve.
Draco doesn't like that one bit, he can't even stomach the thought. So he promises to himself that he will do everything in his power to win you back. Even if that means saying that he was sorry and admitting that he was in the wrong, something he's never had to do before.
But if that makes you his again and gets you away from Potter, then its worth it.
Part 2
#draco malfoy one shot#draco fanfiction#draco fic#draco lucius malfoy#draco one shot#draco x reader#draco angst#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy#draco x slytherin!reader#harry potter#harry james potter#slytherin#lexi’s fics ◡̈
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destiny led me to you | loki
pairing - loki laufeyson x female reader
synopsis - driven by the heartbreak of losing your entire world by the hands of thanos, you set out to find him, leaving destruction in your path in multiple universes; thus creating a horde of branches in the timeline and catching the attention of the TVA.
but you would do it all again if it meant you could see him once more.
notes - this is hopefully going to be a series, depending on the feedback i receive, i plan to follow the episodes only slightly because i dont want it to be an exact copy of the show.
[THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LOKI SERIES]
idea credit ( @horrorisunknowntoyou ) thank you for the inspo and allowing me to run with it!
warnings - death, violence, angst, and possible smut (in later chapters?)
wc - 2.4k
MASTERLIST • AO3
"Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same." A wrinkled hand reaches for your chin, running prune colored fingers along your jawline, doting; mockingly.
Your heartbeat pulses loudly in your ears, eyes glazing over with exhaustion and pain as you attempt to glare, the notion in vain as the titan merely chuckled amusedly.
"I can see great power in you, little one. An infinity stone pulses beneath your every vein. Tell me, where is the tesseract?"
You remain silent.
"We don't have the tesseract, it was destroyed along with all of Asgard." Thor interjects weakly from where he lies, his body held tightly in the arms of the black order.
Guilt sweeps across your being as you make eye contact with Loki, sharing a single nod as you both know what you must do.
Thanos grows annoyed with your unwillingness to comply as he walks over with loud steps, his footprints visible as he raises his gauntlet up, the power stone shining threateningly close to Thor.
"The tesseract, or your brother's head. I assume you have a preference." It's not a question. Merely a statement, one that Loki knows he must prove unbothered.
"Oh, I do. Kill away." To anyone else it would seem he couldn't care less about his brother's demise, but you know your love better than he does himself and you catch the glance of fear that washes over cerulean eyes.
You can only watch in trepidation as the stone makes contact with the God's head. Agonized cries escaping as his skin is burned by the mere power of the stone.
Loki does his best to look unaffected, but you catch the hitch in his breath as he batters inner turmoil. the universe, or his brother.
"Alright, that's enough!"
Loki turns his palm up, as a familiar blue cube materializes in his hand. The eerie blue glow casting a shadow upon his face.
Thanos steps away, smug. You force yourself to look away from Thor's accusing gaze.
"You truly are the worst, brother." Thor shakes his head, eyes disappointed but not surprised.
As Thanos moves to take the stone from his hand cerulean blue eyes make contact with your own and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as you recognize the look in Loki's eyes.
"I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again." He does not move his gaze from your own and you can't help but feel this is an unspoken goodbye.
"Your optimism is misplaced, asgardian."
"Well, for one thing, I'm not asgardian. For another, we have a hulk."
In a blur of color you are shoved from where you lie, a slithe figure covering your own as you breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon and leather.
"We don't have much time, my love. I just want you to know that I love you dearly, and I am grateful for the time I had with you. May I see you again, in Valhalla." His eyes are teary and you barely process his words, as his hands grab hold of your face and pull you into a kiss.
The kiss is desperate, filled with love and grief and you can only briefly kiss your love back as he steps closer to Thanos, rambling on about undying fidelity.
You catch a glimpse of silver behind his back and you gasp as realization sets in.
You move to reach him just as he leaps for Thanos, the knife poised for his head, frozen in mid air as the stones across his knuckles pulse.
"Undying fidelity, you should choose your words more wisely."
You cry out as Loki struggles in his grip, his skin fading blue. You crawl forward, legs aching as you reach for him, your progress hinged by your inability to walk.
"You will never be a god." The rasped words are followed by a snap as his neck gives out beneath Thanos' hands.
A tortured scream rings out and it takes you a second to realize it's your own. A broken sob leaves you as you crawl forward to reach where Thanos has carelessly thrown the body of your love.
You heave as your shaky fingers caress his face, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as you clutch him to your chest.
You rock back and forth knotting your fingers in his hair as you plead for the nightmare to end.
"No resurrections this time."
A portal opens and closes behind you, yet you make no motion to move.
You simply close your eyes and welcome the sweet release of death as the universe explodes around you.
N E W Y O R K 2 0 1 2
"'Coordinates for search and rescue, on my way now.' I mean honestly, how-" Loki is promptly shut up by the mouth guard that decorates his face, courtesy of his brother.
Displeasure makes an appearance as Loki is led to the elevator followed by the avengers that quickly file in. The only source of entertainment being the temper tantrum the green beast throws as he is denied entry. Loki can hardly contain his glee as he waves mockingly as the doors close.
As he is led to the ground floor his cuffed hands clinking annoyingly with every step he glances wearily around himself, dreading the lecture that is sure to come once he reaches asgard. He has no doubt in his mind that Odin will find perfect reason to throw him to the wolves, lest his mother get involved.
