#I just personally feel very thrown off by the using-someone’s-likeness-after-their-death thing

[mktskii]

—Burnt Pancakes and a Loser in Denial

—Synopsis: As a newcomer in a busy restaurant kitchen, you’re a disaster waiting to happen, and Bakugou Katsuki isn’t shy about making that clear. The hot-headed line cook has no time for incompetence, and yet he finds himself begrudgingly stuck with you—his clumsy, relentlessly upbeat coworker who can barely crack an egg. Frustrated with your lack of skill, Bakugou can't explain the nagging urge to keep an eye on you or why your laugh sticks in his mind long after you’ve clocked out. Somewhere between burnt pancakes and late-night cleanups, Bakugou is forced to confront the unsettling truth: he just might be falling for the one person he insists he can’t stand.

—Pairing: Line Cook!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!Newbie Line Cook!Reader

—Genre: Slice-of-life, comedy, romance

—Tags: unrequited love (sort of), slow burn, workplace, oblivious crush, enemies to (one-sided) lovers, Bakugou Katsuki x reader, harsh Bakugou, denial, quirkless AU

—Notes: ..uh...hi everyone. soooo exuse my insanly long absence. i could use my excuse that I had lined up but would it really matter?? MOVING ON! i got this idea from @/tokenirainanfriend on tiktok soo go follow him ! THE SERIES WILL BE ON HOLD soly because..well..i need ideas. if you all have any, PLEASE message me! i would like to keep it going for a while. also, apologies to people who can actually cook, I'm taking away your skills for this one. ENJOY!!

Bakugou didn’t understand how anyone could be this goddamn dense. Not in a million years would he have guessed that someone who managed to survive in the world, breathe in and out each day, would lack the most basic ability to crack an egg without turning it into a massacre. And yet, here you were, assigned as his new coworker in the bustling, chaotic depths of the kitchen—his kingdom.

As the restaurant’s most efficient line cook, he’d established a meticulous routine to keep things running at the rapid pace they needed to. No time for nonsense. But now? With you around, it was as if the world itself had taken a nosedive into hellfire. He couldn’t go two seconds without hearing you calling his name over the clattering sounds of spatulas, saucepans, and the relentless sizzle of grills.

“Hey, Bakugou..uh,” you called timidly from behind him, holding a spatula in a death grip.

“What?” He turned, already bracing for whatever catastrophe you were brewing.

You offered him a plate of burnt, vaguely pancake-like shapes. “Do these look…right?”

He took one look. Actually— one GLANCE, and he felt two emotions. Disbelief and pure anger.

“Do they look right?" He scoffed "They look like somethin’ crawled out of a dumpster and got hit by a truck. What the hell do you call that?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, grabbing the plate and practically throwing it into the trash. “You don’t call it food, that’s for sure.”

The embarrassment on your face was plain as day, but you bit your lip, nodded, and set to remaking the pancakes with an exhausted sigh. Bakugou had half a mind to scream—honestly, just to get it out of his system. Why the hell did it bug him that you looked so damn disappointed? It was your own fault for taking a job you clearly had no skills for. And yet…

Goddammit, it pissed him off.

It shouldn’t have, but every time you tripped over your own feet trying to get out of his way, or when you muttered a soft “sorry” as if your very presence was an inconvenience, it lit some unidentifiable fuse in him. Not the usual, angry fuse—something else, something gnawing and ridiculous that had his stomach tying up in impossible knots.

And he wasn’t about to let that feeling win.

A few weeks in, the irritation only intensified. The kitchen was a battleground, and you were making him lose his mind. Bakugou was convinced you were planted there to make him suffer—some sort of karmic punishment for every curse he’d ever muttered and every rude remark he’d thrown.

But something was wrong.

Because somewhere between your second attempt at pancakes and your third night shift, Bakugou found himself…observing you. Watching out of the corner of his eye as you focused, cheeks red with effort, brow furrowed as you strained to not mess up. If someone so much as raised their voice at you (and he was well aware, he’d done more than his fair share), he felt his blood boil with some twisted, misguided desire to tell them to back off.

And he despised that feeling.

Every time he caught himself, Bakugou wanted to smash his head against the freezer door.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, scrubbing a pan with more aggression than necessary. But when you glanced his way, offering that usual tentative smile, it was like the damn pan wasn’t even in his hand anymore. For all he knew, it had slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor—but it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the way his pulse thrummed a little harder, just because of you.

“Did you need any…uh, any help, Bakugou?” you asked quietly, probably hoping not to set off his temper.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed—almost.

“Pfft, as if I’d need your help. Just don’t get in my way, alright?” he shot back, trying to ignore the weird pang in his chest at the dejection on your face. But before he could stop himself, he added, “But, uh…I mean, maybe later, if you’re still here, you could work on, I dunno, keeping up with me. No sense in dragging everyone down.”

There was that smile again, softer this time. “I’ll do my best, then.”

Bakugou glared at the pan, willing his pulse to slow down, all the while knowing this was some cosmic joke at his expense.

It wasn’t until one night—one particularly quiet closing shift—that the reality hit him like a two-ton truck.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, humming softly under your breath, and Bakugou was stuck restocking supplies, fuming at the sight of you so…comfortable, so at home in the space you’d once fumbled around in.

And for reasons he could barely understand, he just…watched you. Not out of annoyance or critique, not out of irritation, but just because.

For once, you weren’t trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t telling you off. You looked…content. And when you laughed softly to yourself—at some thought he’d never know—his chest squeezed so tight he was damn sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Hey, idiot,” he muttered, so low he wasn’t sure if you’d even heard him.

You turned, eyebrows raised, that smile making his stomach churn. “Yeah?”

For a moment, he lost track of every insult, every complaint he’d been about to throw at you. Instead, he felt his cheeks burn, and he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

“Forget it,” he said gruffly, busily organizing the shelf with furious precision. But his mind was already spiraling into the depths of horror: Oh, no. Hell no. No way. This is not happening.

Bakugou Katsuki, a guy who’d barely thought twice about anyone, was…interested? Him? In you?

The thought was absurd. Impossible. But it sat there in his mind, solid as a rock, completely unmoving and irritatingly present. He wanted to punch something—or better yet, punch the feeling itself out of his gut.

For the next hour, he did everything he could to avoid looking your way, stomping around the kitchen like he was gearing up for war, trying to deny this…this idiotic pull. He wasn’t some clueless fool—he’d seen people fall over themselves, getting all mushy and soft around others. But that wasn’t him, dammit.

Yet the feeling sat there, mocking him.

And when you called out, “Goodnight, Bakugou. See you tomorrow!” as you walked out the door, he barely managed a stiff nod. He had an insane urge to follow after you, to make sure you got home safe. Stupid. You can take care of yourself. And it’s not like you’d want him hovering around, anyway.

He slumped against the counter, rubbing his face, silently willing this “crush” or whatever it was to just burn out like a candle in the wind. But he knew it wouldn’t. Not as long as he saw you, talked to you, heard that laugh and saw that damn smile.

Bakugou Katsuki, now a loser in love, was stuck. He’d be damned before he ever admitted it out loud.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

The Impact of Tech's Death: Was it necessary? Was it in vain? Why did Tech have to die?

Disclaimer: This will be a very emotion fueled rant and I'm sorry if my personal feelings get in the way. I love my boys, but there are times when I just sit there and shake my head. I do my best to understand their circumstances, but sometimes the Crosshair girlie in me really can't make sense of things.

The short answer: NO, it wasn't necessary. With S3 now behind us and my rewatch of S2 at its conclusion, it hit me just how little weight Tech's death had on the overall plot.

Let's breakdown the finale a bit:

The lead up: Tech found out that his long-lost brother Crosshair was captured by the Empire and sent to a shady place where no good was to come. He also discovers that Crosshair sent a distress message, warning his brothers to hide. Realizing that Crosshair was in danger, Tech decided to rally the others on a mission to find and track Hemlock's ship, hoping it would lead him back to his brother. The mission is a complete failure, with Tech being forced to sacrifice himself in order to save his family.

The Aftermath: the Batch is discovered by Hemlock, Omega is captured, Hunter cuts his losses, and Crosshair remains a prisoner

Here's the part that really messed with me: Tech's death DID NOT affect Hemlock's capture of Omega and it DID NOT change the ability to track the ship. The only impact it had was that Hunter decided to cut his losses and pull an early retirement. And even when Hunter is like "we're going to get Omega back," he doesn't mention Crosshair once.

Tech died to save Crosshair. Period.

(and the others I know, but this mission wouldn't have happened if Cross wasn't in trouble)

Which brings us to S3 where Tech is hardly mentioned, Crosshair himself is never shown on-screen learning of what happened, and there is no moment where anyone (except maybe Cross) processes their feelings about it. Why kill off a beloved character when their demise has almost no impact on anything? The only thing it really impacts is the speed of which things get done and Crosshair's mental health. It makes no sense. I think there was an interview where DBB said they tried to keep Tech alive, but couldn't write a script where that was the case. Ok? Then go back and talk some more about the plot. Or if you can't avoid killing him off, then show the characters processing it or why Tech's death mattered. The cynical side of me says Tech died in vain. I'm being brutally honest here. Tech could've survived and Cid would still sell out the Batch and Saw's detonators would still destroy the ship and tracker. From a story POV, it's pretty bad when a main character's death barely leaves an impact.

In CW, Fives' death enabled Rex and Ahsoka (and Maul by extension) to all survive Order 66. Satine's death led to Mandalore being thrown into chaos, thus leading to the Siege of Mandalore.

In Rebels, Kanan's death crippled Thrawn's Tie-defender project, made Pryce look bad, and taught Ezra important lessons about sacrifice. For Hera, we got to see her grieve the loss of her lover. Kanan's death mattered. Also, the buildup to Kanan's sacrifice was him becoming Caleb Dume again after everything he went through.

The buildup to Tech's death was great too because it was about the Batch trying to find Crosshair. And while the mission is a failure, it showed that they were willing to go back for someone they lost. They hadn't given up on him. But everything after falls pretty flat and only makes Tech's death even sadder.

Why did Tech have to die? Because he probably would've found Tantiss a lot quicker than everyone else. I really think that's the case and that's pretty bad writing if you ask me. I still love TBB immensely, but I'm willing to call it out when it falls short.

It also really pisses me off as a Crosshair fan that Hunter just completely throws him under the bus. I will let my biases speak for me because it really bothers me and I'm sorry if you disagree. I value your opinion too. I don't know if Hunter subconsciously blamed Crosshair for Tech's demise, but I would've felt a whole lot better if he decided to honor Tech's wish of saving him. Hunter was always going to go after Omega, so why not add Crosshair to the mix? Was it because he still thought Crosshair could be lying? I understand cutting his losses in the moment due to the pain of losing Tech. I get that 100%. But after, he just doesn't bother to think about Crosshair. Would he even have gone after Crosshair if the original last-minute retirement plan came to fruition? Crosshair suffered immensely and who knows what would've happened if he just got left there with no one coming for him. Tech was the only one who supported Operation: Rescue Crosshair. No one else suggested that idea except him. (I know Omega also supports it, but I'm talking about the boys). Yes, I know I'm being harsh and perhaps unfair, but it hurts ok? I know Hunter has no clue what's going on with Crosshair.

But here's why it bothers me so much outside of Crosshair getting the short end of the stick again: It makes Tech's death feel even more in vain because the reason for why Tech died is just forgotten about.

Let that sink in. Tech's death doesn't leave ANY lasting impact on the plot post-incident.

It makes even more frustrated and just heartbroken because of how cruel and unfair losing Tech really was. Had we gotten more time of the Batch processing emotions or taking something meaningful away from it, then that's different. But no. That's not what we got and I am heartbroken by it. At minimum, we should've gotten one scene in S3 where Crosshair (or anyone really) talks about it in a meaningful way. (No, "CF99 died with Tech" doesn't count). Yes, Tech's legacy can be seen through Omega's actions but that's not enough.

All and all, the only real weight Tech's death had was on Crosshair's mental health. And even then, it's only implied instead of said straight out. If Tech hadn't died, then Crosshair probably wouldn't have decided to enact Plan 99. (Or he would've due to other reasons).

In conclusion: Tech never had to die nor should he have died.

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

champagne supernova

summary - After the events in Sokovia, Wanda goes to live at the Avengers compound and there she ends up getting closer to Natasha, someone she initially thought hated her. Natasha had every reason in the world to hate Wanda, but seeing her so lost and broken with Pietro's death made Natasha, even if unconsciously, take on a protective stance towards Wanda, and the closer they got, the more a feeling that Natasha never thought she could really feel came to the surface. Clint invites them to spend Christmas with his family, feeling that some time away from the Avengers compound would do them good. And he wasn't wrong.

warning(s) — Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, More Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Canon Divergence, post Age of Ultron, My First Work in This Fandom, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Soft Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, mentions of Pietro, No Wanda/Vision, no nat/bruce, Natasha is a big softie, also is wanda, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Lesbian Wanda Maximoff, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Mild Smut, Eventual Smut minors DNI please word count: 14,550k

Natasha felt her heart ache with agony when Hulk’s image disappeared from the screen. She knew Bruce had been battling with his own demons for a long time and even after joining the Avengers and saving the world more than they count, even now that they had found a way to put Hulk to sleep with ease, he still couldn’t relax. He was always on alert. And things only got worse after they met the Maximmof’s twins and Wanda used her abilities to make him lose control and attack and destroy everything in his path. Nat sighed deeply, trying not to show any emotions in that ship surrounded by so many people she didn’t know. 

“So, where’s Bruce?” Fury asked, appearing at her side. 

“I don’t know. He turned off the communication system and kept the Quinjet in stealth mood.”

“Well, at least the Quinjet is completely equipped. He’ll be fine.” Fury sighed, running a hand through his head. “Go get some rest, there’s nothing we can do for now.” 

“Where are the others?” 

“Barton and Rogers are in the infirmary. Tony rescued Thor after the city blew up and they were thrown down, and Vision just left Wanda here a moment ago.” 

“Where is Pietro?” 

Natasha felt tears welling up once again at Fury just shaking his head. “How?” 

“Ultron’s final attack.” 

“Where’s Wanda?” 

“She’s down there, with Pietro.” 

Natasha nodded and without saying anything else started her way to the lower levels of the ship. She wasn’t sure why she was going to check on Wanda, why she cared, especially after what she did, entering her mind, bringing back her worst memories, but still. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to locate Wanda and despite everything, it broke her heart to see her like that: her head on Pietro’s chest as her tears streamed down her face silently. She wasn’t sure what she would do or say as Wanda probably held them accountable for losing her brother, and in a way she was right. If Tony hadn’t created Ultron none of this would have happened. She also knew that Tony meant well but still. 

Natasha sighed and approached them slowly, not wanting to startle Wanda, and not wanting to invade her final moments with her brother, but definitely not wanting her to be alone right now. She didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t very good at it, and the fact that she barely knew them didn’t help at all. Each person reacted differently to their grief, and Natasha had no idea how Wanda would react to her presence there.

“What?” 

Wanda’s heavy accent and annoyed tone pulled her out of her thoughts. “Sorry, I just wanted to check on you.” Nat sighed, kneeling beside her.

“Why? Want to make sure I won’t use my powers to kill everyone in here?” 

Natasha’s brow furrowed. Why would she think that?

“So?” 

“I’m sorry.” Natasha shook her head. “No one here thinks you will do such a thing. I just- I’m not going to ask if you’re okay because that would be a really stupid question, I guess I just didn’t want you to be alone right now.” She shrugged. 

“Why?” 

“I won’t pretend I know how you’re feeling but I know the feeling of losing someone you loved.” Natasha said softly, more softly than she ever thought possible regarding Wanda but then her eyes flickered to Pietro’s body and well… 

God, she was exhausted. She sat on the floor and leaned back, her whole body sore, her muscles complaining against the awkward position and the hard floor beneath her. 

“So, what happens to me now?” Wanda asked after a minute. 

“As far as I am concerned, you stay with us.” Natasha said, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, unless you don’t want to.” 

“And where exactly would I go now?” 

Natasha opened and closed her mouth a few times before settling for silence. She knew the implications of what Wanda said - she had lost everything, everyone. She didn’t have anywhere to go. 

“I know.” Natasha exhaled deeply. “What I meant is that you don’t have to stay at the compound, or with us at all. I know that you hate us, that you hate Tony.” She bit her lip, thinking about the options. “I mean, I hope that despite everything, you decide to stay with us, but if not, then I’m sure Fury can help find a place for you.” 

Natasha saw the surprise in the way Wanda’s eyes widened a bit at her words, at the way her brows rose, and she was surprised herself, but she realized that she meant it. Even if she was still mad at Wanda for invading her mind and making her relieve her worst memories, she knew what it was like to be completely alone and with nowhere to go, and she didn’t want that for her. 

“You’re right, I don’t like Stark, but you and the others aren’t so bad.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. That was new. And good, maybe. “What made you change your mind about us?”

“Your friend, the arrow guy, he could have let me die down there when I froze, but he didn’t. He saved me. He said that it didn’t matter what I did or who I was, and he didn’t blame me for what was happening. He said that I had the choice to stay hidden and he would send Pietro to get me but if I decided to fight, the moment I walked through that door I would be an Avenger.” 

“Yeah, this is how Clint is.” Natasha smiled genuinely despite everything. “Look, what happened can’t be changed, unfortunately, so, if you decide to stay with us, I promise you that we won’t hold what happened in Sokovia against you. It is your fault as much as ours. But the moment you stepped out of that door, after Clint peeptalk, you became an Avenger and we will help you.”

“As long as Stark is not the one responsible for me, I’m okay with it.” 

“Don’t worry, he won’t be.” Natasha smiled tiredly. 

Before she could say anything else they felt the ship preparing to begin its descent for landing. As soon as the ship stopped they made their way to the higher levels. Natasha nodded as they walked past Fury and led Wanda into the compound. 

“Nat! Wanda!” Clint’s voice stopped them as they were about to enter the building where the living area was. “Thank God you guys are okay.” 

“I wouldn’t say okay, but we are alive.” Natasha said. “How are you?” 

“I’ll be okay.” He smiled weakly. “Look, I spoke to Fury and he will take care of everything-” Clint gestured vaguely. 

“Thank you.” 

Wanda said absently and Nat could only imagine all the mixed emotions she was going through right now. She knew there wasn’t much they could do other than that but still.

“So, I’ll head to the farm, call me if you guys need anything.” Clint said when they remained silent. 

“Thanks, Clint, we’ll do.” Nat smiled tiredly. “C’mon, Wanda, let’s find a room for you.” She put a hand on Wanda’s shoulder, not even realizing what she was doing until they started walking into the building. 

Natasha led Wanda straight to one of the rooms, she could show the place around later. 

“My room is just across the hall.” She pointed to a room with a closed door. “You will find average clothes in the dresser and everything you need in the bathroom if you want to take a bath. God knows I do.” Natasha exhaled shakily. “Just let me know if you need anything, ok?

“I guess you want your jacket back.” Wanda said flatly as she started to remove the item.

“You can keep it. It looks good on you.” Natasha stopped her movements gently. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I was just messing around back in the church.” 

“Okay then.” Wanda smiled, pulling the jacket back. 

Natasha nodded and went to her room. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she started removing her suit and went straight to the bathroom. She filled the bathtub and let her body sink in the hot water as all the feelings from that long week came crashing down on her. 

She felt a mix of exhaustion, anger and sadness simmer beneath the surface, reminders of Ultron’s destruction, Bruce's departure, and the countless losses they had endured along the way. Yet, under it all, she couldn’t shake the nagging awareness of Wanda just down the hall. 

