#IT SOUNDS SO COOL AND IT SOUNDS LIKE IN THE PAST? LIKE IF SHE WAS STILL IN THE CONSTEST

[aurynsia]

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ��౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me���” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[mapiforpresident]

Its Always Been You

alexia x reader

~~~

The stadium lights cast a soft glow over the pitch as you and Alexia jogged toward the center circle. Training had ended hours ago, but the two of you lingered, just like you had so many times before. The empty stands echoed with the faint sounds of your laughter as you passed the ball back and forth, the simplicity of it grounding you in a way few things could.

It had been this way for as long as you could remember. You and Alexia, side by side, growing up in the small fields of Mollet del Vallès, dreaming of someday making it big. You’d shared everything—trophies, heartbreaks, and countless late-night talks under the stars about life and love. But it wasn’t until this past year that you truly understood how much she meant to you.

"Still got it," Alexia teased, nudging the ball toward you with a grin.

"Always," you replied, stopping it effortlessly under your foot. "But you’re slowing down, old lady."

Alexia laughed, rolling her eyes. "I’m six months older than you. Don’t push your luck."

You smirked, but the familiar ease between you made your chest ache. You weren’t sure when it started—this shift in your feelings for her—but now it was undeniable. The way her laugh lit up your world. The way her eyes held yours a second too long. The way being around her felt like coming home.

“Remember when we were kids and used to stay out here until it was too dark to see the ball?” she asked, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.

You nodded. “Your mom would come yelling, telling us to get inside before we caught a cold.”

“She always thought you were the bad influence.”

“Me? You’re the one who insisted on practicing corners for hours,” you shot back.

Alexia shrugged, her smile turning softer. “Maybe. But look where we are now.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything stilled. Time, space, the years you’d spent as teammates, friends—everything came rushing back. You thought about all the people you’d dated, all the moments you’d tried to fill the void that only she could seem to occupy. It had taken you thirty years to realize it, but Alexia had been right there all along.

The silence stretched too long, so you nudged the ball toward her and said, “How about a little one-on-one? Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

Alexia grinned, accepting the challenge. You both fell into the rhythm of the drill, laughter mixing with the sound of your feet pounding the turf. She was quick, as always, and for a second, you forgot about the feelings bubbling beneath the surface. You were just two players, pushing each other like you’d done your whole lives.

Then you lunged to steal the ball, and your foot caught hers. Alexia stumbled, and before you could stop your momentum, you fell on top of her.

“Lex! Are you okay?” you asked, heart pounding as you scrambled to brace yourself, your hands on either side of her head.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, laughing breathlessly. Her hands instinctively landed on your waist to steady you.

You looked down, your faces only inches apart, and froze. Her eyes met yours, wide and glinting under the lights. Time seemed to stand still. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest beneath you, her warmth radiating against you in the cool night air.

“Y/N…” she said softly, her voice almost trembling.

Before you even registered what you were doing, you leaned in. Your lips brushed hers, tentative at first, as if you were testing the waters. But the moment her mouth moved against yours, the hesitation melted away. You kissed her like she was the only thing tethering you to the earth, pouring years of unspoken emotions into that single moment.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, and so was hers. Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or an explanation.

“I—” you started, but Alexia’s hand moved to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… was that real? Because I’ve been dreaming about it for a while.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “You have?”

Alexia nodded, her hand still resting on your face. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t think you felt the same way.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, more disbelief than humor. “Are you kidding? Lex, you’ve been my whole world. I just— I didn’t realize it until recently.”

She smiled then, a slow, breathtaking smile that made your chest ache in the best way. “I guess we’ve been wasting a lot of time, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But we’ve got forever now.”

She nodded, her forehead pressing against yours as she whispered, “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll hold me close,” she murmured. “Don’t let me go.”

You smiled, leaning into her touch. “I promise.”

The two of you stayed there for what felt like hours, tangled together in the center circle under the Barcelona sky. For the first time in your life, everything felt exactly as it should.

~~~

requests are open especially for:

Patri x reader x Pina

Alexia x reader

Mapi x Ingrid x reader

Lena Oberdorf

[loveandleases]

Tormenting Chris and Jade submission for balance: I forgot to ask how they'd react to the poly route with Kara X Isaac. Chris's desire to love and support Kara in direct opposition to their desire to judge any dynamic with Isaac--

Love having some balance. (Called for a scenario so rest will be under the cut!)

Chris taps along their phone, their finger hovering just above the screen, caught between pressing and not pressing, between action and restraint. One name. One person their mind refuses to release. They can still see your face clearly; hear the way their name sounds when it leaves your lips. Their expression is taut, posture rigid as they scan the apartment around them—pristine, perfect, just like their life used to be. Until you came into it.

A scoff escapes their lips as they run a hand through their icy-blonde hair. How typical, they think, people stirring up trouble, thinking Chris cares what you do.... How did they even know? Is it in their face? In the way their thoughts creep in, reminding them of what was lost—or what, no, who, they tossed aside?

Jade’s voice rings in Chris’s ears, the memory of her words sharp and biting: “MC was always so hard to please, always unsatisfied despite everything our parents had given them. Since they couldn’t have you, they settled for Kara. Isaac was just the cherry on top—a person with a jaded past that they could take pity on. Along for the ride, because everyone knows the rumors about Isaac. Never staying with someone for too long unless they get bored.”

Their jaw tenses as their eyes linger on the photo laid out on the coffee table—your smile, a smile they hadn't seen in so long. You give it so freely, so easily. To Isaac and Kara of all people. One on either side of you, Kara’s lips close to your ear, whispering something while Isaac’s hand rests casually on your knee. Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara, not after everything Chris learned. They deserve to be with you even less. The number of times they’ve seen their hand roam on people’s bodies…they shouldn’t be touching you so freely. So openly. Where people can see, where Chris can see.

The photo cuts deeper than Chris anticipated, and before they can stop themselves, their fingers are already dialing Kara’s number. Their leg begins to shake with annoyance, the phone ringing louder than their pulse. Kara always picked up quickly—never more than three rings. So why isn’t she now? Was there always something there? Was there something going on behind the scenes?

Were the two of you… no, Kara wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t do that to me.

Kara finally answers, her voice groggy with sleep. “Hello?”

Chris freezes. It’s four in the morning. They’d spent the whole night obsessing, thinking about the three of you—disgusting.

Chris opens their mouth to speak, but the sound of Isaac’s groan and your voice cuts through the silence. “Who is it?”

The question makes their blood run cold. You’re both there? Why are you with her?

“Chris?” Kara’s voice breaks through their thoughts, sharp and concerned.

“Tell me this is a joke.” Chris’ voice cracks, disbelief flooding their words. They force out a thin, bitter laugh. “This is a joke, isn’t it, Kara?”

“Chris, how di—”

“Let me talk to them.”

“Wh—who?”

“Let me talk to my fiancé.”

The line grows quiet, and Chris can’t help but imagine the look that passes over the three of you.

“Former fiancé,” Isaac adds, a cool edge to his voice, as Kara reluctantly hands you the phone.

“Why are you with them?” Chris’s voice is quieter now, rawer, the reality of it all begins to settle in.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Another scoff. Chris’s anger surges, bubbling up and threatening to spill over. “Of course it’s my business. You’re my f—” They stop themselves, letting the word die on their tongue.