As he contemplates, his attention is caught by the sound of his brother calling for help, the guards holding him, attending to what he perceives to be a heart attack, to none other than the man of metal.
He watches, confused as a small stature kicks the case holding the tesseract away from view as the others tend to Stark.
Looking around bemused he watches to see what will conspire next. Before any other move can be made a shout is heard as the doors to the staircase along with the wall is torn apart, the hulk making his distaste for the tedious activity known.
For once since meeting the beast he feels thankful, as the case holding the tesseract is knocked open, the familiar cube sliding towards his foot.
A beat passes and grabbing a hold of the familiar cube he glances around, vanishing in a thin cloud of blue.
T V A U N K N O W N
Hurried footsteps echo down the corridor as the man moves with barely contained excitement. Tie swinging to and fro, a slightly wrinkled hand pulls at the collar of his neck nervously.
Mobius had seen many variants in his time at the TVA. Yet, none had ever come close to interesting as the file he currently held in one hand. Variant L1130 or Loki, as he was called, was perhaps one of the most complicated cases he had come across.
Born as a legend of mythology it was quite unbelievable to know that not only was he real, but he happened to be in their custody for creating a new branch in the timeline. Mobius could only hope Renslayer would agree to allowing him to be the God's superior.
Entering the courtroom, Mobius sits down and watches with rapt attention as Loki attempts to bargain with Ravonna. His plans are foiled as he tries to call upon his magic in a last effort to escape.
Mobius feels it's time to intervene when Renslayer makes it clear he is to be executed.
"You have no idea what I am capable of!"
"Actually I might have an idea of what he is capable of." He offers as he makes his way up to the stand.
His plea must be written across his face as Ravonna leans over to look at him directly.
"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea." She warns.
Nonetheless she reluctantly lets him go and Mobius has to fight off the urge to fist pump the air as he escorts Loki down the hallway.
"Oh, I'm Agent Mobius by the way." He offers a hand that is quickly ignored.
He can practically see the distrust written on Loki's face, his eyes calculating every move he makes.
Mobius is hardly surprised that as soon as he enters the room, his back turned to the God as he adjusts his projector, Loki is surging forward to attack. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he clicks a button on his remote, resetting the God as if the action never even happened.
"C'mon, let's take a look at some of your greatest hits." Mobius waves a hand, as Loki curiously sits down, eyes trained on the projector.
He finds himself staring back at a hologram of his attack on New York. His blue eyes darting back and forth with glee as chaos erupts around him.
A feeling of something akin to shame runs down his spine as he recalls his reign of terror on the city, an illusion of preying on the weak to hide his own fear, lest he fail and succumb to Thanos and his minions.
Loki clenches his jaw, arms crossing over his form in an attempt to hide himself as he turns to avoid the screen.
"I see no point in this-"
"No, no wait, this is just getting good." Mobius grins as he points to the screen and Loki finds himself once again face to face with another variation of himself.
He briefly recalls the time he had lost a bet to Thor and had to change his form into that of a ginger haired man wearing a clean three piece suit, claiming he had a bomb and required over two hundred thousand in midgardian money just to see if he could pull it off. He did, in fact, pull it off, but his mother was not happy as well as the midgardians who failed to solve the case, naming him D.B. Cooper as they had no clue as to his real identity.
His attention is pulled to the screen as a familiar voice of silk enters the scene and he watches as his mother speaks to his future self, his eyes drawn into her face.
"Then am I not your mother?" He hears her ask. Yes, you are.
"No. You are not." Loki's eyes start to mist as he watches the look of hurt pass over his mother's features before she schools her expression into one of contempt.
"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself." She decides.
The screen flickers and he sees himself talking to an intruder, his voice amused as he suggests the monster to take the stairs to the left.
Then, his mother, Frigga, lying on the cold ground, a puddle of red growing rapidly beneath her body as her eyes remained closed.
His breath hitches, anger now licking up his spine. He turns sharply to Mobius who smartly remains silent.
"What is this! Some cruel joke? Where is she?! Where do you have her?"
Mobius steps forward, expression neutral as he speaks.
"She's dead Loki. This is the future, it's destined to happen, again and again because that's how it should be."
Loki falters his eyes narrowing as he spits "You're lying! I'll kill you!"
"What? Like you killed your mother."
There's a split second of silence before an angered shout is heard, a chair splitting the air as it crashes into pieces along the floor.
Before anything else can be said Mobius is summoned by Hunter B-15, his eyes falling to Loki who remains silent and he leaves with a slight tinge of guilt burrowing in his chest at the haunted look in the God's eyes.
"You think yourself so sly don't you." Loki looks up at the unfamiliar voice as the projector suddenly comes to life, a new image flicking gently on screen. His eyes catch upon your form and he watches in awe and wonder as you sit beside his future self.
"I don't think, love. I know." He grins leaning in to steal a kiss from you that leaves you both breathless.
He watches as your eyes are filled with nothing but love and adoration for him as you lean into his side.
"Loki?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Do you believe in soulmates?"
Loki tilts his head in contemplation as he looks to you, before a soft grin pulls at his lips.
"I didn't until I met you. I know that no matter who or what tries to tear us apart, we will always find a way back to each other."