Here was this girl - no, woman - who had lost so much in the span of a single battle. Her face, streaked with tears, haunted Natasha’s mind. It felt strange to feel protective toward her after everything. She wasn’t sure what had compelled her to sit by Wanda's side earlier, other than the raw understanding of how it felt to have no one, to feel like the world would swallow you whole in the quiet after a tragedy. That’s why she avoided being alone, because being alone made her think about life, and loss, and herself. And she hated it. 

Inhaling deeply, Natasha sank a little deeper into the water, closing her eyes to let the warmth seep in. Her muscles started to loosen and she let herself relax a little bit. They had defeated Ultron, Strucker was dead, and for now they didn’t have any monsters or enemies to defeat, besides their own. 

The images of the Red Room started to resurface and Natasha let out a long sigh. It would take her some time to push all those memories away again. She should be fuming at Wanda because of it, but for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, she couldn’t bring herself to be really mad at her. 

Once her skin began to prune, Natasha reluctantly got out, wrapping a towel around herself and padding barefoot across the floor to her room. She slipped into a loose shirt and sweatpants, and she glanced toward the door, wondering if Wanda was still awake. Maybe she should check on her? Just to make sure she was settled.

Before she could change her mind, Natasha crossed the hall and knocked lightly on Wanda's door. The soft rustle behind the door confirmed that Wanda's was still up, and after a moment, it cracked open. 

"Natasha? Is everything okay?" Wanda’s eyes, still a little red, met hers, surprised but not displeased.

"Yeah, I-" Natasha scratched her neck. "I just want to check how you're settling in, if you need anything." She shrugged.

Wanda tilted her head, confusion all over her face but she stepped aside so Natasha could enter. She looked like she’d washed up too, hair damp, face scrubbed clean, but the sadness hadn’t left her eyes. 

“I’m okay, considering everything, I guess.”

Natasha glanced around the room, knowing what she would find there; the plainness, the sparse, impersonal feel. She knew better than anyone how stark the compound felt to someone who wasn’t used to it, especially to someone grieving. Maybe she should take Wanda shopping, this way they could turn this cold room into something more like… home.

“I thought…” Natasha paused, weighing her words. “I thought maybe you’d like some company. The nights here can be pretty lonely.”

“I-” Wanda blinked, surprised. “Thank you, Natasha.” 

Natasha did her best to ignore how her heart raced or how her stomach fluttered at the way Wanda said her name, with that heavy accent of hers and those big, enchanting, green eyes that seemed to see through her soul. 

“Are you hungry? I can make something for us or we can order anything.” Natasha said, desperately wanting to change her thoughts to something else. 

“I didn’t know you cook.” 

“I know my way around the kitchen.” Natasha shrugged, trying her best to avoid Wanda’s inquiring eyes and the little grin on her lips. “C’mon, let’s see if there is anything we can put together as a meal or if the boys already eat it all.”

They left the room in silence, and Nat was glad that Wanda simply agreed. She could feel Wanda’s eyes roaming around the place as they walked through the corridors down to the kitchen. 

“Of course you would be here.” Natasha teased as she saw Sam in the kitchen. 

“Nat!” He smiled. “Oh, hi!” He said to Wanda. “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Sam.” 

“Hi, Sam.” She shook his hand. “I’m Wanda.” 

“I’m sorry for your brother.” 

“Thank you.” 

Natasha watched the exchange in silence, attentive to Wanda’s reaction. She knew it could be overwhelming but she also knew that Sam was one of the most easy going among them all. It was easy to feel relaxed around him. 

“So, is there anything to eat in this place or you and Steve have already finished everything?” 

“Ouch.” 

Natasha smiled and started going through the cabinets and the fridge in search of something to eat. “Hey, Wanda, how do you feel about mac and cheese?” She had no idea what Wanda liked but pretty much everyone she knew liked mac and cheese. 

“I guess it’s okay.” 

Natasha looked over her shoulder and offered a small grin to Wanda. 

“I love mac and cheese.” Sam said, stuffing another bite of sandwich in his mouth. 

“Aren’t you already eating?” 

“I never say no to mac and cheese.” 

Natasha only shook her head and grabbed everything she would need to put the meal together. She could feel Wanda’s eyes on her, curious, grateful and confused at the same time. It was a weird connection that she felt towards Wanda, but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“Hey, Sam, can you put the table, please?” 

“Can I help?” 

“Sure.” Nat smiled softly. “Sam, please, show her where everything is.” 

Natasha watched them for a moment, and was grateful for how easy going Sam was. Maybe the fact that Wanda had not entered his mind was a plus for how good they were getting along but still. 

"So when do we start training?" Sam asked as they ate.

"What training?" Wanda perked up. 

“Fury wants Steve and I to train you guys, but I asked him for a few days so you can settle.” Natasha said. “Also you probably need new clothes and stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, we destroyed my home to save the world, after all.” 

Natasha sighed. She could feel all the mixed emotions in Wanda’s voice, and the worst part is that she was right. Of course, she would take the same decision over and over, but still. 

After they ate, Wanda helped them to clean everything and excused herself back to her room. Natasha watched as she disappeared through the halls, not sure what to do next. Should she go after Wanda and actually make her some company or it was better to leave her alone for a while? 

“So, I heard things were pretty rough for you guys there. Are you okay?” 

For a second Natasha nearly jumped, but then she remembered Sam was still in the kitchen. 

“Rough is an understatement but we’ll be okay.” 

“She can really enter our minds…” Sam gestured vaguely. 

“Yes, but I don’t think she’ll do this again unless it’s really needed.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha shrugged. “Maybe because I know what it is like to be in her position.”

“Fair enough.” Sam nodded. “Well, you should get some rest as well.”

“I will.” 

(...)  

Wanda closed the door behind her and let her body slide down to the ground. She pulled her legs up to her chest and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall down her face. Images of the last few hours played through her mind, over and over, as she tried to see what had gone wrong, how she could have let Pietro die, what she could have done, how she was all alone now; thrown into a country that wasn't hers, in a place surrounded by strangers. Strangers who she had hurt, in one way or another. Strangers who, despite having every right in the world, didn't seem angry with her.

Especially Natasha. She hadn't seen what memories it had awakened in her, when she entered her mind, but for some reason she didn't understand, Wanda could feel the weight of those memories, and she knew that it had affected Natasha deeply. 

She wanted to apologize to Natasha for that, but she had no idea how to do it, and even less if it would be well received, even though Natasha had been nothing but kind to her since the walk to the compound. Wanda closed her eyes tightly and leaned her head against the door. Tears rolled down her face and sobs made their way to her throat, making her whole body shake.

In the space of just over twenty-four hours, she and Pietro went from villains to heroes, and that was how he died, but that was far from easing the pain, anger and sense of uselessness she felt at that moment. She couldn't even kill the person responsible for his death, since both Ultron and Strucker were already dead.

Wanda wished she could let her powers flow through her body, like she had done in the church, in Sokovia, but that wasn't possible here. She dug her nails into the fabric of the sweatpants, trying to control her powers and tried to focus her thoughts on something else, because she knew that if she kept thinking about Pietro she wouldn't be able to control her powers for much longer.

A flash of red hair and green eyes shone in her mind and then the memories of her brother were slowly being replaced by Natasha; the fight in the church was something that, despite the chaos of the moment, impressed Wanda, because unlike most of them Natasha didn't have special powers, nor special suits, she only relied on her skills, but that didn't make her less than them. She was relentless, precise, strong, and she still managed to be effortlessly attractive. Wanda opened her eyes, shocked by her own thoughts.

During all the years serving Hydra and with her mind focused on her revenge against Stark, Wanda never bothered to think about any kind of relationship, never even entertained the idea of ​​getting involved with anyone, because honestly, who could she get involved with? Certainly not the men of Hydra. And among the citizens of Sokovia there was no one who really sparked her interest to the point of making her deviate from her target, from her revenge, but for some reason, ever since she had laid eyes on Natasha, that idea seemed to always be in the back of her mind, waiting to come to the surface.

"Wanda?" 

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts and she lifted her head, staring at the door. 

"Wanda, is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I- I'm fine." She swallowed hard at the sound of Natasha's voice. "Why?"

"Nothing, just checking."

Wanda narrowed her eyes and her thoughts began to race through her mind. Had Natasha somehow felt her powers almost going out of control? Or had it been something else? Wanda hoped it wasn't either of those options, but if it had to be either, she prayed it was the former. She sighed heavily and got up from the floor, running a hand through her hair before opening the door. "I'm okay, see?"

She felt a chill run down her spine at Natasha's piercing gaze, at how her eyes slowly studied her; her face, her body. She knew Natasha was looking for any reaction from her that would indicate the opposite of what she had said, and Wanda was aware that she wasn't very good at hiding her feelings, but after a moment Natasha just nodded and her expression relaxed, giving way to a soft smile.

"Very well."

"Do you want to come in?" Wanda found herself saying.

Wanda felt her heart race when Natasha just arched her eyebrows and smiled, entering her room without saying anything. She waited, fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, while Natasha also seemed to be searching for words. From what little she had seen of Natasha, she seemed confident and determined, but standing there in the middle of her room with her arms crossed over her chest and biting her lip, Wanda realized there was much more beneath her tough surface.

"I was thinking we could go shopping tomorrow," Natasha said after a while. "Buy clothes and shoes and whatever else you need."

"Sure, I guess."

"Great, we'll leave after breakfast then."

Natasha smiled, and even though it was a genuine smile, Wanda could tell she was nervous.

"Okay."

"I'll be going then." Natasha gestured vaguely.

"Sleep well, Natasha."

"You too, Wanda." She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. "If you need anything, just knock on my door."

"Thanks."

As soon as the door closed behind Natasha, Wanda walked to the window and sat on the edge. The large glass window offered a breathtaking view of the compound and the vast greenery around it. She had no idea where the place was, but the view offered a certain calm to her turbulent thoughts, even more so after Natasha's visit.

Wanda couldn't quite understand why they, especially Natasha, were being nice to her after everything that had happened. Sure, Clint had said that from the moment she walked out that door she would become one of them, an Avenger, but she wasn't sure if everyone agreed with that. Especially Tony or Bruce, who happened to be missing. Possibly because of what she had done to his mind. She had seen the destruction the Hulk had caused, and it had been her fault, Wanda was fully aware of that. She knew he hated her, and if she was honest with herself, she expected that feeling from all of them, especially Tony and Natasha, who after Bruce, seemed to have been the most affected by her powers.

But since she had stepped onto the S.H.I.E.L.D. ship, Natasha had been nothing but kind to her, staying by her side and offering silent comfort as she cried over Pietro's body. Wanda felt the hot tears running down her cheeks again and decided that maybe it would be best to try to sleep, to get some rest. The day had been too long and she was too confused and tired to really think about anything. She just wanted to let herself be swallowed up by the pain of her brother's death.

(...)

Natasha stretched, every part of her body aching from the recent battles they had fought. Fighting against super sophisticated robots sucked. She groaned and sat up in bed, reaching for the bedside table in search of some pain medication. After taking the medication, Natasha got up and headed to the bathroom. A hot, relaxing shower would help.

As the hot water jet relaxed her muscles, Natasha thought about the day ahead; breakfast, then taking Wanda shopping and taking the opportunity to grab something to eat. After that she really didn't know what to do, as they had nothing planned for the next few days since everyone agreed that both Wanda and them needed a break.

Maybe she should take the opportunity to show Wanda some sights? But what exactly if Natasha didn't even know what she liked? She shook her head and focused on finishing the shower before the hot water ran out.

"Good morning, boys." Natasha said as she entered the kitchen and came face to face with Steve and Sam.

"Good morning, Nat." They smiled broadly.

"Steve made breakfast."

"Then I better grab something to eat on the way." Natasha joked, accepting the plate of eggs and bacon that Sam was pushing toward her. "Did Wanda come down for breakfast yet?"

"I'm here."

Natasha turned around, smiling broadly at the sound of Wanda's voice. "Hey." She took the plate that Sam had slid toward her and handed it to Wanda.

"Are you guys going somewhere?" Steve asked, looking between the two of them.

"I'm taking Wanda shopping, she needs clothes, girly stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, okay." Sam and Steve answered together and they laughed at their expressions of slight panic and embarrassment.

After breakfast, Wanda and Natasha went up to their rooms to get ready and met in the living room.

Natasha led them to the compound's vast garage and went straight to her favorite Corvette Stingray.

"Wow, that's-"

She turned with a mischievous smile at Wanda's surprised tone.

"You haven't seen anything yet, get in." Natasha winked and got in the driver's side.

Natasha sped up, showing off a little and laughing at Wanda's expression. They left the compound towards the city and in a short time they were in downtown New York. She knew the crowds there could be overwhelming, but it was also good for distracting, especially in Wanda's state. Natasha drove the car to a neighborhood that concentrated most of the stores with clothes in the style she thought Wanda would like, because from the little she had the chance to observe her, Natasha doubted she cared about designer labels and renowned brands.

She was pleased to see that she was right about that, and before long the two of them were carrying enough bags that they had to make a trip to the car. At first Wanda was reluctant to accept Natasha paying for everything, but with some talking she managed to convince Wanda.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Natasha said as they loaded the last few bags into the car.

"I never knew shopping could make you so hungry."

"Right?" Natasha smiled. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

(...)

When they arrived back at the compound, they went straight to Wanda's room.

"So, did you have fun today?"

Natasha asked as she placed the bags next to her bed, and despite her tiredness, Wanda definitely felt a little lighter. Natasha's company was better than she could have imagined.

"I had a lot of fun today. Thank you, Natasha."

"You're welcome."

Natasha winked playfully, or rather tried to, which caused Wanda to smile softly.

"I really mean it."

"I know."

Natasha's expression changed from playful to more serious, but it was still gentle and soft. Wanda felt her heart race at the understanding she saw in Natasha's gaze, and she really couldn't comprehend how that was possible.

"Hey, talk to me." 

Wanda felt like a thousand butterflies were flying inside her when Natasha took a step towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her voice was soft and concerned, as was her gaze, and it left Wanda dizzy. 

"I- I just- I don't understand why you, of all people, have been so kind to me." 

Natasha smiled, and shook her head slightly. Her red hair falling slightly into her eyes. "Remember what Clint told you? It doesn't matter what you did, or who you were." 

"Still." Wanda held her gaze. "I haven't seen the things I put you through, but I could feel the weight of the visions I caused you and it's overwhelming." 

"You're right, it is overwhelming, but I've dealt with it once and I'll deal with it again." Natasha said gently. "My past is ugly and red, for the most part, but I got a second chance when I met Clint. And although your powers have brought up memories I would rather have remained buried deep inside, I refuse to let it dominate me." 

Wanda wanted to ask, wanted to know about Natasha's past, the good and the bad. For some reason she didn't yet understand, she wanted to know every piece of that mysterious woman, but she knew it wasn't the time, and that if Natasha wanted, she would share of her own free will.

Natasha was so strong, so resilient. Wanda wanted to be a little like her, but most of the time she felt like she was drowning.

"How do you do it?" Wanda asked, her lips trembling slightly.

"How do I do what?" Natasha frowned.

"How do you stay so strong?"

Natasha chuckled and shook her head. "Do you think I'm strong?" Gently she took Wanda's hand and guided her to the edge of the bed. "I'm far from strong, but there are specific people I choose to show my vulnerability to."

Wanda nodded absently, too overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling at that moment. "Still, it's more than I can be right now," She said after a moment. "I feel like this wave washes over me, again and again. It knocks me down, and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again and it’s just gonna drown me."

"Grief is a day-to-day process," Natasha said gently. "It's something that lasts a lifetime, I think." 

Wanda noticed Natasha's gaze grow distant, and she wondered who she had lost. 

"Grief, the worst of it, hits us when we least expect it. At first, we think that the loss of the person we love is something that will crush us, that pain in our chest, the feeling of numbness, the lack of will to do anything, but then all of that starts to become less and less and we move on with life. Until one day, something simple brings it all back, a thousand times worse." 

Natasha used the back of her free hand to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall, and Wanda wished she could do it for her. 

"The worst part of grief, of missing the person, is not the beginning. It's one day when you're doing something and you think 'he would like that.' or you see something on TV, hear a song, or anything really, and you immediately think of that person, you want to share it with them and they're not there. It never gets easier, but at least for me, grief comes from a place of love. It's a love that endures."

"You lost someone." 

Wanda found herself saying. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Natasha looked at her for a moment before nodding. 

"I know how you feel, and that's why I want you to know that you're not alone, okay?" 

Wanda knew Natasha wouldn't go into details now, after all, they barely knew each other. She had been incredibly kind, but Wanda knew there were limits for now. And she was okay with that. 

"Thank you, Natasha." 

"Anytime." 

(...)

As the days went by, things started to fall into place and return to a sense of normalcy. The new members' training began, and it was going better than Steve or Natasha had expected.

At first, Wanda had a little difficulty with the physical part of the training, the hours in the gym doing exercises and physical fights - usually with Natasha - but in a few weeks she got the hang of it.

Little by little they started doing some simple missions to see how the new members were performing, how they controlled their abilities and everything else, and both Sam and Wanda were doing very well.

Tony hardly showed up at the compound, which was a relief for Wanda. Natasha taught her how to drive, in addition to the Avenger training, but she still didn't feel comfortable driving around.

Thanksgiving was celebrated simply, just Wanda, Natasha, and Steve at the compound, although Clint had insisted that they go to the farm. Sam had spent the holiday with his sister and nephews.

The week before Christmas, Natasha finally gave in to Clint's insistence and agreed to go to the farm. She had convinced Wanda to go with her, also at Clint's insistence, and since he didn't want her to be alone at the compound.

They stopped in town to buy Christmas presents for the Bartons and from there they left for the farm.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to spend Christmas with you guys?" Wanda asked again.

Nat smiled, glancing sideways at her, not really taking her eyes off the road. She could feel the nervousness rolling off Wanda in waves.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Yeah, Clint's sure too."

"Okay." Wanda said absently, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt.

When Natasha parked near the main house, she barely had time to unbuckle her seatbelt before Lila was already running toward her, her small feet kicking up dirt and snow on the gravel path.

"Auntie Nat!" 

Without hesitation, Natasha swung open the door and stepped out, instantly lifting the little girl into her arms. Lila's small body melted against her, and Natasha couldn't help but smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Ouch, you've gotten big, kiddo."

Lila giggled and wrapped her arms around Natasha’s neck, her cheek against Natasha's. 

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Wanda, who was still standing on the other side of the car, a little more reserved but watching them with a quiet smile. Natasha gave a subtle nod, inviting her closer. 

"Lila, this is my friend Wanda," Natasha said gently, keeping her hold on the girl. "Say 'hi' to Wanda."

Lila pulled back slightly, giving Wanda a curious look before offering a shy but warm smile. "Hi."

The greeting was simple, but there was an undeniable softness in Lila’s voice, like she instinctively knew Wanda was someone safe. 

"Hi, Lila." 

There was something almost maternal in the way she spoke to the little girl, a tenderness Natasha hadn’t quite expected, but welcomed.

Before Natasha could say anything else, Lila tucked her face into her neck, her small arms tightening around her. 

Natasha laughed quietly, and just then, a familiar voice broke through the moment. "Well, look who decided to show up!"

Natasha turned, smiling brightly at the sight of Laura standing on the porch with little Nathaniel in her arms, his eyes wide and curious as he stared at the newcomers. 