A heavy sigh escapes them as they lean back against the couch. “You’re my ex-fiancé. Do you realize how this looks? Fucking my little sister and her friend. After everything, this is how you repay me?”

“This has nothing to do with you. Who I’m with is none of your concern, Chris. Kara might be your sister, but you don’t own her, or me, for that matter.” Your words are sharp, almost like a smack to the face.

Chris’s fingers twitch, plucking at the photo until the three of you are separated—tearing you apart. “And Isaac, what? You just had to bring the trash with you, Kara? It’s not bad enough you’re sharing a bed with my ex, but now you’ve got your friend, too?” Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara. Especially once Chris had their background looked into. No, they don’t deserve Kara and they deserve you even less.

“Stop it, Chris.”

Despite the tightness in her chest, the guilt she carries, Kara can’t bring herself to yell. Not yet. “Don’t talk about them, about us, like you know what’s going on. You don’t know anything about it. We’re happy. I’m happy.” Her voice cracks, and for a moment Chris feels a feeling in their gut. One they’re afraid to give a name, because why should Chris Clarke feel guilty? “Isn’t that enough?”

It should be. Chris knows that deep down, under all the anger, the pain, and the jealousy, they should be happy for Kara. She found people who love her. But that gnawing feeling inside them won’t let go. The more they try to bury it, the more it consumes them. They can’t shake the feeling that you’re slipping further away—both of you.

For a long moment, they just sit there, lost in their thoughts. Kara hangs up the phone, but it doesn't stop the storm inside them from raging. Their words tumble out, raw and desperate. “You deserve better than that. Better than them. Aren’t I enough?” They know who the questions are for, and the thought alone sickens them.

[avatarofthetired]

Listening to the TMA directors commentary and it’s really just so cool to hear how they started and how far they’ve come from THEIR perspective

Like they were just some people with an idea determined to make it happen, and they Made It Happen

Further notes and little things below

At 30:25 ish on Spotify Jonny and Alex are talking about their homemade sound effects and such and then you just hear Jon go *gasp* oh sorry, I just heard Sasha I mean Georgie :D and you can hear the smile in his voice it’s so wholesome

I forgot how much I LOVED Jessica Law as Nikola, she absolutely killed it

36:43 “!!!! OHHHH PIG !!! PIG :D“ “oh is it pig?!?!” “PIG :o” “monstah piiiiiiig” “I love monster pig :D”

Blast-From-The-Past-Counter - 2

[pinkpastels113]

romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours)

also on ao3

a/n:

for @mcrololo and @shikariix <33 did i listen to paris by taylor swift and enchanted on repeat the entire time while writing this?? maybe... also thanks for the idea/encouragement to write this based on this tumblr post @pyresrpgear!! hope you like this as well :))

People often forget that you can find romance in the most mundane of things, that love exists in the most simplest of gestures.

Chloe was getting some water at the fountain in the common area of Beca’s music label when one of these moments happened.

“Shoot your shot!”

Chloe turns at the sound of the man’s voice behind her. It belonged to one of Beca’s coworkers and she can just make out him slipping behind the wall of the opening to the common area with a subtle wink before her attention lands on Beca, her wife, walking towards her, her own water bottle in tow.

Chloe grins, as she always does when in the same vicinity as the love of her life. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Beca chuckles, nervously, and lifts a hand to rub it at the nape of her neck as if working up the courage to pop the following question:

“You’re really cute. Wanna go out with me?”

Her dark blue eyes are downcast, just like that time eight years ago when they were both in their twenties in university, high on the serotonin and adrenaline of yet another win with their Bellas, after a group hug, when Beca had also asked her out with the same expression, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and a hopeful lift to her eyebrows. 

Chloe’s heart leaps in her chest in the exact same way back then, too, now, like she had been waiting forever for that feeling, that confirmation, that Beca liked her back in that all consuming, I-might-be-sick overwhelming way that Chloe had felt towards her best friend ever since she’d joined their silly little acapella group. 

(Even though Chloe considers herself a romantic– she had been reading romance novels ever since middle school, after all– she feels like Beca might just secretly be a bigger one.)

She sets aside her water cup, reaches forward and repeats the gesture with Beca’s, in favor of taking both of Beca’s hands in hers. Beca’s fingers were cold, so she threads them together and squeezes to breathe some warmth into them. 

“Yes. Of course I would love to go out with you.”

Beca’s face lit up, like a dang near Christmas tree, and her lips quirk into a huge relieved smile just like they did when Chloe had first said yes all those years ago as well. (Pft, as if Chloe could say no.) She returns Chloe’s squeeze. 

“Cool beans.”

And it may be cheesy, and corny, and just a tad bit dumb especially since both of their matching wedding rings are digging into their skins, but it still made Chloe’s day. She already knew that nothing would wipe that dopey grin off her face for the next twenty four hours, and she’s completely satisfied with that fact.

When they got home later that day, after dinner and they’re cuddling on the couch with the heater on and a movie playing in the background, Chloe talks about it, mentioning the shoot your shot comment.

“Was he new or something? What was that about?”

Beca snorts, burying her face into the crook of Chloe’s neck where her breath ghosts over Chloe’s collarbones, “Nah. I told him that I was about to ask out the hottie at the fountain and he’s simply encouraging me. He knows that we’re married, Chlo. Just cheering me on like the dork that he is.”

“Like the dork that you are, you mean,” Chloe corrects, pressing a soft kiss to the center of Beca’s forehead. She finds the whole thing incredibly cute, even though it was small and mundane.

Who says romance is dead just because you’re married? It survives even past death, unlike those classic vows for marriage.

[rebelliousstories]

A Thief and An X-Man

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,738

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Southern charm is a thing. Something that Remy LeBeau has taken advantage of over the years. All it took was one little X-Man to throw him off his rhythm apparently…

How everyone found themselves in their own current predicament, only the universe knows. The tomfoolery that had followed them during their journey was like something straight out of a superhero book.

Remy panted and hugged his side as he rested against the brick wall behind him. His partner in crime, albeit a reluctant one, mirrored his actions against the other wall of the alleyway. She was glaring hard in between her pants in an attempt to catch her breath.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you Cajun?” There were shouts and the pounding of footsteps getting closer and closer.

“What can I say, chere? I like pretty things.” The weight of the jewels in his pocket weighed down under her gaze.

“We’re being chased because you couldn’t keep your greedy little hands off of stuff that doesn’t belong to you!” Her words were almost drowned completely out by the pounding of footsteps.

Making a split second decision, Remy grabbed her hand and began to haul the woman towards a fire escape that was already pulled down. She was confused, but faced with the possibility of the men that were chasing them catching up? She would take the fire escape with the thief. As soon as they had made it up onto the roof of whatever building this was, Remy leaned over the edge to get a look at their personal mob that now ran by the building and alleyway they had disappeared into. With a smirk, he laid down on the cool tiles below.

“We safe now,” she questioned, almost ready to run again.

“I wouldn’t be layin’ down if we weren’t. Now would I, chere?” His eyes slipped closed as he relaxed as much as he could.

“Oh, of course. Because I should be trusting the person who got us into this mess, to be honest and truthful when he is a known Thief, to get us out of this mess. Wolverine needs to come and extract me right now.” Her grumbling was followed by the sound of her trying to use her transponder. With a frustrated groan, it clattered to the ground when it would not work.

