#I'm hoping to have the story to be told in 10 chapters and possibly a prologue and epilogue

[imaginespazzi]

Part 14: The End And The Beginning

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Still a flicker of hope that you first gave to me that I wanna keep (please don't leave)

(In which an infrequently-updating writer finally didn't take a month to update)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff and I guess a little bit of Hurt/Comfort

Words: 9.2K

TW: Swearing (and I believe that's it)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 It's a little past 2 AM but y'all wanted a chapter at an ungodly hour so here it is. It's insane to think that there will only be one more chapter of this fic. In all honestly I did have ways to drag it out for a little longer but ultimately, this felt like the right path to take. I feel like some of this chapter is a little OOC (though my lovely friends have said maybe I'm just being paranoid) but whelp it was for the plot so! Like I said, ungodly hour chapters means barely any editing for now but I will go over and fix things later. In the meantime if y'all wanna point things out in terms of grammar and typos, please feel free. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see as this story comes to an end. Have a lovely rest of your day (night?) my loves <3

June 2033 

Azzi thinks she might have every detail of her rather uninteresting bedroom ceiling memorized by now. After all -for almost 3 weeks now-  instead of sleeping, all she’s done is stared up at it, her mind wandering off to a thousand places, all plagued with the same face. Azzi hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to ache as much as it had the morning after the proposal, when the regret had hit and she’d rushed into Paige’s room, only to be told by KK that the older girl was gone. The days following had been torture, like enduring a heart attack over and over again, the pain crescendoing until she’d gone numb from it. 

But last time there had been no false notions, no open-ended goodbyes, just a clean break and somehow that had been easier to live with. These last few days -filled with the unbearable waiting of maybe today she’ll come back to me- have been worse. Perhaps it’s because of the innate hope flickering like a candle within her. And even though the flame of it seems to get smaller and dimmer every time she sees Paige and the older woman still can’t quite make the promise to stay, Azzi knows that until that hope of hers is either completely shattered or fulfilled, there is no moving on from this hurt. 

Sighing to herself, Azzi grabs for her phone. The screen lights up to countless notifications and she bites her lip when she notices the one from Clémence. Dinner had been uncannily awkward last night in a way that it had never been before when the French woman had been a much more frequent presence in her and her daughter’s life. But in between Azzi being completely lost in thoughts of her and Paige’s conversation in the locker room and Stephie somehow managing to find a way to relate every little detail back to Miss Buecks and her face-falling a little every time she did, well it was suffice to say even Clémence’s attempts as making the dinner more cheerful hadn’t been enough to make the evening less of a disaster. Azzi had almost let out a sigh of relief when she’d finally dropped the other woman off at the hotel, trying to not to wince when Clémence had leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. But cleary she hadn’t been inconspicuous enough -and neither had Stephie, who’s voice had been rather devoid of her normal Clémence related cheer when she’d wished the Frenchwoman a goodnight- and the guilt from the way the other woman’s smile had faltered, still lingers in Azzi’s stomach. 

Chewing at her bottom lip, she swipes the text open. It’s a simple “it was good to see you two again.” and perhaps it doesn’t mean much -maybe Azzi’s doing that overthinking thing again- but there’s something about the formality of it, about the full stop at the end of the sentence feels rather definite. Azzi almost feels like she should apologize for something, perhaps for being so aloof last night or maybe even more. She knows that Clémence had wanted something else from her, had patiently waited for her to turn their relationship into something beyond just casual, something Azzi had never been ready to give to her. But it almost feels too late for any of that and so all she says is “it was good to see you too.” and she hopes that Clémence knows that despite everything, she means it. 

Throwing her phone back on the dresser and now feeling perhaps even worse than she had a couple minutes ago, Azzi pulls her blanket above her head, almost pleading with her brain to just shut off. She’s about to give into the impulsive urge to scream into her pillows, when instead her door creaks open and she immediately throws the comforter off of herself, reaching over to turn on her bedside lamp as she sits up straight on her bed. 

Stephie stands in the doorway, a fluffy teddy bear cuddled to her chest as she stares up at Azzi with big doey eyes and the older woman’s heart constricts when she sees the hint of sadness sitting heavily within them. Her little girl had been quiet all day -really since dinner last night. With today being a rare off day, the two of them had spent most of it lounging on the couch watching movies. But Azzi could tell something was off about Stephie. Her daughter, normally ever the commentator, had been dead silent, cuddling into her mother’s side and barely even chuckling at the comedy scenes. Truthfully, Stephie hadn’t been quite the same ever since they’d left Paige’s that morning -and with the amount of nights she’d snuck into Azzi’s room since, her mother had almost been expecting it tonight- but it seemed like something else had shifted last night. 

“C’mere baby girl,” Azzi says softly as she holds her arms open and Stephie dutifully climbs into them, burrowing her head into her mother’s chest, “what’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” comes the muffled response from her daughter as Azzi gently rubs the little girl’s back, “can I sleep here with you?”

Azzi smiles, pressing a gentle kiss against Stephie’s hair, “of course you can sweetheart,” she whispers, before falling back into her pillows with her daughter still securely wrapped in her arms. 

She continues to brush her hands through Stephie’s hair, listening to the sound of her little girl breathing as she hums a lullaby. 

“Mama,” Stephie says tentatively, after a while. 

“Yeah Stephie-bean?”

“Yes-er-day when we were at dinner-,” the little girl swallows nervously and Azzi’s squeezes her shoulders, hoping it conveys that she’s listening, ready to hear whatever it is that’s been bothering the little girl, “yes-er-day at one of the other tables, I saw- I saw a woman with gold hair and she- she had it in a bun like- like the one Miss Buecks usually has.”

Azzi’s breath hitches, “go on sweetheart.”

“And she- she was-,” Stephie drops her voice down to a whisper, “she was kissing someone who looked a lot like you Mama.”

“Oh,” Azzi manages to get out as she feels her lungs compress. 

“And there was a little girl too and they both gave her lots of kisses too,” Stephie’s voice is small as she says the fact and Azzi has to bite her lips hard to keep in the sob that’s threatening to escape her lips. And she remembers the exact people Stephie’s talking about, remembers the way her heart panged as she’d seen the way three of them -the two women and their little girl- were practically giddy around each other. They’d looked almost like an exact replica of Paige, Azzi and Stephie, not that long ago. Azzi had, had to tear her eyes away from the scene, not wanting to let the tears that were dangerously close to her waterline slip down her cheeks. She hadn’t looked in their direction again. But Azzi hadn’t even imagined that maybe Stephie would’ve noticed that too, that her daughter would’ve felt the sting of the happy picture the same way she had. 

“Oh sweetheart-”

“My friend Anya has a Mama and a Mommy,” Stephie rushes out before Azzi can console her any further, “and my other friend Lena didn’t understand how that was poss-ble cause she has a Mommy and a Daddy like most of my other friends but Anya said it’s poss-ble and that her Mama and Mommy love each other just like Lena’s Mommy and Daddy love each other.”

“Anya’s right,” Azzi says softly, smiling at how simple children make everything sound even though she’s not quite sure where Stephie’s getting at with this story, “I’m sure her Mama and Mommy love each other a lot.”

“Anya says they kiss on the lips- just like- just like the women at the restaurant and like Nana and Pops or like Uncle José and Aunty Tully,” Stephie scrunches her nose as she finally untucks herself from Azzi’s chest, “Anya says that’s what people in love do but I think it’s kinda gross cause kissing on the lips looks kinda yucky.”

Azzi laughs, booping the little girl’s nose, “it does look a little funny.”

“But Anya says her Mommy and Mama do other things too. Like her Mama takes care of her Mommy when she’s sick and when her Mama cries over a movie, her Mommy laughs but then gives her Mama a big hug. And Anya says that sometimes when Anya’s Mama isn’t looking, Anya sees her Mommy looking at her Mama with a big smile,” Stephie stretches out her arms for emphasis as she climbs off of Azzi’s lap to sit on the bed next to her. 

“That sounds sweet,” Azzi says wistfully, still a little confused why she’s being told everything about Anya’s two mothers. 

There’s a moment of silence before Stephie drags in a deep breath as she stares intently at her mother, “I never seen you and Miss Buecks kiss, Mama.”

Her words loom in the air as Azzi’s mouth falls open, everything suddenly beginning to click, “Steph-”

“But when Miss Buecks was sick, I saw you make her soup and make her eat her med-cines even though Miss Buecks said they tasted yucky. And when you cry over Mr. Olaf melting in Frozen, Miss Buecks always says ‘Az you’re so silly, you’ve seen this so many times. How can you still cry at it?’”Stephie recites, doing an almost perfect impression that has Azzi’s letting out something in between a sob and a laugh. 

“But then she gives you a big hug anyways. And Mama,” the little girl continues, “when you’re not looking, I see Miss Buecks looking at you with this big, big, big, smile all the time.” 

“Stephie,” Azzi chokes out, trying to hold herself together. 

Her daughter looks at her with something almost like wonder, “you and Miss Buecks- you were just- you were just like Anya’s Mama and Mommy?”

“Yeah,” Azzi whispers, as she grasps the little girl’s hands in her own, bracing herself for whatever Stephie might say next, “yeah I guess we were.”

But Stephie doesn’t say anything for a while, sitting all quiet and contemplative for a moment until she slowly climbs back into her mother’s arms, resting her head right against Azzi’s chest. 

“Mama,” her voice is small when she finally does speak, “I really miss Miss Buecks.”

Azzi feels her heart constrict, finally losing the battle against her tears as they drip down her cheeks, and she tightens her grip on her daughter, “I know baby. I really miss her too.”

*** 

April 2025

“What are you doing?” panic filters into Azzi’s tone as she watches Paige slowly get down on one knee, her heart pulsating as she slowly begins to understand why her girlfriend had set this whole thing up. Really she should’ve known as soon as KK and Ice had excitedly bound into her room, mischievous knowing smirks on their faces as they’d made her change into something nice before practically dragging her onto the roof. She should’ve known when she’d seen the candles and the pink roses and Paige just a little too dressed up in the midst of it all, that this was more than just one of the older girl’s lavishly planned date nights. 

Paige smiles up at her, either not hearing the distress in the brunette’s voice or perhaps not quite understanding the gravity of it. She reaches for Azzi’s hands, soft fingers entwining with the younger girl’s like their holding onto a lifeline. An unfamiliar sensation builds in Azzi’s stomach, one she doesn’t think she’s ever felt in Paige’s presence before.  

“Paige,” she whispers helplessly. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Paige squeezes her hands gently, mistaking whatever it is that Azzi’s feeling, for simple nerves. 

But it’s not that. Azzi knows this unsettling feeling that’s tornadoing around her isn’t just nerves or butterflies or whatever else it is that one normally feels before a proposal. It’s something much, much worse. Something almost like dread. And Azzi can feel all those suppressed emotions that have been building for the last couple of weeks-the whispers of thoughts that she’d brushed away as nothing serious- suddenly rushing through her body and settling like a large, immovable lump at the back of her throat. 

She remembers the first time she’d felt it, that unfamiliar twist in her stomach. It had been at a press conference after some easily won Big East game with UConn’s Big Three sitting diligently at the media-table. And it had suddenly occurred to Azzi, just as they’d finished their media availability, that she’d been asked exactly one question about her own performance -a respectable 24/4/3 statline- from the pool of reporters. Every other question of the four that had been directed her way, had been about Paige. She’d come to a stop outside the press room, letting herself sit with the thought for a second until her girlfriend -with her bright blue eyes and just-for-Azzi smile- had come bounding up to her. And suddenly, as it always seemed to be when it came to Paige, Azzi couldn’t think about anything else anymore. Not when the blonde was lacing their fingers together and putting her lips dangerously close to her ears, whispering all the sinful things they could get up to that night.

But then it happened again two games later. One question about her own performance followed by a cycle of questions about Paige during a presser where the blonde wasn’t even in attendance. This time Azzi had thought about it a little longer but then she’d chided herself for it, chalking it up to her brain doing that overthinking thing again. It was natural to be asked about teammates, especially superstar, generational, teammates who were likely to go #1 in the upcoming WNBA draft. 

And then it happened again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until it was the Elite Eight and Azzi found herself, after a 28/5/4 statline and two clutch free throws to win it all, still somehow fielding more questions about Paige -and how the blonde had impacted Azzi’s game and recovery and their relationship as best friends- than about her own performance. 

That’s when she’d finally begun to understand what that twist in her stomach had been. She’d felt sick at the idea that it could be envy -how could she ever be jealous of her Paige’s success- but she’d understood then, almost gawking at the reporter who’d had the audacity to ask her, her fourth Paige-related question that night, that it wasn’t that. Maybe it would’ve been easier if it was. 

It was fear. 

The fear that her own identity in the basketball world was slowly withering away under the weight of her relationship. 

“Hey,” Paige’s voice feels like it’s coming from a distance even though she’s right in front of Azzi and the brunette swallows hard as she tries to pry herself away from her thoughts to focus on her girlfriend. 

“Paige,” she whispers back helplessly, as her eyes begin to water. 

Every time Azzi had imagined Paige proposing -the first time had been when she was 15 and she’d woken up from the dream, almost shaking but still filled with the serene calmness that came from knowing something was inevitable- she had always in fact pictured tears in her own eyes. 

But not like this. 

Because these little droplets cascading down her cheeks that Paige’s fingers diligently reach up to wipe away aren’t the tears of a girl whose dreams to marry her best friend -the love of her life- are coming true. They’re the tears of a girl who’s bracing herself for an inevitable fight when she puts her career before a relationship, when her head wins this fight against her heart. 

Blissfully unaware, Paige continues on, “I’ve um- I’ve thought of this a million times. Actually maybe a billion or a trillion or quadrillion. Point is I’ve been thinking about it pretty much ever since I met you.”

Stop, Azzi thinks but all that comes out is a whimper. 

“So you’d think, considering I’ve thought about it that many times, I’d have an actual speech prepared or something. And I did you know. I uh- I wrote one and then I hated it so I deleted it all and then I wrote another and then I deleted that one too,” Paige laughs and the sound of it, that had once felt like a warm blanket shrouding all of Azzi’s senses, now feels a lot like a wintry chill settling around her body. 

“And what I realized,” there’s moisture pooling in the blonde’s own eyes now, “is that I don’t need a speech. I don’t need hundreds of words. I just need three. I love you,” Paige presses a kiss against Azzi’s knuckles and the other girl shudders, “I love you so fucking much Azzi Fudd. And I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”

She lets go of the brunette’s hands to retrieve a black velvet box from her pockets and Azzi bites her lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood overwhelms her taste buds. 

“Azzi Jazlyn Fudd,” Paige says softly, flicking open the box to reveal a heart-cut diamond ring, “will you marry me?”

“No,” it comes out so soft, almost blending with the wind, that for a second even Azzi doubts she’d said it. 

“”What?”

Azzi clears her throat, “no.”

“No?” Paige repeats, blinking up at her with a mixture of confusion and anticipatory dread. 

“No,” Azzi says again, her voice much stronger now as she takes a step back, the tears freely falling from her cheeks. 

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Paige, still on one knee, stumbles a little as she tries to formulate the right words, “you- you don’- no?,” her eyebrows furrow in confusion, “you don’t want to marry me?”

I do, Azzi wants to scream. 

“I can’t,” she says. 

Paige stares up at her, something akin to disbelief etched across her beautiful features, “what does that even fucking mean you can’t?”

“I just-” Azzi struggles against the jumble of thoughts in head as she tries to piece together a coherent sentence, “I can’t.”

“Bullshit,” Paige snarls. 

“Paige-”

“Do not Paige me,” the older girl seethes, her expression darkening, “you better fucking explain yourself.”

“I- I will,” Azzi stutters, trying to make herself small as she wraps her arms around herself, “can you- just,” she eyes Paige, who’s still kneeling one one knee, “can you please- please just stand up.”

Paige flinches, like Azzi has asked her to shoot an arrow into her own soul. And maybe she had. But she does as asked. The blonde’s movements are reluctant, almost like it pains her to stand up and when she does, the distance she puts between her and Azzi can’t be more than a few meters, but it feels like it stretches the length of an ocean. 

“Explain,” Paige says scathingly.

“I just-” Azzi takes in a deep breath, barely able to meet her girlfriend’s eyes as she forces out the next words, “I don’t want to be known as just your wife.”

Paige lets out an expected noise of protest, “you wouldn’t-”

“You don’t know that,” Azzi cuts her off with a pointed look, “because right now- right now sometimes it feels like all I am is just Paige Bueckers’ best friend. It doesn't matter how many points I score or how many defensive moves I make on the court or whatever else I do on the court, somehow it all leads back to you. And it makes me feel-,” she chokes on the next words, the acidity of them leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, “I feel invisible.”

“Azzi-”

The brunette holds up a hand, needing to finish what she’s saying before she fully succumbs to her emotions, “sometimes- sometimes my entire career at UConn so far feels like- like it’s just an extension of yours. Paige you- you get to be Paige. Just Paige. The superstar. You get to go to entire pressers not having to answer a single question about me or our friendship. You get to have entire articles written about you that have just a throwaway line about me and not have half of it be dedicated to how I’m the driving force behind your success. And that’s how it should be because- because as much as we rely on each other, your success is still yours. But sometimes it feels like mine isn’t mine.”

“I’m sor-”

“No!” Azzi cuts Paige off loudly when the older girl tries to apologize, guilt flashing in her eyes, “it’s not your fault Paige. You- you’re my biggest cheerleader. You always have been. But I just- I need to have my own identity. And that’s already been so hard being known as just your best friend. It’s only going to get worse if I-” she stops, unable to say the rest but even unspoken, it lingers in the air. 

If I become your fiancé. 

 “I need next year to be different,” Azzi says instead, “I need it to be my year. Just mine. Just for once, I just want to be known as Azzi.”

“It will be,” there’s a newfound conviction replacing the previous anger in the blonde’s voice as she takes a deliberate step towards Azzi. Bolstered when the other girl doesn’t instinctively move back, she takes another one and then another and another, until the seemingly never-ending distance between them disappears. 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Paige says softly as she gently holds one of Azzi’s hands between her own, “and I hate- I hate that you feel this way. But it’ll be different next year when we’re not on the same team anymore right? Out of sight out of mind type shit? They won’t- they won’t ask you about me or make everything you do about me anymore-”

“You don’t know that-”

The older girl continues like she didn’t hear the interruption, “I just- I just don’t understand why you can be known as my girlfriend but not my-” she swallows, “but not my wife? Because Az- when we come out-,” the girl in questions flinches and Paige pauses, her expression falters at the movement. 

A deadly silence clouds the air and it’s April in Connecticut and the spring breeze is just the right temperature. But as Paige slowly lets go of her hands, realization dawning on her face, Azzi thinks she’s never felt colder in her life. 

“You- you don’t-” the blonde looks at her almost accusingly as she takes a step back, “you don’t want to come out?”

“Paige-”

“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”

Azzi casts her eyes downwards, digging her fingers as deeply into her palms as possible, “no, no I don’t.”

“I see,” Paige says slowly, her tone dangerously low, “and how long have you felt this way Az?”

“I-I-” the brunette stutters nervously, “I made- I made the decision after the Elite Eight.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Paige says calmly. 

“I don’t- I don’t understand-”

“How long Azzi?” the blonde sneers, “how long have you had all the fucking doubts about your identity and our relationship? How long have you been questioning everything about us? How long have you bee going through this whole fucking decision-making process about our future?”

“That’s not-”

“Oh no,” Paige interrupts harshly, “that’s exactly it. That’s exactly what you were doing. So tell me. How. Long?”

Azzi gulps nervously, “since the game at home versus Nova.”

Paige blinks at her, “three months? Three fucking months Azzi. You’ve been feeling this way for three months and you didn’t once think that maybe you should tell me? That maybe we should talk about it?”

“I didn’t know,” Azzi says helplessly, “I didn’t even understand it myself Paige. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t even know there was something to discuss.”

“But clearly you did figure it out, Azzi. Because I know you and I know you didn’t make this decision without figuring your emotions out, so why not come to me then? Why not tell me as soon as possible. God fucking hell Azzi- when even were you gonna tell me?” Paige yells, all pretence of calm gone from her body, “if I- if tonight hadn’t happened, when would you have even told me?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything and Paige shakes her head, starting to pace around the rooftop. 

“We had a plan Azzi. We’ve had a plan for four years. As soon as one or both of us was out of UConn, that was it. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just you and and me and we weren’t gonna care who the fuck knew about it,” the blonde pinches the bridge of her nose, “and you’re telling me that for three month- three fucking months- you’ve been questioning that whole fucking plan while I remained oblivious as fuck? Azzi all I’ve done these past few months is tell you how fucking excited I was about being able to call you my girl in front ov everyone. How excited I was to hold you in public and for us to just be us without giving a fuck who could see. And you just,” Paige’s voice breaks, “you let me. You let me do all of that- feel all of that. You let me be hopeful for a future that you weren’t even sure you could see for us.”

Azzi looks away, that rock of guilt settled in her stomach starting to get heavier and heavier with each word that leaves Paige’s mouth, “I’m just asking for a little bit more time Paige.”

“And what happens if that time doesn’t go the way you want it to Az?” Paige asks sadly, “what if we survive the next year but you decide that you can’t be attached to me to start your W career?”

“That won’t happen-”

“You don’t know that,” a sardonic smile appears on the blonde’s face, “I can’t keep hiding forever Azzi. All I’ve done is love you in secret. I can’t- I don’t- I won’t do that forever.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Azzi bursts out, her defensiveness suddenly translating into a burst of anger, “I am asking you for a little bit of time. Not even a whole year anymore. Just a little bit of time for me to establish my own identity and honestly Paige if you can’t even give me that- if you can’t understand why I need this time- then maybe-” she stops herself, eyes widening at the words -word she’d never even expected herself to think of - that are now sitting, like burning embers, on the tip of her tongue. 

“Then maybe what?” Paige asks slowly, but there’s an almost resigned tinge to her tone that suggests she already knows. 