"Hey, Laura," Natasha grinned, shifting Lila just slightly so she could wave.

Laura’s grin was warm, and her eyes were sparking with amusement. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten the way out here."

"Never," Natasha replied, her smile softening as she looked at the family she'd come to care for so much. 

They approached the porch and Natasha set Lila down. Laura sent the little girl to get Clint and Cooper, who were in the barn tinkering with the old tractor.

Natasha wagged her fingers at Nathaniel, who immediately reached forward.

"Oh, look at you, all soft with kids. Who would have thought," Wanda said, but there was no malice in her voice, just genuine surprise.

Natasha felt her cheeks immediately flush. Even though she and Wanda had grown quite close since the events in Sokovia, this was the first time she had seen her outside the compound, so carefree and somehow vulnerable.

Natasha had told Wanda bits and pieces about her bond with Clint’s family, about the kids, but this was the first time Wanda had witnessed it firsthand. The surprise was there, quiet but clear.

"Oh, Nat here is such a softie," Laura teased.

Natasha lifted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she shot Laura a look. "Traitor," she muttered under her breath.

Laura just grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "What? It's true."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curled up despite herself. She’d always tried to keep her distance, maintain the tough exterior, but the Barton’s were more her family than she would ever admit out loud because saying it out loud would make it real and she couldn’t afford to lose another family. 

Natasha met Wanda’s gaze, and held it for a moment. The way Wanda was looking at her made her feel things she never thought possible. Not with her past. She heard Lila’s and Cooper laughter as they approached them and this seemed to break the moment between them. 

“I have my moments,” Natasha said with a small, playful smile.

"Nat! Wanda!"

Clint's voice made them turn and Natasha smiled widely. His eyes were shining with mischief and he glanced between her and Wanda with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Clint didn't even flinch.

"I'm glad you decided to join us." He hugged her tightly, and then hugged Wanda. "Let's go inside, it's getting cold fast."

Natasha smiled, feeling her heart warm at the ease of Clint's relationship with Wanda. It was as if he had taken on the role of big brother, mentor, or whatever it was he did, and it worked well. She noticed how the tension was slowly leaving Wanda's shoulders.

The inside of the house was warm and inviting; the fireplace was lit and there were a few toys scattered on the floor, papers and crayons spread out on the coffee table, a bottle, a baby blanket, and some half-eaten gingerbread cookies on a plate.

As they stepped inside, the warmth of the Barton’s home wrapped around Natasha and Wanda, bringing with it the scent of wood smoke, fresh pine, and something cinnamon-sweet baking in the kitchen. Wanda glanced around, a quiet curiosity softening her usual guarded expression. It was a side of her Natasha rarely saw; calm, open, almost like she was letting her guard down bit by bit.

Natasha caught her gaze lingering on the family photos lining the walls. Each picture told a story: Clint and Laura on their wedding day, Clint and Cooper covered in mud from some backyard project, Lila in a princess dress with a bright, toothy smile. Natasha nudged Wanda gently, pulling her out of her trance. 

“Welcome to the chaos,” Natasha murmured with a soft smirk.

Wanda’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes still tracing over the photographs. “It’s…nice. Feels like home.”

Before Natasha could say anything, Clint reappeared with Cooper and Lila racing behind him, already caught up in some sibling rivalry and ran towards the kitchen, returning a second later. Cooper was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate, which Natasha was pretty sure Laura had spiked with vodka or whiskey. 

"Mom said to give them to you guys, it'll help ward off the cold."

"She said, huh?" Natasha accepted the mugs and handed one to Wanda.

She ruffled Cooper's hair and he clung to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Natasha's smile softened and widened, and her gaze met Laura's over the boy's head. "Thanks." She lifted the mug slightly to Laura, who did the same from the kitchen.

Cooper beamed, his cheeks flushing slightly. Lila, never one to be outdone, immediately tugged at Natasha’s sleeve. “Auntie Nat, we made cookies for you!” She pointed proudly toward the kitchen, where Laura was pulling a fresh tray from the oven, the scent filling the entire room.

“Oh, you did, huh?” Lila nodded enthusiastically, running back into the kitchen and rocking back on her heels as Laura placed the cookies on a plate.

Clint appeared beside them, smiling proudly as he watched his children. He looked from Natasha to Wanda and smirked. 

“Think you can handle that, Maximoff?”

Natasha snorted, a rare, carefree sound that seemed to make Wanda’s eyes brighten with curiosity, as if she wanted to hear it again and it made her heart skip some beats. Clint took that as his cue to clap his hands and rally everyone. 

"Alright, alright, movie time! We need your votes: are we going classic Christmas, or one of those superhero movies Cooper keeps insisting are 'totally holiday-appropriate'?"

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Classic, definitely. I think we've all seen enough superheroes for now." There was a flicker of amusement on Wanda's face, something Natasha rarely saw.

The group made their way to the living room, where Laura had already transformed the space with blankets and pillows spread across couches and the floor. Lila made a beeline for Natasha, curling up beside her and resting her head on Natasha's shoulder as they settled in. Meanwhile, Cooper took the seat next to Wanda, stealing occasional glances her way as if she were something magical and rare and Natasha couldn't help but smile. 

Once the movie started, the room grew quiet, the atmosphere softened by the flickering firelight and the comforting sounds of popcorn crunching. Wanda, sitting beside Natasha, seemed to lose some of her usual guarded tension, taking in the warmth of the room and this feeling of belonging that wrapped around them. Natasha felt Wanda’s shoulder brush hers lightly, the simple touch filling the space with an unexpected sense of peace that lingered between them as they watched the screen together.

(...)

The morning broke crisp and bright, sunlight gleaming off the fresh layer of snow that blanketed the Barton farm. Natasha was savoring her first sip of coffee when Lila and Cooper burst into the kitchen, voices ringing with excitement.

"Auntie Nat! Wanda! It snowed!" Lila squealed, her eyes wide with delight.

Natasha barely had a chance to respond before Cooper tugged on her sleeve. "You have to come out with us! It's perfect for sledding, or snowball fights, or building snow forts!"

Natasha opened her mouth, but Lila had already grabbed Wanda's hand, pulling her toward the door. "You can't say no. It's a rule!" 

Wanda cast a helpless, amused glance at Natasha, wrapped up in Lila's enthusiasm. Natasha rolled her eyes, smothering a smile. "Alright, alright. Just bundle up. It's freezing out there."

Soon enough, they were trudging through the snow, boots crunching over the fresh powder as Cooper and Lila ran ahead, their laughter echoing across the fields. Natasha watched them, taking in the simple joy on their faces as they dashed ahead, caught up in the magic of the snowy morning.

Cooper sprinted ahead, immediately scooping up snow and forming snowballs in his gloved hands, while Wanda knelt down to help Lila pack the snow. Natasha noticed the way Wanda's face softened, absorbed in the task, her gloved fingers shaping smooth snowballs with surprising concentration. It wasn't often that Wanda allowed herself to let go like this, and Natasha couldn’t help but smile as she watched her friend so fully in the moment, mirroring Lila's delight.

"Nat!" Cooper called, pulling her from her thoughts. 

His mischievous grin was a warning she caught just a second too late as a snowball flew through the air, hitting her square on the shoulder. Shaking her head with a chuckle, Natasha crouched down to form her own snowball.

"Oh, you're in for it now, Barton!" she called, tossing a snowball that landed perfectly on Cooper's back. He laughed, dodging behind a tree for cover, the game fully underway.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Wanda watching them, her eyes bright as she observed Natasha's rare carefree moment with the kids. Wanda's gaze held something soft and warm, an expression that Natasha couldn't help but feel a hint of pride in causing.

A small tug on her sleeve brought Natasha's focus to Lila, whose hands were attempting to form a snowball, her face lit up with mischief. Natasha smirked, joining in the playful plotting as she began packing another snowball, catching sight of Wanda doing the same. 

Natasha's gaze sharpened the moment she noticed Wanda's smirk and the playful glint in her eye. Wanda narrowed her focus on Natasha, packing the snowball deliberately, and a thrill ran through Natasha, settling as a faint, unexpected chill down her spine. Her usual poise wavered, replaced by a surprising spark of anticipation at Wanda's challenge.

"Don't even think about it, Maximoff," Natasha warned, raising an eyebrow and taking a cautious step back, though she found herself almost wanting Wanda to ignore the warning.

"Oh, I'm thinking about it," Wanda replied, her smirk deepening. 

Before Natasha could fully prepare, the snowball was already flying toward her, hitting her shoulder in a burst of cold powder that scattered through the air. Natasha laughed, a touch breathless, her heart pounding with the exhilaration of the moment.

For a second, she caught Wanda's gaze and felt her stomach flip. The teasing glint in her eyes felt like something more, something that Natasha didn't often feel; the thrill of letting her guard down, of giving in with someone she trusted.

Natasha laughed, and before Wanda could blink, she scooped up her own handful of snow, sending it flying in a perfect arc that landed squarely on Wanda's chest. 

Wanda's laughter rang out across the open field, a sound so pure and unrestrained that Natasha felt herself pause, caught up in the warmth of it. A smile crept onto her face as she watched Wanda, taking in the sparkle of her eyes and the rare openness of her expression.

"Is that all you've got, Romanoff?" Wanda challenged, shaking the snow from her jacket and stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Natasha grinned, feeling her competitive side flare. "You really don't want to start a snow war with a spy."

"Oh?" Wanda arched an eyebrow, her smile widening, clearly calling Natasha's bluff. 

That spark of challenge between them sent a thrill through Natasha, and she barely had time to react before they were fully immersed in a whirlwind of snowballs, laughter, and scrambling feet as they dodged and ducked around trees and snow piles. 

Lila and Cooper joined in, adding to the chaos, and Natasha found herself caught off-guard more than once by their surprisingly accurate snow missiles. Somewhere in the madness, Cooper slipped, tumbling into the snow and sending Natasha down with him in a playful heap. She barely had time to process it before Wanda rushed over, laughter bubbling up as she offered her hand to Natasha only for Natasha to grin mischievously and pull Wanda down beside her, both of them collapsing into the snow with laughter echoing around them.

After a while, breathless and cheeks tinged pink from the cold, they lay back in the snow, gazing up at the pale blue sky as they caught their breath. Natasha listened to the sound of Wanda's breathing beside her, feeling strangely at ease. She glanced over, taking in the peaceful expression on Wanda's face, her closed eyes and faint smile.

"I think they wore us out," Natasha murmured, an amused warmth in her voice.

Wanda's smile grew, her eyes still closed. "I think I'll let them take the blame," she replied softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment that Natasha couldn't remember hearing before.

Lila and Cooper shared a victorious grin, scrambling to their feet and running toward the house with eager cries of "Hot chocolate time!" Lila shot, already halfway to the door.

As Natasha and Wanda got up, brushing the snow from their coats, Natasha noticed the way Wanda's gaze lingered on her, her eyes shining with a rare, easy happiness. She looked back at Wanda, feeling a strange but undeniable closeness.

"Thanks for indulging them," Natasha said, her voice warm and genuine. "It's been… nice, seeing you like this."

Wanda's smile softened, her eyes meeting Natasha's for a long moment. "I think it's been nice for me, too."

They walked back to the house together, snow clinging to their coats and boots, the quiet warmth of the moment stretching between them.

As they stepped into the living room, Laura took one look at them and shook her head with a knowing smile. "Alright, go take a hot shower and change your clothes. All of you," she added, giving both Natasha and Wanda a firm look.

They followed the kids upstairs, exchanging a bemused glance as they headed to freshen up. By the time they gathered in the kitchen, Laura had laid out steaming mugs of hot cocoa with fluffy marshmallows on top, the room warmed by the crackling fire.

As the afternoon slipped into evening, Clint suggested a round of Christmas movies, and soon the living room was bathed in the soft glow of twinkling lights and the warm flicker of the fire. Natasha settled in, feeling Wanda close beside her, sharing this quiet, festive peace as the day faded into a cozy night.

(...)

Wanda settled in next to Natasha on the couch, her side pressed warmly against Natasha's. Cooper snuggled up on Natasha's other side, while Lila, still a bit drowsy from the day's excitement, climbed onto Natasha's lap, wrapping herself up in her arms with a soft yawn. Wanda watched, her gaze softening at the sight. There was a gentleness in Natasha's movements, a tenderness Wanda rarely saw so openly, one that seemed to emerge only with this family. 

On the other couch, Laura and Clint shared a quiet moment, with the baby nestled between them. Wanda's attention, however, remained fixed on Natasha. She felt something warm and deeply tender as she watched Natasha gently run her hand through Lila's hair, soothing her with a care that felt uncharacteristic but entirely genuine. It was as if each touch allowed Natasha to step into a peace that Wanda knew was rarely hers. 

After a moment, Wanda leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "You’re good with her, you know."

Natasha glanced over, caught off guard but pleased by the comment. "I guess she brings out a different side of me."

Wanda smiled, her expression gentle. "I think it's just you. The real you."

Natasha didn't respond with words, but the way her eyes held Wanda’s gaze for an extra beat was more than enough. It was a vulnerable silence that said everything, and when Natasha finally looked away, Wanda felt a pang of both gratitude and sadness. She realized how much Natasha kept hidden, even from herself.

As the movie played, Wanda's attention drifted, returning again and again to the sight of Natasha with Lila asleep in her lap. She saw something rare there, a quiet hope in Natasha's eyes, a contentment that was so precious it took Wanda's breath away. Wanda's heart raced as unexpected thoughts of a family - a real, lasting family - entered her mind, not just for herself, but with Natasha.

Her chest tightened as she remembered a night at the compound, sitting out on the lawn with Natasha under the stars. Natasha had shared parts of herself that night, things Wanda hadn't known before. Stories of her childhood, of Yelena, her younger sister, who she hadn't seen in years; of a song that haunted her because of what it reminded her of; and of the cruelty of the Red Room that had stolen her chance to ever have biological children. Wanda knew she could never erase those scars or the memories Natasha carried. But she wished, with everything in her, that she could show Natasha that it was still possible to have a family - that maybe, together, they could build one.

(...) 

The next morning, Natasha was jolted awake by a small whirlwind named Lila, who came barreling into the room she was sharing with Wanda, flinging herself right onto Natasha’s bed.

“Ouch,” Natasha groaned, her voice still thick with sleep. She wrapped an arm around Lila, pulling her down beside her. “Too early, kiddo.”

“Auntie Nat, we’re going to make gingerbread houses!” Lila’s excitement was infectious, and her eyes sparkled with it.

“Oh, God.” Natasha muttered, suddenly recalling all of Clint’s endless Christmas traditions. She had almost forgotten how many they packed into the days before Christmas.

“Come on, Auntie Nat. Mommy’s waiting!” Lila urged, tugging at her arm insistently.

Natasha sighed and finally blinked her eyes open, realizing there was no way she’d be able to coax a few more minutes of sleep. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” She pressed a quick kiss to Lila’s forehead before reluctantly getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

When she emerged, she noticed Lila had now cozied up in Wanda’s bed, eagerly chatting to her about gingerbread houses. Wanda’s gaze met Natasha’s, warm and amused, and Natasha offered a sheepish smile in return.

“Good morning, Nat,” Wanda greeted as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom.

“Morning.” Natasha felt her cheeks warm slightly. “Sorry about the... wake-up call,” she said, nodding toward Lila, who was watching them with open curiosity.

Wanda smiled, shrugging off the apology. “No problem.”

“Auntie Nat, come on!” Lila tugged insistently, and Natasha allowed herself to be pulled down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Once there, Laura greeted her with a guilty smile. “I swear I tried to hold her off for another hour.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Natasha assured her, stifling a yawn as she adjusted to the early hour.

“Here.” Clint appeared at her side, handing her a mug of steaming coffee. “Where’s Wanda? Still sleeping?”

“As if that was an option,” Natasha laughed, taking a grateful sip. She felt herself starting to wake up with each sip of the hot coffee.

A few minutes later, Wanda joined them, looking just as cozy and a little more awake. Natasha quickly poured her a mug of coffee, handing it to her with a smile. The kitchen was soon alive with the clattering of dishes and the laughter of kids, as they gathered the supplies to start their gingerbread creations.

While everyone else was busy assembling pieces and attempting not to eat half of the icing, Clint took charge of breakfast. The warm aroma of eggs, bacon, and pancakes mingled with the rich smell of coffee and fresh juice, filling the kitchen with a cozy warmth.

“Alright, construction break for breakfast!” Clint called, setting plates down and wiping his hands on a dish towel.

The kids practically inhaled the food, barely pausing to chew as they wolfed down their breakfast, eager to get back to their creations. Natasha exchanged an amused look with Laura as Clint went about clearing the table, and Laura quickly reset the gingerbread supplies so the kids could dive back in.

Natasha couldn’t help but glance at Wanda over the top of her coffee mug, catching her eye with a soft smile. It felt good to be here, in this warm little chaos, sharing these small moments - moments that felt almost like they belonged to a family. And as Wanda smiled back, Natasha felt a warmth that went deeper than the coffee she was holding.

Natasha and Wanda joined Laura and the kids at the table, where bowls of vibrant icing and candy decorations waited to be used. Natasha settled into the task, carefully piping a line of frosting along a gingerbread wall, but her attention kept drifting to Wanda, who was completely absorbed in her work. Wanda's brows furrowed in concentration as she placed gumdrops in precise rows, oblivious to everything else.

A small smirk tugged at Natasha’s lips. “You’re really into this,” she murmured, leaning in just enough to tease.

Wanda looked up, her cheeks instantly flushing, and Natasha's smirk softened into a grin.

After a while, the table became a delightful mess of scattered sugar, crumbs, and half-eaten gumdrops. Flour hung in the air like a soft cloud as the kids’ laughter echoed through the room. Lila proudly held up her sticky, icing-coated fingers, grinning from ear to ear. “Look, Auntie Nat! I made a mess!”

Natasha chuckled, gently ruffling Lila’s hair. “That’s the best part of it, kiddo.”

Laura’s laughter caught Natasha’s attention, and she glanced over, confused, only to see Laura motioning toward her own cheek. “Nat, you’ve got a little something…” Laura gestured vaguely at her own face.

Before Natasha could react, Wanda noticed it too and reached over instinctively, her thumb brushing softly against Natasha's cheek as she wiped the flour away. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary, and Natasha found herself frozen, her eyes meeting Wanda’s. Her gaze drifted to Wanda's lips, and for a moment, her breath stilled as they both seemed to forget the world around them.

“Uh… there,” Wanda murmured, her voice barely a whisper, her cheeks flushing as she finally pulled her hand away.

Just then, a shriek of laughter brought them back to reality. Natasha turned to see that Cooper and Lila had somehow managed to shower each other with a handful of flour, their hair now dusted white. Natasha let out a soft laugh, glancing back at Wanda with an amused smirk. “Looks like we’re going to have to clean up after these two troublemakers.”

“Oh, no, you two,” Laura cut in, her own laugh barely contained. “Clint, take your kids to the bath now. They’re done here.”

“Oh, so when they’re covered in flour, they’re my kids?” Clint shot back, shaking his head.

“Mom, we promise to behave!” Cooper added, pulling his best puppy-dog eyes.

Natasha chuckled as Laura shot her a knowing look. “I wonder who he learned that from,” Laura teased, aiming a pointed look at Natasha. “Alright, but if there’s one more mess, it’s over for both of you.”

Cooper and Lila exchanged triumphant high-fives and went back to decorating their gingerbread houses with renewed focus.