For three days, she had been stuck in Louisiana with the leader of the Thieves Guild. A mission that she had been sent on alone to help the X-Men get a relic that needed to be kept out of the wrong hands. Had they been able to do it solo, they would have. But the Thieves were the only people who had made it to where they needed her to go, and made it back out. Thus, an unlikely alliance was made. And from that point forward, she had been subjected to the rugged charms of the one they call Gambit.

From the second she walked up to him, she had been the focus of his flirtations. Maybe it was the fact that she was a new pretty face for him. Or maybe it was that fact that she was “forbidden fruit” being an X-Man. Whatever it was, for the past three weeks, she had been subject to every one liner and flirty comment.

In all honesty, she did not mind the banter that they usually had. It was better than being with someone that did not talk much, like a certain X-Man she knew. But it was annoying once he got into a flirtatious mood.

“Ooo, chere. Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven? You look so angelic.”

“Shut up, Cajun.”

“Here, let Gambit take care o’ dat for ya. Ain’t no reason to sweat your pretty brow.”

“If Gambit don’t give me back my tools, I’m not gonna sweat my brow over putting him down.”

It was like this for three days. Any chance he got, he took. She could see that he was just doing it to get a rise out of her, since she refused to be another notch on his belt. Even though some times, she could almost swear there was something genuine about the affectionate quips he made. A sharp bark pulled her from her thoughts and brought her attention to the transponder that was still down by her feet. Careful not to step on it, she opened it to be met with the authoritative voice of a certain Canadian calling her name.

“Where have you been? You were supposed to check in an hour ago, bub.” He was upset, that was for sure. But after all these years, she could hear through the layers to his tone and knew it was just because he cared for his team like his own family.

“Wolverine, I’m fine. We ran into a snag but we should be getting back on track soon. The communicator wouldn’t work earlier or I would have checked in at the appropriate time,” came her retort. A groan trailed into a sigh on the other end of the line.

“Just be safe, kid. Let me know when you get the relic. We’ll be waiting to extract you when you need it.” His voice lowered in volume, and his tone shifted.

“Will do, Wolvie. Just gotta get this Cajun to actually get me to the place, then we’ll be on our way home.” With that, the two X-Men signed off from each other. She sat there for a moment longer as she began to rub her temples. The evening breeze was welcome against her flushed face.

“So you and da Wolverine, huh?” Gambit’s sudden ask brought her out of her head quick.

“What? Me and him? No, god no. We just work well together. He’s the one that got me into the school. Got me into the X-Men,” she stood, and looked around the night sky that was sprinkled with lights. “You gonna take me where I need to go, or do I need to find another thief to do it?”

“Oh, you wound me, chere. Suppose if ya did that, I could call another X-Man to grab the item with me instead.” He teased, finally rising to his feet.

With fluid movements, like that of a skilled ballet dancer, Remy looked towards the streets again. The mutant dubbed them safe enough, and began his descent down the same fire escape that he had them go up on. She followed after him, always maintaining a bit of distance between them as they went closer and closer to where they needed to go.

A well lit mansion greeted the two mutants after a while. This was the house that she had been searching for. She was finally here. Once again, she followed Gambit’s lead. After all, he and his guild made it out of here before with their pockets loaded. They could do it one more time.

Gambit caused a minor explosion on one of the windows in the back of the building making her flinch as she expected the commotion to begin. And yet, there was nothing. No alarms, no dogs barking or humans shouting. He turned back to the stunned woman with nothing short of a pompous smirk on, before he climbed through the window. She took his hand to help stabilize her while she was slipping through the opening.

They had ended up in the west wing of the mansion, only a few doors down from the room that they needed to go to. She had no time to be stunned at how efficient this mutant was seeing as he was already grabbing her hand to pull her through the house. Their journey was cut short when they spotted guards walking towards them in the hallway. Remy tucked them both against a wall that was out of sight, but knew they did not have long. Scanning around, he did not see a spare room or broom closet. He tried not to show the panic on his face, but he could feel his heart speeding up.

“They not supposed to be here, chere. We gotta go back out.” But when he tried to leave, the sounds of quiet conversation and boots on the hardwood floor were far too close now.

“Go with me,” was all the warning that the Cajun was given. In an instant, she made him press her against the wall. What he did not expect even more than that, was the fact that she had him engaged in a full lip lock. Stunned did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. Here this woman was, kissing him voluntarily, after spending the last three days shutting him down at every chance.

Losing himself in the moment that he wished would never end, Remy kept one of his hands on the wall near her head, while the other went to the dip of her waist. Her hands came up and pressed him even closer by the nape of his neck. This was a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream that he did not want to wake from. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for him. Right as he was truly enjoying the moment, a wolf whistle caught his attention. But she did not let him turn around. Instead, she pressed his face into her neck while she shouted at the guards that had finally rounded the corner.

“Cad é? Cad atá tú ag féachaint air?” Now that was a language Remy had never heard spoken. His confused face was stuck in the crook of her neck, while he felt her shooing the men away. Apparently, they were just as confused as he was, but left without complaint. As soon as they were away from the par of mutants, she pushed Remy back a bit.

“Now, where in da world is dat language from, chere? Gambit ain’t never heard nothin’ like it in his whole life.” He was a bit out of breath but it was understandable.

“I used to go visit my grandmother in Ireland when I was a kid. She made me fluent in Gaelic.” She was just as out of breath as him, but neither called attention as to the reason why.

They both sat there for a moment, not moving from their spots where they were oh so close to one another. This was the closest they had been physically the entire time they had been working together. And it was breaking down barriers that had been put in place for their own sanity and safety.

“Let’s get going before someone else catches us and we can’t get out of it as easily,” she stated breathily. For her own sake, she needed to do something, and soon before she could not stop herself. Remy nodded to himself, to confirm that he had heard her or to shake himself out of his own stupor, who knows. But soon, they were back on track with him grabbing her hand and leading them to the room once more.

Gambit made quick work of picking the lock, and then they were inside. Encased in glass was a small pendant and necklace. Unassuming at first, but they knew better. This one little artifact was responsible for so much suffering around the world, and more of it if they did not get it out of non-mutant hands. Remy approached the glass case and looked for a way to get it open without disturbing it too much. But the sound of glass shattering spooked him, made him jump back from the shards.

“You were taking too long.” She shrugged, turning back to look at the pendant. Pulling out her own case for the necklace, she tried very hard not to touch the jewel in the center. Once it was secured, Remy did another look out to make sure that the coast was clear.

“Let’s get going, chere. Don’t want no unwelcome guests taggin’ along now.” The two mutants slipped out the same way that they entered. It was such a shock for her, not having any hangups during a mission. Usually it was every chance the universe got to make something go wrong, it did. So to have one go this smoothly was a welcomed change of pace.

They fled into the night before them, and did not look back until they were safe in the heart of New Orleans once more. Lights, music, and conversation drowned out any and all thoughts they had for just a minute or two. Instead of going somewhere quiet and out of the way, Gambit ended up leading them further not the heart of the city to a late night cafe.

As soon as they sat down, he ordered something for them both to eat and drink, but she was not paying any attention to him. Instead, she was trying to figure out how she was going to discreetly call her team back at the mansion to go home. For some reason though, it was not working right now.