“No,” Azzi shakes her head, turning away from the older girl’s piercing gaze. She looks down at the ground, still covered in rose petals. The wax of the glittering candles littered between them has melted onto them, causing their pink hue to turn into a darker shade of red. And it’s like there’s blood scattered on the remnants of Paige’s perfect proposal. 

“Say it Azzi-”

“No-”

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to,” Azzi covers her ears and she wishes this were a nightmare, wishes she could open her eyes and find herself waking up in Paige’s arms. Warm and soft and loved. 

“Godfuckingdammit Azzi,” Paige yells, “just say it. If I can’t understand why you need time then maybe we should what?” she repeats, waiting for the brunette to finish her own sentence. 

Azzi whimpers, continuing to shake her head, “Paige please.”

“Just. Fucking. Say. It.”

The younger girl swallows, “then maybe we should end it.”

Another beat of silence. 

“Maybe we should,” Paige’s voice is gravelly and Azzi doesn’t dare turn around, not ready to see the heartbroken expression -or worse, perhaps the nonchalant one- on the older girl’s face, “if after all we’ve been through, if it’s so easy for you to think those words. Then maybe we should- maybe we should end it.”

And Azzi thinks for the rest of her life she will wonder what she should have done next. If she should’ve said something or if -when she hears those retreating footsteps- if she should’ve run after her. She thinks, for the rest of her life, she will look back on this moment and dissect every single second of it, that she will wish for the time machine to go back and stop herself from doing and saying so many of the things she had on the rooftop that night. 

But Paige walks away. 

And Azzi doesn’t do anything to stop her. 

It isn’t until the morning after -when her head does finally catch up to her heart and all she can feel is that unfamiliar sting of regret- and she races into the apartment downstairs and Ice’s expression is filled with sadness and KK’s glare is filled with accusation, that she finds out just how far Paige had gone away from her and Azzi realizes, she’s just a little too late. 

*** 

June 2033 

There’s a redhead and a brunette, holding hands and chatting quietly as they wait outside the school. The two women are clearly entrenched in their own world -sharing those warm gazes and bright smiles that Azzi’s just a little too familiar with- blissfully unaware that they are currently being stared at. Actually, perhaps glared at is a more accurate statement because there’s a clear tinge of envy running down Azzi’s spine as her eyes remain laser-focused on the scene in front of her. She hadn’t meant to be doing this of course -nobody really plans to come to pick up their daughter from school and somehow end up stink-eying said daughter’s friends parents for being too in love. But as fate would have it, somehow from where she’s parked, Azzi has a perfect view of Anya, infamous Mommy and Mama. 

They’re sickeningly cute.

And Azzi fucking hates them.  

It’s unfair of her to feel this way; she knows that. But watching them lead the life she’d always imagined for herself, is more difficult now than it ever has been when Azzi had seen them before in passing. Back then, it was just a dull ache of something she craved but knew she’d turned away herself. But now- now she’s had a taste of that life; had gotten to live it out -even if just for a second- with the girl she’d always dreamed of living it with. Until one night and a series of revelations had snatched it all away, and now Azzi’s left with nothing but the bitter feeling of waiting to see if she’ll get that back forever or if it had really only ever been meant to be a fleeting moment in her life. 

A sigh of longing escapes her as she watches Anya go rushing into her mothers’ arms, the two of them catching her in perfect sync. She has the resentful urge to scoff at the scene. It’s all so goddamn dramatic for three people who see each other every day. Except Azzi’s mind is filled with memories that are almost exact replicas of the scene in front of her; just with different faces. 

“Hi Mama,” it isn’t until the backdoor opens and Stephie’s voice fills the car that Azzi finally tears her eyes away from Anya’s family. 

“Hey baby,” she choruses back, turning around in her seat to make sure her daughter is buckling herself in correctly, “how was your day?”

“It was okay,” Stephie shrugs and Azzi feels her heart plummet at how nonchalant the little girl sounds. She misses the sound of her daughter ranting about just how booooring school is, and thinks she wouldn’t even try to reprimand her if Stephie deemed school useless like she used to. Azzi just wants her ball of sunshine, talks-a-mile-per-minute child back because this meek, quiet little girl in the back feels like a shell of who Stephie used to be. 

“You excited for Mama’s game tonight?” Azzi presses as she starts to back out of the parking lot, almost relieved when it seems to cause Stephie to sit up a little straighter. 

“You’re- you’re playing the Liberty right?” the little girl asks quietly, “that’s- that’s where Miss Buecks wanna go? New York?”

Azzi freezes at the question, trying to keep her hands steady on the wheel as she hums in agreement. 

“They’re a good team right? Lots of champ-ships and stuff?” Stephie continues. 

“Yeah,” Azzi clears her throat, “it’s uh- it’s definitely gonna be a good game.”

“Anya’s Grammy and Grandpa live in New York. Not the city-city but close to it,” Stephie says after a moment, “Anya says New York’s really nice. She’s been there lots and lots of times to see her Grammy and Grandpa forChristmas. And she- she says when she went, it snowed lots and lots.”

Despite herself Azzi smiles as her mind drifts to memories of cold Northeast winters. For the most part, they had been filled with dreary chills and darky rainy days. But then amidst it all, there had been a couple rare days of snow and when she’d been at UConn, her teammates had taken full advantage. And just like most of her memories of those years, Paige is front and center of these ones too. The blonde had never been nearly as enamored with the snow as Azzi was, and she definitely wasn’t enamored by it at seven in the morning when the brunette would wake her up squealing that it had in fact snowed and the world around them was white. Despite her grumbling, Paige had still let Azzi bundle the both of them up in winter clothes and drag her outside. And her faux irritated expression hds slowly morphed into one of admiration as she’d flicked the snow off the younger girl’s eyelashes, pulling her closer by her scarf because Azzi I’m so cold, you have to kiss me to keep me warm baby. 

“We don’t get snow here,” Stephie says thoughtfully, unaware of the path down memory lane her mother had just taken. 

“No, no we don’t,” Azzi says, almost wistfully. 

“It would- it would be nice to live somewhere with lots of snow,” Stephie ponders out loud and her mother’s eyes widen as she starts to understand where this is going, “like- like in New York.”

“We could- we could have snowball fight and make snowmen like Mr. Olaf and snow angels and everything else you do in snow,” the little girl’s voice gets increasingly more and more high-pitched in excitement, “it would be so fun Mama.”

“Steph-”

“And Anya said that- that- that- she’d even visit me like she visits her Grammy and Grandpa. She promised Mama, she promised she’d come see me if I lived in New York-”

“Honey no,” Azzi cuts her daughter off heartbrokenly, “we are not going to live in New York. 

“But Mama, Miss Buecks-”

“Stephie stop-”

“No Mama listen,” Stephie protests indignantly, “Mama what if- what if Miss Buecks really needs to be in New York. What if it’s impo-tant. And that’s- that’s why she can’t stay here. With us. Not cause she doesn’t want to but cause she can’t. But Mama just because Miss Buecks can’t say doesn’t mean we can’t go Mama.”

“Sweetheart-”

“And you- you just said the Liberty is a good team and you’re such a good player Mama. I think you’d be good on their team too. And I- I really, really like the Valk-ries and I would really miss Aunty J and Aunty Tessie and Aunty Joy but if you- if you and Miss Buecks played for the Liberty- I know I’d like them too. And I’m sure Nana and Pops and Uncle Jon and Uncle Jose and Aunty Tully would come visit us lots and lots and I wouldn’t even miss them lots cause they’d visit so much. I just know it. It could work Mama- I know it could.”

“Stephanie,” Azzi's voice is louder than she’d meant it to be as she pulls onto their street, “sweetheart, we are not moving to New York.”

“But Mama-” the little girl whines. 

“No Stephie. That’s just-” Azzi swallows the sob stuck in her throat, “that’s now how the world works.”

“But what if I want it to work that way?” Stephie asks softly with all the innocence of a five-year old as she meets her mother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi’s so caught up in her daughter’s earnest wishful thinking that she doesn’t even notice there’s another oh-so-familiar car parked in her driveway until she almost crashes into it. 

“That’s Miss Buecks car,” Stephie whispers softly, craning her neck to get a better view. Her eyes widen in tandem with her mother’s as they both catch sight of the same thing at the same time. 

It’s Paige. 

Paige, whose eyes are sunken in and red-rimmed. Paige, whose hair is tossed back into a messy bun -looking like it’s been in that same one for days- with little loose strands falling out of it. Paige, whose entire body is hunched over as she sits on their front porch, holding a grey hoodie close to her chest. Paige, whose hands are fidgeting with themselves because she can never sit still, especially when she’s nervous. Paige, who looks up just as Azzi parks her car -whose staring at the both of them like they’re still her everything. Paige, who despite it all, still looks like the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Paige, who’s here. 

It’s Stephie who recovers from the shock of seeing Paige first, the click of her seatbelt being unclasped pulling Azzi out of her own trance. The little girl pushes her door open, getting out of her car seat with quickness as she stumbles out of the car. 

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out immediately but Stephie isn't listening, already rushing up the pathway as Paige -her expression hopeful- stands up at the sight of the child running towards. 

It isn’t until Stephie hesitates, coming to a halt just a couple of meters away from Paige, that Azzi draws in a deep breath and gets out of the car herself. Unlike her daughter, her steps are much slower, her movement hesitant and guarded. She knows this is it; knows that this is when all that waiting she’s done in the past few weeks will finally be over, that Paige is either here to fulfill a dream or to start a nightmare. 

Azzi walks up the pathway until she’s right behind Stephie, one of her hands instinctively reaching out to hold her daughter’s shoulder, conveying two messages. One to Stephie, a promise that no matter what happens now, she’ll still always have Azzi. The other to Paige is an unspoken message from a protective mother, silently begging her that if she is here to break their hearts, to break Stephie’s gently. 

“Hi,” Paige’s voice is croaky when she speaks, her eyes flickering nervously between the mother and daughter in front of her. 

Azzi clears her throat, willing herself to reply, “hey,” she pauses, continuing only when the older woman keeps her own mouth shut, shuffling her feet nervously, “do you- do you want to come in?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her cheeks reddening at how quickly the word leaves her mouth and that almost makes Azzi smile. 

She nods at the older woman, her hand travelling from Stephie’s shoulder to instead hold her hand as they walk up the steps together. Azzi’s shoulder brushes against Paige’s as she moves past the blonde to open her door and electricity courses through her veins. From the way Paige gasps, the brunette is sure she must’ve felt it too. It crackles in the air as Azzi unlocks the door, her brain feeling foggy at the mere feeling of having Paige so close after so long. 

The three of them walk quietly towards the living room, Stephie’s hands still clasped in Azzi’s and Paige following closely behind them. The little girl’s grip is tight and despite how young she is, Azzi knows just how perceptive Stephie is. She’s just as aware of this moment as the adults are, realizes it just as much as they do, that they’ve reached a crossroad and the path they take -a path determined by whatever Paige chooses- will shape their future together or apart. 

“I um- I- well- the thing is- I-,” Paige breaks the silence first, stuttering over her words before letting out a soft sigh She closes her eyes for a second and when she opens them, there are little droplets of water on the edges of her eyelashes. 

“I really missed you guys,” she confesses in a whisper, her voice breaking throughout. 

There’s a second of silence as her words linger in the air and Azzi feels Stephie’s hand slip away from her own and the little girl almost stumbles over her own feet as she races towards Paige, the older woman’s arms immediately opening to catch her and as she kneels down to pull Stephie into her her chest. It’s like the blonde’s confession had broken a dam, and the water that came rushing through it, had washed away the last little bit of pretence of nonchalance that Stephie had been holding onto. 

For the last few weeks, every time Azzi’s little girl had seen Paige, be it when she accompanied her mother to a practice or when she was on the sidelines at a game, Stephie had ignored the blonde, maintaining the same angry façade as the one she’d had the morning after that night. But Azzi had seen that resolve weaken over time; had seen Stephie’s eyes linger just a little bit longer on Miss Buecks with that familiar look of yearning. And Azzi had known that resolve was almost completely gone, in the car, when Stephie had all but begged her to consider moving to New York if that was the only way they were going to be able to keep Paige in their lives. 

She feels her own set of tears prickling in her eyes as she takes in the scene in front of her. Stephie’s face is pressed into Paige’s neck, the blonde has one arm wrapped around the little girl’s waist and the other other gently brushing through her hair. Their grip on each other is tight with barely any space for air between them, tears freely streaming down both of their faces. 

“I missed you too Miss Buecks,” Stephie sobs and Azzi notices the way Paige’s hold on her tightens at the familiar nickname, “missed you so much.”

“Me too Stephie-bean,” Paige affirms as she coaxes the little girl’s face out of her neck, cupping it in her hands, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. So, so, sorry. I missed you so, so, so, so much,” she says, punctuating each word with a kiss to Stephie’s face in between. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie looks down nervously, her fingers playing with the collar of Paige’s t-shirt, “can me and Mama come to New York with you?”

“Stephie!” Azzi exclaims as Paige’s eyes widen. 

“Wh-what?” the blonde asks softly as she searches the little girl’s face in confusion.

“I don’t want you to go,” Stephie says quietly, “but if you have to- then can we come with you?”

“Oh sweetheart,” there’s disbelief in Paige’s tone, something almost akin to awe as she tilts Stephie’s chin to make the little girl look back at her. 

“My friend Anya says New York’s nice,” Stephie rambles, repeating what she’d been telling her mother in the car, “and-and-and she says there’s lots and lots of snow and I told Mama that I think it will be nice to live in lots and lots of snow. Mama hasn’t said yest,” the little girl briefly looks back at Azzi with a sheepish look on her face before turning back to Paige, “but I know- I know we could cov-ince her because Miss Buecks, Mama’s missed you so, so, so much too.”

“Has she?” Paige asks, her eyes flickering to Azzi who’s trying desperately to keep her face neutral as she keeps her own gaze firmly fixated on a picture of her daughter on top of the mantle. 

“She has,” Stephie confirms, before using a finger against the older woman’s cheek to get her to return her attention back to her, “so can we come with you? Please.”

Paige slowly tucks a strand of hair behind the child’s ears as she shakes her head, “no.”

“N-no?” Stephie’s bottom lip trembles at the rejection, “why not? Why can’t we go to New York with you?”

“Because nobody’s going to New York, Stephie-bean,” Paige says firmly and Azzi’s eyes shoot towards the blonde, her lips parting slightly as she processes the meaning behind her words, her heart beginning to race with anticipation. 

“Nobody?” Stephie repeats as a question, her little voice filled with hope. 

Instead of answering, Paige grabs the grey hoodie she’d brought with her that had fallen to the ground. She gently un-scrunches it, holding out the sleeve of it for Stephie to look at. Azzi cranes her head curiously to get a better look of it, squinting her eyes when she notices something written in washed-out black ink. 

“You probably don’t remember this because you were a lot littler when it happened,” there’s a teasing smile of Paige’s face as she uses the incorrect word, “but the first time you ever spoke to me properly, you told me, that your Mama says that one day, you’re gonna be an even better basketball player than she is.”

Stephie beams, “Mama says I’m gonna be the best in the world today.”

Paige chuckles, “I believe it and I believed it then too. That’s why,” she points down at the hoodie, her fingers brushing over the material so delicately, like it’s one of her most treasured possessions, “that’s why I had you sign my hoodie.”

“You asked for my auto-graph?” Stephie’s eyes glint and perhaps she doesn’t quite remember what Paige is talking about exactly, but Azzi can tell that it’s stirred up recollections of something. 

“Yeah- yeah I did. And you said, ‘silly Miss Buecks, I’m not famous’ and I said, ‘but if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, you will be. Just like me and your Mama.’ And I meant it. You’re gonna be so- so great one day sweetheart. I know you are,” Paige says with conviction as her thumbs lightly caressing Stephie’s cheeks, “and I- I wanna be right here every step of the way, I wanna be right here to watch you grow up and become the great player -the great woman- that you’re destined to be.”

“You mean it?” Stephie asks, her eyes shining with a fresh new set of tears.

Paige nods, delicately wiping her thumbs under the little girl’s lower eyelid, “I do. I wanna be here, with you and- and your Mama,” she raises her head toward Azzi, mustering a watery smile, “I want to stay. Forever. If you’ll have me.”

Azzi lets out a staggered breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as her eyes remain locked with Paige’s. And suddenly, after eight years spent feeling unfulfilled -eight years spent with this constant sense of being incomplete-, hearing Paige finally say she wants to stay forever, feels a little bit like as if that missing part of Azzi has finally returned back to where it rightfully belongs. 

A loud squeal echoes throughout the living room as Stephie leaps back into Paige’s arms, a large smile stretching the length of her whole face as she buries her face back into the crevice between the blonde’s shoulder and her neck. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” the little girl chirps excitedly, “of course we’ll have you. Of course, of course, of course,” Stephie says in delight before she turns herself slightly in Paige’s grapes, arms still around the other woman’s neck as she looks imploringly at Azzi, “right Mama?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, pursing her lips as she tears her gaze away from the two people in front of her. 

“Mama?” Stephie presses. 

“Give me a second Stephie-bean,” Paige whispers to the little girl, bumping her head against her temple. 

From the corner of her eyes, Azzi watches as the blonde disentangles herself from Stephie, before slowly getting to her feet and walking towards the younger woman. 

“Az-”

“It’s been almost three weeks-”

“It’s been two weeks, six days, five hours and around fourteen minutes,” Paige shrugs, a hint of a smile playing on her face, “give or take a few minutes.

Azzi continues to look away from her, trying to keep her face devoid of emotion, “still took you a really long time to decide you were gonna stay.”

“Well I’m an idiot,” Paige says matter-of-factly and Stephie snickers behind her, “you know me Az. Sometimes these things- they take me a little while to understand.”

“I told you we wouldn’t wait forever,” Azzi says softly. 

“I didn’t make you wait forever,” Paige reaches out to gently grab her chin between her thumb and index, turning the brunette’s face towards her, “just needed a little bit of time.”

“You didn’t give me time,” Azzi accuses and the blonde flinches. 

“I know. I- I should’ve. Should’ve don’t a lot of things differently when it comes to us but I didn’t and I- I can’t change that but Azzi, I promise, I promise I’ll do everything right this time,” keeping one hand cupped around Azzi’s cheek, Paige uses the other to guide one of the brunette’s hands to rest against her chest, “I swear.”

Azzi swallows, feeling the quick rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat under her fingertips, “how do I know you won’t run away again?”

“Because I trust you,” the blonde whispers, “I trust you to stay and I trust you not to break my heart again. And that- that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared anymore- cause I am. Not a lot but definitely still a little bit. But someone once told me that, trusting is really scary but that maybe- maybe it would be a lot less scary, if we did together.”

“They sound like a really smart person,” Azzi bites her lip, “you should probably listen to them more often.”

Paige chuckles, “well if uh- if they give me the chance, I think I’d listen to them for the rest of my life.”

Azzi shudders and she doesn’t know if it’s from the earnestness of the words spoken or the strength of the emotions in the blonde’s gaze that’s still completely transfixed on her. 

“What about New York?” she asks finally. 

“I called the whole thing off,” Paige states nonchalantly,“I had Talia call Jonathan Kolb last night and I explained everything to Ohemaa this morning. Everyone’s on the same page. There is no deal anymore.”

“You-” Azzi gapes at the girl in front of her, “you- you already called the whole thing off?”

“I did,” Paige confirms, not a hint of regret in her voice, “I don’t need an escape plan.”

“You called it off before even talking to me?” Azzi asks, knitting her eyebrows together, “you didn’t even know how this was gonna go.”

“I already told you. I trust you,” Paige says simply, “I believe in us Az and I really hope you still believe in us too.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Azzi’s crashing into her, the weight of her body sending the blonde staggering back a few steps before her hands steadily secure themselves around the younger woman’s waist. A slightly surprised gasp escapes Paige until the sound of it is stolen by Azzi pressing her lips against the older woman’s. Despite her initial surprise, Paige kisses Azzi back with equal fervor, both of them pouring the myriad of suppressed emotions between them the last few weeks into it. And it feels like a cliché, like coming home. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Paige breaks away first, eyes widening as she slowly turns around to look at Stephie who’s practically vibrating with happiness as she watches the two of them, “Stephie-”

“She already knows,” Azzi says with a slight grin, shaking her head fondly at just how joyful her little girl looks. 

  “You told her?” Paige looks between the mother and daughter. 

Stephie smirks triumphantly, “I figured it out myself Miss Buecks.”

“Of course you did smarty pants,” Paige smiles at the little girl but Azzi knows her well enough -is still so in tune with every little bit of Paige despite the time apart- to see the small hint of disappointment behind it. 

“I would’ve told her myself if she hadn’t,” Azzi says quietly and Paige turns back around to face her. 

“What?”

“I love you,” Azzi says and she swears no three words have ever sounded as right on her lips, as those three do, “I love you,” she repeats again and she can feel Paige’s hands shaking as they instinctively tighten their grip on her waist, “I love you so much Paige Madison Bueckers and I want everybody to know it. Stephie, our families, our friends, our teammates, the whole world. I love you and I never wanna hide that. I want everybody to know that you’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.”

A strangled sob escapes Paige’s mouth as she presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “I love you too. I love you, so, so, so much. I’ve loved you since the beginning and I’m gonna love you till the very end. Forever.”

Their lips meet in a searing kiss and it’s unclear if they’re both crying more or giggling more, as they hold each other as tightly as possible. And this isn’t their first kiss, far from it- far closer to being their millionth or so- but still it feels like a fresh new start, a brand new love story but with that same old special, all-consuming, forevermore love that has always connected them to each other. The one that had never gone away, no matter how long they’d been apart. 

“Ahem, ahem,” an exaggerated cough breaks them apart and the two of them turn their heads at the same time to see Stephie looking dramatically at them, her hands on her hips. 

  “So, Mama loves Miss Buecks and Miss Buecks loves Mama. What about Stephie?” she pouts, exaggeratedly stomping her foot. 