Laura shook her head, glancing at Clint. “Clint, dear, can you give Nathaniel his bottle?”

“On it.” He wiped his hands on his apron, going off to prepare the bottle.

The warmth of the moment lingered as they all continued decorating, laughter filling the air along with the sweet scent of gingerbread. Natasha couldn’t help but steal glances at Wanda every now and then, her heart softening at the way Wanda’s face lit up with laughter around the kids. For the first time in what felt like ages, Natasha felt… at peace. Something about this felt wonderfully right, and she couldn’t shake the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, she could belong have this too.

(...)

The rest of the day was peaceful, Cooper went to help Clint work on the tractor so he wouldn't end up getting into trouble because of the cold while Wanda and Natasha were dragged to the living room by Lila.

The little girl handed them some sheets of paper, colored pencils and crayons and with a pointed look indicated that they should sit next to her to draw.

Laura joined them soon after, gently rocking Nathaniel to sleep.

The hours passed quickly and in the early evening they sat at the table for dinner. Then, as in the previous days, they gathered in the living room for another classic Christmas movie.

Clint helped Laura carry the bowls of popcorn, mugs of hot chocolate and cider into the living room while Natasha and Wanda helped Lila and Cooper get the room just the way they liked it.

Cooper slurped his hot cocoa loudly, prompting a chorus of giggles from Lila and a roll of Clint's eyes. "Seriously, kid, where are your manners?"

"I learned them from you," Cooper shot back with a grin.

Wanda chuckled, her eyes meeting Natasha's for a second. She felt her heart race and her stomach felt like as if there was butterflies inside. She hadn't realized just how much she missed this feeling; being part of something whole, something good. She was so lost in thought that she nearly missed it when Natasha squeezed her hand, the smallest reassurance, and her eyes met Natasha's, catching that familiar glint of mischief in her gaze.

"Want to help me with a refill?" Natasha whispered, giving Wanda's hand a gentle tug as she rose.

"Sure." Wanda followed her into the kitchen, away from the cozy chaos of the living room. 

Once they were out of earshot, Natasha leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Are you okay? I thought you were a little overwhelmed just now." She said, her eyes studying Wanda with concern.

"I'm fine, Nat. Thanks for caring tho."

"Really? We can call it a night and go to the bedroom if you want."

"I do feel overwhelmed sometimes, yes, but in a... good way, I guess."

"Okay, let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

"Alright." 

Natasha held Wanda's gaze for longer than necessary.

"Is it weird that I never expected you to be so…" Wanda searched for the right word, one that would capture the side of Natasha she'd been witnessing those past days; soft, unguarded, even playful.

"Human?" Natasha offered, her smile crooked, playful but with an edge of vulnerability.

"Real," Wanda corrected softly. "I mean, ever since I arrived at the compound you've been amazing to me, always around, worried about me, and you've shared more things with me than I ever thought possible, but at the same time you've always remained a little distant, reserved. It’s nice to see this side of you."

Natasha felt her smirk dissolve into something softer, her expression turning reflective as she glanced down, weighing her words. “I didn’t think you’d want to see this side of me.” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet, a hint of uncertainty in it, as if she wasn’t used to admitting something so vulnerable aloud.

Wanda took a small step closer, and Natasha noticed the way her gaze softened, her own walls beginning to crumble. “Actually,” Wanda murmured, her voice steady yet gentle, “I think this is exactly what I needed to see.”

Natasha held Wanda’s gaze, feeling a tangible connection that had simmered for too long, something raw and undeniable surfacing between them. Away from missions and façades, it felt real here. For once, there was no armor, just them. The sounds of laughter drifting in from the living room barely registered in her mind; she wasn’t ready to let go of this moment yet.

She let out a soft laugh, one that felt vulnerable even to her own ears. “This might sound ridiculous, but… thanks for being here. I didn’t know if you’d actually come.”

“I almost didn’t,” Wanda admitted, her voice just above a whisper, an honest softness in her eyes. “But I’m glad I did.”

They stood there in the silence that followed, Natasha unable to resist lifting her hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear. The gesture was gentle, lingering in a way she hadn’t anticipated, as if savoring the tenderness of the moment. Her pulse raced at the touch, especially when Wanda’s eyes widened slightly, and Natasha felt a warmth spreading in her chest that had nothing to do with the cider.

But the spell was broken when the kitchen door swung open, and Clint waltzed in, oblivious to the tension he’d interrupted. “Hey, you two, you’re missing the best part! Santa’s about to-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing between them and scratching his chin. “Am I… interrupting something?”

Natasha cleared her throat, quickly dropping her hand, her laugh coming out just a bit too casual. “Nope, just… catching up.”

Wanda looked away, her cheeks flushed, clearly trying to hide the faint blush creeping up. Clint just grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Alright, then. Don’t take too long; we’ve got more popcorn waiting.” With a wink, he disappeared back into the living room.

Natasha huffed, shaking her head as she muttered, “He’s like a big kid sometimes.”

They filled their mugs with fresh cider and made their way back to the others. When they settled back onto the couch, Natasha found herself instinctively draping her arm over the back of the couch, her hand resting just behind Wanda’s shoulders—a gesture that felt casual, but in truth held an unspoken promise of protectiveness. Wanda leaned back slightly, just close enough that Natasha could feel her warmth, her pulse quickening at the sensation, and for once, Natasha let herself enjoy the comfort of their closeness.

As the movie drew to a close, Natasha watched as Laura smoothly began herding the kids toward bed, Lila putting up a sleepy protest. Natasha leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss on Lila’s forehead and speaking softly, “I’ll be here in the morning, okay? Go get some sleep.”

Once the kids were tucked in, Clint and Laura returned to the living room with the kind of satisfied sighs that come with a quiet, winding-down evening. The room had dimmed, leaving only the soft golden glow of the fire casting shadows across their faces.

“How’s training been, Wanda?” Laura asked, curiosity evident in her tone as she wrapped her hands around her mug. “Nat’s been saying you’re really getting the hang of things.”

Natasha felt warmth in her chest as Wanda glanced over at her, a little shy, as though gauging her reaction. “It’s… intense, but in a good way, I think,” Wanda replied thoughtfully. “I’m learning more about focus, and it’s been helping a lot.”

Natasha couldn’t hold back, giving Wanda’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “She’s being modest,” she chimed in, pride evident in her voice. “You’ve come a long way. Pretty soon, you’ll have Rogers eating your dust.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Really? That’s high praise coming from Romanoff.” He nodded at Wanda, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re tougher than you look, huh?”

Natasha watched Wanda chuckle, a quiet warmth filling her gaze as she took in Natasha’s words. “I have a good teacher. Besides, it’s nice to have something to work toward. Keeps me grounded,” she said with a confidence that had been growing steadily over the past weeks.

Laura’s expression softened as she looked at Wanda. “Well, it’s good to hear. And I have to say, you’ve seemed so much happier lately. I’d say it’s working for you.” She winked at Wanda before her gaze drifted to Natasha, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “I think Nat might have a little something to do with that too.”

Natasha could feel a slight blush warming her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes playfully. “Let’s not give me too much credit. Wanda’s the one putting in the work. I’m just… there when she needs a little push.”

“Oh, you’re there alright,” Clint teased, his eyes glinting with amusement as he shared a look with Laura. “Can’t say I’ve seen you this dedicated to ‘pushing’ someone, Nat.”

Natasha chuckled, relaxing into the gentle teasing as Wanda turned to her with a playful glint in her eyes. “To be fair, you’re a pretty great ‘pusher,’” Wanda teased, nudging Natasha’s shoulder lightly.

“Well,” Natasha replied, letting out a soft laugh, “if I’m going to be a pusher, might as well be the best, right?” She held Wanda’s gaze, her smile turning softer, her voice lowering. “But you make it easy.”

The glow of the fire reflected in Wanda’s eyes, and Natasha found herself lost in their warmth until Clint cleared his throat with exaggerated volume. “Alright, lovebirds,” he said, grinning. “Are we just going to sit here staring into each other’s eyes, or can I get someone to help me with the marshmallows for s’mores?”

Laura laughed, swatting him playfully. “Way to kill the vibe, Clint. But yes, let’s do s’mores.”

Natasha watched Wanda grin as she rose, her eyes dancing. “I’ll help you grab the marshmallows, Clint. Natasha, you coming?”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, smirking up at Wanda with an affectionate, mischievous smile. “I’ll be right here, keeping your seat warm. Don’t take too long.”

She caught the slight flush of Wanda’s cheeks and the smile they shared before Wanda headed to the kitchen with Clint, their laughter trailing into the next room. Natasha couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in her chest at the sound.

Laura shook her head, a fond smile on her face as she watched them go before she turned to Natasha, eyes full of quiet understanding. “You know,” she began softly, “you and Wanda… you make sense together.”

Natasha felt her breath hitch, her gaze drifting to the kitchen where Wanda’s laughter still echoed. “We’re not… we’re not—”

“Nat,” Laura said gently, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But I’ve seen the way you look at each other. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone.”

Natasha swallowed, feeling a confession clawing its way to the surface, something she’d tried to suppress. “It’s stupid, Laura. Letting my guard down like this… but I can’t help it with her.”

Laura’s voice was soft, reassuring. “It’s not stupid, Nat.”

“But you know my past.” Natasha’s voice was barely a whisper. “There’s no way I could ever have something… normal.”

“Good thing Wanda’s far from normal, isn’t she?” Laura said with a gentle smile, her eyes warm with understanding.

Natasha shook her head, her voice strained. “It wouldn’t work.”

Laura sighed, giving Natasha a knowing, patient look. “Just… think about it, okay?”

(...)

As the others drifted off to bed, Natasha stayed behind, lingering in the quiet with Wanda beside her. Their shoulders brushed as they sat on the couch, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows over the room. Natasha could feel the heat radiating from Wanda’s hand, resting so close to hers, close enough that the small distance between them felt charged.

Without fully deciding to, Natasha found herself leaning closer. The weight of everything unspoken, everything she’d tried to ignore, pressed heavily on her chest. She could feel the warmth of Wanda’s presence, the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing.

"Wanda," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper, the word heavy with so much she didn’t know how to express. "You… you make me feel—" She faltered, uncertain. No words felt right, no way to truly say what was pounding in her chest.

But Wanda’s eyes softened, her gaze unwavering, silently urging Natasha to let down the last of her walls. It was an invitation, one that Natasha didn’t realize she’d been waiting for until she was already leaning in. Before doubt could take over, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Wanda’s in a gentle brush. But that initial softness, that tentative touch, was quickly replaced by a heat Natasha could no longer deny.

Wanda responded without hesitation, her hand sliding up to Natasha’s cheek, her thumb tracing a slow, steady path along her jaw. That small gesture undid her completely, and Natasha felt herself deepen the kiss, a barely controlled need taking over as their lips moved in sync, more intense, more consuming than she’d imagined. The fire crackled beside them, but it was nothing compared to the heat that spread through her body, lighting up every nerve, every cell.

It was everything Natasha had wanted and everything she’d been afraid of—a connection that was raw, fierce, and unguarded. Wanda’s hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, her fingers threading through Natasha’s hair, and the intensity of it, the sheer honesty of what she was feeling, made something inside Natasha twist.

Abruptly, she pulled back, breaking the kiss with a shuddering breath. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her heart hammering against her ribcage, a familiar panic clawing its way to the surface. She felt like she was splintering apart, the weight of her past pressing down on her, reminding her of all the reasons she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be feeling this.

“Nat?” Wanda’s voice was soft, laced with concern and something deeper that Natasha wasn’t sure she could handle. That depth, that vulnerability, only made the fear sharper.

“I- I can’t,” Natasha managed, her voice shaky and barely audible. She pushed herself to her feet, running a hand through her hair in a desperate attempt to steady herself. She could feel everything slipping out of her control, every carefully built wall crumbling. The memories, the training, the missions - all the years she’d spent pushing people away came crashing back, louder and more insistent.

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” she said, each word a painful effort. “I don’t… I don’t do relationships.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the sting in her chest, the realization that she was hurting Wanda. But the fear was overwhelming, a tidal wave of everything she’d tried to bury for so long, and it left her no room to think, no space to breathe.

Without another word, Natasha turned and hurried to the door, her footsteps heavy in the silence of the house. She didn’t dare look back, didn’t want to see the hurt in Wanda’s eyes. All she could do was escape, feeling the memories clawing at her, threatening to pull her under as she stepped out into the cold night, her heart pounding and her mind reeling.

Just as Natasha’s fingers brushed her coat, Clint’s voice cut through her resolve. “Nat.”

She froze, feeling her heartbeat thundering in her chest. Clint stood in the doorway, his gaze unwavering, the look in his eyes both gentle and firm. 

“You’re really going to walk away from this?” he asked quietly, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight. He stepped closer, his face a mix of understanding and expectation. “You know, you’re not the only one with a past, Nat. Wanda’s been through hell too. But here she is, willing to take a chance on you.”

Natasha swallowed, her throat tight as she processed his words. “I don’t want to hurt her, Clint,” she whispered, her voice raw with honesty. “I don’t even know if I can be what she needs.”

Clint’s expression softened, his eyes full of warmth that only a best friend could carry. “You don’t have to be perfect, Nat. Wanda doesn’t need you to be anything other than yourself. And from where I’m standing, that’s more than enough.”

She looked down, her mind a storm of doubts, but Clint’s words seemed to ground her. She realized, with a painful clarity, that maybe - just maybe - she did deserve this. Deserved Wanda. Her jaw tightened as she absorbed his words, feeling memories surface in her mind, fragments of her past - years of survival, of running, of pushing everyone away so she wouldn’t have to face her own heartache. The idea that someone could see her past and still care for her, still want her, felt foreign, but here was Wanda, offering her something she hadn’t dared to hope for.

Clint’s hand settled on her shoulder, the weight both comforting and firm. “Talk to her,” he urged. “You don’t have to have all the answers. Just… talk to her.”

Natasha stood by the door, Clint’s words lingering in the quiet, a steadying force as she considered what she was about to leave behind. She had always run, always turned her back on anything that felt like home. But standing here, with Clint’s words echoing in her mind, she realized that running hadn’t kept her safe - it had only left her alone. Wanda had opened her heart to her, despite everything she’d been through, and it was courage Natasha hadn’t seen in anyone before. It was time, maybe, to stop letting her fear control her.

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she let her hand fall away from her coat. Clint gave her an encouraging nod, the quiet support of a friend who had known her through it all. She nodded back, a silent acknowledgment, and without another word, turned toward the room she was sharing with Wanda, a newfound determination guiding her steps.

As Natasha approached the doorway, she found Wanda still there, her gaze fixed on the dimming embers of the fire, her expression difficult to read but so achingly familiar. The warm light danced across her face, illuminating that quiet strength, that gentleness that Natasha couldn’t resist.

“Wanda,” Natasha said softly, her voice raspy and filled with vulnerability she didn’t recognize.

Wanda turned, her eyes catching Natasha’s, reflecting both vulnerability and hope. It was a look Natasha had come to cherish, one that made her realize just how deeply she was in this. How far gone she was already.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I… I’ve spent so long keeping people at a distance. But you…” She swallowed, feeling her own defenses crack. “You’re the first person I can’t seem to push away, no matter how hard I try. And that scares me. Letting someone in like this… it’s not something I know how to do.”

Wanda took a step forward, closing the distance with that unwavering gaze. “Then don’t,” she murmured, her voice warm and soft, coaxing Natasha closer. “Let me in, Natasha. I know you’re scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.” She raised a hand, cupping Natasha’s cheek, her touch featherlight but grounding.

The tenderness in Wanda’s eyes, in her touch, undid Natasha entirely. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, the walls she’d held for so long dissolving in the warmth of Wanda’s touch. Her fingers trembled as she reached up, holding Wanda’s hand as if it was the lifeline she hadn’t known she’d needed. “I’m scared, Wanda,” she admitted, her voice breaking, barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of letting myself love you, and even more of losing you. Everyone I let in either dies or disappears. I can’t…”

Wanda’s grip on her hand tightened, a quiet promise in that simple touch. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her thumb stroked softly over Natasha’s knuckles, grounding her. “You don’t have to be perfect, Nat. I don’t need you to be anything other than right here, with me.”

Natasha exhaled slowly, relief washing over her as her fingers laced through Wanda’s, feeling as if they’d always belonged there. “I’m done running,” she murmured, her voice quiet but resolute.

Their eyes met, and in that gaze, Natasha found all the courage she’d never been able to find within herself. Slowly, she leaned in, closing the distance, capturing Wanda’s lips in a kiss that held all her fears, all her hopes, and every unspoken promise between them. This kiss was different. It was deeper, free of hesitation, her emotions pouring into each movement, each second. Natasha’s hand found its way into Wanda’s hair, pulling her close, her need fierce, unapologetic. Wanda’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her in as if she, too, had been waiting for this, for them, for so long.

The kiss intensified, Natasha pouring herself into it, letting her guard drop completely, allowing herself to be vulnerable in Wanda’s arms. Her fingers twisted deeper into Wanda’s hair, and Wanda’s hand trailed up her arm, soft but firm, grounding her. Natasha felt as if she was coming alive, like every part of her had woken up, drawn into Wanda’s warmth, her steadiness. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they held each other close.

Natasha looked into Wanda’s eyes, her heart pounding, and saw the same fire, the same need that mirrored her own. Unable to resist, she cupped Wanda’s face, bringing her in for another kiss, more intense, almost desperate, as months of unspoken tension gave way. It was an ache she could feel in her chest, a need she hadn’t let herself feel for so long, and she surrendered to it completely.

As Natasha looked into Wanda’s eyes, she saw that same fire, that same unrestrained desire, mirroring her own. The weight of everything they'd held back, the longing, the fear, and the inevitability, all of it seemed to rise to the surface. Without a second thought, she pulled Wanda in, capturing her lips in a kiss that went beyond tenderness, beyond anything she had ever let herself feel.

This kiss was no longer tentative or questioning; it was a fierce, consuming need, her hands finding Wanda's waist and pulling her closer, as if she needed her as much as she needed air. Wanda responded in kind, her fingers slipping into Natasha's hair, tugging her closer as their lips moved together in perfect sync, every touch feeling like fire running through her veins, something primal. Natasha could feel her heart pounding and she was pretty sure Wanda could hear it too.

Their movements grew frantic, both of them losing themselves in the moment. Natasha could feel Wanda’s soft gasp against her lips as her hands roamed Wanda’s back, gripping the fabric of her shirt, anchoring herself in this moment. They stumbled slightly as they edged toward the bed, neither willing to break the kiss, not even for a second. Natasha barely registered the feel of the mattress at the back of her knees before they tumbled down together, Wanda's soft laugh breaking through, only for Natasha to capture it with another kiss, deeper, more unrestrained.

Their limbs tangled, hands exploring as they gave into the intensity they had held back for so long. Natasha ran her fingers through Wanda’s hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, feeling Wanda’s warmth, the way her body pressed against hers. She could feel Wanda’s heartbeat, as frantic as her own, their breaths mingling as they finally gave in, letting the world fall away.

Wanda's hands skimmed Natasha’s shoulders, tracing a path down her arms, her touch gentle but charged with electric energy, sending shivers through her. Natasha couldn’t hold back a soft, involuntary gasp as Wanda’s lips found her neck, trailing heat along her skin, igniting something deeper, hungrier. She pulled Wanda even closer, their bodies pressing together as they moved in sync, both of them surrendering completely to the moment, to each other, letting themselves finally fall into what had been waiting for so long. 