A smile breaks out onto your face and Loki watches in stunned silence as the clip ends with the two of your voices fading into laughter.
"You two are meant to be together."
Loki turns as Mobius slowly comes to a stop behind him, his expression thoughtful.
"I don't enjoy hurting people you know." He responds, motioning towards the screen in reference to his attack on New York and the death of his mother.
Mobius doesn't respond, and he takes that as a sign to continue.
"I do it because I have to. Because I've had to." He looks down as he fiddles with his fingers.
Mobius hums as he replies.
"Why? Why do you think that is?"
"It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."
Realization lights up in Mobius' eyes as he answers back.
"A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."
"A villain." Loki sums up.
"Not the way I see it."
There's a mutual silence between them before Mobius sighs.
"Look I can't offer you salvation but I can offer you something better. A fugitive variant has been killing our minutemen."
"And let me guess, you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him."
"That's right."
"How could I possibly be of use to you?"
"That's the thing. The variant we are hunting, we believe is y/n." Mobius looks towards the projector where your image is still.
"I beg your pardon?"
U N K N O W N
Mutilated bodies line the floor as a hooded figure steps over them, eyes glowing an unnatural hue.
"Is it finished?"
"Yes."
A wicked laugh fills the empty space as a portal opens in the deserted land, a set of footsteps following through.
"I'm coming for you, my love."
#loki series#loki x reader#loki laufeyson x female reader#tom hiddleston#loki spoilers#fanfic#loki fanfic#bizzarebarnes
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Forgive and Forget
Summary: Snapping his fingers to make half of the population disappear was not the only plan Thanos had for the stones.
Words: 1,794
One I Two I Three I Four
Wanda woke up by the sun shining brightly and a hand hitting her cheek. She turned around confused, trying to see who was hitting her and why when another hand fell on her eyes. She took the hand away from her eyes and immediately realized it was the hand of a baby.
She heard giggles around her and soon a voice followed. "Tommy! Billy! I told you not to wake Mama!" Wanda turned to look at the door just in time to see Y/n hold a spatula while her other hand rested on her hips.
She had an apron on and it was very clear she was cooking breakfast. "Mama?" Wanda whispered confused. "Sorry Mommy" They answered. Y/n only needed to look at them to let them know what they had to do. They turned around to look at Wanda and spoke at the same time. "Sorry for waking you, Mama".
They were absolutely adorable. Wanda couldn't help but smile and caressed both of their heads. "It's alright". "Go on boys. Breakfast is ready," Y/n said entering the bedroom. "What about Mama?" Tommy asked. "I'll take care of her".
Both boys giggled and ran out of the room in a race. Y/n slowly walked towards Wanda as the ginger looked at the last place she saw the twins. Y/n left the spatula on the bed and crawled until she was sitting in Wanda's lap. Seeing she didn't have Wanda's attention, she gently held her wife's face and kissed from her cheek to her ear, where she bit her lobe. Wanda softly moaned and turned her complete attention to the girl on top of her.
"You were taking your time" She whispered before lowering her kisses to Wanda's neck. She was about to reply but Y/n bitting her neck made her stop right on her track. "Keep your eyes on the door. We don't want the kids seeing things they shouldn't".
As soon as she saw Wanda's eyes on the door she opened her robe and pulled her shirt down, to free space of her chest. She kept her way from Wanda's neck to her chest and her hands moved under the shirt and up, to hold her boobs. She softly caressed Wanda's nipples before pitching them.
Wanda opened her mouth to moan but Y/n stopped her with a kiss. Wanda's hands travelled down from Y/n's back to her ass and took the liberty to squeeze it. Y/n broke the kiss with a smile on her face before kissing Wanda's nose.
"Let's go. The boys are waiting" She started to move away from Wanda's lap but Wanda stopped her. "Didn't you told them you would take care of me?. Take care of me" She begged. Y/n laughed and kissed her again. "Come on, we can do that later".
When they got to the table the kids had finished half of their chocolate milk and had barely eaten the bacon and eggs on their plates. Both women chuckled and each sat down next to one kid and cleaned their mouths before making sure they eat their food.
"Can you get them ready? They're gonna be late for school" Y/n asked as she picked up the dishes from the kids. "I'll wait for you to eat". "You bet you will" Wanda whispered against her lips before quickly stealing a kiss from the girl.
She called the twins and walked them towards the bathroom. She washed their teeth and combed them. She got their backpacks and walked them towards the front of the house, where they waited for the bus to arrive. She kissed their foreheads and send them to school.
"Ready for breakfast?" Y/n asked taking the apron off. Wanda bit her lower lip with a smile and pulled the girl by the waist. "More than ready" She whispered before smashing her lips on Y/n's. She pulled her hands under the girl's ass and pulled her up. Y/n hugged Wanda's waist with her legs and let her walk towards the bedroom.
Wanda played with Y/n's hair as the girl draw circles on her side. They were quietly caressing each other and enjoying their time together. And since being in each other's arms was calming enough, Wanda ended up falling asleep.
"No, Wanda-". "No?" Wanda let out a weak chuckle. "No, I mean yes, I mean" Y/n sighed. "I don't want you to ask me to marry you because you're dying". "
I'm not asking you because I'm dying" Wanda hardly said. Even talking was a big effort. "I'm asking you because I love you". "Not when you're dying" Y/n cried. "I'm sorry... I... I wanted to ask you. So many times... I had so many opportunities... And I was too coward to do it".