Paige and Azzi both laugh, removing themselves from each other just enough to crouch down and open their arms out for Stephie, beckoning for her to join their embrace. The little girl’s attempt at a sour expression is immediately replaced by a cheerful grin as she runs into their arms, tiny hands somehow managing to wrap around both of their necks. 

“You know we love you the most Stephie,” Paige whispers into the little girl’s hair, who lets out a content sigh as she burrows herself further into the two women’s arms. 

Azzi hums in agreement, closing her eyes as she leans her head against her daughter’s, feeling Paige’s fingers intertwine with her behind Stephie’s back. And then it’s quiet for a while, nothing but the sound of the three of them breathing and their hearts beating together in sync. Azzi feels at peace, her mind completely calm, no longer overthinking anything. 

Because now she finally has everything. 

Paige, Stephie, and the promise of a world the three of them can build together, it’s everything. 

[masquerade-v]

So what's with the new name change?

So I changed the name of the story from Blood Moon Lagoon to GAMMON for a few reasons:

Quicker to type out [I'm lazy lmao]

The word 'gammon' has two meanings that I'm using. The first one is that it's a cut of pork prepared in a particular way. The second is a slang term meaning to be deceitful or to be fake [it's an informal British term.]

The first definition is related to a key concept, cannibalism, in the story and how I plan to use it as an allegory for morality [I hope I'm phrasing that right. What I mean is that i plan to write characters who commit this act along some other bad actions and why they do it, if it is out of necessity, ego, or something else]. It's definitely a morbid story, I know that, but it was going to be so for a long while now. Admittedly, this is going to need some tweaking but the general concept is the same.

As for the second definition, a lot of characters are going to be deceitful in one way or another, be it to each other or to themselves. [Once again going into the whole morality thing.]

I'm still in the process of working out some stuff, seeing what can and can't work. But this is what I'm willing to share for now. If there's any confusion I would be glad to help clear it up!

[onehoplessromantic]

B. Bradshaw | Masterlist

Top Gun - Maverick

Updated: 12/18/2024 [link check]

!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily

Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.

peace!

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Series

☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor

13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍

Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming

12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...

☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank

3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.

☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04

4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.

☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor

8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds

1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️

Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)

☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank

2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?

☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls

13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!

☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls

10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️

A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement

☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor

3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Oneshots

☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose

wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️

teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end

Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.

☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28

wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing

Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far

☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04

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swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme

The one where the deployments become too much.

☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank

wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍

angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader

Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.

☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28

wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst

You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.

☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley

wc: idk | 🌧️🤍

angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending

You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.

☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds

wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️

heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick

Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)

☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing

The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.

☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍

smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more

The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.

☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank

wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍

tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic

the title says all you need to know

☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank

wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍

accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader

It’s a drabble, I cant say much…

☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor

wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍

fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it

You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.

☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser

wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍

tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley

just read it goddamnit 🥹

☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines

wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍

drinking, arguments, angsty feelings

Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.

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ⓒ onehopelessromantic, December 2024

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 7/10

Story summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Chapter summary: Having brought Tav home, Astarion has a conversation with a member of her family.

Tav surprises Astarion by coming up with an unusual way to keep her promise.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story, I've been trying to work on my writing. Hope you like this chapter! ❤️

“My, my... What mischief did she get up to tonight?” Mamzell Amira looked at him carrying Tav with thinly veiled interest. The woman was dripping in jewels, fine fabric whispering tantalisingly against skin as she lifted her hand to grasp Tav’s chin. Turning the girl’s head sideways, she appraised her appearance before letting go with an inaudible sigh.

“Thank you for bringing her back. You may enter,” she said pointedly, giving him a long look.

Their eyes locked and Astarion scowled.

“Oh, don’t pretend to be so sensitive that you feel offended at being given orders.” She raised an eyebrow and cocked a hip, shifting her stance gracefully.  “Come. We have some things to discuss.”

Astarion did not want to follow the woman, especially when her words sounded more like a command than a request. He has had enough of that in the past two hundred years, being compelled to do Cazador’s bidding. Instead, Astarion told himself that he chose to follow the woman through a concealed entrance that was clearly not meant for the clientele.

They walked down a narrow, winding corridor. Wood creaked underneath their boots, and unlike the areas where clients were entertained, there was no plush carpet to swallow up the sound of their steps. They turned once, then once more. There were no guests, just servants and staff in various states of undress that hurried past quickly. Perfume and incense mixed with the scent of sweat. Giggles, sighs, and groans revibrated in near unison, creating an atmosphere where inhibition was replaced with uninhibited expression of debauchery. Anything for coin. Every fantasy was possible within these rooms, if one could afford it.

Amira stopped in front of a door, unlocking it swiftly and beckoning for Astarion to follow before closing the door behind him. He felt power and saw the door glow. Arcane lock. No way out unless she permitted it.

The elf gave the room a cursory glance. It was pleasantly decorated and seemed like a personal space, where one would relax rather than receive company. One could even call it cosy.

Astarion was just about to set Tav down gently on the plush sofa when a servant appeared and plucked Tav out of his arms as if she weighed nothing, whisking her away. Magic hummed and the servant was gone.

“Sit. Let me have a look at you.” Amira lowered herself to a half recline on a chaise longue, motioning for him to sit in the chair across from her.

She appraised him unabashedly in a way a butcher would look at a prized turkey and clicked her tongue.

“You are a looker. It’s no wonder that she follows you around like a little lovesick pup. She never spoke of you, of course. She never tells anyone anything. But I have my sources,” she said casually, pouring herself some wine into a beautifully crafted gold goblet. She did not offer him any.

“We have been watching you, vampire. Oh, yes. I know what you are.” Mamzell Amira did not seem to be fazed by his scowl and the hard, hostile look shot in her direction. “And if you were any less careful than you have been, you would have been dead in a ditch somewhere,” she took a sip and hummed, apparently pleased with the taste.

“Is it a threat?” Astarion bristled, his hackles raised.

“A threat? Oh, no, my dear, dear frightened boy,” she said with mock concern, her fingers casually dancing over the rim of the goblet. “We all have to watch ourselves, really. This one comes from a very prominent family. An illegitimate child, of course. But potentially an important chess piece. And with no official heir still and Tav turning sixteen soon, her worth just keeps going up!”

Mamzell Amira took another sip of her wine, letting the silence stretch. It was surprisingly quiet in her quarters, considering all the activity that was going on at Sharess’. There was most definitely an enchantment of some sort. He supposed a woman as rich as her could afford the services of a good mage.

“Why hide her in a brothel, of all places?” Astarion was the first to break the silence. “Why not send her somewhere in the countryside? Somewhere far away from the vultures?”

Amira scoffed, as if she had never heard something so ridiculous.

“Oh? And have her turn out a sweet, unassuming country bumpkin? How short-sighted would that be! If she is to run with the wolves, she must know how to show her teeth. Her killing that merchant came as a surprise; I would never have guessed that she had it in her,” she said, sounding proud rather than concerned.

“Besides,” she went on, looking away from him with an unreadable expression, “her father was one of the favourites at Sharess’. Shame about what happened to him, really. Such potential simply wasted. But these things happen when one is careless and gets mixed up with powerful people.”

So, a child of a prostitute and a noble. It wasn’t unheard of, although they had plenty of potions and spells to make sure there were no accidents. This meant that Tav’s mother wanted to have a child enough for her to choose to conceive. The fact that her father was now dead, he presumed, possibly meant that the decision was not well met. Either her mother was foolish and naïve, or wanted to get something out of it. Either way, lovers were disposable. Children could serve a greater purpose down the line. Therefore, there was a very strong possibility that Tav’s family had her father killed. Possibly an accident, a carefully orchestrated charade of an investigation, and then nothing.

“There is not much that the child is fit for, unfortunately. Absolutely talentless. Quite useless. The head of the family was most disappointed by her daughter. Yet, this one may have her uses still. Or just turn out to be the goose that lays the golden eggs,” she said nonchalantly, as if she were discussing inconsequential nothings rather than a child broken by the power games that the patriar families of Baldur’s Gate were playing.

Mamzell lifted herself up higher on the chaise longue, crossing her long, lean legs as she poured herself more wine and popped a grape into her mouth.

“She is still a child,” Astarion spat, incensed at her words about Tav. Was there really no limit to how vile the world could be? “What kind of family allows one of their own to get hurt in such a way? Are they prepared for the scars that this would leave?”

“Life lessons always leave scars. Life is pain. Life is loss. I have no reason to stop her from making mistakes, not when they burn so profoundly, so horribly.” Her smile turned wicked, making a chill run down his spine.

“You are not Mamzell Amira, are you?” He flinched as she barked a laugh.

“Oh, so the spawn can think! Bravo! Yes, the real Mamzell is asleep. She is useful but quite simple. Though that is true of most, of course,” she gave a longsuffering sigh. “Don’t expect me to snap my fingers and show my true form. To reveal myself to the likes of you, to what end?”

She seemed to be finished with the conversation, rising gracefully and walking towards the door.

“Consider this conversation as me sizing you up and finding you lacking. Then again, my disappointment of a granddaughter could not have found herself a more fitting friend. You may leave, spawn.”

“I’m assuming you are going to tell me to stop conversing with Tav, aren’t you?”

“Whatever for? As I said, life lessons always leave scars. The ones that she will get from choosing you for a friend are going to be beautiful, I’m certain.”

Astarion rose stiffly, ruby eyes trained on the woman in front of him. He was not an expert when it came to family relations, yet he was sure that perhaps Tav was better off having no family at all rather than being under the tutelage of this monster who masqueraded as a woman. Tav had a heart. This villain certainly did not.

“Tav. Such a strange name. I wonder why she picked it?” She said more to herself than to Astarion. In any case, the woman seemed to be quite finished with him.

“Grab that man on your way out, won’t you? You have to deliver someone to that Cazador. And seeing as you are still useful, I have no reason for wanting you to be locked up. Off you go,” she dismissed Astarion with a wave, facing away from him as she looked out of the window. Leaving one’s back unprotected in this way whilst in close quarters with a vampire would be considered foolish or borderline suicidal, if it wasn’t for the fact that they both knew that he wouldn’t be able to take a step in her direction without being crushed. There was so much magic in the room that it made his fangs itch and his insides twist. He was no threat to this creature, who was apparently related to Tav.

And so Astarion hoisted whatever soul was unfortunate enough to be captured on this night up on his shoulder and left without another word. After all, what else was there to be said?

Astarion did not see Tav for several months after that. Not that he ever sought her out specifically in the past, but he did find himself glancing in the direction of the brothel as he passed by, looking up at the roofs of the houses that hugged the streets of Rivington in case he would see her perched somewhere on an upper floor.

Astarion rarely noticed change; timeless creatures stuck trudging through the years rarely did. Yet even he soon noticed that the days were growing shorter, the first whispers of autumn filling the air. As the city was shrouded in red, gold, and orange, Astarion and his siblings haunted its streets, plucking victims like overripe fruit. Still, there was no sign of the child that used to follow him around. Astarion was not sure how to feel about it.

The earthy smells of autumn soon gave way to the first chills of winter, its cold breath making streets clear of anyone idling the hours away. Clutching their collars closed, Baldurians hurried down slippery streets to seek shelter in taverns, where Astarion and the other spawn waited for them with warm wine and heated promises.

And just like many times before, it was Tav that found him, surprisingly by Elfsong, so far from where she was previously able to go. Astarion quirked an eyebrow as he walked out of the tavern to see her leaning against the wall. For whatever reason, the enchanted band round Tav's ankle no longer shackled her to the streets of Rivington.

“Hi,” Tav said timidly, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “I- I am sorry about what happened when I saw you last. It’s quite embarrassing, really.” She gave a high-pitched, nervous laugh, shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting to look at anything but his face.

It was strange that most of all she was worried what he would think.

Tav was dressed in layers of black with shimmering red and gold hexagon patterns. The fur-trimmed collar was high, buttoned up to the very top, and the clothes would be almost shapeless if not for the cleverly hidden buttons and ties that held the structure in place. Cloth rustled softly against cloth as she moved. Unlike the clothes that she wore before, this outfit made her look older. Or perhaps that was not it. Perhaps there were some other imperceptible changes that one could not immediately put a finger on.

“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asked, walking away but not so fast that she couldn’t follow.

Tav shrugged and scrunched her nose, as if it hadn’t occurred to her to analyse how she felt until he asked.

“I think I’m okay. I don’t know. They brought a healer, and I guess I feel better. I can still remember what happened vividly, but it feels like it happened to someone else. Weird, right?”

“At least I can pick my own clothes out now. Apparently, you have to literally kill someone round here to get someone to respect you,” she joked weakly.

“Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I wanted to thank you. Thank you for looking after me then, I mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, “your debts just keep stacking up. I suppose you would have no choice but to follow me around long enough to repay them.”

“It would seem so.” Tav smiled a little. It was a weak attempt, but it was better than blank looks or tears. Astarion was pleased that she was holding it together much better than he thought she would.

“Also, I found this in my bag.”

Tav stuck her hand into her brocade bag, once again making Astarion wonder what sort of enchantment would make for such a useful accessory and where one would learn it. Rummaging about, she produced a handkerchief. It was a little crumpled, squashed, and full of untidy creases and folds. Tav straightened it with utmost care, revealing the all-too-familiar embroidery.

“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” Astarion stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

She didn’t bother to pretend to believe him.

“I never get Midwinter presents. Or any presents for that matter. Not even once.”

“I mean,” she sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, “I get things for me to use delivered, and the tailor now comes to Sharess’ for me to choose my own clothes. And I get plenty of money to spend, but I- I never actually-” she cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know that this means a lot. It’s beautiful.” She gulped when she found that her fingers were shaking and squeezed the handkerchief to her chest.

Astarion found that he was quite unprepared for such genuine gratitude. It wasn’t that special, not compared to the extravagant ensembles and jewellery she wore. He simply had a bit of time on his hands and needed a distraction. So, he embroidered her name and a pretty, delicate butterfly perched on a flower using some red thread.

The handkerchief was dreadfully plain, but Tav looked at it with such open adoration that he felt his shoulders relax a touch.

“I love red. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Well, that is simply a coincidence.” Astarion turned away with a huff. “I had no intention of choosing red, just something I had rattling about in my drawer.” Children were ridiculous creatures. Showing their emotions so freely. Someone really ought to teach Tav not to wear her heart on her sleeve like that.

“Still, I love it. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Well, when one’s standards are so low, it is not difficult to surpass expectations,” he shot over his shoulder.

“By the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten our deal. In fact, as you stopped accepting the potions, I’ve got something else that’s even better.”

She took a scroll out of her bag.

Circling him, Tav grasped his hand tightly. She curled her pinky finger around his, stated that it was perfectly safe, and then proceeded to mutter something he couldn’t make out. The scroll glowed warmly and disappeared, specks of power settling over their hands and then seeping under skin.

“What in the hells was that?” Astarion slapped her hand away with a hiss and took a step back. It didn’t hurt in the least, but he did not know what Tav’s definition of ‘perfectly safe’ was.

“A promise spell,” Tav said breezily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Beg pardon?” he questioned incredulously. Because surely she did not just make him a ‘pinky promise’ out of all things! How very juvenile and how very Tav.

“I promised to set you free and get rid of Cazador, but words just ring a little hollow. And the spell creates a magic bond between the caster and another willing creature-"

“Well now, I don’t recall being asked!” Astarion all but hissed. “Surely you could have thought this through for five minutes! Or at least have given me a warning!”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she scrunched her nose and frowned, as if the thought hadn’t really occurred to her.

“Well, what’s done is done, I suppose,” Astarion gave a longsuffering sigh at her visibly chastened look and commended himself on having the patience of a saint. “Besides, if I am to bear your company, I might as well know that it is all for a worthy cause.”

Tav’s mouth quirked into a smile. Seeing as Astarion didn’t look angry anymore, it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little.

“By the way, look what I can do now.”

She waved her hand, and all lights in the streets wavered, the colour cooling and turning purple, bathing the street in a pretty, if eerie, glow.

“How’s that for a fun party trick?” Tav boasted, clearly very pleased with herself.

“Cute,” he scoffed. “But hardly useful.”

He had to admit, for a child that seemed to take pride in the fact that she slept through most of her spellcasting lessons, she seemed to have performed the trick easily enough.

“I can do all sorts of things now. Not sure why, but doing magic has become much easier since- since that merchant died,” she finished weakly and swallowed.

Astarion supposed this was the part when he was meant to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and impart some words of wisdom. Except he was not the type to do either, so his silence would have to do. Luckily, Tav seemed to snap back to reality quickly enough.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! I got Ebony back!”

One had to admire how easily Tav bounced between emotions. Although keeping up with her changing moods would be enough to give one a headache.

“Dare I ask who is Ebony?” He drawled with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched some drunks stumble past them. He ought to follow the two humans; they seemed the type that could be coaxed to come with him with nothing but promises of free wine and a straw mattress to sleep on. Yet, he stayed to listen to childish prattle.

“Ebony is my dog. Used to ride her around when I was about five.”

“And why would I be interested in some mangy, flea-bitten animal?” Astarion let out with a smirk still on his lips.

“Hey! Ebony is a beauty! For your sake, I will tell her that you were joking when you called her that.”

Ah, there she was. No trace of sadness in her blue eyes. A useless victory that warmed his undead heart.

“And where is that dog of yours?”

“Oh, somewhere about. She comes and goes as she pleases, unless I actually call her. She likes her independence.”

Just wonderful. A potentially mad child followed about by an apparently invisible dog. He sure knew how to pick his acquaintances.  

“Whatever is happening to me, I think it is a good change. I can feel myself growing stronger. So just wait a little longer, Astarion. We will be free.”

She blended into the shadows, making him blink in confusion as it became hard to focus on her. It was as if she became one with darkness, making him once again wonder. Wonder if by some unimaginable stroke of luck he actually managed to find himself a half-useful ally.

The pale elf looked down at his hand, noting that if he focused on his fingers, he could see the faint glow around the smallest digit.

“A promise spell,” he mumbled to himself softly.

He hadn’t heard of anything like it. Which made him wonder, what exactly was this mystical pact that he found himself a part of? And what set of circumstances could possibly lead to this promise being fulfilled?

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[bunnydolllies016]

Lab of the Damned

Chapter 1: Welcome Mc, to A.M.L!

(This is the first chapter of the main story of the Obey Me! Dark lab au! Be warned that future installments will include more gore and violence. The mc/reader is GN, so it'll be Obey me x Gn! reader. TW: Blood, dark themes mentioned, describes some violence.) Chp. 1 (you are here), Chp. 2(Coming soon)

"Greetings Mc!

We are sending you this letter regarding your application to work at Angel's Medicine Laboratory. We are so happy to welcome you to the A.M.L family! Please come into our main building as soon as possible through the hours of 8 A.M to 10 P.M for a tour and to sign your work contract. We'll provide you with your own living space as well so please bring your dear belongings.

We here at A.M.L. can't wait to meet you in person! We hope you'll love becoming part of our family.

Hope to see you soon,

Simeon Angel."

You couldn't believe it, even as you continued to hold the letter in your hands you couldn't believe it was real. You squealed happily and hugged the letter close to your chest, you can finally help make the world a better place! All the struggle throughout high school and a four-year college would finally be worth it. Also, you won't have to live with your parents anymore! You waste no time texting your parents the news, receiving congrats and support in a matter of minutes as you begin to pack up your more important items. Different outfits, some family photos, and anything else you held dear and wanted to keep with you. In the end, you had a backpack and gym bag full of stuff as you began to head out. By now your parents had rushed home to see you off and say their goodbyes. You got in your car and were off, it took you thirty minutes to finally reach the main building and it was around 1 P.M now. You sped-walked into the main building with your bags in hand, stopping to face the lady at the reception desk who seemed to be drawing something out, looked like some elaborate trap. You coughed to get their attention. The woman faced you, their pink rooted hair bounced a bit, and the blue in it looked like a good contrast to the pink. Their green eyes stared at you as they began to speak.

"Good Evening, Welcome to A.M.L., who are you and what do you need?" Their tone sounded slightly annoyed. 'Rude much?' you had thought to yourself.

"Hello, My name is Mc. I'm here for my tour and to sign my contract. Do I sign it here or?...." You say as you wait for their response. Instead, their neon green eyes look you up and down before they pick up their phone and dial a number. You hear them mumble your name over it before the person on the other line hangs up first.

"He'll be down here to get you and greet you shortly, please stay still and wait." They say before going back to drawing whatever they had been before you interrupted them. You decide to look at their name tag, 'Thirteen', what a weird name. Before you know it you see him, your eyes lighting up with recognition. Simeon Angel himself has come to greet you!

"Ah! You must be Mc!" He had begun to speak before a small bark sounded from his bag. You looked down at it just to be greeted by a light blonde chihuahua in a white hat. 'cute..' you thought to yourself. Simeon coughed before he chuckled. "Don't mind Luke, let's go to my office so we can get your papers signed," he says before motioning you to follow him into a nearby elevator. "Just leave your bags here, they'll be taken to your new living quarters by some fellow employees," Simeon states as he steps into the open elevator.

"Of course sir!" You say and do as told, dropping your bags in a nearby chair, and watching as they're taken by two mysterious people before you follow the slim male into the elevator. Eventually, you find yourself sitting at a desk, Simeon Angel behind the desk and in front of you. 

"Well Mc, I'm happy to congratulate you in person! I have your contract right here, please do sign it." The man says with a smile as he hands you a clipboard, your contract on it. You briefly read it, not really paying attention to the details, he definitely wouldn't be hiding anything dark in this contract, right? You sign the contract and hand it back to Simeon, who smiles at you and stamps it, confirming you signed it. Simeon speaks up as he takes Luke out of his bag to roam his office, "Thank you! You're the most perfect person for this role! Here take this." The male before you hands you a watch, it looks... weird, you put it on anyway, and once on your wrist, it locked around it. "Don't worry about that! It's just waterproof." Simeon says, his smile still kind and bright as he stands up and motions you to follow. He leads you out of his office, leaving Luke in it as he takes you to go get your uniform and badge. You take the bag containing your clothes and ID, smiling at Simeon before you speak up,

"Thank you, sir!" You begin with a soft smile, "Which part of the lab will I be working?" You miss it but a dark look crosses Simeon's face as he softly smirks.