“This thing has been finicky the entire time I’ve been here. Doesn’t know whether or not it wants to work when I need it to.” She lamented, tossing the item down onto the table before them.

“So, now that you got whatcha came here for, just gonna head home? Like that?” There was a mournful tone to his voice that did not miss her ears. Neither one needed to say exactly why he sounded so upset at her leaving, or rather neither wanted to acknowledge why he was upset.

“Well, there’s always someone else that needs saving. Or a disaster that needs to be avoided,” she said, watching his face carefully.

“Right, right…” he trailed off, not quite knowing where to take it from here. Thankfully, a waitress came by with two bowls, and two drinks for them to enjoy.

“What on earth did you order for me?” Poking her spoon around in the stew like dish in front of her, she arched an eyebrow and looked at the Cajun.

“Dat right der is what we call gumbo, chere. It’s real good. Gotta use dat piece o’ baguette at the end though.” When she still did not eat, he tried a different tactic. “Come on. Humor me before ya head on home, chere?”

If you ever asked her, she would vehemently deny that she had given in to the soft way he pleaded with her. Bringing the spoonful of hot stew and rice to her lips, a symphony of flavors erupted on her tongue. It was unlike anything she had ever eaten. The chicken, sausage and shrimp were so tender and perfectly cooked. The veggies melted, and the rice was the perfect binder.

While she was busy devouring her food, Remy was taking that time to lock in on her joyful face. If this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to make it count. But his day dreaming was interrupted by the transponder on the table suddenly jumping to life. As fast as she could, she set down her spoon, wiped her face, and grabbed the item.

“Wolverine,” she began, “listen, I got the necklace. Ready when you are on the extraction.”

Her eyes drifted over to the man in front of her who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation happening two feet away from him. The long she listened to Wolverine talk, and watched Remy’s face, the more her heart moaned in pain. It was an unusual feeling to have, especially for someone that she swore she did not get along with or that she had not known for too long.

“Kid, we’ll be there in a couple hours, okay? We’re gonna track you by your communicator and then we’ll-”

“Actually, Wolvie,” she cut the man off, “I think I’m gonna stick around New Orleans for a few days. Just to make sure that nobody comes looking for this thing. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come home.”

The transponder was shut off fast, and tucked into one of the pockets of her uniform. When she looked up again, the startled face of Gambit greeted her. His eyes were wider than the bowls they were eating out of, but she paid it no mind. Picking up her spoon again, she sent a teasing smirk across the table.

“Hope you don’t mind that I’ll be sticking around a little more.” She brought another spoonful of gumbo to her mouth while Gambit took a minute to recover.

“Not at all, chere. Not at all.”

[hihomeghere]

Baptized by Fire : Chapter Four

Summary : Charles and Arthur both face their true feeling about you and each other. While you come to terms with your past and future. Word Count : 4.1k Warnings/Tags : Mlm, Charles Smith x Arthur Morgan, oral m!receiving, mentions of death, dead body, mention of gunshot wound, cursing, fire, smoke inhalation, angst, miscommunication, Arthur Morgan x reader, Charles Smith x reader, Arthur Morgan x reader x Charles smith, cliffhanger (whoops) let me know if I missed any

Previous/Next

Charles didn’t sleep well that night, he didn’t understand why until his hand reached out to the cold side of the bed. Reaching for Arthur’s warm freckled back to bury his face in. Only to find the cool sheets in his wake.

It was barely light, the sun just peeking over the horizon. Casting a bright ochre glow across the sky, slowly engulfing the dark blue. He could see clouds darkening in the distance as he rubbed his eyes, putting on his trousers and shirt. 

He walked out into the main room, softly closing the door behind him. Arthur sat in front of the fire, wrapped in a plaid blanket.

“You’re up early.” He said, waking over to him, his arms crossed as he waited for him to take the bait.

“Sun woke me up.” Arthur mumbled, a weak lie, staring into the fireplace.

“Did you come to bed last night?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped in front of Arthur. Arthur huffed, mirroring Charles’ stance as he crossed his arms. 

“No.” Arthur grumbled, lowering his eyes. Too tired to think up a lie, besides Charles would see right through it. Charles sighed, walking over to the mantle. He leaned his elbow against it, enjoying the warmth after leaving the cold sheets. “She’s still planning on leavin’.” Arthur huffed, his jaw ticking. 

“I know.” Charles nodded, looking down. A low sigh leaving his lips. 

“Well what are we gonna do?” Arthur asked, leaning forward in his seat as he clasped his hands together.

“What do you suggest we do?” Charles asked, looking down at him. “Tell her she can’t leave? Hold her here as some prisoner?”

“No dammit.” Arthur huffed, rubbing the space between his brows. “But we can’t- we can’t let her go back to her bastard of a father. You remember those bruises, how she nearly jumped out of her damn skin when I walked toward her the other night?”

“Keep your voice down.” Charles warned, letting out a frustrated sigh “You think I like it any more than you do? You think I haven’t wanted to track that bastard down!” He asked, narrowing his eyes, “I’m trying to buy us more time, just like you. But we can’t stop her from leaving.” Arthur clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached, he hated when Charles was right, which was more often than not. 

“I- I just don’t want to see her hurt.” Arthur said after a moment. Charles sighed, looking down at the wooden floor.

“I don’t either.” He said, walking over to stand in front of Arthur. He reached down, grasping his shoulder. “But we can’t keep her here if she wants to leave.” Arthur kept his eyes low, his hand coming up to cover Charles’. He ran his thumb over the back of his hand, seeking comfort in the subtle motion. 

“And what if she wants to stay?” He asked, his voice tight. “We just pretend we ain’t… we ain’t the way we are?” He squeezed Charles' hand. 

“I won’t live like that.” Charles said, shaking his head, “I’m not ashamed.” Arthur’s stomach clenched, partly in affection and partly in dread.  Arthur got up, walking past Charles. He stood in front of the fireplace, crossing his arms as he stared down into the flames. A whirlwind of emotions rushing through him. 

“Do you love her?” It sounded more like a statement than a question as Arthur whirled around to stare at Charles. His jaw dropped along with his stomach as a scoff left his lips. 

“Damn it, I love you Charles.” He growled, taking a step closer to the man. His hand wrapped around the back of Charles’ neck as he pulled him close. “You.” He reiterated, squeezing his neck gently.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Charles said, his dark eyes almost obsidian as he stared into Arthur’s. “Do you love her?” His voice was level and deep, no hint of anger or jealousy. Arthur sighed, pressing his forehead against his. He knew no matter what he said, no matter how hard he lied, Charles would see right through his bullshit.

Charles nodded, his hand squeezing Arthur’s waist. “You love me and you love her?” Again, phrasing a damn question like some statement.

“You know I do.” Arthur huffed, his tense stance deflating as the truth was revealed. A moment of silence passed between them before Charles let out a soft laugh. 

“You’re not alone, partner.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Arthur furrowed his brows, his eyes flitting across Charles' face. Taking in his spreading grin. 

“You’re kidding?” Arthur asked, tilting his head slightly. Still not fully believing him. Charles shook his head, grinning at Arthur. Arthur pulled him forward, crashing his lips against his. 

“You think we still got time before she wakes?” Arthur asked breathlessly, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck.