"Wanda-". "I'm not asking you to marry me" Y/n squeezed the box in her hand to try and stop the tears from falling. She could feel Wanda's tears falling on her neck. "I'm just asking you... To never forget me".
"I could never" Y/n whispered. "I love you". Wanda smiled. "I love you too Y/n/n. Thank you for everything".
Wanda woke up with a sharp pain in her torso, and a big pain in her head. She touched her forehead and looked at her hand when a liquid that shouldn't be there was dropping down. When she took a look at it, she quickly realized that it was blood.
She looked around her and quickly sat down on the bed when she realized Y/n wasn't with her. The pain in her torso increased as the blanket dropped to her lap. She got a perfect view of a piece of a tree perfectly stabbed into her.
She wasn't naked either. She was wearing the suit of her dreams. It was also filled with blood. "Y/n?" She asked hardly. She slowly stood up and walked with difficulty towards the front of the house. She looked in the living room, the kitchen, and the boys' rooms. But Y/n wasn't anywhere.
"Y/n/n?". "Wanda" The voice right behind her scared her and made her jump. She turned around, where Y/n stood in her suit, with her hair a mess and tears running down her cheeks. "What's wrong?". "The boys are gone," She said. "They're gone, Wanda. They're gone."
Wanda tried to go to Y/n, but she dropped to her knees in a big scream that made Wanda stop. "They're gone" She sobbed. Slowly Wanda dropped to her knees trying to no more the piece of the tree. She took Y/n's shoulder and lifted her chin.
"It's okay, we're gonna find them" She would lie if she said she wasn't worried. But everything was pretty much confusing to her at the moment. "But Wanda... I don't remember you" Y/n said. Wanda looked at her confused before everything started to spin. Her head was moving all around and dizziness took over her pretty soon.
She fell to the floor and listened at Y/n screaming she didn't remember her before her consciousness slept away.
"Wanda... Wanda!" She opened her eyes confused and in pain. Everything in her body hurt. Even blinking seemed like a horrible decision. "Mmm?". "Oh thank god" Bucky sighed. "You're good". "She's not good, dumbass. She has a tree bark stabbed in her torso and she has a contusion!".
"I meant, she's alive you idiot". Wanda slowly sat down and quiet them before Sam had a chance to answer. "Guys" She called. Both adults looked at her before answering. "Sorry Wands". "Where are we?" She asked looking around. Bucky and Sam looked at each other trying to answer her but neither of them knew.
She took a quick look around her before deciding to lay down once more. She was too exhausted to even want to know what was happening. She felt a pair of legs under her head that she didn't notice was there before.
She recognized them as Bucky's legs. Then she felt his metal arm on her forehead. "How bad are you feeling?" He asked. "I'm alright" She whispered. "Not bad to have a concussion" She recognized.
"Good. Cause we need you" She opened her eyes and the three avengers looked up to the one and only, Doctor Strange. "Need her for what?" Sam asked the doctor standing up in front of her. Protecting her from him.
Strange looked at the three of them before sighing. "Thanos didn't only snap us from our reality. He also erased us from their minds". "What!?". "How did he do that!?" Bucky asked. "He used the mind stone. However, he did not erase our existence" He explained. "Like?" Sam asked.
"Like we existed in the work. We had our families, our jobs. People only don't remember us. Until now" He said. "What do you mean?" Wanda asked. Strange looked at her before deciding to answer her. "There are more worlds than the one we live in. Different versions. We called it the multi-universe, and we protect it. Thanos using the mind stone was not how it was supposed to go-".
"You knew he was gonna do that?" Wanda asked. "...Yeah. I did. But it was the course of our universe. Of course, we were still remembered by everyone and within five years the avengers would have found a way to bring everyone back. Thanos using the mind stone set a new course. To fix the timeline we need at least one avenger to remember us. That way everything will follow back in order".
"How do we do that?" Bucky asked. Strange sighed. "This was not how it was supposed to happen. But after being brought back by the avengers, Y/n was gonna be hurt enough to fall in a coma after the battle with Thanos. Wanda would've been too desperate to get her back she unintentionally would have created a hex around a town. And inside her fantasy world, Y/n would've been fine. But after a while, everything would have crumbled and Wanda would have become what she is supposed to be".
"And what is that?" She asked. "The Scarlet Witch," He said. "The scarlet what now?" Bucky asked. "Witch" Sam answered without moving his gaze from Strange. Instead, the wizard looked at the ginger. "You're supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. You control chaos magic, Wanda. There's a whole chapter on the Darkhold, the book of the damn, dedicated to you. Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme" He explained.
Both boys looked at the girl in pure surprise. Who knew the depressed 28-year-old they met a few years ago would turn out to be the most powerful legendary witch? You don't get that every day. "I can't communicate with our reality, but I know you can," He said.
"How?" She asked.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#marvel#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#marvel imagine#wanda maximoff x you#mcu#wanda maximoff imagine#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch#avengers imagine
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Warmth of your Touch || Eren Jaeger
➳ Eren Jaeger x Fem Reader
Word Count: 4K
Warnings: contains spoilers from season three
Taglist: @jaegerbomb20 @sleepysnk (message to be on it in the future)
➳ Note: This is from my canceled december event and it was just laying around in my drafts, i might start posting more of those! Also ignore the typos and such, this is HEAVILY UNEDITED.