"I'll take you down there now!" Simeon responds as he motions you to follow again. As you walk with him, you notice he's taking you to a darker part of the building, it somewhat looks hardly used. He stops you at an elevator and digs out a badge, using it to call the elevator. "Your department is top secret, as stated in your contract you can not talk about this work with anyone at all, we'll know if you do." He says, his voice having a somewhat dark undertone despite the soft smile on his face. "Now come along, the tour begins now!" Simeon states as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, you waste no time in following him.

You feel nervous the lower the elevator goes and decide to speak up, "So, why is the department I'm in on such a low floor?" You ask nervously with a small smile, trying to think of what kind of work you could be doing down here. You jump as the elevator stops with a thunk, not expecting the elevator to sound like, especially when the rest of the building is so modern and well-built.

"Well Mc, you will be a caretaker of sorts for our... subjects... I know it won't be too much for you to handle! They're sure to love you..." Simeon says as the dark look on his face is still present, but he still is smiling. You raise a brow, didn't A.M.L claim to not use animals as product and medicine testers? "This is the entrance hall, where you'll use your watch against that machine to clock in." He speaks softly as he points to a machine in front of the both of you. He walks forward and expects you to follow of course. Your eyes widened as you entered the next area; It was a long hallway of some sort, different testing chambers on either side. As you walk beside Simeon you aren't listening as he speaks about each room. Your heart is full of fear and dread as you see what, no, who they are testing on. In the testing room, before you stands a man with white hair in a lab coat, a sinister and sadistic look on his face as he uses a cattle prod to poke and taze a much taller man with black hair, his red eyes showing displeasure and disgust for the man prodding at him, he doesn't even flinch as he is tazed, no spasming or reaction at all came from him, his clothes were disheveled from the prodding though. That wasn't the weirdest part of the man, no it was the very pointy ears, the black horns coming from his head and the four wings coming from his back, all pitch black and some feathers clearly missing, whether it be from this kind of abuse or stress you can't tell.

"W-what the fuck?" You stuttered out as you stepped away from the glass on the testing chamber, not seeing the amused expression Simeon flashed your way.

"That is one of the nine subjects you will be looking after! His name is Lucifer, he is one of the best "demons" we have!" Simeon states as if he is just talking about the weather and not a fully grown man he's having his employees test on.

You stare at the dark-skinned male before you, a look of shock and fear across your face as you speak up in a confused but fearful voice, "Nine? Demons? Huh?" Just as you were about to continue before loud crashing, low growls, and yelling interrupted you; they came from down the hallway. Looking over revealed more "demons", specifically two certain ones fighting. One was a dark-tanned male, with slightly pointed ears, a full head of white hair, and blue eyes that had a golden-yellow gradient. He has horns that look somewhat like spirals atop his head, large bat-like wings come from his back and they flap violently. He's on top of the other male, throwing punches as different scientists try to pry him off the man below him. The male below him has pale skin, and what seems to be scales on it in certain places, he, like the two before him, has pointed ears, but his seemed to have two different pointed ends, somewhat like fish fins. His hair is a blueish-purple color and his eyes are a glowing orange with a purple gradient, the whites of his eyes seem to be a slight grey color. His horns look like coral and are a black color but have a hint of blue to them, he also seems to have a long lizard-like tail.

"Ah, Mammon and Leviathan are at it again. We'll have to punish them...again..." Simeon says, his tone showing distaste but amusement at the chaos around him as he ignores your comment. A door behind you opens and you turn to check it out, you are horrified at the man who stood behind you. He had to be about 7'5 in height alone, he was so muscular and well-built, with a muzzle around his mouth and his hands cuffed in front of him as he looked down at you with interest; he was sniffing you through the muzzle. His hair is a bright orange, his ears pointed but droopy, and he has purple eyes that seem to fade into magenta and then red, one of the whites of his eyes isn't white, but rather an inky black color. Scars litter across his body, along with weird black markings, he has black horns that curve and almost crown his head, fly-like wings coming from his back buzz softly as he continues to stare down at you. "Beelzebub! Now, Now, stop drooling into your muzzle at your new caretaker's scent! Mc this is Beelzebub, Beelzebub this is Mc, your new caretaker!" Simeon says to the towering male standing before them, who looks at Simeon with a somewhat blank expression, you can see some fear and pain in his purple eyes as he stares at Simeon.

"Wait a damn minute please!" You cry out to Simeon, finally catching his attention, and now Beelzebub, who watches you closely but with clear hesitance. "I can't possibly work here after seeing all of this! This is s-so.. so.. fucked up!" You said as you took several steps away from Simeon.

Simeon stopped smiling, his expression dark and serious as he spoke, "You don't have a choice, you signed a two-year contract with us. You're stuck here...unless you'd rather face certain consequences for trying to go against your contract." As he spoke the watch around your wrist tightened and its screen flashed red. By the look on Simeon's face, you knew the consequence of going against him would either be death or the same fate as the subjects you'll be in charge of.

"B-but- I-" You tried to protest but Simeon put a finger to your lips to hush you, a sinister smile on his own lips.

"Shhh, Mc. You already signed away your life to me." Simeon began to speak softly, but his eyes showed sadistic amusement at your internal conflict about all of this. "If this really had bothered you..." Simeon begins again, Beelzebub looks at you sadly and with pity as a guard begins to walk him back to his containment chamber, he can tell you're a good person who just got caught up in a bad situation, he can only hope you stay a good person in here. "Then you should have read the fine print." Simeon finished speaking with a cold smile as he looked down at you. Dread filled you completely, these two years weren't going to end well.

"Welcome to A.M.L, Mc. I can't wait to see all the good work you'll do."

(Well I'm not sure when I'll be able to work on chapter 2, I just started my psychology class, so I'll try my best to work on it when I can. Hope you enjoyed it! This is also posted on my AO3 account and shouldn't be anywhere else but here and there.)

[aylacavebear]

The Traveler Masterlist

You're from a specific dimension, Solaris Eclipse. It was a dimension of magic. When your kind, the Eldrathiren, turned fifteen, your unique power would awaken within you. Most times, it was something small, levitation, teleportation, creation, elemental manipulation, and things like that. Once in a while, a fifteen-year-old would just disappear, and those were called Travelers. None of them had ever returned. Your parents had told you stories about them, and you hoped that wouldn't happen to you.

Each Chapter will have its warnings. Pairing Eventually Dean Winchester x OC Reader & Sam Winchester x OC Reader.

A/N: If you'd like to get in on the Dimensional Traveling, go to this link and leave me with a comment, or several, with as much or as little detail about the dimension you'd like the Traveler to end up in. If you'd like to have something specific happen, share that too. I'll make sure that you get credit for the idea you shared in the chapter in which your dimension is featured. I'd love to have as many readers involved as possible. I think this could be a lot of fun.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list.

A/N: 3/31/24 - have to edit the tags a bit, as this one is writing itself in a way I hadn't seen, nor meant for it to go.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 - Earth, 1997 Pt. 1 Chapter 3 - Earth, 1997 Pt. 2 Chapter 4 - Twilight Veil Chapter 5 - Crystalis Canopy Chapter 6 - The Shadowed Abyss Chapter 7 - Earth, 2013 Pt. 1 Chapter 8 - Earth, 2013 Pt. 2 Chapter 9 - Aqualumina Chapter 10 - Levithar Labyrinth Chapter 11 - Earth, 1999 pt 1 Chapter 12 - Earth, 1999 pt 2 Chapter 13 - Earth, 1999 pt 3 Chapter 14 - Wonderland pt. 1 Chapter 15 - Wonderland pt. 2 Chapter 16 - Wonderland pt. 3 Chapter 17 - Wonderland pt. 4 Chapter 18 - Mechoria pt. 1 Chapter 19 - Mechoria pt. 2 Chapter 20 - Mechoria pt. 3 Chapter 21 - Mechoria pt. 4 Chapter 22 - Earth, 1999 & Mechoria Chapter 23 - A World Between Worlds Chapter 24 - Earth, End of January 2002

(There will be more, and I'll be posting these again as soon as I'm done with Wonderland, which has been a joy to write.)

Tag List: @littlemadamred @mxltifxnd0m @foxyjwls007 @supernaturalfreakout @roseblue373

@flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @hobby27 @megs-gadom

[wingedcupcaketimemachine]

The Mystery of the Barnet Clan Harry Potter x Reader Series

First Year Chapter 9: The Mirror of Erised

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Harry discovers a mirror that shows his deepest desire.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5,796

Story Starts Below Cut

Chapter 1

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

Series Masterlist

Harry Potter Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find. itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.

It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying,too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. (Y/N) had decided to stay as well since her parents would be busy working at the Ministry of Magic.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it. 

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoys cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose -- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him --"

“Don’t be stupid, Ron,” said (Y/N), shaking her head, “He’s not worth the trouble.”

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to -the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree -- put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here -- I've told yeh -- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere -- just give us a hint -- I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin, said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said (Y/N), and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," said Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on -- out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, (Y/N), Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other three had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after A, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks. Five minutes later, (Y/N), Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads.

They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron, "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

Once the holidays had started, Ron and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork -- bread, English muffins, marshmallows -- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly likeMuggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family -- in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him." On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Harry. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, “What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle -- so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and -- oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next two presents also contained candy -- a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione, and a large package of Treacle Tart from (Y/N).

This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is -- they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is -- try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words: Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in, with (Y/N) trailing behind.. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He would tell (Y/N) later, but didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look -- Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. (Y/N)’s sweater was the same emerald green as Harry’s with her initial on it.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

“Come on, Ron,” said (Y/N) teasingly, “Maroon brings out your eyes.”

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid -- we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?” Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I -- don't -- want,” said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George, "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce -- and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non expandable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

Harry, (Y/N), and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.

Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.

His father's... this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something held him back -- his father's cloak -- he felt that this time -- the first time -- he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.

A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence -- the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside -- stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section."

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him -- the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.

He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket -- but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed -- for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder -- but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air -- she and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes -- her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green -- exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.

Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -- Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

"You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly.

“You two could have at least told me about the cloak,” said (Y/N) irritably.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror,” said Harry.

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

"You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?

“Ron may be right,” said (Y/N) thoughtfully, “I can’t imagine that there’d be a mirror with the sole purpose of showing people’s families. It must do something else.”

"Are you all right, Harry?" said Ron. "You look odd."

What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron and (Y/N) covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Harry hissed. I know it's here somewhere."

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here -- just here -- yes!"

They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I can't see anything," said Ron.

"Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them...."

"We can only see you, Harry," said (Y/N).

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" asked Harry.

"No -- I'm alone -- but I'm different -- I look older -- and I'm head boy!"

"What?"

"I am -- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to -- and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup -- I'm Quidditch captain, too.”

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at (Y/N) and Harry.

“Let me look,” said (Y/N), switching places with Ron.

“What do you see?” asked Ron, “Are you on the Quidditch team too?”

“Yes,” said (Y/N), “But my parents are there too.”

(Y/N) gazed into her reflection in the mirror. She had won the Quidditch cup, like Ron, but, for some reason, she wasn’t alone. Her parents stood on either side of her looking proud as she beamed.

“Maybe it means your parents will watch you win the Quidditch cup next year,” said Ron moving back in front of the mirror, "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it?” asked Harry, “All my family are dead -- let me have another look --"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me --"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron, (Y/N),  and Harry stood quite still, all thinking the same thing -- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe,” said (Y/N), “She might have gone for Filch. I bet she heard us. Come on."

And she and Ron pulled Harry out of the room.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?" asked (Y/N).

"No... you go..."

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror,” said Ron, “Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it -- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione."

“He is right though, Harry,” said (Y/N), “We already had a really close call last night. Do you really want to risk it again?”

"I'm serious, Harry,” said Ron, “Don't go."

But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron and (Y/N) weren’t going to stop him. 

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.

Except --

"So -- back again, Harry?"

Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.

" -- I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, Sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It -- well -- it shows me my family --"

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy, and your friend (Y/N) sharing her accomplishments with her parents."

"How did you know --?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently, "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want… whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. (Y/N) Barnet, who never sees her parents as much as she likes, seeks their validation and praise. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry stood up.

"Sir -- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore

might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 10

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

When morning came, you sat up in bed and stretched, for once glancing at the clock without fear. It was your day off, and you intended to enjoy it as much as you could, starting with sleeping in.

You climbed lazily out of bed and walked into the kitchen for breakfast. Vartan was standing by the table, fully dressed. You blinked and tried to focus your vision. "This is unusual," you commented, eyeing his uniform.

"I would like to leave the apartment today."

The words came bluntly, steadily, like someone banging a sharp rhythm on a drum. You heard them, could not possibly mistake them, but still you leaned against the counter and said, "What?"

"I would like to leave today," he repeated, seeming somewhat confused by the need to say it again.

You stared at him for a second, then crossed your arms over your chest. "Alright. Go on. I'm not making you stay or anything. You barged in here to begin with." At some point you realized your hands were balled into fists. Why were you so angry?

He looked at you blankly. "Am I troubling you?"

You frowned. "No, but you're standing here acting like you're asking for my permission to leave. What do you want me to do? Beg you to stay?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should watch your tongue, that arguing with a half-breed was never a good idea, but you just couldn't stop yourself.

He still looked rather confused. "I thought I did need your permission. I am living in your home. You still have the right to make me return to the Tower."

It was your turn to look confused. "Wait, what are you talking about? How can I make you return to the Tower if you're going back there today anyway?"

"But... I am not going back to the Tower today," Vartan said.

"You just said you want to leave today!"

"Yes, I would like to leave the apartment for a short while. There is a place I would like to visit."

You immediately reddened. "Oh! Sorry! I totally misunderstood you. Yeah, you can go out for a while. Just don't let any of my neighbors see you."

"Of course," he replied, seemingly oblivious to your embarrassment. He walked toward the door, then stopped and looked back. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Uh, that kinda depends on where you're going," you said.

"Don't worry. I will not be seeing any of my kind."

You smiled. "Okay, then. Just give me a minute to get dressed." You left him to wait in the kitchen while you went to your room to pull on some jeans and a white cotton shirt. The neckline was a little low, with small, thin lace trim. You had been told by Terrian and Anna, on separate occasions, that you looked especially nice in white. You fixed your hair then looked in the mirror. You smiled to yourself, satisfied with your looks.

Would Vartan be satisfied? Why did you even think that question?

You met him in the kitchen, and he nodded to you without a word. You felt a tinge of disappointment. He didn't even seem to notice that you looked better than usual.

He opened the front door, and you edged past him so you could look both ways, making sure no one was in the hall. When the way seemed clear, you headed toward the stairs and motioned for him to follow. You did the same thing on the ground floor, thankful that your apartment building was never very crowded to begin with.

Once you were outside on the street, Vartan took the lead. You followed nervously behind him as he walked along the pavement. You tried to keep a small distance between the two of you, so that you could easily separate from him if he ran into any of the other half-breeds. You were unsure how they would react to seeing him with a human, and you didn't want him to get into any more trouble than he already had.

Luckily, the walk through town was uneventful, and soon the two of you were standing in front of an incredibly tall, crumbling building. You looked up toward the top, squinting your eyes against the red haze of the sky. It was probably the tallest building in Gallica, aside from the Tower.

"Is this it?" You asked, hoping you didn't sound disappointed.

He nodded and stepped through the open doorway. You followed, and together you and Vartan climbed several flights of stairs. They were steep, and in such disrepair that you occasionally had to skip a step that looked unsafe. The walls were cracked and filthy, covered in long faded graffiti. There had been a handrail at one point, apparently, but it was mostly in broken pieces now. 

After reaching the sixth floor, you grabbed his arm from behind, signaling him to wait. You sat down on the steps and panted. "Sorry, I need a little break."

He sat down beside you and watched you patiently. There wasn't so much as a drop of sweat on his face, and his breathing was completely even. "Take as long as you need," he told you. 

"You half-breeds are pretty amazing. Do you ever get tired?"

"Sometimes," he replied, looking away from you.

"So what's at the top?" you asked, pointing toward the roof that looked so very far away.

"Nothing important. You will see."

You stared at him curiously, wondering what he wanted to show you. He met your gaze and you blinked. "Um, how many stairs do we have to climb?" you asked quickly.

He stood up. "I will carry you."

"What?"

"I will carry you the rest of the way. Stand up."

You got to your feet slowly and he turned his back to you, squatting slightly. You stared at his back, a wave of heat spreading through your face, under your skin. Your heart raced. It was such a silly thing, getting a piggyback ride from him, but you had never really touched him before. Not outside of sewing up his wound or helping him to a cot.

He looked at you over his shoulder. "Get on," he said flatly.

You carefully reached forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed your body against his back, and lifted your knees until he took hold of them and stood up straight. You were immediately surprised by how effortless he made it seem. He didn't so much as grunt as he climbed the rest of the stairs with you on his back.

The whole way up, you couldn’t shake the bizarre feeling of familiarity. Like a phantom memory that was too hazy to remember clearly. 

When he reached the door to the roof, he eased you back to your feet. You looked at the floor, red creeping into your cheeks. "Thanks," you said.

He gave no response as he opened the door and walked out onto the roof. You followed him to the ragged fence at the northern edge and stood beside him as he looked out over the city. Not too terribly far away, you could see the Tower, and at this height, you could make out more of its details than ever before.

As you had thought, the top of the tower was connected to the very center of the dome, like a support beam. What you didn't expect to see, however, was a large mechanical device protruding from the top of the tower. It resembled some kind of cannon pointing upwards, and a gazebo-like room surrounded it. You could barely make out a single half-breed standing near the device, like a soldier standing guard.

"What is that?" you asked.

Vartan followed your gaze to the device. "It is the machine that operates the dome."

"Well, I kinda guessed that. How does it work?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he responded. "I know that the Pagoda's technology powers it, and every three years we must recharge it."

"And why is it being guarded?"

"In the past, humans have tried to reach the machine and destroy it, believing they could escape the city if the dome was removed."

Your jaw dropped. "That's crazy! Everything's frozen outside! If they turned the dome off, we'd all die!"

"Yes, and that is why we guard it. Even we half-breeds could not survive for very long without the dome. I believe some humans think we are lying about the outside, to keep them from trying to escape."

You were quiet then. For the very first time, you understood why there might be a need for the half-breeds. Still, their ruthless behavior couldn't be overlooked. You glanced at Vartan, whose eyes were fixed on another section of the Tower, slightly lower down.

"Do you see those vehicles?" he asked you, pointing to an open floor a third of the way down the Tower. On it, you could see several things that you could only describe as misshapen cars with no wheels and far fewer windows. You nodded and he went on. 

"Those are called Flyers by the half-breeds. They are capable of traveling through space. The Pagoda use them occasionally to visit the mother ship. Half-breeds are not allowed to touch them, but we do see them being flown from time to time."

You were listening intently. This was the most Vartan had said in the entire time you’d known him.

He paused to look at you, then turned his eyes back toward the Flyers. "I... often think about... climbing into a Flyer and leaving this world."

Your eyes widened. You watched Vartan's face as he continued to stare at the Flyers, and you saw a hint of longing there, a hint of despair. You didn't know what to say to him. You were terrified of saying the wrong thing, something that would make him regret sharing such a private thought with you.

He looked at you again, and there was still a shade of sadness in his usually unreadable eyes. "I do not know why I wanted to bring you here, but thank you for coming with me."

"I'm glad you brought me here," you said. "I'm glad I got to know a little more about you."

He looked mildly surprised. "You want to know about me?"

You felt the familiar blush heating up your face. "Well, yeah. You're living with me and all."

"I see," he said. "I will tell you anything you want to know."

"Anything?" you asked, somewhat skeptical. He nodded, and your mind flew into a frenzy as you tried to decide what you most wanted to know. A million questions popped into your head, and you struggled to quickly sort them out. Suddenly you remembered Nariah's story about her mother. "Do you know anything about your human parent?"

Vartan's face seemed to freeze instantly, and you winced, certain you had asked the wrong thing. He looked back toward the Tower. "My mother was human," he started, speaking slowly as if carefully choosing his words. "Half-breeds are kept away from their human parents, because the Pagoda do not want us to be influenced by our human sides. Most human parents are killed anyway."

You nodded, having already heard most of this from Nariah. You said nothing and waited, making it clear that you wanted him to go on.

"My mother was kept alive for several years after I was born. I have a younger brother. He lives in a different domed city, and I only see him every so often. It’s been two years since we last met. We share both a mother and a father, which is rare among us."

You continued to remain silent, eagerly waiting for more.

Vartan's eyes were still fixed on the Tower. "I did meet my mother, if that is what you want to know. On the day she was scheduled to be executed, she somehow escaped from her cell and ran through the Tower, searching for me. She found me by spotting my father walking into my room. When she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me and began crying. She said she had to see me at least once before dying."

You were struck by the difference in Vartan's tone compared to Nariah's. Something about his voice seemed calm, almost nostalgic, as he recounted the story.

He finally turned his face to you as he finished. "I do not know why, but my father did nothing to stop her as my mother held me. She whispered many things into my ear, telling me that I am human, that I should never forget my humanity, that this is my world too. My father only spoke when she asked him where my brother was. The Pagoda guards rushed in after that and pulled her away from me. They dragged her out of the room, to be executed. As she disappeared into the hall, she screamed to my father, 'Please take care of our child!' and they were the last words I heard from her."

You waited for a moment, to be sure he was done talking, before speaking. "It sounds like your mother was very brave."