When they finally parted again, Natasha held Wanda close, her forehead resting against hers as she caught her breath. Wanda traced gentle, reassuring patterns along her arm, anchoring her.

“So…” Wanda whispered, her voice tinged with that same vulnerability Natasha knew was on her own. “We’re really doing this?”

Natasha nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “We’re doing this. I mean, unless you don’t want it, which is totally okay.”

“Natasha.” 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

Natasha felt her heart race, every part of her body vibrating with the determination in Wanda's voice. In her entire life, it was the first time she had gone to bed with someone not because of some stupid mission, but because she really wanted to, because she felt something for the person who was with her at that moment. And that scared Natasha more than she could admit. She closed her eyes tightly, pushing those thoughts away and focusing on the feeling of Wanda's lips against hers, on the way her hands slid tentatively over her shoulders and arms until they reached her waist and even more tentatively, slid under her blouse, gently brushing her skin. 

Her touch was warm and intoxicating and Natasha couldn't contain a moan when Wanda's lips found the skin of her neck again, biting lightly. Her hips rocked involuntarily against Wanda's, who was sitting on her lap, one leg on either side of her. Natasha abandoned all caution at that moment and slid her hands under the sweater Wanda was wearing, lightly scratching her back. She smiled in satisfaction at the moan that escaped Wanda's lips and did it again, gasping when Wanda ground her hips against hers.

"Fuck." Natasha moaned as Wanda bit and then licked her pulse point.

"I think that's what we're about to do, huh?"

"Oh, God." Natasha felt her panties get even wetter at the sound of Wanda's voice, husky and full of desire.

"Wanda will be enough."

Natasha's eyes met Wanda's and in them was a silent plea. Nat nodded, and lifted herself just enough for Wanda to remove her shirt. She was always very confident about her body, but when she saw Wanda's gaze, so raw, so intense and filled with true desire mixed with something else, Natasha felt her cheeks burn.

"You're so beautiful." Wanda whispered and leaned in to kiss her again. 

Natasha moaned softly against Wanda's lips as her hands explored her exposed skin tentatively but determinedly. It was almost impossible to keep her moans down, but she knew they couldn't make too much noise, for the sake of the children in the same hallway as them. 

Natasha bit the back of her hand hard to suppress a moan as Wanda's lips reached her breast. She had never experienced anything like this, a desire so intense, so true, so raw. And she needed to feel Wanda's skin against hers.

Natasha slid her hands to the hem of Wanda's sweater and with a silent request removed the garment. She took a moment to appreciate Wanda's beauty, feeling her mouth water at the sight that graced her eyes. Tentatively she slid her hands down Wanda's belly to her breasts, squeezing gently.

A low moan escaped Wanda's lips, and Natasha rose, kissing her with a desire she never thought possible. With a quick movement Natasha reversed their position and wasted no time began to distribute kisses along Wanda's jaw and neck, until she reached her breasts.

"So beautiful." Natasha whispered and her eyes met Wanda's again, with another silent request.

When she nodded, Natasha got rid of their jeans, and along with them their panties, eliminating any barrier between them. They moaned into each other's lips as their bodies touched for the first time, hips rocking against each other in a desperate search for contact, for friction.

Natasha slid one leg between Wanda's and nearly came right then and there at how wet she was. "Fuck, Wands."

"I need-" Wanda swallowed, her hips jerking.

"What do you need?" Natasha teased, rocking her hips slowly against Wanda's wet pussy.

"I need you, Nat."

That was enough to get Natasha moving, another time she would tease Wanda to the limit, but she needed it just as much and didn't want to waste time with games. Hopefully they would have plenty of other opportunities for that.

Gently, Natasha slid a finger inside Wanda, both of them moaning at the sensation. She began to move her finger slowly, and when she felt that Wanda was comfortable enough, she slid another one in. A louder moan escaped Wanda's lips and Natasha swallowed it with a kiss.

She moaned against Wanda's lips when she felt her slide a finger inside her and Natasha never thought it was possible to feel so much pleasure. Not really, and it was embarrassing how close she was to cumming.

Soon they found the perfect rhythm and their moans were muffled by the intense kisses as their bodies moved in perfect synchrony. It didn't take long for them to cum together, and that was, without a doubt, one of the best sensations Natasha had ever felt in her life.

As they lay together, Natasha realized she had never felt so vulnerable yet so completely safe, wrapped in the warmth of Wanda's touch, her hands on her skin, her breath brushing softly against her neck. It was as if every unspoken fear, every moment of hesitation, had melted away, leaving only the trust and certainty that whatever happened, they were here, together, completely lost in each other.

And as the night stretched on, Natasha allowed herself to fully surrender to the moment, letting go of every doubt and opening herself to Wanda in a way she never had with anyone else, trusting her completely, feeling the depth of their connection, and knowing that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

In that small, fire-lit room, wrapped in Wanda’s arms, Natasha felt a warmth and belonging she hadn’t thought possible. The rest of the world faded away as she let herself be completely, irrevocably lost in Wanda.

[idyllic-affections]

platonic requests you say?! well,, how about xiao or scaramouche (or both hehe but just do whichever one you’re more inspired for!) with a child reader that’s kinda like a little sibling figure for them, who just follows them around aimlessly & doesn’t listen when they’re told to go away until Big Brother Figure has to accept that they just have this Stray Child attached to them now?! thank you if you decide to do this!! <3

what's with this sassy, lost child?

summary. scaramouche is not a good person.

trigger & content warnings. implied child abuse and canon-typical scara lore.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family, fluff, alight angst (?). scaramouche & child!reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. the title is funny; the brainrot is... less funny.... anyways, anon i love this idea! i ended up only doing scara as i had a lot of trouble with getting ideas for xiao's part? its weird since i really like xiao but i had no inspiration for him. additionally, i only wrote about fatui!scara rather than wanderer!scara. if you ever want a wanderer!scara version of this, just shoot me another request and ill be happy to do it <3 this ended up being kind of similar to a character study, which i find super interesting actually. it wasn't meant to be like that but i think its kinda cool c:

scaramouche is not a good person.

he has no issue admitting to this—he is cruel, violent, and temperamental and has no qualms with resorting to methods equally so to get what he wants. despite this... he will not commit crimes against children. that is one thing il dottore, the man very much responsible for his present state of mind, does that he won't.

the balladeer will never be caught dead being the one to take away a child's innocence and hope.

a child's innocence is unlike that of any other. it is fragile and delicate and something to be protected rather than battered and bruised. he didn't get to bask in his own innocence for very long; his view of the world around him began to skew towards darkness the moment ei threw him out as if he was nothing more than a doll that lost its novelty. he knew all too well what it felt like to be thrown away.

maybe that's why he kept them around.

"what are you doing?" he demands, turning to the kid he begrudgingly settled on keeping around. it was mostly just to spite the ignorant fatui agent that had tried to assault them after finding them lost in a research camp. it... definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he saw himself in them, that he saw kunikuzushi staring back at him when he looked down at them. not at all. definitely not, because empathy was something the balladeer absolutely did not have the capacity for.

(deep down, he knows he's only lying to himself. number six was once so gentle and kind and curious. he wasn't always this way.

regardless of how he feels about it, kunikuzushi will always be a part of him.)

"it's raining," is all they say in reply, scooting closer to the harbinger. he shoves them away with gentleness unheard of from someone like him, and they whine, adding on, "it's not even warm rain. it's cold."

"freeze, then."

their lower lip juts out into an intentionally overdramatic pout at that. "big brother's so mean to me..."

he glares down at them.

he does not, however, offer any opposition other than a soft scoff when they scoot back under his hat.

scaramouche's sharp glare redirects to a fatuus that stared at them a little too long as he rests a hand on their head, calloused fingertips rubbing little circles into their damp scalp. they seem happy with the contact—happy enough not to notice the way their guardian's eyes narrow further at the foolish, unmoving agent. it's a warning, an unspoken threat, a promise of a fate worse than death if his underling does not back off. the fatui agent seems to understand well enough, scurrying to get back to work.

the balladeer's hands are drenched in an inconceivable amount of blood and tears that no amount of rain will wash away—some belonging to him, but the majority belonging to his victims. he fears that the crimson will spread onto them like some kind of disease, consuming whatever innocence they have that he's tried so hard to preserve. the worst part is that he knows his fear isn't irrational. even a worm will turn.

number six of the fatui harbingers does not remember what it means to be gentle, but for them...

he's willing to try.

he's desperate to try.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[ddejavvu]

idk if you’ve been asked this before but what are your thoughts on reid lashing out at jj about the whole emily thing in season 7?

my thoughts are that it's too complicated to say i'm on either one's side </3

JJ fucking pissed me off with the later Jeid storyline but I liked her at the beginning of the show -> onwards until p much right there, so I tried not to let that letdown influence my retrospective on the s7 situation.

JJ was following highly classified, highly important government orders. Her boss told her to keep her mouth shut for safety reasons, and as someone who's seen countless friends and family members suffer because intel got loose, I can understand why she'd adhere so firmly to the guidelines. She was a good agent.

However, Reid requires stability and consistency in his environment, as he is at a high risk for slipping back into his addiction + developing symptoms of his mother's illness (which, if i remember correctly, were teased but never actually confirmed in him. My point is, he's an at-risk individual who was thrown into grief). I can completely understand how finding out that the shoulder you cried on for months and months and months was actually lying to you about the source of your grief would make someone angry. I actually think he deserved to be angry, he had the right to be angry, but then things become muddled when you ask me if i think he had the right to be angry at JJ.

Personally, I think I'd initially feel very betrayed if I were Spencer, even if i worked it out later. But again, JJ was following orders to keep Emily alive, and if she had confessed and compromised the undercover operation, Emily would have been killed.

I think, in the actual scene, JJ had absolutely no right to tell him that if he was a better profiler, he'd have been able to figure things out. I thought it was a really low blow for her, especially knowing that he'd been so devastated over his friend's 'death'. I understand that his anger caught her off guard, and she felt unjustly blamed, and I might have been upset or torn too in her position. But the way that she handled it was highly unprofessional and something a petty teenager would say and then reluctantly apologize for once they discover their actions have consequences.

I think that Reid basically pouting during work hours and letting his personal feelings affect his work (y'know, saving lives) was also highly unprofessional. However, the issue was that the entire situation revolved around his work in the first place, and Emily just like slipped right back in?? so he had zero time to process anything and I don't know if I'd be able to separate my feelings from my job either.

I don't blame Spencer for not feeling like he could trust JJ/his team after that, at least not as deeply as he used to. I don't blame JJ for feeling hurt that Spencer took his anger out on her rather than the general situation/even Hotch who gave JJ the orders, and told Spencer he was responsible for it.

it bothers me when Spencer stans will demonize JJ for it while refusing to acknowledge Spencer's missteps, and it pisses me off when JJ likers use it to call Reid a petty toddler without considering his feelings on the matter. All in all, it was a complicated, messy situation with no completely right or wrong side, in my opinion.

[mangoguy]

Displacement (2/2)

John "Soap" MacTavish('09) x Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish('22)

Warnings: Mentions of character death (Ghost and Roach), no y/n used, no pronouns other than they/them used a few of times.

You can't help but find it difficult to get used to your new surroundings.

_

It's finally here!!! I meant for this to be out a week after the first part, but school got busy lmao

Read the first part here

There are a few things you have noticed after being thrown in here.

One, the year is 2023.

Two, You are married to John (or Johnny as he likes being called) in this timeline.

And three, you don’t work in the military, you are no longer with Task Force 141.

That third one hit particularly hard. Your task force was a huge part of your life along with John.

You faked memory loss, thinking it was a smart move for now. You doubted they would even believe you if you started spouting that you were not from here. Even to you, that sounded crazy.

‘Because it is…’ you thought bitterly.

This universe wasn't in World War III, you weren't complaining though, that was the mission after all. You still had a hard time adjusting, especially with him around, Johnny. The man who wears your husband's face. Well, you guessed you're even… since technically you were wearing his wife's face? That's how you saw it anyway.

He was worried about you, often asking if you were okay. You could never really answer him, just stare and nod. You felt so foreign here, out of place, and you missed John so much it made you ill. You wondered what happened to him? Was he okay? Something told you he wasn’t. With where your mind was going this was going to be a long hospital stay…

It's been two months since you've woken up. Your mind convinced you it was some weird coma dream.

‘People have those, don't they?’ You thought, staring out the living room window. You felt silly mourning the loss of some older version of yourself and Johnny. It was morbid of your brain to think of how Ghost would die, or mourn the loss of two others you ‘barely knew.’ You found it funny how Price looked in your dream, older, a little unhinged. Gaz was what scared you the most in terms of dream Gaz, you didn't want to think about it.

You met them briefly, Task Force 141, Johnny's teammates, and friends. They all seemed very concerned about you, maybe even a little guilty like they caused the accident. You assured them you were fine and mentioned that the doctors said you were healing quite nicely.

“Aye, but they… have memory loss, can't remember a damn thing… the doctor said it looks severe,” Johnny spoke in a hushed whisper when you went off to fetch something.

“They can't remember anything?” Kyle spoke.

“Yeah, and I'm talkin’ like their whole life, it's like they're a new person… Can't even remember our weddin’ day, our first meetin’, or… anythin’” Johnny could feel his heartbreak just speaking it out loud. A painful reminder of what happened, he thought maybe someone was punishing him. Probably was, for the things he's done. He gave a deep sigh, as Kyle gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Price and Simon both frowned, giving the Scot a sympathetic look, that's when you decided to enter the room again.

“Bonnie yer… are ye okay? Ye've been starin’ out the window for a while…” you heard Johnny speak softly. You turned to look at him, nodding your head softly.

“Yeah sorry, just… I guess I'm reminiscing on some weird dream I had while in that coma,” you admitted.

“Hm? Dream ye say? Do ye want tae talk about it?” John sat near you on the couch and pulled you into his arms. It was comforting being in his embrace.

“Hm, not much to say other than… I guess I just dreamt of a whole other life for us? You were there, though you were a bit older… definitely more handsome in my dream,” you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Looks like I've got some competition,” he paused to chuckle softly. “But older you say? Were ye dreaming of tae future or somethin’?” Johnny asked.

“Hm, you could say that… though there are differences in dream John and you in real life.”

“Aye… and what's that?”

“Well for one he was a bit taller than you,” you snickered.

“Aye!”

“And well he didn't have an arm tattoo, like you do he had one on his neck, a revolver,” you paused to think, your mind was getting a little muddy on details.

“Oh! And your scars are different, that's all I seem to remember at the moment...” you finished. Johnny was silent for a moment, absorbing this new information. It was nice hearing you talk again, even if it was about this mysterious other version of himself.

“Damn, sounds like one handsome bastard…”

“Johnny…”

“What I'm bein’ serious,” he muses.

Something weird was going on, you couldn't place your finger on it. It all started with a pair of jeans. What scared you was that you vaguely recalled wearing them somewhere. You placed them down on the floor and stared at them.

‘Of course, I wore them somewhere they're pants…’ You thought, thinking it was silly you were worried about jeans. You shook your head, grabbing them off the floor but that's when something slipped out from the pocket. One fell with a hard thunk and the other fluttered to the ground. You pick them both up. One was a simple wedding band on it was an engraving, two sets of dates

xx-xx-‘07

xx-xx-‘09

The other item made your heart drop in your stomach. Time seemed to stop as familiar sets of eyes were on you. John Price, Ghost, John “Soap” MacTavish, you. In the corner of the photo were the words ‘OP Kingfish.’

This was it.

The evidence that your ‘coma dream’ wasn't a dream after all. How could you think it was a dream? How dare this world make you think your John was a dream, your world. You assumed it was the universe trying to make you ‘fit in,’ but that begs the question, how did your stuff get here? You shoved the ring and photo in your pocket as you heard Johnny walking over to where you were.

“Hey Bonnie, are you almost done gettin’ ready? Simon texted saying he was at the bar already,” Johnny watched you as you put the jeans back in the closet.

“Yeah I'm ready, can't keep the man waiting,” you smiled though it didn't reach your eyes.

While watching Ghost and Johnny converse you felt the ring and photo through your pocket for the tenth time. You worried they would disappear and yet they never did. You stood up from your seat, getting the attention of the two men at the table.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” you spoke, walking towards the small hallway that housed the restrooms. You entered, taking a quick breather, your emotions were everywhere tonight. It was starting to annoy you, if you were being honest all you wanted was to just relax and enjoy the evening…

Even it felt fake.

Doing your business and leaving the bathroom, you noticed Johnny had a conflicting look. But when you approached he smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sat down.

“Everything okay?” You asked and he nodded, though you noticed it was stiff.

You ended up drinking, not a lot but enough to get a bit tipsy. You barely remember the car ride home, though here you are, in bed and snuggled into the blankets. You were reaching out towards Johnny’s spot but found he was not on his side of the bed. It’s cold, meaning he was gone for a while. You slowly sat up, groaning from a slight headache. You called out for him but didn’t hear an answer. You got out of bed and walked towards the living room, spotting him sitting on the couch with the table lamp on. He was staring at something, upon closer look it was the photo, your photo with your team. Your John.

You blinked once, then twice.

When did he get that?

Shit.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked, slightly on the defence.

“What am I doin’ with it? What are ye doing with this? What am I even lookin’ at?” He asked, looking over at you his expression inconceivable.

“It's… complicated Johnny, you probably wouldn't understand.”

He went quiet after that, rubbing his face in frustration, he then stared at the photo again. You needed to figure out where to go from here. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought.

“So, are ye from the future or somethin? Because that's what it looks like… we all look older in this photo… Plus why the hell are you in this photo anyway?” Johnny spoke up finally after a long silence.

“No… it's complicated…”

“Then enlighten me!” You could hear him getting frustrated.

“Fine… I'm… not from here, I don't know how to explain it! One moment I was someplace else then the next thing I know I'm here, in Scotland… In a hospital with someone who looks like my husband but isn't!” you didn't mean to sound so harsh, but all your feelings were bursting out.

“But I am yer husband, didn't you tell me ye were dreamin’ while in that coma?” Johnny tried reasoning.

“I lied, at first I thought maybe it was all a dream but how do you explain the photo and this? I know for a fact I wasn't dreaming I had a completely different life,” You pulled out the ring, showing him the engraved dates.

He stared at the ring, at the dates that were engraved then at the photo. He seemed a bit distant, thinking, processing.

“Is that why whenever I look at ye… It feels like I've lost someone… lost my Bonnie,” Johnny lamented. You were caught off guard by that. But you couldn't deny that you also felt a huge loss whenever you thought of John. The two of you stayed silent, grieving but didn't want to think about why. You refused to think your John didn't survive that explosion.

“I… guess you could say I'm from an alternate universe, god… that's even more confusing but makes the most sense” you decided to change the subject. Johnny finally looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Aye… that sounds crazy… maybe-” he didn't finish his sentence but you knew he was probably still trying to find a reasonable answer. You couldn't blame him and this is exactly the reason you didn't bring it up. You decided to take a different approach.

“That photo was taken on a joint mission with Task Force 141 and Delta force, we were going after this guy named Vladimir Makarov, Intel claimed he was in this facility in Ukraine but he wasn't and it ended up being a trap… That's when John or my Soap, I guess I should say, got injured and Price was captured,” you explained. You were starting to sweat a bit, speaking that mission out loud sounded insane. It sure did catch Johnny's attention though. A dark look crossed his face at the mention of Vladimir Makarov but it quickly faded.

“Huh…” was all Johnny managed to get out, it was a hell of a story. You could tell he needed more convincing.