“You think you can be quiet?” Charles chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Can you, big boy?” Arthur smirked, his cock twitching in his pants. Charles pulled him forwards, the two of them walking back into their bedroom. Arthur closed the door behind him with his foot, tugging his shirt over his head. Charles followed suit, unbuttoning his pants before stepping out of them. Arthur moved forward, gripping the hem of Charles’ shirt as he pulled it upwards. As soon as Charles’ skin was bared, Arthur wasted little time to cover him in open mouthed kisses. His hand reached into his thin trousers, pulling him out. Charles felt a shiver run up his spine as Arthur smeared pre-cum over his head. Stroking him until his dick rested against his stomach, thick and heavy. 

A wolfish grin took over Arthur’s expression as he pushed him to lay back on the bed. He grabbed himself through his pants, squeezing his cock as he tried to give himself some relief. Before he settled between Charles’ thighs. He ran his hands up the strong trunks. His thumb rubbing against the lightning strike stretch marks along his hips.

“Ever tell you how damn handsome you are?” Arthur asked reverently, his mouth nearly watering as he looked up at Charles. 

“Most days.” Charles chuckled breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at Arthur. He chuckled along, his breath ghosting against Charles' shaft. “Stop teasing.” He huffed, fidgeting under Arthur’s gaze.

“Don’t think you’re in a condition to make any demands there, Mr. Smith.” Arthur said, wrapping his hand around him, squeezing him at his base. Charles sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“C’mon Arthur.” Charles pleaded softly.

“I gotchu sweetheart.” He cooed as he began to stroke him. Lubricating his hand with the precum that dribbled out of Charles’ tip. Normally Arthur would prolong each moment shared between the two of them. Back at camp, it was always quick exchanges if they got the chance. At first it had been exhilarating, sneaking around under the cover of darkness or the thick trees. The only time he would really get to take his time is if they paid for a room at a hotel, which never happened. Their hands covering their mouths, muffling their moans and spewed curses. It got old quick, always within grasp of each other but unable to act on their urges. After Arthur’s diagnosis, they wanted each moment together to last a lifetime. Not knowing how much time he had left until Arthur’s lungs failed him. They got lucky, little by little he got better. But that didn’t mean they didn’t like to take their time. 

Arthur loved pulling the sweetest whimpers from Charles' lips. The way his brow would furrow, his plump lips parting as he grabbed at Arthur. Whether his hands grasped his hair or his ass, they always pulled him closer. 

But they didn’t have time for that now, he just wanted to make Charles cum. Hell he didn’t even care if he got off, he could live with the ache for a while. He wrapped his lips around his head, fondling Charles’ balls as he relaxed his jaw. Charles was by no means a small man. Charles grunted, his hand flying to Arthur’s shoulder, steadying himself as he tried not to blow his load too soon. 

“Fuck Arthur-“ He hissed, gritting his teeth as he strained his head upwards. Arthur hummed around him, hollowing his cheeks as he took more of him in his mouth. Enjoying the salty taste of him on his tongue. Charles was hanging on for dear life, it had been too long, and he was too pent up. The slightest touch from Arthur would have sent him over the edge. Not to mention how perfectly his lips were wrapped around his cock, his blue eyes meeting Charles’. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” He breathed, deep and ragged as he dug his dull nails into Arthur’s shoulder. Leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. Arthur braced himself, holding onto Charles’ thighs as he slid down further on his length until his nose was pressed up against his dark pubic hair. Then the bastard swallowed around Charles and he was gone. His body seizing up as he painted the inside of Arthur’s mouth with his seed. He bit down on his hand, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his lips. His eyes rolled back into his head as Arthur drank down everything he had to give him. Spent and boneless, Charles laid back against the bed. Arthur chuckled, pulling off him and wiping the corners of his mouth before climbing onto the bed beside him. 

Chatles rolled onto his side to face Arthur, a blissed out smile on his lips. 

“What?” Arthur asked, his own smile spreading on his lips. 

“You’re sure I’m the only man you’ve ever been with?” Charles asked, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips.

“Shut up.” Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes as he playfully shoved Charles. “C’mere.” He said, pulling him back towards in and into his arms. 

They weren’t planning on falling back asleep, but the post sex bliss drug Charles under and Arthur wasn’t far behind him. They woke maybe an hour later, Charles couldn't exactly tell as he rubbed his eyes. Pulling himself out of Arthur’s embrace, he shook him awake before getting dressed again.

“Surprised the cows haven’t broken out of the barn yet, you’re never this late getting them fed.” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as he threw his shirt back on. 

“Well, I haven’t gone out there yet, maybe they did break out.” He grinned looking over at Arthur.

“At least we got the girl this time. Maybe she’d be the one looking instead of the one being found.” Arthur said as he finished buttoning up his shirt. He pulled Charles towards him, his and wrapping around his waist as he pressed his lips to his. “Just one more.” He said softly, his other hand cupping Charles’ face. His thumb running over the jagged scar on his cheek. 

Charles smiled, leaning into his hand before they begrudgingly separated. Arthur walked out first, as to not draw suspicion if she was already out in the main room. They hadn’t heard her get up yet, but just in case. Charles waited a few minutes before he walked out of the bedroom. Arthur was feeding the fire, placing a few logs on top of the burning embers. Charles headed over to the coat rack, reaching for his coat when he noticed that Arthur’s blue coat was missing. He furrowed his brows as he continued to put on his gear, lacing up his boots. Your boots were gone, too.

“Think she got an early start.” Charles called to Arthur, “Probably out there with Taima already.” He said, shaking his head. 

“She’s really taken to her.” Arthur hummed looking up at him, “Be careful for Taima’ll like her more than you soon.”

“Think she might already.” He chuckled, “She didn’t warm up to me that quickly. I had to work for it.” He put his hat on, stepping outside. The cold nipped at his face, the wind had begun to pick up. Charles saw your boot prints down the porch, but as he followed them he noticed they didn’t lead to the barn. They lead to the south. They led to where Charles believed your fathers house was, where your home was. His stomach dropped like a rock, his mouth running dry as he turned back towards the cabin.

He flung the door open, not bothering to take off his boots as he ran to your room. You weren’t there. You hadn’t taken anything, leaving all the clothes you had been given tucked away in the trunk. 

Charles could hardly breathe.

“Charles, what the hell is going on!” Arthur asked, panic laced in his tone.

“She’s gone.”

-

You’d never been much of an early riser. Today however, something had pulled you from your sleep. Although it wasn’t the best night of sleep anyway. You had tossed and turned, your subconscious playing tricks on you as Charles and Arthur invaded your dreams. 

You rubbed your eyes, putting on your trousers and buttoning up your shirt. Perhaps you’d tailor a few of the shirts Arthur gave you after your lessons. You left your room, your brows furrowed as you looked around for Arthur. It wasn’t like him to sleep in late, and Charles’ hat and coat were still hanging by the door. The animals would need to be tended to soon, and he would never let them go hungry.

Arthur must have gone to bed late last night, after… after sketching you. Your heart fluttered at the memory, his large hands resting on his open journal. 

You shook your head, clearing the image from your mind. Well, no matter, you would go wake them up yourself. You walked over to the closed door, your ears perking up as you heard rustling from inside. You raised your fist to knock when you heard an unmistakable moan.

You froze, your hand inches from the door. You couldn’t have moved if you wanted to. No matter how loud the voice in your head screamed at you to get away, your feet were firmly planted. 