Vartan nodded his head slightly. "I find my memory of her... comforting. That is strange, isn't it?" he asked you. "A human would be troubled by such a memory, of watching their mother be dragged away to death. A Pagoda would not feel anything at all. I feel I am... different."

It occurred to you that it was that brief meeting with his mother that made Vartan different. In those small moments in which his mother had held him in her arms, she had managed to awaken something in him - something human. "Maybe you find it comforting because it reminds you that you were loved," you told him gently. "Your mother must have loved you a lot, even before seeing you, to go to those lengths to meet you."

Vartan lowered his eyes. "I could not return her love. I didn’t know how. I never even spoke to her. I was motionless the whole time she was there."

"I'm sure she understood. She loved you, no matter what. She told your father to take care of you, right? Speaking of which, isn't it strange for your father to allow her to hold you?"

Vartan's expression changed slightly, from a flicker of sadness to a flicker of something like pride. "My father is strange among the Pagoda. He is often criticized by the others for being eccentric. There was a rumor among the half-breeds that my father is not one hundred percent pure Pagoda, that his distant ancestors had mated with another race. I do not know if this is true or not. There were also rumors that his relationship with my mother was viewed as inappropriate somehow."

You smiled, amused by the fact that Vartan seemed pleased with his "eccentric" father. Perhaps Vartan's human-like behavior was a result of his parents, both of whom seemed rather extraordinary themselves. "He sounds like the only Pagoda I'd ever want to meet," you said. "What do they look like, by the way?"

"They look much like half-breeds," Vartan said, "but they are taller, with longer arms and legs. Their eyes have many colors, all on each eye. They wear dark robes, and keep their hair very long."

You found yourself trying to picture Vartan's father, a tall man with long black hair and rainbow eyes. The image just looked silly, so you changed the subject. "There is one more thing I'd like to ask. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he answered, eyes on yours.

You tried to think of a way to word your question. You had been wondering for some time now about how many women Vartan had been with. As Terrian had said before, a half-breed with a willing human was rare, but you had difficulty imagining Vartan raping someone. Then again, you would have had trouble imagining him tearing a man's head off if you hadn't seen it first hand. You took a deep breath and looked him in the face. "Have you had sex with lots of women?"

He quickly looked away, as if embarrassed, and you dreaded his answer. He kept his eyes on the ground as he opened his mouth to speak. "No, not 'lots'. One."

"One?"

"I have been with one girl."

"Why only one?" you asked, the question popping out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. Half-breeds were known for their carnal exploits. They seemed to be far more hormonal than humans, and that was saying something.

He seemed highly uncomfortable with the topic, but he answered you anyway. "I did not find it to be a pleasant experience. The girl... was crying. I was very young, younger than her, but she probably thought I was older. The other half-breeds told me what to do, and I followed their directions. I did not know why she was crying. Just before it was over, I realized that she was crying because she did not want to..." He stopped talking there, unable to finish the sentence. He paused, then continued. "I did not enjoy it, doing such a thing to that crying girl, so I did not do it again."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. Vartan had been just as much a victim as the girl, he'd been a child manipulated into doing something he would feel guilty over for the rest of his life. You reached out and placed a hand lightly on his arm. "You can't be blamed for that. You didn't know what you were doing."

He looked at your hand. "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

You reddened. "Um, have you ever thought about trying it with a human who wants to do  it?”

He looked at your face. "I have experienced physical desire, yes. And I have wondered what it would be like, with a girl who is not crying."

Your face burned a little more as you asked the next question. "Have you felt any, uh, desire for me?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Really? When?"

His voice was still mechanical. "When I woke up in the clinic and saw you in your underwear. When you looked straight at me in the alley and told me I owed you. When you came out of your room the morning after I came to your house. When I woke up that evening to find you standing over me."

You were shocked. All those times, he'd given no indication that he felt any attraction to you at all. He must have been holding himself back because of his past experience with sex. You couldn't resist smiling. You felt a surge of confidence. "If you thought I wanted to, would you want to be with me?"

He seemed surprised by the question, his eyebrows raising as he looked at her. "Yes."

That was all you needed to hear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his. He slowly lifted his hands and placed them on your back, carefully and gently, obviously unsure of the action. For several seconds, he remained rigid and still, to the point that you began to feel embarrassed. Then, as if he had simply been waiting to be certain you really did want this, he suddenly pressed himself against you, his hands moving over your body, his mouth hungry on yours. It was like a dam had broken, and all the desires and needs and aches came pouring out, washing over you.

Half-breeds were supremely hormonal creatures. Vartan, you discovered, wasn't quite as different from the others as you first thought.

He peeled off your clothes in a hurry, as if waiting even one moment to see your body was agony for him. When you were stripped bare, you stood before him, blushing and crossing one arm over your chest. You’d seen him naked before, so you knew. He was perfection, and you… you were human. 

But when you worked up the nerve to look at his face, you found him staring at you with an expression of awe, a look you’d never seen a half breed wear before. “You’re beautiful,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made you drop your arm to your side. He looked as if he wanted to take you immediately, but he stood rooted to the spot as he asked, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, but then quickly held one hand up to signal for him to wait. “First, take your clothes off too.”

It was too embarrassing to be the only one naked. 

“Okay,” he said, pulling off his uniform and leaving it in a neat pile on the cracked concrete. When he turned to face you, you were surprised to find him already hard. He was much bigger erect than he was when you saw him naked before, and seeing his arousal made your face flush with heat. 

You’d never done anything like this before, so you were uncertain of how to proceed. Vartan’s experience was severely lacking, but his own desire seemed to be spurring him on. He stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling your naked body against his. Ahh, his skin felt so smooth and warm. His hands slid down your back, to your ass, where they squeezed lightly. 

You tilted your face up and kissed him again as his hands roamed over you, aggressive yet gentle. You remembered a time when the thought of a half breed touching you was the most terrifying thing you could imagine. But Vartan’s touch was warm and careful. 

He paused to get his long jacket from the pile of clothes and spread it out like a blanket. Then the two of you sank down onto it, him on top of you. He hovered over you for a moment, then said, “I’d like to try something I read in one of your books. Can I?”

Your mind raced to try to imagine what he read. Those books were full of ridiculously unrealistic sex scenes. But he seemed excited to try whatever it was, so you nodded. 

He slid down, parting your legs before leaning forward and licking a stripe up your wet slit. You shivered, rising up on your elbows to look down at him in shock. From what you’d heard, half breeds were usually far too preoccupied with their own pleasure to put much effort into pleasing a human partner. Of course Vartan would be different. 

His tongue slipped between your folds, and you don’t know if he intended it or not, but he licked right over your clit, making you gasp. He looked up at you then, his bi-colored eyes watching your face. “The book was right,” he said, “it is delicious.”

This made you blush furiously, instinctively covering your face with your hands as you muttered, “Oh my god.”

You heard Vartan’s voice, soft and uncertain. “I’m sorry, is this unpleasant for you? The woman in the book enjoyed it very much.”

Moving your hands, you looked down at him. “It feels really good. It’s just kind of embarrassing.”

He was looking back at you with concern. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes!” you said, a little too enthusiastically. He smiled, then went back to work pleasuring you with his mouth. You laid back, trying to relax despite your nerves being on fire. A gorgeous half breed was between your legs, gently licking your clit, acting as if you were bestowing some wonderful privilege upon him for allowing it. Oh god, it felt too good! Your legs quivered, your back arched, and your hands gripped fistfuls of his jacket beneath you. 

You climaxed with a moan, your body trembling as he pulled back and watched you, enraptured by the sight of your orgasm. You panted to catch your breath, then he moved closer, pushing your legs up, bending them at the knees. You felt his tip brush against your entrance, and found him staring at your face, as if waiting for one more confirmation. Given his history, you understood. You smiled up at him and put your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

When he finally pushed into you, it was a slow and careful motion. He didn’t want to hurt you, but your own desire was reaching its peak. You wanted him all the way inside you, and you wanted it now. You bucked your hips against him, urging him to go deeper, faster. You wanted to feel every inch of him. 

And he complied, thrusting in, over and over, his breaths hitching in his throat and his eyes sliding closed. You moaned and twitched beneath him, your arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer. 

His cock pulsed inside you, throbbing with pleasure, hitting a spot deep within you that had you gasping. His face hovered above yours, and he looked so beautiful, like angel. 

When you came again, clutching him ever tighter, he buried his face in your neck, kissing your throat as his own climax hit. You felt his seed shoot deep into your core, and you felt content. At that moment, the Pagoda, Gallica, the entire world dissolved into the distance. For you, all that existed were you, Vartan, and the red sky looming over your heads.

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 10

Chapter 9 here

******

Warnings: This chapter is a lil angsty. Also, sorry for the long delays in posting chapters on this. I've been going through it lately, I'm just not my best self atm. But I promise to finish this story to the very end. Also, I haven't forgotten the two Aizawa requests I received; my hope is to write at least one of them this weekend when my brain is hopefully refreshed. As always, thank you for reading <3

******

You and Shouta went on various dates over the course of the next few weeks.  You went out to eat at a few nice restaurants, you went to a cat cafe where you both discovered your mutual adoration for cats (as well as coffee), he came over to your house, where you cooked him dinner a few times.  You two had not put a label on your...whatever it was you were doing, nor had you slept together yet.  You weren't quite ready for that step, and something told you Shouta wasn't ready yet either.  All you've done so far was kiss, and that was okay with you.  Things were going well.

By getting to know Shouta, you also got to know Eri better, especially on the evenings where you would go to the Heights Alliance campus to visit him.  You sat in on one of his training sessions with her; the patience he demonstrated was very admirable.  You could tell he was a man with a heart of gold with the way he acted towards her.  Eri also seemed genuinely happy to have you around.  At school, she seemed to blossom into a whole new girl.  She became better friends with Hana, and started interacting with other students.

Her artwork at school even became brighter and more colorful over the course of the weeks; no longer were they just shades of purple, green, and black.  Over the course of those few weeks, you also got to meet Izuku Midoriya, who you could tell Eri absolutely adored.  Izuku came with Mirio one day after school to pick Eri up, and you could've sworn two celebrities just walked into the classroom with the way she reacted when she saw them.  You remembered the story Shouta told you about when Eri was rescued; this Izuku and Mirio were her saviors.  You pulled Izuku and Mirio to the side that day saying, "Mr. Aizawa told me her story, and I can't thank you both enough for what you did to save her from that awful fate."  

One Friday evening after work, you had no plans.  You decided to pick up some sashimi from one of your favorite restaurants, and you made your way home to have some you time. You got home, put on your most comfortable pajama set, poured yourself a glass of wine, and sat down in front of your television with your sashimi.  You were flipping through channels, when you came across the news channel with some breaking news.  The League of Villains had teamed up with the Meta Liberation Army, and renamed themselves The Paranormal Liberation Front.  This could not possibly be good.

You texted Shouta telling him to turn on the news.  He just replied, "I'm already watching."  You thought to yourself again how this could not be good.  You had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach; something bad was going to happen.  You texted Shouta again, "what does this mean?"  He responded back, "I don't know yet, but it can't be good."  For Shouta to say that meant it was a serious matter.  You decided to flip the channel to something a little more mindless, something that didn't make you think.  There was a reality dating show on, so you watched that for the remainder of your evening instead.  

Around 11:00pm, you found yourself starting to get tired.  You had a date with Shouta the following day; you two were going on a picnic at a nearby park for lunch.  So you decided to call it a night and go to bed so you could be nice and refreshed for your date tomorrow.  You did your usual nightly routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face, then made your way to bed.  You were more tired than you realized, and you were pretty much out the moment the head hit the pillow.  Unfortunately, what followed after you fell asleep were a series of lucid nightmares.  

Your first nightmare was your memory of the hospital that Kento was in when he was attacked.  You were standing over his lifeless body in the bed in the hospital room, feeling heartbroken, yet numb.  You knew you were dreaming, so why were you living this moment over again?  You looked around the room to see if you could find a way to wake up, and when you looked down at the bed again, this time it was Shouta's lifeless body laying there.  You still knew you were dreaming, but you clasped your hands over your mouth to stifle yourself from screaming.

Suddenly, you were no longer in the hospital room.  This time, you were at a funeral.  It was set up very much like Kento's funeral, but there was something different about it.  When you looked at the body in the casket, you once again saw Shouta's body laying there.  The people and faces around you were all blurry; Shouta was the only one you could see clearly.  In your nightmare, you were in a never ending loop of being in the hospital room, then at the funeral, then back in the hospital room, then at the funeral again.  And it was always Shouta's body you were seeing.

The nightmare finally ended with you waking up in a cold sweat and hyperventilating.  You had to get up from your bed, go to your bathroom, and splash some cold water on your face.  "It was only a dream," you told yourself.  You looked at your phone; at that point, it was 3:00am.  You went back to bed in an attempt to fall asleep, but you were wide awake at that point.  You tossed and turned for the remainder of the night, thinking about the nightmares you had and what significance they had.  Why were you seeing Shouta's body?

Around 6:30am, you finally got out of bed, giving up on the idea of trying to fall back asleep.  You couldn't help it, but you thought there had to be some sort of significance behind your nightmare.  Shouta was a pro-hero; he would be able to protect himself and those around him.  But at the same time, he wasn't invincible.  You've heard of pro-heroes dying all the time.  At that point, you put on a pot of coffee, sat down on your couch, and pulled out your phone.  You texted Shouta and lied, saying "hey Shouta, I'm not feeling very well today, I'm not going to be able to make our picnic date. I'm sorry."

******

To be continued...

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy ; @ivydoesit23 ; @salientseraph ; @dreamofkaty ; @simp-hub ; @bluebreadenthusiast ; @fuzzyfestcat

[yet-another-deanw-girl]

Chapter 16: Sweat It Out

||The Prophecy Series||

She knew for 15 years that this day would come. She knew her destiny had already been written. That her death had been foretold.

She knew she would have to stop him. She knew she would have to kill him. And she thought she was prepared for all of it. But the day she met him she realized how wrong she was…

Set in Season 10

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Female!OC

Warnings: the usual SPN, language, Dean having some... not so appropriate thoughts about Ema

Episode mapping: During episode 15 of season 10 "The Things They Carried"

Note: The events of this story are following season 10 of Supernatural and are taking place between October 2014 and July 2015. I tried to make sure that all the references to weapons, tech, etc. are accurate with the time period.

AN: This is my first time writing a fanfic but the story has been in my head for too long and it just needed to get out. I hope you like it.

AN: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

"Dean is in trouble…" Sam walks in my room, closing the door behind him. "What happened? Is he ok?" I frantically ask.  Sam tells me about Dean killing Cain. "So? He used The First Blade? And he resisted it?" "He did but he is not ok. And he will need help… Your help..." I look at Sam, not understanding his point. "He's given up looking for another solution." Sam continues. "He…" "I still don't know how to stop him. And I don't know how I could possibly help." "He's given up on himself but he will keep fighting so he can save you." "This is absurd… There is no saving me!" "I know my brother. You may believe there is no other way, but he believes he can save you somehow. And, right now, you are the only reason he has not given up yet. And he needs to be reminded of that! Constantly!" He pauses, taking a deep breath. "You need to stay by his side. I… I need you by his side." I look at him dumbfounded. I only suspect how hard this is for him…  To ask me for help…  To ask me to be constantly by Dean's side…  Especially when, until this moment, his priority was to keep me as far away from him as possible. "Ok…" He releases a breath nodding. "Thank you!"

"I'm either coming with you on your hunts or I will find cases of my own. I'm done staying in this bunker! You have two choices, you let me help you or you stay out of my way!" "What's going on?" Sam enters the kitchen. "Sweetheart, I am not letting a tech geek hunt monsters. That's not going to happen! Not on my watch!" "That's it!" I poke at Dean's chest with my index finger. I'm pissed.  "Training room! Now! And do not sweetheart me, Winchester! I'm not one of your bar conquests!"  I storm out of the kitchen heading to the training room. The brothers on my heels. "We are going to settle this once and for all. If you can pin me to the ground in the next 10 minutes, I'll stay here." "Ema, I'm not going to fight you!" Dean looks to his brother for help. "Oh! You think you can actually hit me?" I say, removing my jacket.

Created with Microsoft Designer GIF from Pinterest

"Just remember, I didn't want to do this!" Dean says, swinging at me but I quickly dodge his hit, smirking back at him. He smiles and attacks again but I swirl around him and kick his legs underneath him. He ends up flat on his back and a frustrated huff leaves his mouth. "Done already?" I ask looking down on him. "I really thought you could last longer." "Oh… princess, you want me to show you how long I can last." He stands again assuming a fighting position. "Promises, promises…" I tease.

GIF from Pinterest

10 minutes later he is lying on the ground, panting. He did actually manage to lay a couple of hits on me but nothing too serious. "Look… I do understand that me being a Commander of a tactile team does not have any meaning for you. But… You keep forgetting that I was sent here to stop a possible demon attack on this bunker! By myself! That should have told you enough." I smile at him from above. "I'll see you in the garage in 30 minutes." "I was holding back!" He yells after me. "I didn't want to hurt you!" "30 minutes, boys!"

Created with Microsoft Designer

"Agents, I gather."  I walk confidently in the sheriff's office, my heels clicking on the tiled floor, Sam and Dean following me closely. "Uh, was it the suits, or do we give off some sort of a Fed stench?" Dean jokes "It's the suits. What can I do for you?" The sheriff responses. "Well, uh, we are here investigating the death of private Jackie Prescott." I smile politely, taking the lead. "Sorry to waste your time, agents, but we wrapped that one up. Guy that did it was a special forces officer: Rick Willis. His fingerprints were all over the storage room out on the base where he did it. He even left his dog tags by the body." "So, is he in custody?" I ask. "No, the bastard drank a boatload of gasoline, then lit himself on fire. Left a wife and a baby. Third suicide we seen in six months... Military town…"

Military towns, those always hit me hard…  I look around. America's military towns look nothing like the ones in Eastern Europe. But they have similar feeling. The quiet present of discipline, honor and duty. We found out from Rick's wife, he had been acting strange since he had got back from his last deployment and he was constantly thirsty. She pointed us to another family, Kit, the husband had the same symptoms and his wife was worried about him. We are just walking out of their house when I see a man leaning against Dean's precious car. "Recognized your wheels." He says. I guess the boys know him. "What the hell are you doing here?"  And… they are not happy to see him, jugging by their reaction. It seems like they have history. "I think I'm gonna be coming with you." Cole, that's the man's name, says. "I stick to you two like flies on roadkill." He points at the Winchesters. "Make sure my buddy comes home in one piece. Look, I know what you two are thinking, but we are not gonna hunt my best friend, who happens to be a friggin’ war hero, by the way. We are gonna find him. And that's the difference." "Another one for the ride." I hear Dean complaining when I move to my car. "Nice wheels!" Cole says to me, before getting in his own Jeep. I just smile.

We follow Cole to a cabin deep in the woods. Dean was right, he won't just step away from this.  I hear the sounds of stuff breaking and the boys rush into the building.  Before I can get out of my car a man runs out from the cabin, hiding in the woods. I pull out my gun and follow him but I quickly lose him.  He is too fast.  Faster than a normal man.  I circle around going back to the cabin and I meet Dean in front of it. "I lost him." "Me too." He responds and we enter the small one room building. "Oh, God! Oh, God! Something went down my… throat." Cole gasps. "Something moved. It's alive, Sammy." "All right, well, we're gonna get it out of you, okay? We'll figure it out. " Sam tries to reassure him. "A couple years back, Dean and l worked a case. We got stuck in a cannery with this worm. It would get into people's bodies and… last time, electrocution made the worm leave the body." "All right, fine. Electrocution it is! I'm game!" Cole tries to act brave but I can see through him, he is terrified. "Alright! You get to work. I'll go look for Kit." Sam says and I leave the cabin after him. "I will go with you." "No!" He turns around facing me. "Sam, it's not the time for your animosity towards me! Kit is dangerous! You will need help." "It's…" he starts raising his voice but he stops and continues quietly. "It's not about me not liking you. I actually… I do not dislike you… But… You need to stay with Dean. You promised me." I nod and turn back to the house. "Just be careful." I whisper to myself.  I know nothing will happen to him, not while I'm alive, but I can't help to worry about him anyway.

"I almost took you off the map. Who would be saving me now?"  Dean had already connected the jumper cables to the battery of Cole's Jeep. "Hey, hey, hey!" I stop him before he can press the jumper cable clamps onto Cole’s forearms.  "Belt!" I reach my hand out expectedly.  He starts to say something but I interrupt him before he can utter a word. "And don't be a smartass about it."  I snap my fingers.  "Now, Dean!" He rolls his eyes and removes his belt. I give it to Cole to bite on it. "All right, let's fire this puppy up." Dean says "Well, you say that like it's just another Tuesday." Cole jokes in an attempt to act nonchalant before he clenches the belt between his teeth. "Oh, buddy, it's only Monday!" Dean presses the jumping cables to Cole's arms.

"All right! Again!" Cole demands. "No! No, we're done playing 'Operation'. If he zaps you again, you're toast." I stop the two men. "We need a new plan!" "Okay, what do we know about this thing?" Dean asks Cole. "Uh, sucker dries you out. I'm thirsty already, man." Cole starts.  "It likes water. Then when that's not enough…" "Blood. l don't know. Maybe the lack of fluids makes the thing hostile." "So? What now?" Dean asks me. "You are supposed to be the smart one!" "What do you think about rapid dehydration?" I turn to Cole. "Big fan! Just make sure you squash that sucker when it goes AWOL."

It might be the middle of March but the cabin is hot as hell and I'm sweating like never before. I remove my flannel and walk into the kitchen to avoid the heatwaves as much as possible. I lean against the table, so I can have a direct view of Cole.