The members of the Survey Corps couldn’t remember the last time they let loose and had fun. Around here, everyone was on their tiptoes, waiting for any enemy to strike. Really, all of humanity was like this. But the Scout Regiment was the first line of defense, and they always went underground first before anyone else.
Many casualties swept over the brigade. The return to Shinganshina hit hardest. With the Beast Titan arrival and the fight put up by the Colossal and the Armored inflicted more damage than any group of titans could. With the death of Commander Erwin, and the retrieval of Reiner by the Cart Titan and Zeke, it wasn’t right. With the soldiers returning back home, it was quiet. No one dared to speak another word.
Only 20 or less able bodies made it back home to their families and were lucky enough to see the rays of the sun and breathe in the air that the Earth gave them. Too bad others were left on that battlefield on that day, their bodies becoming one with mother nature once more.
The days slowly but surely started to get shorter as summer turned to fall. The colors of the leaves changed for the season, right on time. The hot sticky air turned to crisp, and more damp. The sky let out it’s tears and covered the earth with grey blankets more often. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, as the fluffy white shapes overtook the sky. The rays barely peeked through them, unable to give light for the day.
With the help of Eren’s new hardening technique, he was able to make a new weapon that saved many soldiers from here on out. Hanji was enraptured about it. This experiment, that was a success, was all she could speak about. Nothing else mattered in her mind, and Captain Levi knew that as well.
Eren was pushed to the brim with this. Day after day, night after night, the boy was exhausted. They pushed him beyond his limits for the technique. Sometimes, he was in and out of consciousness. His titan form decreased in size, his bones would crack upon another transformation to the point where he couldn’t even stabilize himself with his own legs that had the width of twigs.
Fall soon turned over for the year and gave the duty of the seasons to Winter. Winter came rather hard, and quick at that. The harsh winds sent chills up and down the soldiers' spines as they paid their respects to their fallen comrades. An assortment of bouquets were placed in front of the many grey stones that represented a daughter, a son, a father or a mother.
The dirt underneath the boots of the breathing was moist from the rain. The crunches of leaves was the only noise that rang in a soldier’s ears, despite the sobs from others.
Eren couldn’t help but carry the burden. He felt as if it was his fault for their deaths. Their sacrifices, only to keep him alive and well. Humanity’s Last Hope. With the newfound memories from his father, he knew that everything laid in his hands.
☽✧ ✦ ✧☾
The seasons passed as they always did. Life in the walls became busy once more. In a year, the Scouts were able to wipe all the leftover titans in Wall Maria. This meant old residents of this wall were able to return to their homes and start all over again. There was nothing wrong with that, but it meant that the fight for their land was over.
Everyone seemed to show gratitude towards the Scouts. At first, they hated the soldiers who would risk their life to put an end to the Titans reign of power. Called them ‘fat pigs who lived off of our hard working money’. Many soldiers of course took offense to this, but decided to stay silent. After all, they were right about the hard working money. Their earnings were the only things that allowed them to have the supplies they needed to survive.
Winter approached once more to the soldiers of the Survey Corps. Adjustments were made as they needed to happen. Hanji, was appointed as the new Commander of the regiment. The news of humans being Titans spread like wildfire between every man and woman in the walls. The children stayed oblivious.
The outside word began to shine brighter if possible. The world was rid of the filth that the Titans had left behind. The grass was able to dance in the wind as flowers began to grow from the soil. Animals were able to come out from years of terror, finally realizing they were free. Even though the man eating creatures weren’t attracted to animals, the sight of any being over an average height could place fear into the hearts of anyone, including living creatures.
The gust of wind blew against the windows of the rooms in the headquarters. Despite everything being closed, the nooks and crannies were able to fill the once warm shelter, making it cold and gloomy.
The Levi squad, that consisted of those left over from the battle at Shinganshina, were put to cleaning duty. Of course, that’s what you guys always did when Captain Levi felt it was time for a new cleaning, which was about every other day.
Currently, you got stuck in a room with Sasha and Connie. Your job was to clean the room, wipe the shelves, mop the floor, wipe the desk that was in there, make sure to sweep the room as well. It was a lot of tasks for a room that was meant for one person.
A hum vibrated in your throat as you stood on your tiptoes, using a rag that was given to you by the Captain, to clean the upper shelves. It wasn’t even that dirty. You would give it at least another few days before it needed to be cleaned. It was like Levi had a secret eye for spotting microscopic dust particles. It was absurd to say the least.
Behind you were the other two, Connie and Sasha. They did do their work! They actually helped, but for some reason they decided nothing to. You could hear their giggles and the clanging of their broomsticks knocking against each other. The buckets getting knocked over with dirty water didn’t help either but hey, if they got in trouble that was on them. Least you were doing your part.
Maybe you could laugh from your room as you watched them run until their legs fell off, begging for mercy as the hot sun burned against their backs. It always amused you when the Lieutenant stared up at them, unamused.
You flinched when you heard Sasha let out a screech and a cry of anguish discharged from Connie’s mouth.