Maybe you had just heard wrong, maybe it was a groan or an innocent sound made while sleeping. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” The voice was muffled, but it was Charles. You gulped, your stomach dropping into your feet as you quietly reeled back from the door. Your hand reaching for purchase on the table as the life you had imagined crumbled around you. 

They didn’t have feelings for you. They had feelings for each other. 

You swallowed thickly, your mouth going dry as the pit in your stomach grew. God, you were a fool. How could you have not seen the signs? The lack of items in Charles ‘room’, the unspoken words that passed between them. You had been intruding on them this whole time. 

You wiped your nose off on your sleeve, tears stinging your eyes as you rushed back to your room. You wouldn’t force yourself in their space anymore. You had burdened them long enough. You tore off Arthur’s clothes, putting your blouse and skirt on. Charles said the cabin was a mile north of where he had found you those few weeks ago. Had it only been a couple of weeks? It felt like you had spent a lifetime with the two men, you wanted to spend your lifetime with them.

Enough of that, you wiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. They were foolish dreams to begin with. You couldn’t have one without losing the other, and you wouldn’t have done that. If only you had known neither of their hearts were available. The love that you harbored for the two men was wasted.

You were afraid to go out of your room, afraid you’d have to face them one last time. Luckily they were still in their room when you finally worked up the courage. The only other time you had laced up your boots so quickly was when you had left home. You opened the door, wincing as the wind blew into your face. You couldn’t go out there in just your skirt and blouse. You hesitated by the coat rack, your hand resting on Arthur’s coat. 

Perhaps some day you’d find a way to return it, although you knew that was wishful thinking. You threw the coat on, blinking away tears as you surrounded yourself with Arthur’s scent. Your hands lingered on Charles’ coat, and before you could stop yourself you brought the fabric to your nose. Inhaling his scent for the last time. You tried to commit it to memory, knowing you’d recall the smell when you were alone. Swallowing past the lump in your throat you took one last glance around the cabin. Your heart clenched in your chest as you pushed the door open. The cold wind hit you, cutting against your face like tiny blades. You held your hand up, shielding your face as you walked down the steps. Your feet sinking into the snow, the white powder rising above the tops of your boots. A shiver ran down your spine as you pushed forward, trying to ignore the coldness that seeped into your body. You looked over at the barn, considering for a moment if you should take one of the horses. You shook your head, knowing you are nowhere near close to riding on your own. Especially not in the snow like this, without Charles. Not to mention there would be no way to return Taima or Buell once you reached your father’s house. If you were thrown, you doubted they would know how to return home. You didn’t need another death hanging over your head, one was enough.

Your hands started to cramp, matching the freezing temperatures as you forged forward. You stole a glance over your shoulder, knowing you shouldn’t have. The cabin was still in your line of view, a beacon that called you back, called you home.

Your eyes began to water, you wished you could have blamed it on the cold but you knew that wasn’t true. You wiped away the moisture in your eyes, turning away from the log cabin and returning to your trek.

-

“How far do you think she made it?” Arthur asked, shoving his fingers into his gloves before putting on Charles’ coat.

”Hopefully the mile back to her father’s,” Charles huffed, pushing his arms through one of their shared coats. It didn’t offer the best heat, but he’d be damned if he had to think about you and Arthur facing the elements. “Tracks seemed fresh, she left this morning, not last night.” Thank god you hadn’t been so foolish as to leave under the cover of darkness. If you had got lost out there… he didn’t want to think about it.

“Damnit, why’d she go?” Arthur huffed, his voice tight and pained.

“I don’t know.” He said, shaking his head as he put his hat on. “Let’s just hope we find her.” The two men left the cabin, racing to the barn. It didn’t take them long to get the horses ready, their hooves plowing through the snow as they followed your trail.

-

You urged your numb feet forward, puffs of hot air leaving your lips as your father’s house came into view. Your hands itched as you tried to move your fingers. Climbing the stairs on shaky legs, you realized in your hurry that night you had left the door open. Snow covered the inside of the house, blanketing the furniture. Your stomach churned the further you ventured into the house. You stopped short as your eyes landed on your father’s body. You clamped your jaws shut, muffling the strangled groan that threatened to leave your lips. You turned away, moving as quickly as you could to the fireplace. Your traitorous hands stung like hell as you grabbed one of the logs. Tossing it into the fireplace you stumbled to your feet, searching for a box of matches. You breathed hot air onto your fingers, hoping to coax some movement back in them.

You struck the match against the side of the box three times before a flame burst forth. You tossed the stick onto the log, sinking to your knees as you watched the fire grow.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as feeling returned to your hands and feet. You hung your head, your body wracked with sobs. Everything that had been building for the last month came to a head. You got to your feet, rising with a newfound purpose as you walked towards your father’s carcass. Swiping the box of matches off the side table, you light one. Standing over his body, you dropped the match, watching as it fell and caught against the wooden floor. 

It doesn’t spread as fast as you’d like it to, so you light another, dropping it onto the kitchen table. Smoke starts to fill your lungs, stinging your eyes and throat as you light off every single remaining match. You cough and spit as you move backwards, into your room. Laying down on your bed, pulling Arthur’s coat tighter around your body as you try to recall Charles’ scent or his smile. 

-

They’re lucky, the tracks are deep and nothing has come by to cover them. Arthur’s breath has gone ragged, another thing for Charles to worry about as they urge the horses faster. 

“There!” Arthur yelled, cutting himself off with a dry cough. Black smoke rises in the distance,  too much and too dark for a simple chimney fire. 

“Shit.” Charles mumbled, cracking the reins as he barreled forward. Arthur followed, a resounding ‘hyah’ leaving his lips as they flew across the frozen landscape. 

Charles' heart dropped as he pulled up short, Arthur stopped next to him as both their eyes landed on the scene ahead of them. 

Thick, black smoke billowed up into the air, as bright orange flames began to engulf the house. Arthur jumped off Buell, calling your name as he rushed towards the house. Charles followed him, grabbing his arm as he pulled him back from the burning house. 

“The hell are you doing?” He yelled over the crackling of the fire.

“You’re staying here!” Charles yelled, pushing him backwards.

“I can help damnit!” He growled, fighting back a dry cough.

“I can’t lose both of you!” Charles huffed, grabbing the lapels of Arthur’s coat. The two shared a heated glare, only to break apart at the sickening sound of part of the roof caved in.

“Go! Go get our girl!” Arthur yelled, pushing Charles off of him. Charles ran up the steps, rushing into the house. A body caught his eye, he almost crumpled right then and there. He rubbed his eyes, stumbling over to the body. He swallowed thickly, wetting his dry throat as his eyes landed on the man.

Your father, a hole in his chest. The fire hadn’t killed him, you had. Served him right.

He turned away from the corpse, his voice raw as he yelled for you. He burst through one of the doors, his eyes landing on you. Curled up in bed, wrapped in Arthur’s blue coat. His heart was in his throat as he moved forward, smoke strangling him as he pulled you into his arms. 

Arthur stood unmoving as he watched in horror as the house crumbled. Yelling for both you and Charles. Breath returned to his lungs as Charles walked out of the door, your tiny frame in his arms.

“Is she alive?” He asked, catching Charles as he stumbled forward. They both dropped to their knees, brushing the soot from your hair. Charles was unable to stop the ragged cough that wracked through his body. Spittle built up in the corner on his lips as he braced himself on the cold ground.