Created with Microsoft Designer

Ema is leaning against the frame of the portal, separating the kitchen from the living room. Her arms are crossed in front of her, her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed. She had removed first her jacket and then her sweater, leaving her in a simple gray tank top. Her dog tags leaning against her cleavage. Her braided hair is damp and a drop of sweat starts rolling from it, down her exposed neck and slowly disappears between her breasts. I want to trace its path with my lips… Son of a bitch… Fuck… me… I try to swallow the lump in my throat. This woman is going to drive me crazy… I hiss when a drop of sweat falls on the cuts on my face and then I realize I was no longer keeping an eye on Cole. Fuck! "What is it?" Ema quickly opens her eyes and inspects my face. "You must have cut it when we were chasing after Kit?"

GIF from Pinterest

She takes a towel from the kitchen counter and damps it with water from the bottle sitting there. She stops in front of me and I stiffen when she positions herself between my legs. "Come here!" She says and carefully cleans the cuts. I can't stop staring at her eyes.  She is the most controversial woman I have ever met… She kicked my ass this morning without really trying… And now she is careful not to hurt me while cleaning my cut… And she is so fucking beautiful… And I don't care if Metatron was just trying to mess with me. Not anymore… "This should do for now." She smiles at me. Her phone rings and she goes out to take the call.

"I get it… Why you did it, Dean. My dad wasn't my dad anymore. If l go down that same road… I want you to do that to me, too." Cole says when Ema leaves us alone in the room. She is out speaking with some of her contacts to see if anyone had to deal with this kind of parasite before. "That road? That means giving up! If you think that's where you're headed, then you've got it ass-backwards. You're gonna fight harder than you ever have! You understand?" "Deano. Will you do me the honor of tying me to this chair?" He asks me looking at the water bottle on the table.  I start to tie him up but he slips away grabbing the bottle. I slap the water out of his hand and hold him down at gunpoint.  "You are gonna sweat this one through!" "I can't, Dean!" "Yes, you can! Listen to me! Yes, you can. Think about your family! Your wife, your kid. You hear me?" "I appreciate the talk, coach. But honestly, all l can think about is slicing your wrist and drinking you like a fountain. Guess that makes me a monster, doesn't it?"

"What's with her? She's kinda bossy." Cole asks me. He is calm again. "I didn't imagine you to be into that kind of a woman. But… Now when I think about it… It actually makes sense… I get it… she is…" "Oh… no, no, no… me and her… definitely not!" I try to hide my real thoughts about her. I'm  starting to sound like a broken record, even to myself.  "You sure?" Cole asks with raised brows. "It definitely looked like something in the kitchen!" "You should be careful with her!" I laugh at his attempt at matchmaking. "She can kick your ass without breaking a sweat, believe me!" "Oh, I believe you and I intend to stay far far away from her… and from you for that matter… Once this is over, you will never see me again! So… Who is she?" He points with his head to Ema, she is still outside, on the phone. "She is here to stop me when I go down this road. When I become that monster again." "Are you… going down this path again?" "I'm trying to fight it with all I get…"

"We were right! One of my contacts in Tokyo confirmed that dehydration…" I walk back in the room the moment Dean is stomping on the worm with his boot.

We couldn't save Kit. When Dean called Sam to tell him that we had succeeded it was too late for him. And Sam blames himself. "I can't help it, Dean. It feels crappy." "I know it does. You know, you can do everything right. And even still, sometimes… The guy still dies." I have the feeling Dean is no longer talking about Kit.

Chapter 17: Spilling truths between the lies >>

||The Prophecy Series||

[anki-of-beleriand]

The house at the edge of the world ch. 13

Summary: Y/N is the owner of an Airbnb at the edge of the world, a place in which Wanda would either heal or become what everyone is afraid of.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff/SW! x Female!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! +18, angst, drama, slow burn, friends to lovers, pregnancy, romance, fluff, mentions of depression and self harm, healing, R owns an Airbnb that welcomes many known characters from Marvel, R has powers, Wanda needs healing, and so does R. More warnings as the story progress.

Author's Note: Hello people! I know it has been quite some time, I do apologise about that. Life has not been easy and I have been living some hardships that prevent me from writing here, but not from writing on my notebooks, so I'm trying to get everything orginize and back into the different chapters of the stories.

This chapter is just a small moment of separation, and realization. I hope you guys like it. The end is almost here, remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 -Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Why are you fighting for?

Who are we fighting for?

There was not a single sound.

Darkness surrounded her, while tight straps of leather and heavy chains tied her to a wall. She felt panic rising inside her mind the moment she realized she could not call upon her powers. Her body tensed, fighting against the bonds keeping her in place. It took her a moment of struggle to finally understand there was no possible way out of this trap.

She took a deep breath, but her mouth never uttered a single word.

For some reason, she knew she was alone.

Her head was hurting, dizziness was taking over her senses while she recalled the events leading to her current situation. She remembered the helicopters, the screams, and the explosions; the pain of electric discharge running through her body made her lose the control she was holding over her magic. The heavy weight of something hitting her head made her staggered and then…

You were running towards them; she was confused but she tried to warn you.

Another discharge of electricity and Wanda was out.

The young woman didn’t need to wonder further to know in what kind of situation she was in. This only made her struggled against her bonds, if she had been kidnapped then there was only one person of doing such a thing. Wanda felt panic again, this time around she fought to get a hold of her powers only to feel a current of burning electricity moving from her neck through her head.

The memory of the Raft came right into her mind, and she understood why she could not use her powers.

She tried to move her neck, the weight of the device tied to it was now easily detected. Wanda clenched her jaw holding back the scream of frustration that wanted to leave her lips. Never before had she felt so vulnerable, her powers had become such an important part of herself that being unable to reach for them told her she was really in big trouble.

The sound of footsteps and heavy metal being scratched caller her attention, her whole body tensed and once more the pain from the device attacked her head making it impossible for her to hold back her protests of pain.

“Please, try to now overexert yourself, Wanda.” The voice of a familiar man reached her ears, though it took her some time to get used to the blinding lights in the room. “I would hate for you to be unconscious and unable to use your full potential before I have a chance of using it.”

Wanda tried to lift her head, and after a couple of minutes and intense pain crossing her face, she could finally do it.

“Hayward.” She mumbled through clenched teeth, the man tilted his head unimpressed his lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

“Hello, Wanda. I’m glad I was finally able to find you and have you as my guest.”  The man stood right in front of her, and Wanda finally realized the precarious state she was in.

The room was circular in form, with white walls and LED lights hanging from the ceiling. She had been strapped to a wall but was put in such a position that she was facing a surgical bed and a couple of instruments and machines she was afraid to identify. The man in front of her stepped aside, his eyes gleaming with emotion when her clear eyes fell upon the lifeless body that had been Vision.

Wanda felt her heart drop at the sight, she had seen him like this before.

The moment she tried to recover his body and was denied the closure of a funeral for the man she had loved with her life. Her eyes filled with tears, fear and uncertainty pocked at the back of her mind while Hayward stood right in front of her.

“Now that I have your full attention, how about we have a small conversation.” Hayward tilted his head ignoring completely the glare Wanda was sending his way. “I am sure we can get into an agreement and this situation would end in something beneficial for the both of us.”

“As soon as I am out of here, I am going to make you pay for everything.” Wanda warned holding back her anger such as to not activate her powers.

Hayward sighed shaking his head while making a gesture with his hand, “that was an unfortunate answer, Wanda. I really want your cooperation willingly; however, I am not beyond into obtaining it by force.”

Not sooner had he said this the device around her neck activated, and the screams of Wanda filled out the room. The young woman clenched her eyes shut, but her body ignited with a fire she didn’t recognize, and her hands burnt intently while a spark of red magical mist left her fingertips.

“It seems we can work something out.” Hayward said turning around to one man dressed in a white lab coat. “Keep trying until we can get from her what I want.”

______________________________________________________________

You woke up startled, your mouth opening to take a deep breath.

The side of your body was hurting, and the world around you was dancing in front of your eyes. Nausea hit your stomach the moment you sat down, your eyes clenched closed for a moment while you tried t get a hold of your surroundings and the situation at hand.

An explosion. A fight.

Wanda!

You didn’t have time to react, a hand placed itself on your shoulder and you were forced to lift your head and see the concern glare from Ajak pinning you to the place you were sitting on.

“Wanda…” You stuttered but the older woman merely shook her head, you tried to stand up again but she pressed you back with a strength you were always surprised to find in her.

“Stay still. You were hurt badly. I have taken care of most of your wounds, but it wouldn’t do any good if you were to force yourself at the moment.” Ajak went back to the previous position on the chair, you blinked away your dizziness before noticing you were in your room.

The place was a mess, but it seemed as if nothing in there was broken beyond repair. The older woman turned around tilting her head and making a face.

“The living room and the guest house were destroyed.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes burning with emotion before they settled on you once more. “I have called them already; they will be here as soon as they can.”

You didn’t need to ask who was coming, you knew Ajak had called the family. You weren’t sure who would come to your aid, after all, this was the first time in a very long time one of them had been hurt. What you did know was that you were still family and that was all Ajak needed to let them know what had happened.

Morning was already there, the light of the day sneaked inside the glasses of your bedroom and the sky above your head was still heavy with unleashed storms. You sat down slowly, your heart beating fast while your hands clenched tightly at your sides, you took a deep breath trying to control yourself before demanding answers.

Turning to the right your eyes found those of Ajak, the clarity in them told you everything you need to know. Yet you asked the question burning in your mind.

“What happened to Wanda?”

“We don’t know exactly.” Ajak fixed her position on the chair, ready to stop you from doing something harsh. “No one expected such an attack, this place was supposed to be a secret and Natasha and Yelena are assuring Sprite they were not followed. Though they obviously were, or something else its at play here.”

You scoffed at that, shifting on the bed so your legs were at the edge of the bed. Ajak was on her feet right away, her eyes gleaming strangely while her hand placed itself on your shoulder.

“You’re still hurt.”

“That man, or whoever the hell did this have Wanda.” You lifted your face with determination, the magic inside you igniting a golden fire around your irises. “I need to…”

“Take it easy.” Ajak stated firmly, her hand held up to stop you from any harsh movement.

For a brief instant you defied her with your eyes, your body creating a tension in your muscles which only made the pain increased. Your shoulders fell, eyes downcast before you stood on shaky legs.

“I need to do something, Ajak. Wanda may be in danger and I can’t…” You lifted your face to make sure Ajak could read the emotions running rampage through your system.

The older woman softened her features, her hand lifting up to put a strand of hair behind your ear. She smiled at you nodding towards the bathroom.

“I am not saying to do nothing, I’m just saying take it easy.” She stood back allowing you more space to move. “Go and take a bath, be careful with your wounds and once I have patch you up we will join the others.”

Two hours later you were walking down your hall, your eyes went from the complete destruction that was now your house and the falling drops of water coming from the dark clouds above your head. Your eyes drifted from what used to be your living room to the place where Natasha and Yelena were standing on. Ajak and Sprite had long gone to get everything ready back at their home, the Quinjet waiting in the front yard.

“So, I bet you two have some news, right?” Your eyes gleamed dangerously at the two Widows; Natasha nodded curtly pointing to the jet.

“Hayward has recruited some sympathizers and has been using some of SWORD’s resources to execute his plan.” Natasha went directly to the computer in the jet, her fingertips moving swiftly on the keyboard. “Tony and Monica had been monitoring some of the known bases of the organization, but after five years of leaving the leadership to this man it is quite obvious, he has been preparing for a situation such as this.”

“Which means, whatever he is up to, he is well hidden and almost impossible to track down.” You complemented sitting down with a wince.

“In theory, yes.” Natasha pressed a key and the window transform into a screen showing the map of the world with several dots in red and green.

You glanced at the screen with a frown in place, there was impatience in your posture while your thoughts filled with how much time everyone had wasted without knowing what could have happened to Wanda. Your strength was at half its potential, and your fingertips tingled with the possibility of the answers you could get if you were to get a hold of your powers.

Yelena shifted at your side, and soon you felt the weight of her hand on your shoulder. When you looked back at her she was offering a comforting glance, something you returned with a shaky smile.

“What do you need from me?” You finally asked to the two women, Natasha and Yelena exchanged a quick glance before another voice came in right through the coms.

“We need you to tell us how you can help us in this situation, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You had heard stories about the man, and you had seen him several times through the news but never before had you had the honour of meeting him much less talk to him. You knew your existence was a secret, it was something Natasha and Yelena had kept to themselves and this had been a great advantage for you to remain anonymous and out of the conflicts happening in the world. But right now, you didn’t care. The woman you had fallen in love with was in danger and it was about time for you to cross that line.

“Nick Fury, the man of many legends.” You replied standing up and walking towards the camera, the sole eye of the man focused on your image and you gave off a half smile. “I can do many things, but you must know each one of them comes with a price.”

“Is that a threat or a negotiation?” He retorted tilting his head unimpressed, you snorted shaking your head while looking around the place before lifting your hand. This time around your fingertips were gleaming gold and your eyes shone with power that many would envy from you.

“It’s a promise.” The electronics around you flickered before everything went back to normal, neither Natasha nor Yelena changed their postures though you were quite sure they would be ready to jump at you if at any point they felt threatened.

It seemed as if Fury thought the same, for the man merely chuckled shaking his head while crossing his arms.

“We do not have time for games, as you can see there are many bases and many spots in which Hayward can be hidden. And there is no time.” He stated leaning. “I am not sure as to what he has planned for Wanda, but last time Wanda lost her control she created a complete different reality in this one.”

“She won’t lose any control of her powers.” The conviction behind your words surprised Fury, you shake your head remembering her progress in the last couple of months. “But it is true that if used incorrectly, her powers can be disastrous.”

“We have monitored some of these bases, and have…” You lifted your hand shaking your head.

“I can find her with a flickered of my hand.”

“You can?” Yelena asked surprised by your declaration, you nodded though there was no a single trace of happiness or smugness in your expression.

Fury tilted his head lifting a single eyebrow at you, “there is a price for that, am I right? And you are not talking about money.”

“That’s right. My powers…” You hesitated for a moment, revealing the extended of what you could do was pretty dangerous so before speaking you measure the extension of the information you could share. “They required concentration, and energy that I didn’t possess an hour ago.”

“Then, we should cut the crap and go down to business, don’t you think?” Fury finally stated, you nodded in agreement sitting down once more and listening to the debrief.

With each passing second you grew inpatient.

It was almost impossible to not think of her at the moment, of her smile and the way her eyes would shine with happiness and tenderness whenever she felt safe. How smooth was her skin, and how warm was her smile; you had fallen into her spell without measuring the consequences. And now, as they spoke about Westview and Hayward, about what they think was going to happen and how Wanda play into all the mess, you couldn’t help but think that this mission would define your fate and hers.

“Y/N?” You lifted your head startled, Yelena was glancing at you with a glint of concern in her eyes. The cockpit was silent, everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

It took you a moment to realize they were waiting for you.

“I will do it on my own. And, under my rules.” You stated glancing at the screen and making sure the man at the other end knew who he was dealing with. “I am not going to be a tool, nor someone you can call on whenever the world is in danger. I am doing this out of selfishness.”

Fury scowled at your words, he lifted his chin and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to fight over your words. But then he dropped his shoulders nodding curtly.

“Very well.”

You turned around leaving the Quinjet with a set of soft steps following you slowly, you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Yelena the one walking right behind you. A part of you knew this was mainly out of duty, but there was also a part of you that knew she opted to do it out of love.

The place was a complete mess, the house that had guarded Wanda the last couple of months was on ruins and ashes, the rain creating pools of blackness while the wind hit your face scratching the tenderness of your skin. Time seemed to stop around you, your footsteps taking you through the ruins of the house and the destruction around you, the burning anger inside your heart was making it impossible to focus on something differently to what had happened before disaster stroke.

You stood in the middle of the hill, glancing at the sky then at the ocean spreading in the horizon. The waters were dark, waves disturbing the calm waters while the salty aroma in the air filled your nostrils. Whatever you heard inside the Quinjet was nothing to what you knew about Wanda and the situation she was in. You knew the moment you started working your magic to find her, she would be a step closer to her previous life than to the one she had started building in Vernazza.

It wasn’t about her going back to her dark path, it was her going back to being a hero.

And you being alone.

You heard footsteps behind you, your body tensed knowing there was no more time to waste. Natasha stood behind you for a moment, her own heart was pressing hard against her chest and she couldn’t help but feel worried for what Wanda might be living at the moment.

“How powerful are you, really?” Natasha finally asked crossing her arms while shooting you a calculating stare.

Your lips quirked upwards; one eyebrow raised just as you turned to face her.

“Powerful enough to find her, to bind her and to destroy her without moving from this spot.” You replied without changing your tone of voice.

Natasha nodded curtly tilting her head to the side, “and all this time, you just remained here without helping others.”

“It was not my place, Natasha.” You furrowed your brows, shrugging. “Not all of us are made to be heroes, and sometimes…we could do more harm than good. My powers are special, like most witches are.”

Natasha scoffed shaking her head without understanding completely your reluctance to be of any help in the past. She had learnt the hard way that being inactive when the world needed you the most might lead to disaster. Innocent people, children, suffering at the hands of injustice and evil individuals that would stop at nothing until they had gotten what they wanted. The Red Room was just one example of this, but Natasha knew more cases in which perhaps more help would have make a difference.

“My powers come with a price, Natasha.” You sighed closing your eyes for a moment before you opened them and the golden light that was your inner strength. Your fingertips created a golden mist while the air around you changed.

It felt heavier, suffocating.

Natasha shivered for a moment, though she never backed down from her position in front of you. You didn’t expect her to do just that, you knew the woman could face whoever she wanted without never showing fear or uncertainty. That was one of the things you like the most about her, Natasha was always ready for action and she was someone you knew you could count on.

At the moment, she was the best bet you had to help Wanda.

“I’ll find her, and you better be ready because I have a feeling this won’t be pretty.” You took a deep breath and then close your eyes ready to concentrate.

After you were taking under Ajak’s wing, they realized you need instruction. There was nothing much Sersi could teach you about magic, it was pretty obvious that due to the nature of your powers you would need powerful people ready to teach you how to handle your powers completely. Thus, after getting used to living with the Eternals, they journey started. You met a lot of people in all that time, but it was actually an old Yoruba woman you met when travelling to Togo. It was thanks to her that you learnt about the magic connecting all beings, and the magic itself tying everyone to what many in modernity called mutants.

When you opened your eyes you could see the different strings around you.

The magic tickled your skin, with a warm waved of air forming around your chest and spreading around your body in an explosion of connections coming to you through your own powers. The first time you did this, you almost died. But now, you were able to separate yourself from the other strings…the many people that had some magic in them, the ones that were powerful, and the ones that were not so much.

Natasha observed with calculating eyes the way you changed your posture, your eyes wide open now shining a deep golden colour. Your hands spread out, fingertips wriggling around while the air around her felt heavier.

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up when your eyes gleamed brighter and your mouth mumbled intelligible words. Then, as soon as it started, it had ended.

You clenched your jaw, breathing hard your clear eyes turned to Natasha’s ones.

“Poveglia.” You mumbled. “And we have to move fast, Wanda is liberating her powers in an erratic way. There is a lot of physical pain and she seems to be losing a battle trying to hold back.”

Natasha nodded turning around, “then let’s move.”

You went right behind her, Yelena was already sitting on the co-pilot seat playing with a knife. She got ready as soon as she saw the both of you entering the Quinjet.

“You got it? That fast?” Yelena sounded surprised, sending you an inquisitive stare you smiled at her. Your lips completely tensed.

“I am good at what I do, Lena.”

Yelena snorted shaking her head and getting everything ready, “I don’t have a doubt about that.”

“Okay, then let’s move it. Fury will send reinforcements to our location. Tony is coming over and…”

“And we need Ajak and Sprite.” You replied nodding back to the town. “You need to pick them up, they are waiting for us in the cost.”

Natasha furrowed her brows, turning to you with some hesitation in her expression.

“I’m not sure that they…” Natasha trailed off, she examined your expression before shaking her head. “What other secrets are there, Y/N?”

“a lot more, that will be kept in that way, Natasha.” You replied standing in between the two Widows. “Let’s go. Wanda doesn’t have much time.”

_____________________________________________________________

Wanda could remember the last time she was torture in such a way.

Hydra had been experimenting on her and Pietro, trying to get the best of their powers by putting them through some hardships that left physical and emotional scars on them. She remembered the time her powers had been taken away from her, the pain of electric shocks through her body whenever she tried to access them and get free from her prison.

It had been the worst experience of her life.

Now, tied to the wall, with the same device around her neck and the death body of Vision on display, Wanda had to wonder why she fought so hard to defend these people. Why she fought so hard to be accepted when many of them wanted to put a number on them, and make sure they could be located it at all times.

When her freedom and privacy would be violated the same way she was being used at the moment.

Her lips parted, and her throat hurt the moment she let out another chilling scream into the room. Her eyes gleamed red and her power was expelled in waves of red mist. Her voice inside her head screamed with the same intensity, and the young woman could sense Scarlet fighting over the binds around her neck.

We need to free ourselves; we need to…

But her voice was losing her intensity.

“I know you can give me more, Wanda.” Hayward entered the room after the last explosion of energy, his eyes fell upon a cylindrical device tied to Vision’s grey body. The man pursed his lips touching the synthetic body before turning his eyes to Wanda. “I thought you love him. It is disappointing that, when giving the chance you decide to say no.”

Wanda took a deep breath, sweat falling down her face while her eyes flickered between red and green. Her glared would have scared the man in front of her if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he could stop any attempts from her part to harm him. Hayward approached her with a kind smile, though her eyes were completely cold.

“If I were to take off the device…would you be inclined to help?” He asked, not for the first time, the same question.

Wanda took a deep breath, her mind clouding over to the implications of what Hayward was saying. The presence inside her head stirred once more, and she knew Scarlet would kill the man in front of her if they were given the chance to use their powers at its full potential.

“This is not the way…” Wanda breathed out. “Vision…if he comes back, he won’t be your weapon…”

Hayward snorted shaking his head, disappointed at such an answer.

“That’s too bad.” Hayward turned to Vision lifting his chin, arrogance dripping his voice as he spoke. “Your powers may return him to life, but I have made some modifications on that body. He will obey. This is for the greater good, we need a weapon like that to help us against people like you…People who obviously have powers they don’t deserve.”