“Well, one person in that photograph isn't alive… Ghost, along with another member Roach were shot by a man named Shepherd…” Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned deeply.

“Betrayed by him and his shadow company…” you seethed. That seemed to make Johnny perk up. From the looks of it, that story of yours seemed to hit a little too close to home. He gave you a thoughtful look albeit a concerned look.

“Well, shite… that just all but confirms your theory… But the question remains why are ye here? And how come yer body in yer time stayed there?”

“I don't know… it's not like I have the answers. I was literally on a mission to assassinate Makarov but then an explosion went off behind us and I ended up in that hospital.” You explained.

“Ye know… that sounds similar to what happened to my spouse, well they didn't work in the military but there was an accident that involved both me and them, they ended up taking most of the damage which is why they put you in a coma… but you already knew that,” he mumbled that last part.

“I wonder if that's related… but that still doesn't explain why I'm here…” You crossed your arms, sitting opposite from him on the couch. You stared at your reflection on the TV for a moment, observing your new skin, you often didn't look at yourself for too long. You found it troublesome and dare you say uncanny.

This whole situation was confusing, but you found some comfort now that Johnny knew and seemed to believe you. You did grow fond of him over the couple of months you've been here. It was slow, sure, unfairly comparing him to your John but you quickly came to realize that although they might share the same name and hair- they were different. That also made you realize something else though, something unpleasant.

"Johnny… I understand if you want me to leave, I am technically wearing your spouse's face..." you suddenly spoke. Johnny turned to look at you with a bewildered look on his face, silently asking if you were for real.

“That's a way to put it…” he mumbled with a long pause before speaking again, "...But I don't want you to leave."

"...Why?" It was your turn to be bewildered now.

"Well, is it bad I still want to be with ye? I know you aren't the version of my Bonnie I married but... you're still you whether you're fighting in the big fight or here making the house a home... I loved you in both timelines,” he suddenly proclaimed, bringing a hand over to caress your cheek. There was hope that maybe this could work.

That couldn't be a bad idea.

The universe brought the two of you together for a reason.

Words: 2,337

[kcwriter-blog]

Choice. Consequence. Blame.

Choice. Consequence. Blame. When I think about these concepts, I think about Solas and the blame he incurs for the choices he made. How do you apportion blame? How far back in time do we go? Those are interesting questions to me. My somewhat disorganized answers are under the cut. 

The concept of blame is universal. Someone makes a choice. That choice has consequences. If the outcome is good, the person is lauded. If the outcome is bad, the person is vilified. Context — the reasons why the person had to make that choice in the first place — is thrown out the window. 

How does this relate to Solas? Just about everyone agrees that his choice to create the Veil was responsible for what happened to the elves — even Solas. He is to blame. It’s a simplistic view. Choices are not made in a vacuum. 

What motivated Solas? He tells us. The Evanuris became corrupt. They lusted after power. They killed Mythal. We don’t know much beyond that, but we can theorize that Mythal was keeping the others in check. With her gone, they could pursue their own agenda. That would have destroyed the world.

Solas had to make a choice. He could do nothing, or he could do something. He chose to do something. 

Many people feel that Solas should have found an alternative to forming the Veil. That he didn’t look hard enough. Basically, he threw a temper tantrum over Mythal’s death and thoughtlessly did something he now regrets. Except that isn’t what happened.

Solas has a temper. We see that when he flambés the mages who killed Wisdom. He can be impulsive. We see that in his romance.

What people forget is that he is always able to master himself. It takes one word to keep him from roasting the mages. He doesn’t like it, but he does it.

In his romance he always stops himself before things can go too far. He didn’t create the Veil in a day. There was plenty of time for him to cool off. 

Solas tells us he considered alternatives. We don’t know what they were. We just know the consequences of those solutions were so dire, he chose to lock away his favorite place in the world — the Fade — instead. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap. 

Sometimes there are no good choices. Solas chose the best solution he could, given the information he had. The consequences? Bad.

Does that mean Solas should be the scapegoat? Is he 100 percent to blame for what happened to the elves?

I would argue no. What he did caused the elves to fight amongst themselves. It meant they could not protect themselves when Tevinter came calling. How the elves were treated once conquered, however, had nothing to do with Solas. 

Humans behaved toward elves the same way Europeans did when they encountered indigenous people on other continents. They could have done it differently. Solas didn’t make that choice for them. Humans decided that for themselves. 

Solas wasn’t responsible for the obliteration of Halamshiral. The Chantry was. Humans chose to force elves into slums, to take away their rights, to kill them if they felt like it.

Humans may not have taken immortality from the elves, but they did take away their language, history and cultural identity. Solas was not responsible for that. Humans bear part of the blame for what happened to the elves.

Which leads to my final point. How far back in time should we look when it comes to assigning blame? For most people, unless they are historians, probably not very far. Solas created the Veil. He is to blame. Simple. Except that it isn’t.

Would Solas have created the Veil if the Evanuris had not become corrupt? No, he wouldn't have.

The Evanuris are ultimately responsible for what happened to the elves. Solas did what he had to do, to prevent something worse from happening. He may view it as a mistake but it’s only a mistake if another, better solution was available to him, and he chose not to take it. 

The key to redeeming him might be helping him see that. 

[chaikachi]

Treasure is a Rosegarden Song

HEAR ME OUT OKAY. I've known for a while it could be sort of linked back to them, but it felt easier to brush it off as a general whole team reunion song... Until today's new episode.

⚠ SPOILERS AHEAD, YE HAVE BEEN WARNED ⚠

We got a very big win today with the Bees, they even got a whole new song that Casey has confirmed is bmblb part 2 (check her twitter, i'm not linking it lol). Which... really makes you wonder if they'd have that many Bees songs back to back, right? An argument can surely be made for it being a song about Yang and Ruby as that's the first reunion in Ultimatum that we see, but the lyrics don't really imply a sisterly bond. It could be Renora as the other couple that had a hint of a reunion that scene... but they didn't have a proper one. We got it and their confession in the following episode.

Which leaves the only other focused relationship dynamic in that moment: Ruby and Oscar

And why would it be an RG song? Well, they're the only 'pair' that got separated in v8 that didn't end the volume together. The teams were split down the middle with very clear foils:

Yang to Blake Ren to Nora Weiss to Jaune Ruby to Oscar (Also Ruby to Yang but this ain't about them)

But when Atlas fell, Ren and Nora were together in Vacuo. The bees made it to Ever After. Jaune and Weiss did too... but Oscar and Ruby? They're the only ones that are still apart. And this song is one about absence of another and awaiting a reunion. So lets dive into the lyrics proper, shall we?

Night and day, I've waited

For starters, the sun and moon symbolism that's been thrown around for them since their introductions. Yes, the Bees also have a celestial union going on, but again please bare with me.

All alone in crowded rooms I'm incomplete, my life is paused When you're not here

This is the longest portion of the analysis as the line "all alone in crowded rooms" is so heavy.

It gets tricky when we can't see Oscar's state rn (i will come back to him in a minute tho), but we do know Ruby's. We know that she is preoccupied with a lot of things. She's weighed down by Penny's death, by the internalized expectations she has to be just like Summer, this perfect hero from a fairytale, and is alone in her burdens as a leader. Romance is likely the last thing on her mind. But she is feeling loneliness, isolation, and left behind. We can see that in all past volume examples quite literally (like the above photo, the dance, Brunswick farms, her team not wanting to explore Atlas after their first mission, etc.), but it's really being driven home in recent episodes between the Blacksmith (Carpenter?) and Ruby's reaction to the Bees.

"You're doing this all alone?"

Also just... the way they're all positioned in this scene is so intentional. Yang and Blake are together and they are warm by the fire. Weiss is drinking some piping tea and smiling at them. And Ruby is sitting alone at a table with an empty chair, draped in a teal/green cloth, furthest from the fire. Remember the song "Cold" and how it's used as a metaphor for loss, loneliness, and grief throughout the show? Yeahhhh.

Recognizing Ruby is alone in crowded rooms begs the question of who in the cast makes her not feel that way. Well, anyone that's spent any amount of time looking at RG knows their entire dynamic is built on relating to and respecting each other for their similar positions. That out of everyone, Oscar has been the one to see through Ruby's mask and got her to actually open up about her grief. On the opposite side, Ruby helps Oscar in much the same ways he does her. By constantly watching his back, standing up for him, and reassuring him that despite the merge he is his own person... but he is also someone familiar with this feeling.

By virtue of being an Oz, he's already alienated. He joined the party late and doesn't know everyone as well as the others. He's also the youngest of the bunch and that's a lot of pressure that Ruby is familiar with.

So out of every pairing in the cast, these two are the ones that feel the most alone in crowded rooms and, by extension, less alone when they are together.

Though I walk this world I am nowhere to be found Every thought's of you And for now, you're not around

The singer here is saying that they don't feel present or grounded because of the absence of someone else. Their thoughts are with the person they are missing... but the wording about 'walking this world' is so specific when RG is the only pair split between worlds.

If this is from Oscar's POV, then he isn't found on Remnant. He's found in Ever After because that's where Ruby, and therefore his thoughts, are. The reverse POV also works, but in Ruby being very prioritized with the state they left Remnant in and her team consistently trying to pull her back to what's happening right in front of them.

But that's alright I'll be just fine I'm not concerned With sands of time

Sands of time is another very specific wording choice. Hourglass being associated with time is a give-in... but knowing what we know now it could be a lot of things. The Ever After is messy with time; we're seeing that firsthand with Jaune. But with Ruby and Oscar being the only ones still separated, there is an anticipation and a 'waiting' happening.

Beyond sands of time, Oscar - who has clock gears as a constant motif for his character design - is surrounded by sand as far as the eye can see in the deserts of Vacuo.

If forever comes and goes, I won't pay it no mind

Oscar is Oscar, do not misconstrue me here. But who, out of everyone in the cast aside from Salem, is most familiar with the concept of 'forever'? The one currently merging with a man who's lived a thousand lifetimes.

Hour after hour, I spend Dreaming that your voice will wake My slumbering ear Numb and lost I wander with No place to go, just aimless 'til You reappear

This is much like the earlier verse talking about loss and being directionless without their light to guide them. This song has some parallels to a few others, but for now I want to talk about Sky is Falling, which we know is an Oscar song:

Our world, lost without a soul Losing all control, not getting closer Every day is just another dose of torture (Torture) Now we pay the cost, the race is lost This nightmare's our real life

This can easily be linked back to wanting to wake from a bad dream and feeling lost without a (smaller more honest) soul being present. Later in that same song:

Lost all my hopes and dreams

Being numb and lost without hope. Ruby being the embodiment of hope.

Watch my life flash by in scenes And it seems there's no soul on the video screen

I am aggressively reminded of Arkos and Jaune watching Pyrrha's training video on a loop. Would bet actual money Oscar is doing the same of Ruby's broadcast back in Vacuo... because he was the only big name in the cast that wasn't shown watching that video when it went live.

Cold soaked as I'm standin' in rain Feelin' nothin' but pain until I see you again

Once again tying into feeling lost without the other.

Back to Treasure:

'Til you come in view I keep watch with these sore eyes Looking through the tears As the days creep slowly by

Emphasis on seeing each other again which can also be linked to the above stanza from Sky is Falling as well as Until the End with rain and tears being almost synonymous. (Until the End and Treasure have SO many parallels that I can't talk about all of them here without it becoming a whole separate post. Maybe later tho!)

Nothing's gonna shake my faith I know you're coming back real soon to my embrace

The emphasis on embrace when RG was the only pair that didn't get a hug.

Though time goes by so slow I'm never letting go I won't give up, if I spend my life I know

The time motif again followed by "I won't give up" paralleled to Ruby's line in her broadcast where she says "Even if Atlas falls, you can't give up."

"Atlas" also meaning Ruby. "You" being Oscar and the rest of the people still fighting. Oscar, who took up her mantle of leadership in a way through his costume change and actions in v6 after Ruby stepped into Oz's role.

And then lastly, the song's namesake:

'Cause the treasure of my life Is being by your side

Treasure, by definition, has two different meanings.

noun 1. a quantity of precious metals, gems, or other valuable objects. verb 1. keep carefully (a valuable or valued item).

The song at face value is talking about treasure as the verb. The act of treasuring or cherishing something precious. But much like some other double meanings in this song, a very strong argument can be made for the noun definition as well.

Ruby, who's first name literally means 'precious red gemstone'. Ruby, who's eyes are Silver and how that has tied into Rosegarden since their very first meeting. Oscar, who's eyes glow Gold with his own magic. Who's first name can also be easily associated with the colour by way of the award show statues of the same name.

If those are symbolisms associated with Oscar and Ruby, while Yang and Blake get a song called bmblb for being the same colour as bees and having a confession in a garden... then I think there is no other duo that the song Treasure can be about.

[loelysian]

marmoris (chapter 3)

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

chapter 1 chapter 2

word count: 4.2k

summary: after a dangerous rescue mission led by namor, you safely make it back to talokan. things should be alright between the two of you. after all, you’re home safe because of him. why aren’t they?

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you, please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. fair warning, there are kissing scenes in this chapter so if that is not your cup of tea, i wouldn't read this. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: near-death experiences, talk of death, mentions of wounds that are not for the faint of heart and violence.

Someone had cut into the ship—that much you knew as the red, angry blinking lights and repetitive ‘warning: someone has breached the landing pad’ rang in the cockpit loud and clear. Panicking, Shuri tried everything she could to keep the ship afloat since you would be making direct contact with land instead of water when it inevitably crashed. Distantly in the air, you smelt what you thought might be smoke as you noticed the entire right side of the ship had been cut into, leaving a dangerous opening where the wing should have been. Muyal had her eyes closed, the tips of her fingers a dangerous white as she gripped onto the edge of her seat tightly, praying you would stay in the air.

Okoye and Shuri were shouting but you could barely hear them over the beeping. You had no idea what to do as you’d never so much as touched Wakandan tech in your life, but you decided to ask.

“Do you need any help?” you yelled, leaning against the back of Shuri’s seat as the ship began to tilt to the side. Bad move. You quickly sat back down and buckled yourself in, trying your hardest not to move.

“Just stay still!” Shuri begged as she pressed numerous buttons on the control panel to no avail. Nothing seemed to be working and you knew the ship was going down soon with you and everyone in it still inside.

You dared a glance out of the front of the ship and noticed Namor had vanished which worried you more than it should have. Had he been the one to damage your ship? That couldn’t be. He was right in front of your very eyes when the alarm system had gone off.

Ramonda and Riri seemed to be talking to each other in a hurry just as Shuri and Okoye were until you saw him.

From underneath the balcony of the palace, you watched as Namor flew up toward the cracked window with his winged feet, throwing three water-bombs directly toward Ramonda and Riri. The explosion had been bigger than you were anticipating and the last thing you heard before the four of you were emerged in water was Shuri’s screams.

Somewhere in the mess of the ship crashing which had effectively thrown you into a giant torpedo-like wave, slamming you against numerous shards of glass from the window and broken parts from the damaged ship, you’d lost your water-mask.

You ended up on barren, dry land several feet from the water but because your body was still in the process of healing itself from the several deep wounds you’d received, you couldn’t drag yourself into the water to catch your breath. You felt like a beached whale and were aware the air you were desperately trying to inhale sounded like you were inches from death.

There hadn’t been a time before in your life where you were almost certain you were going to die. You weren’t sure why you felt so calm—at ease. The finality of it all normally scared you, but as you laid on the sandy shore of Wakanda, you felt at peace. Since the sun was setting, you mustered enough strength to position yourself on your back so you could stare at the sky. You could still see the black smoke from the shipwreck and somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought of Shuri, Muyal and Okoye, hoping they were okay—that they survived. You could feel the wind brushing against your near-dry body much like a sea of kelp and listened as three birds circled you from above, cawing distantly. In a way, it helped ground you.

You weren’t sure if you’d healed yourself completely or the pain was too much for your body to process but everything from your neck down was numb. Maybe you’d been paralyzed from the impact of the fall. You barely registered the fact that you were crying, a tear from the corner of your eye cascading down your face like a lone raindrop on a glass window. Namor was the only person you were thinking about now—his sweet brown eyes, strong, calloused hands moving up and down your body, the sound of his laughter which you found you’d do just about anything to hear, the way he cared for you like no one else could. Your vision was beginning to dim but you continued to watch as the sky turned an orangey-pink, the sun dipping below the horizon.

Since your lungs lacked the air you so desperately needed, you felt the strong urge to cough but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Somewhere on your left side, you were beginning to regain feeling—your nerves were working again, and you were almost certain you’d been pierced by something as you were falling from the sky—pierced by something deep. You could feel the shards of glass in your hand as you tried to detach the bracelet Namor had given you—you felt the urge to hold it close one last time. It was a struggle, but eventually you got it off of your wrist with minimal pain. It was as beautiful as it was the first time you’d seen it. It made you think of the first time you’d met Namor—he had been wearing the very bracelet you were holding underneath his lab coat. It made you think of your wedding night and how close he held you after the ceremony concluded, promising to take care of you for the rest of his life. It reminded you of Talokan and how much you cared for your people.

At the tips of your toes, you began to feel the tide rolling in, the warm water inviting you back home, but you were far too weak to move, let alone stand. You had already accepted your fate and as much as it pained you to leave Namor, there was nothing you could do.

On your right, you could hear people shouting to each other in Yucatec but brushed it off, thinking you were likely hallucinating from the lack of air to your brain.

The water was getting closer to you, though, washing up and down your legs like kisses, sweet and warm until it reached your arms. It was calm and inviting. To your right, you noticed an octopus doing its best to lift debris off of your legs while a school of crabs worked to cut the net that had tangled around your shoulders. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you smiled knowing Namor had sent them for you.

When you were in the ocean, you were able to heal yourself a lot faster. Although the salt from the water stung, you could feel your body working to heal itself thanks to the vibration-infused liquid, pushing the glass out of your hands and closing up the gash in your side. Once the water was up to your neck, you prepared for complete submersion and instinctively held your breath despite being able to breathe underwater. As soon as you were completely underwater, your eyes opened and you gave the orange-red octopus a pat on its head as it worked as fast as it could. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to recall why you were here—your body was in shock though you weren’t aware of it and suddenly, as you noticed the blood on the surface of the water, you remembered how you’d gotten here. Shuri. The explosion.

Everything came back to you in a burst of energy and immediately, you sat up in a panic before you swam as fast as you could to check on Shuri—you had to make sure she was okay. She had to be. She had to.

As soon as you got to the shipwreck, both seats were empty and void—nobody was there—but what caught your eye was the fact that Shuri’s seat was crushed. You dove into the water in search of her, hoping there was a clue—anything at all that told you where she might be but there was nothing.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms came up from behind you and held onto you, tightly. From his hands alone and the jewelry that adorned his wrists, you knew they belonged to Namor. Oh, he had come back for you. He’d made sure you were okay. At once, you turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders, the water giving you a boost as your lips intertwined with his. It was messy and desperate, your teeth colliding with his but damnit, you didn’t care—you wanted, no, needed to be close to him—to feel him as he sighed against you, his breath stuttering when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.

It reminded you of the very first time the two of you had kissed. It had been a rush of emotions, a sense of urgency, but something like love was what felt most prominent to you. He’d taken you to a beach in Carlsbad, California—one that you hadn't been to before—and you’d climbed down the rocky cliff together, hands entangled, watching as the beds of kelp washed up on shore. That evening, he’d made you a picnic and a beautiful bed of seafood with the freshest lobster you’d ever had. You could tell by the way he’d been acting that he had something to tell you—he kept stealing glances every time he thought you weren’t looking, a soft smile resting on his face. For the first time since you’d met him, Namor looked at ease. He seemed content. You’d dared to ask him.