Arthur ripped off his gloves, shoving them onto your cold hands as he leaned over you. His ear over your heart, praying to anyone listening that he’d hear the rhythmic thumping. Your chest refused to rise, he grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached as he parted your lips. Breathing air into your mouth. His chest burned, the sharp ache returning in full force. Charles pulled him off of you, taking over for him.

“Please, please darlin’ breathe.” Arthur mumbled, grabbing your gloved hand.

Your eyes snapped open, gasping for air as Charles pulled back.

Tag list : @photo1030 , @emerald-ranch , @highlandhour @buffkirby2020 , @esquilone , @cyb3rsx , @whalecage @tortureddpoett

[yanderecrazysie]

Holding Out for a Hero (Yandere! Hawks)

Requested on Quotev.

Title: Holding Out for a Hero

Pairings: Yandere! Hawks x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, harassment, murder

“I need a hero

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast

And he's gotta be fresh from the fight”

- From “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler

“Sorry, (Y/n), honey, there’s just not enough room in the car,” Yuu simpered, pouty-lipped and innocent-eyed.

“How the fuck am I supposed to get home then?” You snapped, giving Yuu’s arm candy a fierce look. He didn’t seem to care, considering he had an absolutely gorgeous lady taking him home tonight.

“You’ll figure out a way, sweetie, won’t you?” Yuu fluttered her eyelashes at you and, without waiting for a response, said, “I knew you’d understand.”

And then she was flouncing her way out of the bar, swinging her hips and sending a wink towards lover boy. You glared after them, but they didn’t bother looking back over their shoulders.

You turned back to your cocktail and moodily swirled the straw in it, listening to the soft clinking of ice against the glass under the heavy sounds of the bar’s music. It was starting to give you a migraine, to be honest.

You reached for your purse and froze when you realized it wasn’t there. Frantically, you looked around but in your heart, you already knew that Yuu had probably swiped it. Or some other lowlife had.

Your purse had both your phone and your money, so there really was no way home now. You gritted your teeth- your apartment was only a few miles away. It’d take at least an hour, and you were in heels, and it was dark as sin, but you could make it.

You grabbed your coat and put it on, clutching it tightly against the cool, crisp air of night as you pushed your way through the throng of people and out of the bar. The streets were eerily quiet, with only the sound of an occasional passing car breaking the silence.

Each of your steps echoed loudly in the quiet night. It wasn’t long before your heels began to pinch your toes and cause your heels to ache. Still, you pressed on, even though you were beginning to suspect your poor feet were bleeding.

You were about a mile or two away from your home when you heard the laughter- loud, obnoxious, and nearby. You looked over your shoulder and your heart sank as a group of men drunkenly stumbled out of a nearby alley behind you. Your heart stopped altogether when one of them nudged his friends and pointed at you.

“Hey sweetheart!” one of them called your way, his words slurred, “Where you headed in such a hurry?”

You didn’t respond, instead walking even faster than before, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Aww, don’t be like that, babe!” another one of them jeered, “We just wanna talk!”

Their footsteps were growing louder, drawing out the sound of your heartbeat, their laughter loud and sinister. Panic began to set in as a hand closed around your wrist and forcibly brought you to a halt.

“Don’t ignore us, darling,” one of them snarled, dragging you backwards into his chest. The other two quickly stepped in front of you, closing in until you could smell the alcohol on their breaths.

“C’mon, don’t be shy, we’ll keep ya company,” one of the men snickered, putting his face inches from yours.

Before you could scream, a rush of wind so strong it nearly knocked you off your feet swept past the four of you. The grip on your wrist vanished with a sickening crack and a cry of pain rang out behind you.

“Now, now,” a smooth voice drawled, “That’s no way to treat a lady.”

Tears of joy leapt to your eyes and relief flooded you as you caught sight of the famous hero, Hawks. You didn’t know he worked this late but, boy, were you glad he did!

He held up his red sword of feathers and pointed it at the two remaining men- the third was running away, clutching his wrist.

“Woah, hey, we ain’t looking for trouble!” one of them stammered, backing away from you with his hands raised in defeat, “Really, we’ll just get-”

His words were cut off as he was run through with Hawks’ sword. You watched in horror as Hawks buried it to the hilt in the man’s chest, blood gushing around his hand.

But he had given up! You watched wordlessly as Hawks removed the sword from the man’s chest, leaving him to fall to his knees, clutching his wound in pain. A moment later, he fell face-first to the ground, ominously still.

The last guy let out a scream and turned to run. He made it only a few steps before Hawks took to the air and, with a swish of the sword, beheaded him. He didn’t even have time to scream.

He was running away- heroes aren’t supposed to kill like this, right?! You found your breaths coming faster as you began to panic, looking at the blood seeping into the sidewalk and the gruesome vision of a severed head, staring ahead in permanent shock.

“You okay, dove?” Hawks asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. You let out an involuntary scream and pulled away, eyes wide in terror. He’s going to kill me too- I’m a witness to a crime!

Hawks looked hurt by your reaction, reaching out a hand to cup your trembling face. You turned away, eyes searching for an escape route that didn’t involve tripping over dead bodies. You screamed again when he wrapped an arm around your waist and began to fight against his iron grip.

“Hey, hey,” Hawks soothed, “The bad guys are gone now. You don’t have to worry.”

“You killed them!” you whimpered, “Heroes aren’t supposed to kill-”

“Sometimes they have to,” Hawks corrected you.

“Not like this!” you wailed, struggling in his hold.

Hawks stared at you for a few moments with a blank expression, before a gentle smile graced his face. “Ah, I understand. That was pretty scary, huh? I should have waited until you were safe at home so you wouldn’t see such awful things.”

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, “Well, let’s get you home. There’s still one rat running around that needs exterminating.” Despite your protests, Hawks swooped you up in his arms bridal style and took flight. He held you gently, like a porcelain doll, but there was something terribly wrong here.

You weren’t heading towards your apartment.

[memoirsofasim]

Ep 1 - Meet your new tenants

When Ozzy decided to invest in rental properties he did zero research and had no idea what he was getting into. How hard could it be managing three rentals?

He heard the sound of someone playing a guitar behind him and guessed it was Clyde, mainly because on his rental form he put down he was a musician, Ozzy climbed out of the pool to go watch.

Ozzy cheered as he listened to Clyde play. This guy could actually play a tune. Rosalie who was kneeling down beside him roasting a marshmallow cheered Clyde on as well.

After Lily came and joined them Ozzy knew this was the right time to ask everyone.

'Right, since you are all here I'll be having a party later tonight and you're all invited!'

Seeing Rosalie's expression made Ozzy rethink his idea. Clyde seemed interested and Lily didn't show much enthusiasm.

'I'll be there!' Lily said jumping up from the her seat and already trotting off. 'Thanks Ozzy!'

Both Rosalie and Clyde confirmed they would attend too. Phew, thought Ozzy. Even if they didn't attend he was going to have a party anyway. But he was glad they were all coming.

So, there's going to be a party later, thought Rosalie as she relaxed on the floater. There were many things to prep for, her outfit, her makeup. She wondered if the landlord knew about this so called party.

Rosalie slipped off the floater into the water and swam elegantly over to Ozzy. 'I appreciate the party invite', she said batting her eyelashes.