“What are you guys doing?” you questioned as you swiveled on your heel, turning to face them. Connie’s ass had met the floor, a hand against the floor to keep him upright and the other on top of his head. Sasha on the other hand, still had her arms raised in the air, a look of revelating shock on her features. They seemed to be playing ninjas again by the way Sasha had her leg up and bent in a right angle.
“She hit me, that's what she did!” Connie abruptly stated, looking up at the two girls in front of him. “You promised not to hit me! I never hit you!”
“It was an accident Connie! Your head just happened to come into contact with my hand! It wasn’t intentional, honest!”
“What’s going on in here?”
Your eyes widened as you held the wooden stick with a vice like grip to your chest. Your heart began to beat a bit faster than usual. Your posture straightened up as you turned around to look at the short man.”C-Captain Levi!”
The said man looked up at you, then turned his head to Sasha and lowered his gaze to Connie, who was still on the floor. No words were exchanged as he took a step back, realizing the mess that occurred. The cleaning supplies were scattered across the floor, the mop and brooms were on the floor instead of the hands of Sasha and Connie, and not to mention the dirty water was spilled and engraved into the rugs. Yeah, they were in deep shit.
Without warning, Levi made a ‘come forth’ motion with his index finger, to the pair, glancing his silvery eyes to your stiff body. “Keep cleaning, I’ll make Eren come help you.”
“Yes sir!” you saluted him as fast as you could, internally shaking as the three of them walked out of the messy room. As soon as they left, you could hear yelling from the corridor and their terrified squeaks.
A huff escaped your lips as you bent over, picking up the spare cleaning supplies. Looks like it would be awhile until someone else came to help you.
He said Eren right?
At the name of the boy, your face heated up as you shook your head rapidly, ignoring any thoughts of them. It was often that the brunette invaded your unconscious mind and overtook every crevice of it. His eyes were absolutely beautiful. They had to be your favorite part of him, besides his personality. The way the irises shined in the sunlight, the rays giving them an ethereal look. His lashes complimented them. They weren’t long, but they weren’t short. Whenever he stared at you, you swore you could just lose yourself in them.
His appearance was changing. His hair became longer and rested at the base of his neck. His shoulders began to broaden as he got a bit taller as the year passed. His loud mouth quieted down as he became more realistic with his goals. He was still the same driven boy you met three years ago.
“Hey.”
Your jaw slacked as you looked over your shoulder. Eren was standing in the door frame, as he looked down upon you. It took you a second to realize what position you were in, on your hands and knees with your back facing him. Scrambling off the floor, you swiftly fixed the shirt and pants of your uniform. “H-Hi Eren!”
Fuck you probably embarassed yourself in front of your own crush. He probably thought you were a weirdo.
“Hi Y/N,” he spoke calmly and walked into the room, brushing a strand of brown hair out of his face as he placed a hand on the desk, using it as leverage to crouch and grab a mop. “They made a big mess huh?”
“Yeah they did..they always manage to get themselves in trouble. Kinda shocked..how they lasted this long in the Levi Squad.”
An amused noise came from Eren as he looked out the window, squinting his eyes. Without speaking, he advanced forward to the glass and moved the curtain out of the way. “Well would you look at that..”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“It’s snowing,” he muttered and took a step back, letting the drapes loose from his hands. “Wonder how they’ll get punished.”
“No way it’s snowing?” you asked, ignoring his last words as you rushed to the window, placing your hands on the cold glass. You had just finished cleaning it, your hand prints would now be stuck to it. “Wow it is,” you whispered, a joyous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “We should go outside right now.”
“Now? Are you crazy? Captain Levi would punish us twice as hard than those two! We could probably be on our deathbed if we don’t get to work!”
“Oh hush up Eren! When was the last time we were able to have fun huh? Years right? Literally! Live a little!” you exclaimed, tossing the stick on the floor.
The brunette grumbled in protest as he shook his head, his strands of hair following his movement. “Thanks but no thanks. I rather live my life peacefully.”
An annoyed groan left your lips as you approached him, your lower lip jutting in an agitated pout. “Come on Eren. Please? For five minutes I promise! Levi is probably on the other side of headquarters right about now!”
He turned his head to the side, his eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were dull, but the curve of his lip meant otherwise. His fingers slithered around the silver pole of the mop, the pads of them moving up and down slowly as if he was thinking about it.
“Guess it can’t be helped,” as dramatic as he was, he let out a loud sigh and dropped the mop of the floor. “Let’s go. Before Captain Levi rips us a new one.”
“You’re the best Eren!”
“Uh huh. Now hurry up!”
☽✧ ✦ ✧☾
The two of you put on your winter coats. It was the same one as the ones you were given in your cadet years, just a bit more efficient. The hoods were over your head as you walked beside Eren in the falling snow. It could have looked like any soldiers left the building. Soldiers with no chores, is what you guys were going for.
“I think we’re clear now,” you said as you took your hood off, looking around the vicinity. Eren glanced down at you and did the same, running a bare hand through his hair.
“Well go crazy then. You brought us out here,”
“Shut up Eren,” a huff of air passed your lips, the fumes becoming visible to the eye as it turned to mist and disappeared. Your eyes wandered across the dark clouds in the sky, small white particles falling from the insides of them. The grass that you walked on, began to get covered by the blankets of snow, the crunching increasing underneath your boots as you moved an inch or two. Your fingers itched inside your pockets, begging to touch the white mess.