“What was all this for?” it hadn’t been the execution you’d been hoping for and you found yourself cringing at what you’d said, but Namor’s smile only grew.

“Sometimes, I want to appreciate you—to let you know that you’re the most important person in the world to me, but I don’t know how to say it, so I show it instead.” and you thought that was a pretty good answer but sometimes, you found yourself confused as to why he’d chosen you. Why he spent his free evenings with you. Why he laughed at your jokes and watched your favorite movies and listened to your favorite songs and tried everything you liked.

Suddenly, you'd found yourself overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sensation that brewed deep in your stomach, something akin to want.

“Can I kiss you?” you had asked him that night. You still remembered the date, the song that had been playing and the way his deep, brown eyes lit up at your question.

At his shy nod, you surged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shut your eyes. With the candles glowing beside you, the moment felt magical. You found that Namor was a passionate kisser. He loved to make you feel. You stayed pressed against him even after the sun set behind the trees, cuddling into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering words of love and adornment into your hair as you felt yourself dozing off. That night, when he was certain you’d fallen asleep, in a hushed tone, he promised aloud that he’d never leave you. What he didn’t know was that you’d been awake.

Today, as Namor held you in his arms like you were the most fragile thing he’d ever picked up, he whispered into your hair;

“Ma'atech asab a dejaré, in eek'e' (i will never leave you again, my star).” much like the night your souls had connected for the very first time, he spoke to you of promises you knew would never be broken.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to leave with him, to head back to Talokan but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go just yet. You couldn’t leave Wakanda without seeing Shuri alive. You didn’t even need to talk to her—you just wanted a sign—something to know she was safe.

“We have to go, in yakunaj (my love).” you were squirming in his arms but his grip was persistent. In the back of your mind, you knew he was right. If you were to stay, you would be dead by sunrise, but Shuri was your friend. You felt you had to know she was okay—that she’d survived the shipwreck.

“No!” you screamed, “I have to make sure she’s safe!” you were no match against Namor and eventually the two of you were pulled deeper and deeper in the water. If there was one thing he knew about you, you rarely gave up. You kept fighting, even if your arms were burning from the excursion of energy your body didn't have.

“Who, in yakunaj (my love).” he spoke calmly, his words calculated. Namor had no doubt you were in shock, especially since you’d nearly just died so he treated you with care, demanding his army to wait until he was there in person before they retrieved you. He had to do it himself.

“The princess! Shuri! She- she was on the ship with me. I don’t know if they survived,” you cried, but you were exhausted, the weight of what had just happened taking a toll on you. You collapsed against your husband's chest, falling into his arms as your eyes closed in unison. Namor pushed a piece of hair out of your face, kissing the top of your head slowly before he signaled for his men to follow him.

He was taking you home.

You dreamt of San Diego from an angle you weren’t as familiar with anymore. Of surfing, remembering the feeling in your stomach as you paddled toward shore, knowing you’d caught a wave. Of your parents and their smiles and the drives the three of you would take together every weekend. Every Friday when you got home from school, your small backpack had already been packed for the trip. You and your parents never had a final destination in mind. You just drove wherever you wanted to. Since you lived two hours from the coast, oftentimes you’d end up in a small beach town with family-owned businesses and vacant houses, all vacation homes waiting for summer when the owners would come visit for a week. You always proposed to camp on the beach but your parents were more keen on staying in a hotel that overlooked the water instead. You couldn’t find it in yourself to complain and on nights when you couldn’t fall asleep, you snuck out onto the balcony and took the stairs by two so you could get to the water.

The beach at night had always been peaceful to you. Since you were the only person there, you could walk as far and long as you wanted but you always made sure to return before sunrise so your parents wouldn’t worry. They always knew where you had been though since there was a sandy trail that led to your bed.

In the mornings, you remembered hating how long your parents would take to get ready for the day. You practically lived in your swimsuit during the weekend and you tried your best not to grow impatient as your parents sipped their coffee on the balcony, watching the waves crash onto shore.

“Mom,” you drew out. “What if I went by myself and swam for a bit while you guys ate breakfast and watched tv.” you had only been seven at the time, barely tall enough to reach the sink to wash your hands but you were convinced you were grown up enough to do this.

“Y/n,” your mother held you close to her chest. “You cannot do everything alone,” what she’d said had stuck with you for most of your life.

You were a rather independent person but whenever you were growing overwhelmed, you reminded yourself of what your mother said.

She always knew how to make you feel better.

When you woke up, you were in Namor’s bed by yourself. You tried to sit up, but your side was still aching from the wound you’d gotten back in Wakanda. That’s right. It was all coming back to you now. You remembered Nakia taking you with her, joking with Riri and sharing stories with Shuri by the water. Shuri. Something akin to failure stung in your chest. You still weren’t sure if she’d made it out alive. You sighed in frustration, staring up at the drawing-adorned ceiling Namor painted during his free time. You were still exhausted from the battle and thought another nap couldn’t hurt, so you shut your eyes and let sleep take over.

When you woke up, you were alone once more, but the side of your stomach was feeling better so you decided you were going to find your husband and get some answers. You had many questions after all.

Wrapping a blanket around your small frame, you headed out into the hallway and started swimming to where you thought he might be though you ran into a small crowd of people who obviously weren’t expecting your presence. Their faces lit up and each of them bowed before one of the men in the front shouted for everyone to hear;

“Le Reina táan u yaajal! Alegrar u (the queen is awake! rejoice)!” he cried, arms in the air as everyone began to clap. Despite being in a hurry, you smiled in their direction and pressed your hand to the man's shoulder. Maybe he knew where Namor was.

“Yuumbo'otik Nib óolal, chéen ba'ale' yaan jump'éel k'áat chi' (thank you, thank you but i do have a question).” you spoke in yucatec. The man nodded with a smile.

“Je'el ba'alake' in Reina. Je'el ba'alake' (anything my queen. anything).” you thanked him and rose your voice slightly, hoping other passerbyers might know the answer if he did not.

“A wojel wáaj tu'ux yaan k'uj ' túun Ku'uk'ulkan (do you know where k’uk’ulkan is)?” you asked him. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Mencionó junp'éel múuch'tambale' le tu chi' u asistir bejla'e'. Kun yaantal ichil áaktuno'ob (he mentioned a meeting he had to attend to. he should be in the caves)” the man replied happily. You nodded to him in thanks and took off toward the caves, hoping you’d find a spare water-mask on the way.

Hidden in the shadows of the cave, Namor, Namora and Attuma discussed the war they’d started with Wakanda. Partly, it had been because of your kidnapping. Namor had no idea what their plans were with you and he’d refused to let you become a spoil of war so he’d gone after you himself with his most trusted fighters. Since one of his guards had also been killed during Shuri’s rescue and someone he knew he couldn’t trust knew of Talokan’s location, he had no choice but to attack. It had been many years since he’d gone to battle and he’d never faced an enemy before that harbored vibranium like he and his people did. He’d believe Talokan was the sole nation with access to it for many years before the idea of a vibranium detector was created. That was why he’d convinced himself he had to kill the scientist. If she possessed such knowledge and the likes of the government were after it, he couldn’t let them discover his home.

As their ruler, he refused to put them in harm's way.

Namor knew the size of your heart and what your reaction would be if he’d told you of his plans so he didn’t. Though the risk of it spilling out to you was strong, he’d foolishly thought he’d had it under control until you were kidnapped in the midst of his meeting with Ramonda. Something he couldn’t place was telling him that meeting with her was a bad idea, but he couldn’t decipher why. Maybe it had been because he’d had the scientist and that he’d given her strict instructions to only blow the conch shell if she’d had her, but he went anyway. Attuma told him she likely knew about Shuri being missing and that he had the upper hand—she would want to bargain.

That was why he’d gone.

When he’d gotten back, you’d been gone and he couldn’t help but scream out, cursing himself for allowing it to happen. He’d blamed himself—how could he not? He knew how curious you were. That you were going to get to the bottom of things one way or another. You were a scientist after all, it was in your nature to research—to study the problem at hand no matter the risk.

That was why he felt he owed you now—the protection was already his to give to you once you’d spoken your vows to him but as he watched you breathe in and out in your shared room, tracing the side of your face, he was never going to let anybody hurt you ever again. You were his and he was yours, the binding of your love written in the stars—something nothing could break. He loved you and it scared him. He felt like a child again, so naive yet he had been alive for many, many years. He felt safe with you as silly as it sounded. Someone people often thought of as a god felt safe with a mortal, someone he’d met on land who, despite what he thought, made him feel complete.

Namor wasn’t sure if he believed in past lives, but he was certain the two of you had loved each other once before. People often told him he stared at you like you hung the stars, that in ways, you had. Where he had been serious, you made him smile. Where he had been rough, you held him in between your hands and loved him. You let him be a person, not the great ruler his people regarded him as. He let himself be yours.

He hadn’t been expecting you to burst through one of the many pools in the cave, a blanket adorning your shoulders as well as the pointed-ear jewelry you had been given as a means of respect for him, a way to prove you were queen. Despite himself, Namor smiled and watched as you pulled yourself out of the water, strapping the water-mask onto your face.

Namora and Attuma noticed you and bowed where they were with knowing smiles on their faces.

“In ujo' (my moon), what brings you here?” he asked, wearing the same look of fondness he often had in conversations pertaining to you.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” you said, crossing your arms. You tried to remain strong as you hated confrontation, something Namor knew. He rose a brow, eyeing you curiously.

“For what?” he asks you.

“What did Riri do?” you knew what she’d told you was likely true, but you wanted to hear it from him—you wanted to hear his side.

He looked conflicted but as his wife and queen, you felt you deserved to know the truth.

“No more keeping secrets.” you pushed, hoping he’d give you an answer. Finally, he exhaled and led you to a corner far away from Namora and Attuma so the two of you could have some privacy.

You were surprised when he leaned in to kiss your forehead, but you shut your eyes, basking in the attention. He was a head taller than you so you found you had to stand on your toes so he could reach you. He’d always found humor in the fact that he was taller than you.

“What do you want to know, in yakunaj (my love).” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. The tips of your noses were threatening to touch, brushing against each other as he carded his hand through your hair. Like always, you leaned into the touch, pressing your hand against the back of his.

“What you wanted with Riri Williams.” you couldn’t reach his eyes as you stared at your feet.

“She was the one who crafted the vibranium-detector. If more of those were to be made, it would threaten the existence of our home. I couldn’t let that stand and took it upon myself to find her. The princess of Wakanda just so happened to be with her.” he whispered, using his free hand to hold your chin. He wanted to see your eyes, to look into them so he knew how you were feeling.

Deep down, you knew there had been no other way. Had you been in his shoes as the sole ruler of Talokan, you were sure you would have done the same but still, you felt for her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked you, his lips brushing against yours.

You shook your head, growing limp against his touch. You were still exhausted from the aftermath of the battle and wanted nothing more than for him to join you in bed for a nap but something felt wrong—off.

The air felt stunted, the water on your feet felt strange—cold rather than the warmth you had been used to. You desperately searched your lover’s eyes, hoping he noticed it too only to find that they were closed. He held his head and you watched the goosebumps form up and down his arms.

As you began to ask if we were okay, Attuma approached the both of you, panting and out of breath, his face full of concern and what you thought might resemble anger.

“Ba'ax le jéelo'? Ba'ax ku yúuchul (what is it? what’s wrong)” you asked Attuma, your voice full of worry.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Namor beat him to it.

“They’re coming. Wakanda is coming.”

tag list : @eerievixen @ichigimm @avsphroeg @borderline1bored @gamorxa @zeeader

[mister-eames]

how do you think arthur and eames would take in other slowly growing old.. I don’t see either of them as characters being insecure about themselves but how the other person would see it is kinda a mystery and exciting.. so how do you think it would go? hugs xx

Oh my goodness I love this question. I agree on them not being overly insecure in themselves - not much, or too seriously, at least. They may lament a thing here or there but nothing that would take up too much mental space.

I know it sounds a bit cliche, but overall I think they'd fall more in love with each other, tbh. Growing older is a sign of survival against an often unkind world. Of experience. It's the sexiest fucking thing in the world to see your SO earn those signs of age alongside you, to say you made it, you keep making it, despite everything life has thrown at you, you are strong enough to survive.

Though, at first, I can see Arthur having a sort of existential crisis about it.

Not because he finds Eames any less attractive. On the contrary, he loves Eames extra padding, the changes in him; the very real markers that signify that they both have survived and they are experiencing this very real privilege to get older and to do it together; that they get to share a life, full of good and bad memories - to trust someone with who you were, who you are, and who you are going to be.

But in that same regard, I can see it finally hitting Arthur in a very real way (kind of the way it hits all of us); oh... our time here is actually limited... isn't it.

Perhaps it's when they're no longer in dreamshare, risking their lives, but it occurs to Arthur in a strange, sudden sense that some day the world will go on without them. That they are in fact, mortal, despite cheating death so often in their dreams and in real life too.

Arthur might be having this crisis at 35 or 45 (probably has it every ten years after his mid-thirties tbh) and he has literal decades ahead of him, but their own own mortality really hits him. He knew, intellectually, and with Mal and Dom, and with others in his life, that nothing is guaranteed. It's just... he feels like he has earned this life with Eames, after all they've been through together and personally, and it's not even that they're geriatric or "old" by any means, but the signs are there - they are not getting younger. They are visibly growing older. There's the greys, and the aches, and the weight gain here, the fat loss there.

The fact is plain and simple with life: there is no turning this car around.

Time is a real thing. One day it starts tick-tick-ticking away very loudly in Arthur's brain, like a bomb about to go off, setting off the same kind of panic in Arthur that says do something about it -- but there is nothing to be done about it. That's the worst part. It's just life, and not even Arthur, point man extraordinaire can mitigate it or stop it.

So Eames unearths the source of Arthur's panic after Arthur takes up three new languages, asks Eames for the fiftieth time if he's sure he won't regret not having kids, dyes his hair to get rid of the greys, takes up trumpet lessons and books them a cruise or seven - and then Eames is utterly bewildered by Arthur's heightened state of existential panic because he's not even fucking old, they've never been better or happier.

At first, Eames is like, "Calm down, dear. Complain to me when we have liver spots and we're both using walkers to get around. Old is just a state of mind."

Arthur, in the midst of frantically planning a new diet for them both sans-alcohol, is not amused.

So Eames asks him, "What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know... losing time, I guess." Arthur replies. "Or... not making the most of it."

To which Eames asks plainly, fondly, "Aside from spending your days panicking, what are you gonna do about that? What do you need to do, at the end of it all, on your final day, to look back and say 'I regret nothing'?"

"I..."

"Ask yourself: what does your life without regrets look like?"

Arthur thinks, and after a long pause says:

"I... need us to live... exactly as we are now."

"That's good."

"Maybe tell you I love you more."

"And I will do the same."

Arthur takes the deepest breath he's had in days.

Then Eames adds, "By the by, I hear that not being on your husbands back about folding laundry is the key to a long, happy life."

"Nice try," Arthur rolls his eyes, taking his beloveds face in his hand and kissing that cheeky smile. "Speaking of which. I hear helping your husband fold the laundry does wonders for longevity."

--

The press of his lips against Eames and the quiet laughter between them in that moment, is one he never forgets.

--

Later, once all the laundry is folded and they're enjoying a glass of wine, Eames will Arthur that he is wrong. They are not losing time - that every day is more time they gain together.

Arthur will concede that Eames is right, sometimes.

--

As for Eames, well. He has all the pride, heart growing with love, etc etc, but you best believe he has several canvases and sketches and papers with a timeline of every iteration of Arthur, a visual chronicle of a beautiful man, drawn by Eames, over time, in varying mediums.

Not to say Eames has never felt strange about growing older, or Arthur growing older. But he's very much at peace with it, and earned the ability to be at peace with life - and himself. He's not afraid, not when there is so much to look forward to, and so much to learn.

And so many more versions of Arthur to appreciate and adore; on paper, and in person.

--

They both take the other ageing as something wonderful, something to be cherished. We only get one chance to get old, after all, but we get near endless chances to grow older. They don't get it right every day -- that is to say that sometimes life is an alarm clock that you get up and get on with on first ring, and sometimes in life you just press snooze and both is okay -- but they get it right often enough that they can call theirs 'a life, lived'.

So, yeah, they fall deeper and deeper in love with all the signs of age on each other -- it's all the time they've had, and all the incredible time they still have to gain.

[gege-wondering-around]

Why Derek has the best 'Alpha arc'

Basing this on the show and the movie too Derek had been all the 'types' of werewolves, going through at least once all the eyes colors.

Yellow: is the base color werewolves get when they are first turned or when they are born

Blue: after he 'accidentally' kills Paige in his teenage years after trying to turn her into a werewolf

Red: after he kills Peter and steal the power from him to avenge Laura who had been killed by Peter to get the Alpha status

Blue: he loses the alpha status after he heals his sister Cora form a mistletoe poisoning (he takes so much of her pain that not even the Alpha strenght can keep up and 'dissapears' in order to save Derek's own life since if they take too much pain from others they could die)

Yellow: when kate de-aged him and he was left with his eyes from before he met Paige, but he slowly regain his blue

Evolved omega: altho his eyes don't change colors he can now fully tunr into a wolf

Red: during the movie in the last scene, when Parrish burn him and the nogitsune he turns into a True Alpha

Derek went from your typical bad guy that wants revenge, power and blood to your tough gentle guy who is very wise and considerate of others.

He started off as probably one of the worst Alpha on the show and became one even for the wrong or worst reasons:

He went around biting teens to build himself a pack to help him fight the Alpha pack and two of the three he bite ended up death (yet he still care for them all but his way of teaching them their 'new nature' wasn't the best and despite it was the only way he knew he could've done something more, but since they are his betas he inevitably cares about them and from a simple pack bond it becomes something more personal, cause in the end he cared for them for who they were and loved them for just being themselves)

He killed his uncle to gain the Alpha status for getting revenge and to fulfill his greed for power (that he thought maybe could help him heal or feel fine again but it never happened)

He put others in danger to achive what he wanted (like when he got Scott and Stiles to help him kill/hunt Peter)

But from being this big crappy man he lost his powers - that he literally made a bloody bath to get - to save his sister, to save the little family he had left.

He started to understand more the people he had around and who they were, he started to care for them genuinely. He was worried sick for Stiles bein possessed, cared for his betas (whoever was left) and had more interest in ensuring his friends' safety. His FRIENDS!

He started to see people - Scott, Stiles and the others - as his friends and not someone that would eventually betray or use him and that somehow cared for him too - even if most of the time he was thrown around like a fighting doll.

And then he remained an omega and evolved into a wolf, an actual wolf and saved the day - generally speaking.

He went from 'I'm gonna kill you' to 'I care for you' which is a lot for a character like Derek. Someone who went through years of pain and sorrow, having almost no one at all to rely onto and left to deal with whatever Kate did to him and with the guilt of getting his family killed - which isn't is fault!

And then we got the movie:

He has a son, Eli, whom he loves and cares for throughout the entire movie and I'm sure he was a great dad, maybe a little strict and traditional-minded on a few things, but definitely a good and caring father

He almost get killed and when he's fine and the wound on his neck is sealed, he 'dies' protecting his son - or better to say, stepping in the way of a sword

He helps the Sheriff with cases when at the beginning he was one of the few who wanted Derek in a prison - whether supernatural or a simple prison cell

Ans then, at the end, he sacrifice himself to save everyone and gets burned alive which turns him into a TRUE ALPHA!