'Hey, it's cool. I thought it would be a chill way for everyone to get to know one another', Ozzy replied.

'So, you must work out? I admire your physique.' She gushed at him.

Lily liked the idea of a party, maybe she could tell a few jokes to everyone, test her material out before her first comedy gig. As she mopped up the pool water she thought she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye.

When she glanced over she could see Clyde playing around with the fire. She hoped he wasn't some sort of pyromaniac.

Clyde had no idea what happened. All he did was try to light the fire and now his arm was ablaze. How was he going to get out of this situation?

By jumping in the pool, of course! He ran past Lily, who lost her balance, and quickly climbed the steps to the diving board.

While Lily was trying to regain her balance she glimpsed at Clyde's butt. It was literally right in her face anyway, she couldn't look anywhere else. It was an okay butt, nothing to rave about. She did think he was kind of cute too. In a scruffy rock star kind of way.

Time was ticking for Rosalie, she had to organise her outfit and makeup for the party. 'I'll see you later then, Ozzy' she said giving him a flirty wave.

'Yeah, catch ya later.' Ozzy slipped his cap off and dipped underwater. When he resurfaced he saw Rosalie already walking to her apartment. This sim was damn fine, but was he her type and should he get involved with one of his tenants?

None of them yet knew he was the landlord and he was still undecided about announcing it. Maybe he would see how the party went first, if it was a success then he would tell them, but if it wasn't maybe he would keep it to himself.

[staticvoidzz]

Ok, uhh here’s a small deep dive into a silly headcanons and I’ll spilt it to make it more organized

HAZEL

Hazel, from the beginning has been shown to have a huge admiration for her older brother, Antony. It’s her driving motivation as a character in the first few episodes. Not to mention she sounded rather blue when she mentioned that she moved ACROSS THE COUNTRY from Antony and he can’t really visit since he’s a college student. Hazel, from the start loved her older brother, when she ever got upset about being alone in a completely new area, she keeps on telling herself that Antony visiting her will make it all worth it. Then Antony couldn’t visit do to a massive storm and he’s not able to catch up until the holiday break, which was months from now, this obviously makes Hazel very upset and she tries to hide it by being “mature”, Hazel immediately decided to run away to visit Antony herself, because she feels seen by her brothers presence, she feels comfortable and confident with him.

And yes, her parents also keep her company, they also unintentionally ignore her wants and needs to the point where Hazel sees Antony as her “parental figure” Hazels need to see Antony got so strong, it triggered Cosmo and Wanda’s powers, fairies who were in retirement at the moment, Hazel wish turned her into a literal fly and she just flies away, not even knowing where the airport is. Cosmo and Wanda chased her and tried to convince her that they could help her, but it wasn’t until Hazel was about to die in a gifted Venus fly trap, she had a conversation with a ant, who spend lots of time away from her ant colony, after that, Hazel was convinced that Her brother can do things on her own, as she can to. Hazel then becomes a human and a Godchild to Cosmo and Wanda, and she decides to take a day one step at a time….but stuff like this just doesn’t disappear, does it? Hazels made a new friend, Jasmine,

One day, Hazel suggested to Jasmine that they watch scary movies, because that’s what her and Antony did, But when Jasmines resented the idea, due to her dislike of horror, Hazel made the wish to make her fearless, which actually got her fears out and they are now there own beings, So, now Hazel has to right her wrong by making Jasmine face her own fears. Then, Jasmine got possessed by the consumption of fear, and it taunted Hazel, pointing out the obvious “manipulation” and the way “Hazel used Jasmine for her own needs.” Digging into her fears, which is “Afraid of Starting something New, so you try to repeat the past.” Hazel, was finally to face her own fear with support and she recognized her mistakes, and suggested they do something else they would both find fun. Eventually, Winn, The cool skateboarder kid, Joined in on Hazels and Jasmines friendship, becoming a friendship trio.

Some, time later, They all decided to take a quiz and when they scored a zero, Hazel went into a spiral and just assumed that Winn and Jasmine don’t know her well enough and secretly hate her, so Into her mind we go! It was all good,until she got into her embarrassing secrets, she tried to hide it, but that caused her to let her mind worm loose, which fed off her negative thoughts. Her deepest conflict is that her friends aren’t actually her friends and that they don’t care about her, it’s not until Hazel remembered what her mom said about not letting negativity control her, she’s eventually able to control it and get back with her friends. In a similar situation,

Hazel went into crisis about which class she should sign up for, Band or Orchestra. Since Winn and Jasmine are on both sides and that they are enemies, so Basically if Hazel decides one thing, she’s silently saying “I don’t like you and I prefer this.” And Hazel obviously doesn’t want that, so she gets musical talent and a clone of herself to make Jasmine and Winn happy, but it’s no use, they still fight and Hazel accidentally took away music, which is bad—because they can’t perform. So, Hazel decided to come up with a plan with the help from the help of the Nmusic Fairy, in which music was temporarily restored in order for Hazel to prove that she can get the band and orchestra kids together as one,

and she succeed as being their conductor of sorts, after the show, backstage, Hazel asked her parents if they sent the video to Antony (because he was going to see it via video) But Antony already showed up and watch the show live, he appears with roses and happy to see Hazel. Hazel was estatic, immediately jumping onto his arms and on the verge of tears, she was so happy to see her brother after so long. She even used to rule free wish so that her friends (family included) will remember fairies.

Hazels inner conflict are letting something go and the fear of losing something she care. She doesn’t want to lose anything again, but she has a good support system with Her mother, Cosmo and Wanda, Antony and Herself. She’s able to maturely handle the situation after she messed things up, because of that support system.

(Ok I was going to add Dev, but I’ve been typing for over an hour straight And my fingers are starting to hurt. I have a lot to say about Dev as a character regarding this head canon, but I hope for now, this’ll do. I’m still pretty new to analyzing, so I hope I did a good job :3)

Another HeadCanon (That’s Kinda a Projection but Shh)

Both Dev and Hazel have attachment issues, I’ll probably go on a deeper dive if I feel like it

[weirdcat1213]

HYUNA'S PART WHEN SHE SINGS "MAKE ME YOIR GOD I CAN GIVE YOU EVERYTHING" IEHIEDHISHWJEHRIDUDKRHRU HYUNAAAAAAAAAA

[spidernerd625]

I actually love learning history, but we barely learn any of it in school. I want to learn EVERYTHING! ESPECIALLY the crazy stuff! Teach me the things that don't make sense! Teach me the details about how people loved, what they did! What shinanigins did they get up to? Make me reenact something ridiculous and crazy!

Gods, I love history!

Got these pictures from my for you page on Tik Tok

These pictures are NOT mine.

[deus-ex-mona]

rage is a ✨way of life✨

[bmpmp3]

i do think its kinda funny when i see someone in the year of our lord 2024 talk about vocal synth music like its all gone downhill since like 2010 because like dont get me wrong i love a good niconicodouga-ass 2008 ass vocaloid joint BUT also like. the past couple years have had the most fascinatingly creative and expressive uses of vocal synthesizers ive ever heard in my life DJFSKHJDFS dont write it all off just yet!!

[mocksfate]

abrie out there starting to be friendly w s0las (and believe he can be 'redeemed') cause if there's hope for a guy like him then there's hope for her, too and i'm just 🥲👍

[truecorvid]

ohhhhh my godddddd