The tip of your nose began to grow cold as you let out a sniffle, scrunching your nose as well as your upper lip in the process. The cold was nothing compared to this though. Honestly, you wouldn’t have minded coming with someone else, but something about Eren made it ten times more special than a random person.
Eren watched you from his peripheral vision, staying silent as the shock and awe look on your face was enough for butterflies to appear in his stomach. You looked like a child in a jewelry store in Wall Sina. You had to have seen snow before, but it was just in the moment that made you look adorable. His cheeks burned with a rosy red as he looked away from you, craning his neck upwards to look at the grey blanket of darkness. If he looked close enough, he could see the sun trying to peek through the stubborn clouds, but to no avail, it could not.
He fluttered his eyes shut as he exhaled slowly, letting the days stress wash away from his body. Eren was exhausted. Emotionally, and physically. His body was used for experiments constantly, he rarely took breaks as he mentioned that he had to be ready for whatever. Emotionally, he hated his power. He hated being a monster like everyone said he was.
He attempted to be normal on so many levels. At first he knew he wouldn’t be better than those ugly creatures that used to roam the land. The townspeople weren’t his biggest fans. They tried persuading the Military Police to shut him down when he first found out about his shifting ability. It was horrendous. He just wanted to be seen as normal amongst those that were classified as a regular human being.
He tried so hard, yet no one could listen to him. He couldn’t see himself as human. In his eyes, he was disgusting. He was ugly. He was a monster.
Oblivious that Eren was in his own state of mind, you decided to take a moment to admire his looks. His eyelashes rested peacefully on the top of his cheeks, small puff of air exerted from his lips as his shoulders heaved up and down slowly. The tiniest of snowflakes landed on his supple skin, and melted away automatically from his warm body temperature. His hair started catching the fall snowflakes. The pieces of the small ice crystals scattered across his locks. He seemed like a snow angel, literally. The tip of his ears were a faint red, freezing from the cold atmosphere.
He was alluring. You wanted to know more about him. You craved to hear his deepest of secrets that only you would know. You desired for him to be by your side, and for you to take care of each other. The only person that knew of your crush on the boy was his friends, Mikasa and Armin.
Mikasa seemed to notice right away. In your third year of training, she took notice that you were more upbeat when Eren was nearby or you would try your best to be partnered with him, if she wasn’t already. Sometime in that year, she had approached you straight up, with the same look on her face and said--
“Do you like Eren, Y/N?”
“W-What do you mean?! Course I don’t like Eren!”
“You’re lying.”
She was in fact right. You begged her a hundred times not to bring it up to anyone, especially Eren. You would have rather been eaten by a titan, spit out and get devoured once more instead of having to confront Eren about your feelings. And of course since the universe loved messing with you, Armin happened to walk in on the moment you were begging with mercy and got curious as to what you were speaking about.
“Y/N, do you like Eren?”
“No Armin, why would you think that?!”
“Yeah she likes him.”
“Mikasa!”
At the embarrassing memory, you didn’t notice that Eren had already been staring at you, knowing that you were gazing up at him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you in any way! Why are you looking at me like that?!”
“I asked you first, Y/N!”
Panicking, you quickly bent over and grabbed a clump of snow, modeling it into a sphere as you muttered things under your breath. He couldn’t know why you were staring because you wanted to kiss him, oh god no he could not.
“Y/N?”
“Shut up!” you said quickly and threw the ball of snow at his face, a sound of shock leaving your lips when a noise of surprise left Eren as the sphere slid off his face. He blinked rapidly a couple times, small clumps of white stuck to his eyelashes, making his eyes more alluring.
“Did you just…”
“Yeah I did..”
It was silent as he crouched down, staring forward but not at you. His hand dug into the blanket of snow and modeled a ball, letting out a shaky sigh. His nose has gone incredibly numb already at this point. His fingers dug into the delicate shape as he made eye contact for a split second before winding his arm back, and brought it forward with full force.
Before you had a second of protection, the ice crystal came into contact with your neck, the shape exploding upon contact and sending pieces flying. Some even fell down your coat and into your uniform. “Eren what the hell?!”
“What?” his grin that has been gone for too long, made its way back onto his face once more. Your heart fluttered at the sight. He looked like his old self once again. As much as you wanted to admit it, you missed him. You missed Eren. “shouldn’t have done that if you weren’t ready for a comeback huh?”
“Oh it's on,” you grunted.
Little kids is what you became once more. Your shouts and his laughter could be heard miles away from headquarters. Shots of snow were being sent back and forth from either side, some hits being successful, others not so much.
Both of you had to have looked the same by now. Your eyelashes were damp from the melted crystals, as well as chunks of snow staying on top of your hair. Your nose was frozen off as the snow came down a bit harder than you expected, but you didn’t care.
It seems like hours have passed since you’ve come out here with Eren. Chores were forgotten in the back of your mind as your smile seemed to brighten by each second. It was sure that the water stains in the room dried, but left a foul stench in there. Captain Levi would for sure come and hunt you guys down for leaving your job unfinished.
A loud laugh left your mouth when Eren tripped over a covered branch. His body folded as he fell forward, a yelp withdrawing from his lips. His face came into contact with the snow, his body leaving a decent sized human hole in the ground.