This whole build up of events, of development and changes, going from bad to good, from a reckless and greedy man to someone one would look up to, a wise man who had seen enough and doesn't want others to live what he lived.

And like the Sheriff said

I have never seen anyone take the kind of punishment that Derek Hale took… And kept taking… In order to protect the people he loved.

He died burning alive, he died like his family did. Burned alive.

And this is worthy of a True Alpha. He sacrificed himself for everyone's sake and after his whole life was hell he wnet through with yet again another round of pain and tears. He had to leave his son alone to save him!

And he could've just let Scott get burned and stayed with his son but Derek was so selfless that he decided to take the burden upon himself once more.

Derek is the best Alpha in teen wolf - show and movie - and he's actually worth of being called a true alpha cause he earned it over and over and over again, he learned and become better, he healed and become a better person and leader. He earned his title as True Alpha.

Derek deserved, earned and is worthy of the True Alpha status and it costed him his life and his time with his son, and for what?

The people he saw as his family and he chose them above himself.

He did it for the people he loved.

[emelinstriker]

*holds hands together* ..... What do they consider an insult? Like I know theres friendly teasing .... And it might depend if its from a stranger compared to a friend of tbe Reader.... What would trigger the Champions to direct their attention in a ...negative way...?

Okay so, one very sensitive topic for any of the champions (except for Mink and MK) is their memory loss. While they just try to ignore and brush off any questions regarding their pasts, persistent questioning can actually cause very much negative reactions that range from annoyance and anger to anxiety and distress.

Now, in case of individual triggers that offend them in a way... Have one for each when interacting to outsiders/non-servants...

Wukong: Out of all the champions, he holds the most pride over his brand marks. Especially his champion mark. He takes great offense if someone were to comment badly on his mark(s). And due to how he rarely ever shows any major emotions, you know that person is done for and talked too much shit about his mark(s) if this monkey keeps death glaring them in silent rage.

Macaque: Being compared to Wukong and not being treated on an at least equal footing to him. He does try to prove himself. He really does try his best. But sometimes, despite that, there's some comments being thrown around about Wukong being praised, but not acknowledging Macaque's work and major involvement. The way his sworn brother helps him at times even feels like an insult. He does appreciate it and doesn't hold anything against Wukong, but outsiders are another can of worms.

MK: This boy's a literal landmine. There's no exact telling of when he'll suddenly snap. However, a thing that he sees as a major insult is literally anything bad against his Master. As in, if someone insulted him, he'd just brush it off. But if someone were to insult his Master in any way, his staff is already in his hand, ready to strike.

Nezha: Comment about his looks tend to piss him off real quick. Be it about his "girly looks" or just generally being seen as the pink champion.

Mink: It formerly used to be his name. Like, the name "Mink" as well as any cute nickname variation such as "Minky" used to annoy and offend him. But after he got used to it, another trigger would be the details on how he became a servant. Unlike the others, he does remember. And he really doesn't want to remember.

[destroyerofnations92]

I always find it funny when those who support the Greens cling to Daemon’s (supposedly) evil acts and atrocities committed, to justify them overthrowing the king’s chosen heir, while also completely ignoring their own side.

Aegon is a proven rapist and frequent child abuser, who might even be a pedophile as well, depending on how you interpret the comment that he prefers the more “unsavory” brothels. He has bastards, whom he has fight in fighting pits. He is an absolute monster.

Helaena is an innocent victim. I’ll give you that. I feel bad for what is to come for her.

Aemond is a kinslaying psychopath. I don’t get those who seem to look forward to him and Alys. He killed her entire family and then took Alys, a prisoner of war, into his bed. Sounds like rape and a war crime to me. His actions cause so much pain. Burns the Riverlands, killing thousands, and his actions are the reason Jaehaerys is brutally massacred.

Daeron is an unknown entity, though he doesn’t seem evil, just a dutiful young man and another victim of his family’s misplaced ambition.

Alicent is a terrible person. She sneakily crept into the bed of her best friend’s father, not even six moons after his wife died in the birthing bed. I’d be surprised if the birthing blood had dried yet. She raised her sons to be hateful little monsters, and inspired their base and disgusting behavior. She was abusive and an all-round horrible mother. Every bad thing that will happen to her family is because of her. She hides behind her false piety, while she is out here allowing dudes to wank one out over her feet the day her husband died. Alicent is no victim, she hasn’t been one in a very long time. She could have had Larys seized, but she didn’t because she wants him working for her and not her father. Manipulative and disgusting.

Larys is a kinslayer of the worst kind. No problem with the foot fetishism, to everyone their own. Though I do find a dude called the Clubfoot having a thing for feet a little on the nose.

Criston Cole is truly an incel. He had one whiff of pussy and upon being rejected started spouting every incel/MRA talking-point out there. He is just a sad and pathetic person wearing a mask and clinging to his false Faith and his white cloak, pretending to be someone he is not.

Otto is a jealous little troll, who did everything in his power to destroy the House of the Dragon. I am a firm believer in the Oldtown Conspiracy, and that the Faith, the Citadel and House Hightower conspired to overthrow the Dragonlords and install Hightowers on the Iron Throne. He cares for nothing but himself. He is an almost one-dimensional villain.

That said, while the Greens are shit, they wouldn’t have been able to pull this off if not for two people: Jaehaerys and Viserys.

Jaehaerys was no conciliator, he was a capitulator. He kneeled to the Faith, was a shit father to his daughter, clearly a rampant misogynist, and allowed these “lesser” Andal lords a say in the governing and succession of the House of the Dragon. His entire shtick about Targaryen exceptionalism was thrown out the window the moment he didn’t want a woman on the throne. He is the root of all evil. Alysanne was a far better queen than he was a king.

Ah, Viserys the Peaceful. More like Viserys the Fool. The only reason he even sat the throne was because his brother assembled an army for him. Well, that and because his grandfather was clearly a deep-rooted women-hater. He was a moron. I saw someone describe him as using his kindness and peaceful nature to cloak what hides beneath: weakness. He was so easily manipulated and his actions led to the death of the dragons.

It is no coincidence it all went wrong for the Targaryens the moment the King wed an Andal. You can disagree with Daemon's Valyrian supremacy all you'd like, but he was right. The moment they "bred" with lesser beings, it all went to shit. They should have kept it to the Velaryons, Celtigars, Baratheons or the bastard Valyrians from the Free Cities.

The Greens’ treason caused the death of the dragons and was the reason the Seven Kingdoms were unprepared for the Night King and his armies.

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

Another little essay on the mls5 finale

Tl;dr Gabriel Agreste Was Not Redeemed but it Makes Sense to feel weird and gross about it! And i think it was definitely Designed that way and did a very cool job of showing some complicated things

(Under a cut for ml s5 finale spoilers and also She-Ra spoilers because i’m comparing arcs, you dont have to have seen she-ra for this to make sense just, you will get spoilers)

Gabriel Agreste’s death reminded me IMMENSELY of shadow weaver’s death in she-ra. it left me with the same emotions. and i think they’re both Clearly trying to show the same thing

In both, there is this, almost *parody* of a heroic sacrifice??? There is a villain/abusive parent who is SHOWN repeatedly to be evil and to Cause Repeated Harm to their child/main character. But the main character can never quite renounce them because they’re always thrown the tiniest scraps at the very last minute. And this main character is trapped in a never ending cycle of needing to crawl back for help because despite it all they WANT to believe that there is some Pure Underlying Motive behind it all and that actually their parent DOES love them and IS good. Because who WOULDN’T want to believe that, especially in moments of terror and lonliness and the world falling to pieces???

And BOTH of these villains die by a “heroic sacrifice” that THEY think redeems them. They both die as a sacrifice ONLY when it’s a last resort and they’re going to die ANYWAYS if they DONT do anything. and they both make SURE that a child they’ve traumatized On Purpose is Watching Them Die Heroically. For both of them there’s this element of… their death is one last act of traumatizing the person they’re saving and ALSO one last act of making them feel Trapped and like they are In Debt and Have To Stay Loyal to their abusive parent?????

Like???? Gabriel LITERALLY does those tears that may or may not have been fake but were Definitely weaponized to play with marinette’s moral compass and catch her off guard. followed by the like… cackling evil villain act. Istg he was like Playing with marinette like a little ragdoll and Relishing in how Helpless she was as he made the wish. He KNEW he had her trapped, not just By The Miraculous but also Emotionally. He KNEW she had no one else to turn to. He KNEW he held the cards and he could say “make sure adrien remembers me as a hero” and that she’d HAVE to do it. Because he was about to die in front of her and she was going to be messed up by the whole thing and all these secrets and she wasn’t gonna have much choice other than to just Believe He Was Right And Good. As a coping mechanism.

And i think,,, there’s this aura of… he Genuinely thinks he has won. He thinks that he has succeeded in being a Good Father. He thinks that he has Manipulated and Snared his way into being a Hero and Right because he thinks that’s a thing you can do!!!! He doesn’t even consider changing his ways, not when natalie AND adrien AND ladybug all BEG him to listen. He doesnt consider treating anyone else as a person or admitting he could be wrong????? He just doubles down Harder and goes “hahaaaa i have manipulated and traumatized this teenager into continuing my lies and making up a narrative for me where im the hero… this is the same as being a genuienly good parent.”

And i GET the feelings of grossness bc that was a gross thing he did!!!! I agree!!!

But i DONT think he got to get away free or be redeemed????

If anything, it gave me the same gut feeling as shadow weaver’s death in she ra????? Like????? This is the Final Proof that he’s beyond saving because he cant even DIE without using it as one last opportunity to hurt someone he should be protecting????? And he doesnt even Realize that’s messed up he’s just like “heehee i win at tricking those stupid little teenagers into thinking im a hero” with no sense of self reflection.

After watching through that scene a few times i am CONFIDENT it was meant to come off that way and im not actually Sure how much they’ll address it??????

(And im also a teensy bit confused because??? I dont know who the target audience is at this point??? If it really is little kids as the target i am Sure they’ll address it blatantly but the show’s been getting darker and more Nuanced lately. But this is a different point)

but even if they DON’T!!!!! This is just!!! So similar to shadow weaver’s death in she-ra, another cartoon theoretically aimed at children and they DIDNT even address that one at all because it was just,,,,,, SO obvious that even if she DID save the main characters with her death she also used it as a way to twist the knife?????

And so far ive just been talking about Recreation Specifically???? But the REASON gane was dying was bc he literally CATACLYSMED HIMSELF with chat’s hand as a way to trauamtize ladynoir because he thought it would catch them off guard and screw with them!!!!!!!!!!

This is not the narrative saying “oh he had good intentions and was right all along uwu” to me, this was very clearly the narrative saying “sometimes people are so far convinced that theyre the only one that matters that they cant even DIE without using it as a way to hurt and manipulate everyone they should be supporting and wow can that screw people up when they’re left to pick up those pieces and leave them with a complicated mess of emotions.”

and also its saying that it is in fact okay to hate your dead parents if they sucked . And its okay to be have complicated feelings about it, u dont have to be able to make an opinion immediately or seperate yourself from the situation. Sometimes it hurts and you mourn what you shouldve had Anyway.

And i think just like she ra, this is a very Mature and Complicated take and its Okay to have mixed feelings about it, but i just wanted to reassure people that the ending absolutely did not say that gabe was a good person.

It MIGHT have said that the wish actually helped make the world better!!! We don’t know that part yet!!!!

But we DO know that it said,,,,, even IF gabe made One Good Decision, he did it at the cost of everyone he should have been supporting and died with everyone he loved hating him for Good Reason and he used his last seconds of life to traumatize and manipulate a scared little kid into telling everyone he was A Hero . And he was not above beating up and hurting said little kid (ladybug) for funsies. I think even IF his wish IS proven to be A Good Thing (big if) there will STILL be a very valid question of “was it worth it.” There will still be tons of trauma on adrien and marinette’s part that Isnt going away. And that is on him and him alone

[slasherlaurie]

LAURIEE beloved <3 i wanted to ask if you had any general or cute hcs about the nurse and adiris??

RACEE BELOVED <33 ofc!! wasn’t completely sure to do just regular hcs or romatic ones so i mixed in both, hope thats ok 🩵

warnings: none, gn reader!

Sally Smithson/The Nurse

Sally’s mask still smells like smoke from the asylum fire, leaving her hair with the permanent scent of ash. Please, when she takes off the cloth, play with her hair. It helps ground her in a way no one but you can.

The small things mean a lot to Sally, and she always takes note of them. You mentioned you like dancing? She’ll find a music box so you can dance together. You blush when her hands linger on yours? She’ll always find a reason to intertwine her fingers with yours.

The Nurse prefers to stay in her own realm, but if she doesn’t hear from you for a while she has no issue stalking around the boundary of the survivor camp to check you’re ok, much to the horror of anyone to see her.

Sally spends a lot of her time asleep on the various pieces of furniture in the Disturbed Ward, recovering from the fatigue of trials. Often she’ll draw up her mask to uncover her mouth, just to make breathing a little easier than normal.

Despite this, she’s so lively when you’re around, she can’t help but feel energised by your presence. It’s almost like she’s a match lit up whenever you come to see her.

You had a rough day/night? Please come to see Sally, she knows just how to help. She’ll pick you up bridal style and keep you safely tucked to her chest while carrying you to the nearest couch. Sitting down, she’ll keep you held close to her while stroking your hair and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head.

Though she’s very changed now, Sally was once a nurse, and she has the best treatment reserved for only you <3

Adiris/The Plague

Adiris is someone who is very regal and reserved, often keeping her emotions hidden behind her ever guarded face.

Yet, you always manage to draw out her expressions. It starts with a small smile she can’t help when she sees you come to visit her, then a chuckle when you do something amusing, and if you catch her off guard by linking your hands with hers, you can even make her blush.

Adiris is so touch starved from years of attempting to keep the people around her rid of her infection, so it takes her a while to warm up to being physically affectionate with you. Though she craves nothing more than to hold you close to her, she’s scared to death about infecting you as well.

Instead, Adiris opts to use her words to express her feelings towards you (at least until she figures out The Entity prevents you from getting sick or infected outside trials). She was always well spoken in her life before the fog, and knowing that she’s speaking to you motivates her more. Though her babylonian words may be unfamiliar to your ears, with the adoring look in the priestess’s face the praise and meaning comes across the same.

After establishing physical contact is safe, you’ll have to help warm Adiris up to it, show her that you reciprocate her affections. Please, show her you’re not put off or disturbed by her scars and disfigurement. Hold her hands to your cheeks and kiss her palms, massage her shoulders after a trial, wrap your arms around her waist and hug her tightly, she loves it all. Adiris goes especially red if you pair these actions with sweet whispers against her skin, “my priestess”, “you’re gorgeous”, “please, you’re so much to me”.

Adiris will always find a way to be touching you somehow. A strong hand on your shoulder, an arm sneaking around your waist, her chest pressing into your back as she helps you reach for something. She loves it most when she gets you to rest your head in her lap, carding her slim fingers through your hair and hushing you to sleep.

While you may just be a regular person thrown into the hellish playground of The Entity, Adiris believes with her whole heart that you’re a gift from her gods, one that she makes sure to show how much she cherishes <3

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Myth Inspired Twst Series

Access my masterlist here. Already written:

Lilia x Dullahan MC (Oneshot)

Malleus x Light Fae Changeling MC (7 Parts- Completed)

Rook x Pygmalion MC (6 Parts- Completed)

GN terms for all!

Vil x Orpheus MC (Completed)

You're one of the ancestors of Orpheus- great poet, lyricist, and musician. However, your family is cursed to sing songs of heartbreak, woe, and sorrow until your last days due to Orpheus disrespecting Dionysus shortly before his death (his head was cut off, thrown into a river Hebrus to sing mournful songs). The gods also cursed you for all of your relationships to end in heartbreak until you find your soulmate- someone you would venture to the ends of the earth for (based off of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth). Many of your family members were driven to madness- singing songs of sorrow without having a soulmate to share them with; and many of the lovers of your family members met their untimely demise from the wrath of Dionysus. This curse is as well known as the prolific poets and bards of your family, so though people enjoy your songs- they stray away from getting romantically involved.

Despite this curse, you sing your songs with a merry tune- gaining reputation at NRC as the party person/just someone who knows how to have a damn good time. You're a hopeless romantic- falling quickly- but it all ends the same when you confess- "You know how it ends- you get it right?" . You laugh with a knowing smile- because what else could you do in the face of such absurdity?

You're childhood friends with Vil, and he's watched your heart get broken many times. Despite his feelings for you, he doesn't think you'd want to be with someone like him. The ones who did find their soulmate in your family were together with other bards, kings, heros, honorable soliders- so he thinks it's a very low probability that he's actually your soulmate- especially as he us typecasted more and more into the villan role (and is somewhat comfortable in that role with his sharp tongue, even towards you)

Slow burn ensues- friends to lovers dynamic :)

Azul x Mute Siren MC (Completed)

You used to be a relatively well-known singer in the Coral Sea, even being invited to the Ashengrotto family's restaurant on occasion. However because your mother is also a famous singer, you have a lot of her harsh standards to uphold. One day you disappear from the public eye because you are affected with the hanahaki disease- the cause of which is unknown to everyone. Azul, as a child, is worried- but you soon become a distant memory

My take on hanahaki disease is a little different- I think it could affect many types of love including familial, parental, etc. Heartbreak and unrequited love doesn't only exist in romantic contexts. When you find that you're mother doesn't truly love you- but loves you for the extension of herself that you are- you begin coughing up carnations- a flower which symbolizes a mother's love.

Finding that the flowers permanently damaged your throat after surgery- your mother sends you off to one of her sisters since you're no longer of use to her. You grow up in the Southern parts of the Coral Sea at your aunt's flower shop, before your enrollment into NRC where Azul is surprised to find you (and the slow burn begins >:) )

You speak through the language of flowers- hanakotoba- your aunt teaches you. Though no one really reads into the symbolism of flowers, Azul is familiar with it since it was one of your interests as a child.

Jamil x Shikigami MC (Completed)

As a Shikigami, you are bound to your master (an Onmyoji), to serve him until death. Shikigami are usually seen as gods, spirits, or a representation of an Onmyoji's power- so there is no escape from this life unless your Onmyoji is killed, or willingly sets you free (if you've ever seen Spirited away- they're those little paper things thay follow Haku). Because Shikigami are expendable, they're usually set up for less favorable tasks like spying, stealing, assassination, stalking, etc.

Because Shikigami are usually not able to be seen through the human eye- you show quiet signs that you don't actually have a corporeal form- like no shadow, no reflection, no footsteps, no shine in your eye, doll-like limbs. But the body that you're in actually used to be yours- which was cursed into a Shikiouji (a more elite and powerful version of Shikigami) form because you angered a powerful Onmyoji in your past life.

You are ordered by your master to enroll into NRC and kill the Kamil. However- you are stopped by Jamil, who takes you to the headmage who orders temporary in school suspension. Jamil sees your master put hands on you due to your failure- and his instinct kicks in- ordering the Onmyoji to free you. Little does he know this makes him your master now, and you trail him where ever you can.

Though he wants you to leave him alone at first, your admiration of his true skill and talent slowly begins to reveal the humanity in you, as well as bringing him out of his own shell. Enemies to friends to lovers

Lmk what you think (゜゜;)

Feel free to add!