“Vision would never…” Wanda started but trailed off when Hayward slapped her.

“Vision would do what I tell him to, and you will no longer be of any concern to the U.S government after today.”

Wanda lifted her face, her eyes burning with anger as she clenched her fist closed. In her eyes, the shadow of Scarlet was visible through the red colouring in her irises. The characteristic red mist forming slowly just as she tried to put up a fight against the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Hayward stepped back, his eyes gown wide though his lips pressed together in a thin smile; Wanda shook her head trying to collect her energy and getting herself freed from her current predicament.

“I won’t let you use Vision in such a despicable way, I won’t let you taint his memory!” Wanda struggled even harder, she held back her exclamations of pain feeling the energy moving through her body.

There was power surging through her, and the lights around them flickered through the sheer energy she was using. Hayward opened his eyes in shock, his feet moving back one step at a time not hearing the warning from his team just outside the room.

In no time, soldiers came in with their weapons at the ready all of them pointing at the witch that was now screaming in pain and anger. She was fighting over what had her imprisoned in that room, her mind breaking at some point when the electricity running through her body made it impossible for her to keep holding on.

Hayward let out a sigh of relief, he smiled lifting a hand to stop his soldiers from doing something stupid before moving to towards the door.

“That it’s all you need to do, Wanda.” Hayward smiled pointing to where the body of Vision was resting and the cylinder seemed to be gleaming red. He walked towards the door followed by his guards, with a last glance to a suffering Wanda Hayward exited the room. “Goodbye, Wanda.”

The world had not been fair with her.

Losing her parents, and her childhood was just the beginning of a life that would be filled with uncertainties and hardships. Pain seemed to be the only thing she knew pretty well, as an emotion and a feeling she had learnt to deal with as she grew older. Her body shivered with sweat rolling down her forehead. She didn’t know when it stopped, but it did. And suddenly everything around her was back to being black, the only sound that of her hard breathing.

She had tried.

She really tried to get out of this situation.

Her eyesight became blurry, and she hated the vulnerability she was feeling at the moment. How useless she was without her powers? Without the strength she relied on for so long, would she be able to survive? In a moment of clarity, she didn’t have before Westview, Wanda and Scarlet thought about their lives from the moment they lost their parents.

Falling into the hands of Hydra had been out of desperations, and getting the powers that led them to the Avengers was something that built in them a new purpose. A purpose Wanda lost in the Lagos incident. Every s ingle step she had taken had been wrong, every decision had led to more suffering, to her losing herself and letting others take advantage of who she was. Of what she was.

Until Vernazza.

Until Y/N.

For the very first time ever since she lost Vision, and she went away in the Blip Wanda was happy. She was at peace with herself and her past. She had forgotten the outside world that had pointed their fingers at her in fear and hatred, the ones that had forgotten her as a hero and now were screaming at her like a villain. For the very first time, Wanda understood why Natasha and Tony offered that gateway and the usefulness of such a time.

There was always time for a second chance, there was always time for making a difference and to step aside. Wanda stirred lifting her face, the room was dark still and she wasn’t feeling any strength in her body but now she knew what she had to do. She thought she knew what she wanted, that she was ready to go back to her life as a hero, as and Avenger…to show everyone she was not the bad person many thought she was. For the very first time, Wanda realized she needed to be happy for herself and nobody else.

We have fought many battles, we have faced many enemies but none as big as ourselves. It is time for us to decide who we are, and what we want to do. The voice of Scarlet sounded stronger, more confident that before and Wanda felt her power grow inside her chest.

“I thought we have decided already.” Wanda smiled and she could sense the smile of her alter ego in her mind.

Let’s get out of here, I don’t think she knows.

“I think we made her doubt.” Wanda finished before she took a deep breath.

And when she started gathering her inner strengths, the lights inside the room blinked to live. The body of Vision was completely visible, and there was no more doubts inside her mind. Wanda knew out there someone was looking for her, she knew that as soon as she did something help would come so she only needed time to make a big ruckus and hold until they get there.

With her usual determination, Wanda called upon her power closing her mind and body to the pain just as the lights inside the room started flickering. The device around her neck activated, and her lips opened up to let out a bloodcurdling scream inside the room. Everything in her body hurt, but she wouldn’t stop and push herself to the limit.

Wanda knew she was doing the right thing; she could hear the soldiers and the screaming of orders left and right. She could sense many thoughts, all of them scared or angered, and then just before she lost all consciousness…Wanda felt Y/N.

A flash of gold, a comforting warmth around her body and then only blankness.

_____________________________________________________________

Natasha had seen many heroes with superpowers fight before.

She had seen the good, the bad and the ugly learning how some of these powers could be a destructive forced that she usually thanked were on her side. She had seen Wanda fight, and she had been victim of her mind-altering technique; but never before had she seen what she saw in Y/N.

Poveglia was a small island located it in the venetian lagoon, it was a deserted island that many rumours said it was haunted. In all reality, it had been a secret Hydra based back in the World War Two and had been abandoned once the war was over and the newly founded SHIELD got control of the installations. It was supposed to be abandoned, but over the years it was obvious that the rumours about strange happenings in the island had been fed by those secret Hydra agents that were trying to continue with the groups secret dealings.

It was difficult for Fury to debrief everyone, and to assemble a team that would make sure this island was finally out of commission.

The place was heavily guarded, and Natasha feared it wouldn’t be as easier as she thought at first. That was until Y/N knelt down with a yelp of pain leaving her lips. Ajak was the first one by her side, speaking in a language the Widows didn’t recognize but that seemed to do the job.

“She…she is pain.” You stated through clenched teeth, your eyes gleaming brightly. “We need to…”

Ajak pursed her lips lifting your chin with two of her fingers, “peace, control, and power. Without them, you are nothing, Y/N.”

You nodded curtly standing up, you turned your back to them and walked towards the gate.

“Take care of everyone else, I will take care of this and the enhanced individuals inside.”

“Y/N we should wait…” Natasha started but trailed of when the switch changed and the gate started opening. “Y/N, WAIT!”

You didn’t wait.

Magic had always been a part of your life, you learnt to fight from Thena and Gil, and you had grown to be a great warrior thanks to them. Your frown increased as you landed in the backyard, the golden mist leaving your hands and pinning the soldiers to the ground. Your intention was not to kill, but you had learnt a long time ago that you were not above it.

Whatever you needed to do to keep your precious people safe.

Making your way inside the building was easier than you thought, your footsteps echoed in the building. You could hear the blasting sound of alarms and screams and shoots being fired; whenever you came across one soldier or a group of them, you were quick. Your fighting style was that of a seasoned warrior, and many of them were children before your eyes.

Your first problem was a young man.

He stood in front of you with his face marked by arrogance, his body muscular and filled out to resist heavy fights. He was dressed in black, with a strange armour covering his body and his hand armed with a combat knife. He smiled looking you up and down before assessing the threat.

“You don’t look like much.” He cocked his head to the side; he cracked his knuckles stepping forward before twirling the knife. “You have powers, I give you that. But you’re not the only one.”

You stood there taking a fighting stance, tilting your head to the other side you locked eyes with him. The young man hesitated for a second, before his arrogance was back into the game. He came at you with great speed, you side-step his first attacked barely missing the blade of the knife cutting through the air before he turned to you hitting you square in the face with his closed fist.

Your head bounced against the wall, an exclamation of pain left your lips before you dodged his next attack, that went right through the wall. You narrowed your eyes, this super strength was not something you were used to but at the moment you were more focused on other things.

Your leg lifted up hitting the young man on his back, his face crashing against the wall. You heard the crack of something breaking, but the young man turned as soon as he could and with the same technique he hit you squared on your midsection coming at you before hitting you once more in the face.

“You bitch!” You lifted your face dodging and blocking watching the blood coming down his broken nose. “You will learn!”

You lifted a hand and he stopped dead on his tracks, his eyes opened wide just as you lifted him in the air. Your golden eyes glancing at him with indifference before you pressed him against the ceiling of the place, he tried to struggle but it was useless.

“I could take your life with a single flickered of my hand.” You said coldly, your eyes falling on the knife he had dropped on the ground. “the energy I can sense in you would be enough to fee me for two more lives.”

The young man opened his eyes in terror, his struggling became frantic and you merely scoffed.

“I’m not interested in you, kid.” You stated walking forward. “Where is she?”

You waited for a moment before letting go of the man that soon fell to the ground, the young man was breathing hard. His face to the ground, his body trembling and spasming still quite sensitive to the magic that had pinned him to the ceiling. You turned around kneeling in front of him.

“Where is Wanda Maximoff?”

“Do—down the ha-hall.” He stuttered unable to move, you smiled patting his head like a dog.

“You won’t be able to move for a while, take this time to think over what you want to do next. Humans are not merciful with those who abused their privileges.”

He wasn’t the only one, and as you tried to make your way down the hall to what seemed to be a control room you realized many of these individuals were different. But were not natural, the energy they carried was fake, as if it had been forced through their bodies instead of being born inside them. You scoffed disgusted at the human experiments you seemed to be fighting, but your disgust was directed to the ones behind these poor souls that probably thought they were getting the deal of their lives.

They obtained strength through sacrifice.

Weapons. Tools.

You finally came to your destination, only to find a man standing with a full fledge army pointing their guns at you. This could have been a disaster if it wasn’t for the fact that the moment you stepped forward three different explosions shook the whole prison.

The ceiling came down, and the doors of the lab were thrown off their hinges with a red mist involving the room. Your eyes opened wide, you heard the order and your hand lifted to stop the bullets from reaching you and Wanda.

Wanda that was floating in a room with ropes and chains still hanging from her wrists and ankles, her neck covered with a black gadget and her mouth open in a rictus of pain. You flickered your hand, the magic around you expanded and the screams soon softened down while Wanda now in full Scarlet Witch mode dropped to the ground tired.

You ran to her side, your hand grabbing the collar around her neck.

For a moment you felt the voltage coming from it, and you merely used your inner strength to destroy the artefact and free the woman from it. The world around you kept spinning around, but your magic was protecting you from what was happening right outside.

Now with her in your arms, you could finally see the damage she had undergone.

With bags under her eyes, her face was covered in scratches and blood. She had signs of torture, and you could feel as her vital energy flickered dangerously in and out, as if she had been made to force her power on more than one occasion. Your hand trembled, your fingertips taking some strands of hair out of her face while you swallowed down your emotions.

You could sense others right outside your bubble of power.

You knew you were not alone; you could sense Ajak and Sprite, Natasha and Yelena and the life force of one Tony Stark. Your hand trembled when you moved away the hair from Wanda’s face, she had blood and a black mark on her cheek, anger went through your veins as you realized she had been tortured.

Then, your eyes lifted and you saw him.

The body of Vision.

A piercing pain went through your heart at the thought of Wanda trying to bring him to life. Of you losing her.

You swallowed down your doubts picking her up in your arms, Ajak showed herself in a moment glancing at your wounds and Wanda’s ones. She noticed the urgency in your eyes, and she knew you would not allow a single healing process in you until Wanda was okay.

“I think we better go; I need to see how badly she was wounded.” Ajak said pointing to the yard of the fortress.

“You better bring someone to take the body of Vision out of here and have someone check over the different technologies they have in here.” You spoke looking passed Ajak, Tony Stark stood with full armour and his face barely visible. “I think they had been experimenting with more than AI in this place.”

“Where are you taking her?” Tony asked with his eyes fixed on the redhead in your arms. “She needs medical attention; I can provide her with a good care.”

You scowled at the man, “she is out of energy, her magic had been affected by that disgusting gadget. She needs me and Ajak, Stark. When you have finished with this place, you are more than welcome to join us back home. No soldiers, no traps. Natasha would know how to locate us.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, instead you started walking down the debris helping yourself with your magic to move as fast as you could. No one dare to stop you, and Sprite alongside Yelena guarded your side as you went to the Quinjet that Natasha had been flying around.

Fixing Wanda in your arms, with tears in your eyes you waited until they carried you home.

_____________________________________________________________

Tag list!

@cowboyboots236 - @kacka84 - @alurajordyn - @mrscromanoff - @trikruismybitch - @njavezan - @alwaysgoodnight - @mrsmaximoff21 - @casquinhaa

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

jpeg my beloved, i am here with ask game emojis! 🥤🍄🪐🏜️🪲

also to tell you that the pic of your puppy with painted nails is SO cute!!! humbly requesting puppy's name as well pls 🥺

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

searching faces by Take_Me_To_Your_Fragile_Dreams (Explicit, 76.8k words, 16/? chapters) is a work of fucking Art. primo outlaws content. incredible joker junior/tim characterization. its so angsty but also so hopeful. 10/10 would recommend

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

i'm not sure if this counts bc its not a ship thing, but as a pair, i am a twins!Jason&Cass truther. Jason who is dosed with a truth serum at some point but,,, it does nothing. He finds out he has a natural resistance to truth serum. a... Genetic predisposition. you know what's funny? Lady Shiva was dosed with serum when she told batman and robin she'd never had a kid (obviously this is because cass cain as a character didnt exist yet yada yada retcon yada yada WHATEVER i do what i want)

ANYWAY further genetic testing reveals that jason and cass are siblings. after shiva gets tracked down, she reveals that she had twins with David Cain, but he only wanted one kid to experiment on. he took cass because, ironically, jason was the runt. shiva drops jason on Willis Todd, former associate (romantic? sexual? criminal? personal? whose to say)

Catherine, who decided not to have bio kids because she didnt want to pass on a genetic disease that caused many of her family to die young (*jaws theme song*), went '🥺 free baby? can we keep him? 🥺' and the rest is history

Jason's whole world is rocked when he discovers this. Cass is like '??? you are Already brother.' and jason is like 'ITS DIFFERENT' and cass is like 'incorrect.' despite finding out they are twins, cass relentlessly refers to him as baby brother.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

No debt 🤘

I've started collecting lego minifigures of batman characters and i love them <3

Currently planning a trip to nyc in december! i've never been!!

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love getting comments that really engage with me as a writer, e.g. asking questions about the story, predicting what will happen next, etc. I also LOVE getting off the walls bonkers shit. No greater compliment than someone being deranged about my work.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

honestly, thank you, i really needed a little kick on this one. I added a couple paragraphs to the next chapter of Very Special Clone Boy which i am going to finish on GOD

Kon spared a moment to consider the civilians in the house behind him, the maybe-probably-not-but-possibly future in-laws he’d put in danger with nothing more than his general proximity. His soulmate who he’d put in danger. Maybe. Possibly. That, or just some randos who happened to have the same last name as his soulmate, which wasn’t really any better.

This is Finley, she's a 6 year old boston terrier, and I yearn to commit war crimes on her behalf.

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

SPOILERS ALERT! (Obviously!)

I haven't actually finished. Just one more chapter left. But its fine. I'm done with the major plot anyways. Let's start!

How do I feel about Elbert's route?

All in all, it was kinda....meh. I wasn't entirely bad nor it was good. It's just...I'm so dissatisfied.

How was the story?

It was half boring and half good. I chose the Madness route and let me just say, for how dark Elbert's story is, the ending is just so disappointing. Now this is just the Madness route, maybe in the Blind route is much better (I hope it is).

El's story mainly contains two stories - 1. Main story that reveals El's past and his curse and 2. Bernard&Co. I'll be honest... I don't care about Bernard and his company! Nor do I care about Gabriel and his kinky stuff nor Daisy and her blue poppies. It really has nothing to do with El's past. It's just boring side story that just keeps getting in the way of the main storyline and it cannot be avoided. I honestly didn't pay any attention to Bernard&Co story because I was bored and I'm more interested in getting to know El.

On the other hand, I was quite interested in El's past. Yes! It's one of the most tragic ones I've heard. I love how dark it is and the writers did a good job in making me actually hate EVERYONE related to El. I also loved how they showed the scene where Al tells Kate about El's past in a library where they first met and at the same time, El was having a dream where he sees his whole childhood. It's a nice transition. They keep switching between Kate's pov to El's pov from time to time. Good job! I liked that.

The writers did keep me interested in the story because to be honest, I was really looking forward on how El finally comes out from his tragic past and faces his true nemesis. But they went and ruined it in the end so much so that it WASN'T WORTH SPENDING 1500 DIAMONDS and 25 story tickets!!! Yes! I did use my diamonds, which I've been saving for Jude, on story tickets.....because I was so hooked! I couldn't wait 10 days and I couldn't sleep until I found out what's going to be Jeffery's ending.

What happens to Jeffery?

By this time, you must know that, Jeffery is the true main villain in El's route. Not Gabriel Bernard. If you don't know, Jeffery was the chief butler of the Greetia house. He and the other servants SA-ed El everyday since he was 9-year-old. Not only this, let me list out all the crimes he has committed:

SA-ed a minor everyday.

Brainwashed and manipulated that same child.

Bribed a guy to kidnapped Kate and also told him to sell her, because you know, she was preventing him from SA-ing El.

Tried to kill Kate.

And also being completely delusional in thinking that the reason why El was trying to kill him because Kate brainwashed him and not because...all of the above.

Yeah. So you'd think, a monster like that would get painful death, right? But no. El just shows up, says hi and stabs him with his sword. That's it.

I was really disappointed, because I thought, El was going to make him suffer for what he has done and killing him as painfully as possible, because he deserves it. For some reason, the writers just made it anticlimactic. If I compare this ending with William and Harrison, their ending is much more exciting. Especially William's...I'll translate that as soon as my exam is over...so please be patient, it's on Sep 8th. Okay?

But yeah, that's it. I don't how El kills him in the other ending. Someone told me that El poisons him. Poison apple I guess. I'll see that when I play the other ending, but not anytime soon.

What is El's tragic ending?

El's tragic ending according to Victor is to die while being unsatisfied. We see El trying to collect the most beautiful thing in the world, but El's tragic end is, he will die without getting that most beautiful thing.

What about Al?

I still don't understand why Al kissed Kate. It still confuses me and Yes! Kate does tell El that Al kissed her and El was like--

Kate: "Well....Mr. Alphonse.....kissed me on the lip--"

El kisses her before she could finish her sentence.

El: "Tell me Kate, who is your daddy?"

Kate: *blushes* "It's Lord Elbert...."

El: *smiling* "Good."

El: "If it's Al, I don't mind..."

Kate: "You're....n-not going to kill him, right?"

El: "If it was someone else, I would have.......I'd rather you not, but if you want to kiss someone else besides me, it should be only Al."

Kate: *jealous* "I don't want to kiss someone else. I only want to kiss you..."

Yeah, that's El's reaction. He was surprisingly calm about it. Al on the other hand is starting to grow on me. He's like the Mitsuhide of this game, so mysterious that you can't tell if he's on good side or bad side. El seems to trust Al very much. Yes, he is jealous about Kate spending time with another man, but he also trusts Al and knows that no matter what, Al will keep her safe. Al on the other hand dislikes the fact that both Kate and El trusts him so much. I don't know if Al even likes El as friend. Sometimes he acts like friend and sometimes he doesn't. It's so confusing, so I'm really looking forward for his route.

Kate and El

Honestly, these two are made for each other. Both are jealous possessive types that keeps asking each other if they were thinking about each other while they were apart. There are only some cute moments here and there, like El staring at Kate so he could get into her heart and also making sure that she only looks at him and only thinks about him and also grabs her face and makes it turn to look at him and also asking to look only at him lol. It's a funny scene I liked it. But most of his route is full of sadness and sadness and .....lots of sadness. You get my point.

Final thoughts

This post is really short but there is not much to talk about because I already spoiled you guys about El's past which is the major part of the story.

I wish the story was bit more exciting, at least the writers could have improved the ending of Jeffery after making me hate him so much. All in all it was a pretty meh experience. I still think Harry's route is the best one so far.

[astrarobotica]

Hibike! Euphonium is still by far my favorite anime, and I think the final season was good, but man the pacing is all over the place.

They seemed to imply for a while that Season 3 would be the last, so going into it I assumed that would be the case. But the first half of the season has a pretty slow pace focusing on character relationships, mostly the new first year students. I liked that it felt like it was taking its time, but halfway through the season I started to wonder how they were going to wrap things up in six or seven episodes.

Then Episode 10 came out and they had only just reached the Kansai Competition, and I seriously started to doubt that they were going to try to wrap everything up in four more episodes, because I didn't see how they possibly could. I thought maybe they would be doing one more season, or finish it with a film or OVA. And then they didn't do any of that.

I'm just a bit conflicted. The entire final season was really emotional. I liked all of the plotlines. I liked that they were willing to not give Kumiko the soli, even though it would have felt better, it wouldn't have had the same impact on the final part of her character development. But. The pacing of the second half of the season led to so much being crammed into the final episode that I was on the verge of tears throughout most of it while also thinking welp, I guess that's it.

So it's just a bit frustrating, because I think this series is so close to perfection (for me) if it weren't for the obvious issue of Kumiko and Reina having this very intentional romantic tension only to be sabotaged so Kumiko can canonically end up with the guy who barely has any presence in the final season, and the pacing of the final season. The relationship thing happened all throughout the first two seasons so I definitely wasn't getting my hopes up for anything going into this. But I had the benefit of discovering the show just as Season 2 was finishing airing, so I got to watch the story of their first year all at once without having to wait a whole year for the second half. Part of what I liked about the show so much was how it took time to tell all of these character subplots while they were working toward trying to win at Nationals. There was such a good balance of character arcs while also progressing the main plot at a decent pace.

Then the second year stuff ended up just being two feature films and an OVA. And I think they're all great, but I just wished there was a bit more. I don't think there really needed to be since they didn't advance to Nationals, but I would have liked it.