“Eren are you okay?!” you called out for when you stopped laughing, small puffs of air leaving your mouth as you walked over to his limp body.
He grunted as he pushed himself up, giving you an annoyed look. “Yes I’m perfectly fine,’ he grumbled and shook his head, reminding you of a dog as the pieces of snow fell off of his head.
“Run.”
Puzzled, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at him in curiosity. “I’m sorry, did you say run? Run for what?”
“Five.”
“Eren what the hell are you talking about?”
“Four.”
What the hell was he on about? If this was another one of his ramblings from his father’s memories, you would personally knock him out and tell him to quit it. But there was a different look in his eyes. His eyes were squinted, small creases formed at the corner of his eyes, a mischievous look in his orbs. His fingers clenched around nothing as he slowly got up from his position.
“Three.”
Realization hit you like a wagon being pulled by horses as you took a step back cautiously, a small lump forming in your throat. Yeah, no. You rather not be crumbled to the ground by a boy, who weighed more than you. That was a death sentence.
Instead of running, because you wanted to be cautious of any possible injuries, you decided to speed walk in the direction of the doors that led to the inside of headquarters. He couldn’t try shit if you were already inside. God, why was Eren like this?
You didn’t even hear the crunches of the shoes from behind you as a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and knocked you down onto the ground. With a sharp intake of air, your back collided with the pillowy bottom as you wheezed for air. Your eyes widened when you realized how close you were to Eren.
His hands were by your biceps, caging you underneath him. His brown locks fell forward, but they weren’t long enough to tickle your face. His cold breath fanned against your face as you felt yourself drown in his eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before looking into your eyes. He felt all of his willpower from keeping him sane.
It seemed that his body moved on his own as he leaned down lower a fraction, as if he was getting ready to kiss you, but came to terms that it might not be the best idea. You took notice of it as you moved suddenly, bringing a hand up to his hood and pulled it over his head, making sure it covered his eyes. Your other hand raised up to his face, cupping the swell of his cheek as you leaned forward, pressing your cold lips against his own.
His whole body tensed for a few seconds before melting into the kiss. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat you both up, cradling a hand behind your neck as if to bring you closer. Your hands moved from his hood to the front of his coat, your fingers curling around the material. A new sense of heat seemed to wash over your entire body. His fingers danced on the base of your neck, shivers running down your body, not only from the cold, but from his electrifying touch. With him being at an advantage, his forehead pressed up against yours. Your fingers weaved into his hair, slowly running up to his scalp, desperately trying to stay in the moment.
He began to get shaky as he pulled away slowly, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth in the process. His eyes fluttered open as he took a look at your face. It looked like you were struggling to open your eyes after the kiss. It made him a bit prideful when he noticed this.
“Open up,” he whispered, tapping your cheek with his fingers, a boyish smile on his face. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, a hazy look in your orbitals.
“Hi Eren,” you forgot where you were as you glanced around the area, realizing you were still in the snow. “..I’m a bit cold.”
“Yeah? Me too,” he responded as he looked over your shoulder before pushing himself off of the ground, lending a hand for you. Gratefully, you took it as he hoisted you up.
“Do you think Captain Levi found that we weren’t there?”
The boy stayed silent as he thought for a moment before shrugging. “Who knows. Maybe he did and he’s looking for us right now. I think we should go back then, before we get punished,” he muttered and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.
You stared down at his calloused palm rubbing up against your own. His hand was different. It was warm and it made you feel safe. Who knew a connection between hands was more than enough to know about your requited feelings.
“Eren I like you,” you blurted out, your face heating up as you looked down at the ground, listening to the crunches underneath your feet as you advanced forward.
“Yeah? I knew already.”
“Huh?!” A look of bewilderment and a choke of air was all you could express at the moment. Who betrayed you.
“How—“
“Mikasa,” he interrupted, a hint of smugness in his tone. “I asked her to find out for me last year.”
“Mikasa?” You whispered, voice wavering. You remember that she swore to not tell a soul, not even him.
“But it worked out right?” He asked and looked down at you, a grin on his face. “You should really thank her one day. She may be silent, but she knows what she’s doing.”
You rolled your eyes as you nodded, hugging his arm close to your chest. “Yeah you’re right. Maybe we should both thank her. She does save your life after all.”
“Hey that’s one thing I would not do. I never asked for it!”
Your laugh could be heard from a few feet away in the midst of the snowfall. Fog began to cloud the outside word as you held onto Eren as a guide.
Upon hearing your laugh, it made Eren feel human again. His heart was beating faster than normal, a sign that he was feeling another emotion besides fear. The touch of your hand set a fire full of adoration within him.
Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, their short Captain watched with his hard eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He had just checked up on Sasha and Connie, who were cleaning the stable and happened to come across the scene not too far away from him.
Instead of deciding to approach the pair and punish them, he let them have their fun. Even if Eren was one of the most hated people in all of Paradis, even the most hated deserved to have someone warm their heart.
#eren jaeger x reader#eren x reader#eren yeager x reader#aot x reader#snk x reader#attack on titan x reader#shingeki no kyojin x reader#aot imagines#snk imagines#eren jaeger imagines#eren yeager imagines#eren imagines#attack on titan imagines#shingeki no kyojin imagines
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