And finally the third year is told in just thirteen episodes. Less than half of the first year. And this being the final year, their last chance to win at Nationals, the end of high school, the end of the series... I just wish they had taken their time with it. Season 1 ended with the Kansai Competition, as well as a bonus episode. Season 2 didn't even end with Nationals, because there was an entire episode after the competition to wrap things up. But in Season 3, Kansai is Episode 10, Nationals is Episode 13, that's it, end of series. What's more, the final episode at least took the time to include an entire performance, which has really been lacking in the final season, but half of the episode was just a montage of clips from the series during their performance, and a final credits sequence of still images. There was virtually no dialogue between characters after the their performance. No goodbyes. No real sense of closure. This is the point where the main cast of characters is finishing high school! When they all go off on their own to start a new chapter in life! And yet no time is taken to put any emphasis on the emotional weight of all of this, of winning gold at Nationals... We get credits with still images, and then a time skip of adult Kumiko struttin' down the hallway to introduce herself as the assistant advisor to the concert band. The End.

I know animation studios have constraints and commitments, and I'm sure there were numerous factors when they decided how they were going to make this final season. It just feels like compromises were made; maybe they didn't want to do a whole fourth season, maybe they didn't have enough content for it, maybe they had already committed to doing other projects after Season 3 and wouldn't want to wait multiple years to do another season or film and just decided to wrap everything up here an now. I just think it deserved more time. It's still my favorite series. I can't say I'm disappointed really, it was still a very good season. I think it says a lot about the quality of the series that I can feel so conflicted about the pacing while also not letting it spoil how much I enjoyed it. A couple years ago I didn't know if there was going to be a third season at all. I can't really say I'm sad that it's over, but I just wish it was given more time.

[caeli0306]

20 questions for writers tag game!

tagged by @widebrimmedhatsblog and @hockeyspiral23

Total number of AO3 works

Nine!

2. Total AO3 word count

287,489

3. Fandoms I've written for

Empyrean and that's literally it lol

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal, castles crumbling, Tales from the Airport Bathroom, Did Someone Say Shots?, and Did Someone Say Vacation?

5. Do I respond to comments?

Yes! Sometimes it takes me longer to get to them, especially if I get a lot within a short period of time, but I always respond to comments.

6. What has the angstiest ending?

definitely the present, the past, and you in between. That was the first one shot I ever wrote and I still get comments of people being iike "bro why did you do that???"

7. What has the happiest ending?

All of my fics (except for the one mentioned above) have happy endings if they're done, more or less! If I had to choose one, I think it would be VSGTSAS.

8. Have I received hate?

Yes, once, but honestly in my line of work I get so much online hate that I just find it funny. I wrote a very sarcastic response and moved on. One of the reasons I love this fandom is because its super positive and accepting, so why dwell on the single outlier I've come across?

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

Yes, and as of now just Riorgail

10. Do I write crossovers?

Unless you count the Top Gun AU I've been working on a crossover, then no. I think trying to mix worlds and characters would get too confusing for me, so doing an AU based on another world is about the extent for me.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know I have not! Hopefully it stays that way.

12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have I ever co written a fic?

I have not! I feel like it would be fun though

14. What is my all time favorite ship?

Riorgail. They are my Roman Empire.

15. A WIP I'll never finish?

So I will always maintain that I will finish everything I start, but if there is any story that I think has a chance of not getting finished, it's Swan Song. I haven't had the inspiration to write it for a while, and my backlog just keeps getting longer. I hope I'll get around to finishing it eventually, but it won't be for a long time.

16. Writing strengths?

I've been told that I write angst well, and that I'm good at writing tension between characters. Personally, I think my ability to research (thank you journalism) and write things as close to realistically as I possibly can is my greatest strength. Not kidding when I say I had a 15 page document of job descriptions for senate office staffers that I got from a friend who works on the Hill back when I was working on VSGTSAS and that bad boy was open the entire time I was writing chapter 4.

17. Writing weaknesses?

I think I struggle to describe movement and action in a way that isn't repetitive, and sometimes my writing sounds a bit robotic (thank you journalism). I also think sometimes my sentences can get a bit convoluted.

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

I'm not sure - I don't think I've read any fics with that.

19. First fandom I wrote for?

Empyrean!

20. Favorite fic I've written?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I'm going to include Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal and castles crumbling because I love them both and they are both my favorite.

I'm tagging @skyfallscotland, @suebswrites, and @witch-and-her-witcher (unsure if any of you have already been tagged!)

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XVI

Chapter 16

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XVI

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So... it's been a while lol Some things happened the last weeks that kept me away from my works, but finally I'm back 💜 During this time, I've faced stress from work, I got COVID, I recovered from it, got back to work for a few days until my vacation started, then I traveled, and now I'm back home. I didn't map this chapter, but I already knew what I wanted to include in it, so it wasn't really hard to work on it. As a way to apologize, I made it longer, so I hope you enjoy it :)

Hermes and all the younger gods who worked under him haven’t had that amount of work in a long time: having a date settled for the next weeks, your wedding was now a reality, and given the unprecedented nature of the union and the fact that one of the most important gods was involved in it, there were many people to be informed and messages to be sent.

While Zeus’ son took to himself the task of traveling to Midgard in order to make the announcement to the bride’s family, the other messengers were sent to the Heavens, to deliver the invitation to the groom’s youngest brother and his family; to the depths of the Seas, where his other brother saw his predictions about being requested in Valhalla in a few months turn into reality; and to the Underworld, where the god of Conquest received the news with enthusiasm: the growth of his family and the birth of a goddess were things that he hasn’t seen in ages. The pantheons that were in good terms with Greece were also invited, of course, and the preparations for the next great festivity inside each of them started immediately after the messengers’ departure.

In a way that would only surprise people who knew nothing about human beings, the human girls were the first to know about the wedding, and they wasted no time in coming to congratulate you and cheer up with the perspective of a new party in Valhalla: this wasn’t something that happened every year, so they were right in considering themselves lucky. The ones with whom you had a closer friendship asked you about your feelings towards marriage and if you were nervous about the idea of leaving humanity behind, and even if you already knew what type of goddess you would be, but there wasn’t really much you could answer: since you were never married before, you still didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, and the same could be said about the ritual and the events would follow it; about being a goddess, Hades told you that your purpose would become clear to you after your transformation, but some of your current passions, interests and personality traits could influence in the process, so it was too soon to have a definitive answer in this sense.

To be honest, you were more anxious about your role as a Queen than about being given divine powers: by the studying sessions you’ve had the last months, you were aware that working as a governor was a great responsibility, and you felt anything but prepared for it. You already talked about this to Hades, who tranquilized you, stating that you would be by his side for all the time you needed; you always tried to focus on this, but sometimes your anxiety would take the best from you, and thinking about the future was the last thing you wanted.

***

The greenish stem of the narcissus grew out of the little amount of soil seconds after you poured some drops of the mixture you just created, and your eyes widened with the vision. It’s been several days since you started experimenting with flowers, but Valhalla’s technology didn’t cease to impress you: countless possibilities of creating new species that would grow before your eyes with the most exuberant colors and shapes were a dream coming true; it was the perfect type of work, according to your standards, being a fusion of observation, study, creativity and sensibility, with endless paths to explore and beauties to discover.

The first leaves appeared all over the stem and on the upper side of it, making you hold your breath. It was almost there; you were sure you had the correct amount of substances united this time, so now the petals should have the desired shade.

The first petal appeared among them, followed by the others…

And then you had a purplish, iridescent flower, just like all the others you already had around you.

You sighed, disappointed. Yes, you loved the garden you ended up creating on that corner of the Greenhouse, and you loved the flower you just planted as well, but you felt you would have loved it more if you finally got the shade you’ve been trying to create since the last month: a celestial, vibrant blue, just like the blue that overcame the skies after the twilight and preceded the black of the night during summers in your homeland. You’ve been trying many things to create a variation of the species with such color, but the farthest you got was to create a purple flower.

You went to your notebook, opened on the table, and started revising your notes.

– These are the most beautiful mistakes you’ve ever made, little one.

You startled, then smiled, closing your notes and turning to Hades, who just crossed the room’s entry and was now touching the flowers that hanged upon it. He was aware of your incessant attempts to create the blue narcissus, and has been following your work from close, so he knew you were far from the results you wanted; still, he never ceased to admire your creations, seeing them as works of art, or beautiful mistakes, as he liked to say.

He approached the table as you leaned on it, crossing your arms and leaving the newest flower at sight.

– And what about this one? – you indicated it with a look.

His response was to touch the purple petals with his fingertips the same way he used to do with your hair, admiring the variations on its surface, created by the light that entered through the transparent walls, filtered by the leaves of the trees and ivy that surrounded the place, among which many of your own flowers spread.

– It might sound as a common place – he started – But this one surpasses all the others. How did you make it?

You showed your notes to him.

– I don’t understand what’s going on – you complained, observing the flower while he looked through the text – I’ve been calculating everything so carefully, yet it seems impossible to reach the exact shade of blue I want. I need to make the green undertone more prominent, but the red one just won’t decrease, no matter how much I work on it...

Hades spent a moment in silence, alternating his gaze between the notes and the flower. He has been the one who encouraged you most in this project, not letting you give up every time an unexpected color appeared on the petals and praising the results you’ve managed to reach, even when they weren’t exactly what you wanted; as a request made by you, however, he never interfered in the process, whether using his powers or giving you the subtlest instructions.

When he finally returned you the notebook, you thought he would give you some advice, but his response was to smile while observing the narcissus with a mysterious gaze.

You were the one who restarted the conversation.

– So… what do you think?

He took a moment to reply.

– I think your progress is something impressive, even for our standards – he touched the flower one more time; and, looking at his surroundings, – You just built an entire garden of new variations of narcissus in a matter of weeks. It is just my opinion but, despite not reaching your goal, you have all the reasons to proud, my y/n.

You had this sensation that Hades found something on your notes – maybe the mistake you’ve been making or the reason, the element you were yet to add to your formula, but it was currently out of your possibilities – but instead of talking about it, he preferred to use his time to encourage you.

You sighed.

– It’s not that I don’t like what I’ve produced until now. I love all of this – you made a gesture with your hands, indicating your creations – I mean, who wouldn’t love to work on something that would be impossible in their own homeland? Still, being aware of your own limitations is tiring sometimes… even for us.

Hades turned his eyes to you in a curious manner; however, he didn’t share whatever important discovery he did at that very moment with you, suddenly changing the subject with no additional explanations.

– Will you come with me for a moment? – he offered his hand – There’s something I need you to see. Well, actually, it is a place I want to show you.

You looked all over your table and frowned.

– Right now? I’m a bit occupied…

– It won’t take too long, I promise – he assured you – You will be back to continue your experiments when you least expect. And in a lighter mood, I hope.

You surrendered, holding his hand with both of yours with a smile: maybe you really needed a break from your efforts.

– If you say so…

Hades gave one last look at the narcissus before taking you out of the Greenhouse.

– Not only this, but maybe we can even find a spot for these wonderful mistakes here.

***

Though Valhalla was a seemingly borderless place, you somehow thought you’ve already met any space where your people were allowed to step in, so when Hades said that he wanted you to meet a new place, you felt as curious as you haven’t been in a while.

However, when you noticed he was leading you to a zone you knew to be exclusive for the gods, your curiosity turned into suspicion.

You were now crossing a narrow path of white stones that led to a high building of the same shade, except for the golden decorations surrounding the columns and the frames of the windows; the building was located behind great golden gates that were opened at that moment. You didn’t take long to understand of kind of place it was.

You stopped midway, making your partner stop too.

– Wait, this is a lodge, right? – you frowned – Are you sure that I can enter it? I don’t want to cause any problems…

Hades showed no worries concerning your presence there. Letting go of your hand, he caressed the top of your head.

– You can enter as long as you have permission – he explained – There won’t be any problem as long as you stay with me.

After you crossed the gates and stopped in front of the building, he stretched his hand to the great doors, opening the way for you.

***

The place was more like an apartment than a room, for various reasons: first, it was larger than any other place you’ve visited at Valhalla; second, by the number of doors and openings on the walls visible when you entered the private sections, you supposed that there was a reasonable number of departments which use would go beyond the bed area.

The first thing you saw when you stepped into the chambers was what looked like a living room or a space dedicated to visitors. The walls, covered in a purple wallpaper with a sophisticated pattern representing flowers and almonds, were extremely high for a common room, at least the ones you were used to find in the houses of your acquaintances in Midgard; perhaps those ones were an example of what you would find at a noble residence. There were a sofa and two upholstered chairs with a shade similar to the one of the walls, and a small table was placed at the center. The decoration consisted in small statues that reminded you of the ones at the Gardens, vases and exotic flowers. The walls, by the way, were covered in oil paintings that represented episodes from the stories told by Hades, all of them made in aged gold.

You didn’t need any explanations to guess what kind of place was that.

So… he brought me here to show me the room where we will spend our honeymoon.

He closed the door behind you and stopped by your side, smiling at your silence and your widened eyes.

– If only you could see the glimmer in your eyes now, little one – he commented – I feel like I should have introduced you to this place earlier.

You felt your cheeks getting warm and smiled.

– So… This is where you’ve been hiding for all this time? – and, looking around, – It’s quite comfortable.

He laughed.

– Actually, I’ve been using a different apartment, closer to Hermes’ chambers. It made it easier to approach you, since this building here is isolated.

You were staring at the flowers while he spoke, and didn’t take long to notice they were natural. You turned to him with a mixture of diversion and suspicion.

– Still, you’ve been here before taking me with you, right? – you pointed at the flowers – Otherwise, who’s been taking care of these flowers for you?

Hades pretended to be surprised for a second before start laughing.

– Loki was right when he said it was impossible to lie to you, then – he passed an arm around your waist and caressed your face – But let me tell you that this time you’re mistaken. These plants had their structure modified in order to increase their lifespan, so that they’ve been here for quite some time, being maintained with little effort from the elves’ part.

You shrugged.

– Really?

He nodded.

– Really. Now, allow me to show you the rest.

At the back of that room, at the same direction of the entry, there was a pair of doors of the same material of the first ones. Hades took you by the hand to them, then opened them both with a push of his free palm.

***

The bedroom had each corner built in art, beauty and exuberance.

The walls were covered in a softer version of the wallpaper you found at the living room, creating the sensation that the room was larger; the ceiling, just like the one of a church, had a Classic oil painting that would spread throughout its extension, exhibiting peaceful scenes of nature and mundane life.

At the center of the place, you saw the largest bed your imagination could conceive, with big pillows and cushions, covered with rosy, satin sheets. Above the upholstered headboard, there was an enormous tapestry which borders were sewn in golden threads, but it was the image depicted in the fabric that enchanted you: a garden that reminded you of the ones prepared for humans at Valhalla, full of fruit trees and lush grass; in a clearing formed among those trees, there was a group of nymphs on barefoot, with white dresses and flower crowns on their heads, holding hands to form a circle, dancing while the winds would blow in their wild hair (one of them even lost her crown, but didn’t mind stopping the dance to get it back); at the picture’s left, in the background, there was a faun sitting on a rock, dangling his hairy legs and playing a syrinx while birds and other small animals surrounded him. Framing this tapestry, there was a pair of curtains, opened and wrapped with golden threads on each side of the bed; they were connected to a woody structure that formed a sort of canopy. In front of the bed, there was an arc of bronze following the bed’s width, and under it a heavy carpet.

At your right, there was a pair of rosy doors that would lead to a balcony, while at your left you saw a few doors that you supposed to take the visitor to bathrooms, a kitchen or other essential departments. You looked around, searching for any source of artificial light, but couldn’t find any lamps; instead you saw candle holders at each wall.

Everything was clean, well built, luxurious… and a bit outdated.

Your silence might have caused a bit of discomfort, because Hades turned to you and politely asked for a verbal response.

– So… what do you think?

You looked at him, opened your mouth and closed it again.

Heavens, how am I going to tell him that, despite being beautiful, this place looks like it’s been closed since the Middle Ages?

You didn’t want to hurt your lover’s feelings, of course, but you had to be honest. You decided to examine the territory.

– Of course I loved it, and I’m flattered that you brought me here in anticipation but... let me ask you… – you bit your lip – When was the last time you used these chambers?

Hades crossed his arms and took a moment trying to remember, and the answer he gave you was, at the same time, the type of thing you were expecting and the last thing you could imagine.

– Hm… a few years ago, in an emergency, when I, my brother Zeus, Shiva and Odin had to travel here and solve an issue involving the human Nostradamus and the Bifrost.

You stared at him for a while, not hiding your surprise. A few years ago, he was saying?

– Nostradamus? You mean, that man Nostradamus, who lived centuries ago?

– Yes.

– Well…

When he finally understood, he started to laugh, passing his arms around you.

– Of course, we can redecorate it with something… modern, little one – he kissed your cheek – We will do anything that brings comfort in this important moment.

– I apologize if it looks like I’m calling you an old man – you laughed in embarrassment – It’s just that… time runs faster for us.

He looked around, letting out a nostalgic sigh.

– I see – and, suddenly changing the subject, – So, if this is the case, hurry up, because there’s something you need to see right now.

With a cheerful smile, Hades took you by the hand through the balcony’s door before you could say anything in response.

The balcony wasn’t really large, and it was structured in delicacy and elegance: the parapet was built in white marble, with Spring concepts carved in the stone; at your right, you saw a small table and two chairs, and upon it a tiny, empty vase, while at your left there was a narrow spiral staircase leading upwards. You were taken through it by the hand, and when you finally reached the upper floor, your eyes widened.

A private garden was built there, as a smaller version of the Secret Garden, where you’ve lived the most important moments of your relationship until that day. There were statues of beautiful heroes and damsels, as well as others representing forest creatures and animals, and benches near them; there were fruit trees which height was probably modified in the Greenhouse in order to fit that space, something that worked perfectly as far as you could see; in the center of the garden, there was a fountain where the birds would bathe and drink water, and they all flied when you approached them, splashing drops at all directions and making you laugh. The floor was of reddish, rectangular blocks made of stone, and it formed a labyrinth of narrow paths that led to each corner of the garden, so that every of those beauties would be at your hands’ reach.

However, you couldn’t help noticing that there were some empty vases here and there, as well as spaces on the grass that could be used to grow new plants. You turned to Hades and questioned him about this.

– Do you remember when I said we could find a spot for your wonderful mistakes?

You opened your mouth in surprise. So this was what he had in mind?

– This soil is prepared to receive every new species created in the Greenhouse – he explained – So your flowers will never feel abandoned when we bring them here. Even after our departure to Hellheim.

You frowned, worried.

– So... they will stay here?

– The elves will take care of them, so you don’t need to worry – he smiled – Besides… who told you that you will never return to Valhalla?

– But I thought…

– Yes, travels from Hellheim to Valhalla have been rare, with important events and crisis being the exceptions. But this is while I lived alone – Hades caressed your hair – Now, with a beloved wife by my side, changes in this sense are expected.

Your cheeks warmed up. Being called like that, even when you were still human and not married, made your heart skip. You wrapped your arms around your lover and laid your head on his chest, trying to find out if the same happened to his heart as well.

– Thank you for everything – you whispered – Thank you for your love.

– No – he replied – Thank you for your love.

***

The conversation that took place when you walked down the stairs and went back at the balcony was one that you knew you should have, sooner or later; well, actually you’ve been trying to find an opportunity to have it the last days, but no appropriate moment came. Now that you were at the very place where you should become a married woman, you understood that the time you’ve been waiting for has finally come.

While you stopped at the parapet to appreciate the landscape, your deliberations didn’t go unnoticed by Hades.

– Is it just me or have you been a bit nervous since you came here? – he started; and with a playful smile, – Is there something bothering you besides the decoration?

You giggled.

– I don’t know if bothering is the best word for this, but… Yes, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you for days – you took his hands on yours – You know, I’ve already told you that I’ve been in a few relationships, but all of them were too brief, so that they didn’t develop into something more… serious, intimate.

It didn’t take long for him to understand.

– Are you telling me that you’ve never been touched?

A heat came up to your face at those words: though you had no restraints in your communication, it still had a strange impact to hear him speak straight about this.

You nodded in confirmation.

��� You’re the first person with whom I’ve got this far in a relationship, so… Yes, you will be my first.

Hades brushed your hair behind your ear.

– So, not being experienced makes you afraid? But what exactly do you fear?

You sighed.

– I fear that I end up not knowing how to… behave… That I feel uncomfortable... and mess up everything... and look ridiculous... and disappoint you…

Holding your face with both hands, his response was to give you a long kiss on your forehead.

– If these are the things you fear, then let’s not allow them to happen – he replied – When the time comes and you sense them approaching, just tell me, and we will take care of them together. Sounds good for you?

– Sounds perfect – you smiled, putting your hands upon his – Thank you for understanding.

– And thank you for sharing this with me, my y/n – he sighed – Since you decided to speak about this… There’s something I’d like to share with you too.

– Really? And what is it?

That time, Hades was the one who showed hesitation in his manners.

– It’s been a while… Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship. Before I met you, I’ve already forgotten how it felt like – he lowered his tone – Besides, I’ve never touched a human being, so, in a certain way, it will be a first time for me too.

That revelation changed the entire way you saw him. By the stories you’ve always heard about the gods and their interactions with humans, you knew that romantic and sexual relationships between the two species – which many times resulted in the birth of beings called demigods – was a common place, so the possibility of it not being the case with the King of the Underworld was something that never occurred to you. But now that you thought of it, it made sense: he has been living in a domain to where your people would only go after dying, and rarely left it without good reasons; besides, by what he told you about his family life, it was implied that he has been so busy with the matters involving his brothers that his personal life was left aside for what might be equal to ages. Indeed, there never seemed to be room for humans in his life before – which meant that having his private life back in the company of a human girl might have sounded like an intense, even scary experience to him.

– So – you started – Does this make you nervous?

– I bit… I think.

The blush you noticed on his cheeks made you smile.

In an imitation of Hades’ gesture, you brought you hands to his face, then stood on tip toes to reach his lips with yours: that was your time to assure him.

– If this will be a first time for both of us, let’s take care of it together – you whispered – Sounds good for you?

He laughed at this: seeing you use his words against him was just too funny.

So he decided to join the game.

– Sounds perfect.

Part XVII