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cherryslyce · 2 years ago

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Second Son (II) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Getting acquainted with Regulus was inevitable, but your relationship only continues to grow as you figure out a way for your friendship to outlast the closing summer break.

Part I / Part III / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Harry's arrival. Regulus is warming up to Y/N. Little cliffhanger at the end.

It was an ingenious idea.

"That is certainly an idea."

Regulus was very much trying to be supportive of your plans, but you could see the veiled apprehension in his gaze.

Over the summer, you were able to bond with him over the traumas of your life. You were proudly on day 34 of friendship.

In a way, he had become your closest acquaintance in the absence of Harry.

Regulus was endlessly fascinated by Harry when you had explained the lore of the poor boy's life. You would pay a good sum of your inheritance to see the gobsmacked look on his face again after you told him Harry was famous for surviving the Killing Curse.

"Calm your horses, Reg. It will be fine. I wouldn't risk such a thing if I weren't confident."

"Oh, it's not your confidence I doubt," his curls bounced ever so slightly as he shook his head, "I'm just hoping that you aren't in over your head here."

"It will be fine. I have this thing where I am averse to killing friends."

"Friends?-"

Before Regulus could finish, you whipped out your wand and murmured a firm reducio.

His painting gave the faintest quake before quickly shrinking on the floor.

"Reg? Are you okay?"

"Fine. Everything is just humongous now. But I'm no more cramped than I was before."

You pick up the small frame, brushing your thumb over the gold edge. Regulus‘ painting was now quaint enough to fit in the palm of your hand, his shrunken figure gazing up at you in relief.

"See, I told you. Everything's fine. Now I can take you with me everywhere I go."

His eyes glimmer in pleasure at the prospect of actually be able to see the outside world.

"I concede, you were right. However, in the event that you die, what will happen to me? Merlin forbid they bury me with you."

Regulus made it a point to bring up your almost imminent demise at every chance he could, strongly disapproving of your close association with the Dark Lord's current greatest adversary.

It was funny to think the greatest threat to the Dark Lord's reign was a group of teenagers struggling in Arithmancy.

"Don't worry, I'll look up some kind of rune to transport you to a safe place in the event that I am slaughtered. Though, you should have more faith in me, Harry and I have managed to survive a lot of unimaginable things."

"None of which even scratch the surface of the Dark Lord's power."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm less concerned about the Dark Lord and more concerned about the Ministry. They're completely defaming Harry and I have half the mind to march on in to Fudge's office and slap him."

Regulus let out a noise of amusement and you began to fiddle with your wand in contemplation.

"Hey Reg, do you know anything that could allow you to communicate with me without giving away your whole predicament? I think I'll be shipped off on the first carriage to St. Mungo's if someone catches me talking to myself."

You were hesitant to tell anyone about your summer discovery, but Regulus was vehemently against it. He told you that telling others of his existence would only give him a headache, and you had a creeping suspicion he wasn't on the best of terms with the Dark Lord and his followers or his brother.

"There might be something in my room. I was researching various concealment charms before I died. For now, I'll just remain silent until you address me first."

A warm feeling beat at your chest. Regulus had never outright told you, but you knew that he trusted you and even liked you enough to agree to stick around.

It was probably due to your unrelenting honesty and efforts to make it clear that you didn't hate him for his past juvenile decisions.

Though, he was still quite secretive about his past.

"Well, off we go then. And Reg?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." For trusting me and for being my friend.

"Think nothing of it."

Brushing Reg's frame one last time, you slip the small item into a wide pocket inside your jacket.

You huff out a heavy sigh and make your way out of the room, slowly cracking the door open. As you peered out into the hall, you let relief wash over you as you realized the coast was clear.

Slowly shutting the door behind you, letting it warp and disappear, you bound down the staircase and towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

You stopped a few paces away from your destination, taking in the sight of the worn door. It felt almost like you were about to cross the threshold into somewhere sacred.

"Y/N! There you are, we've been looking for you! What are you doing?" You curse silently under your breath, spinning on your heel and away from Regulus‘ bedroom door.

Hermione and Ron were looking at you expectantly, confusion flitting in their eyes at your recent reclusiveness and secrecy.

"I was just exploring."

"Near that door?" Ron's voice was coated in a mixture of disbelief and pride, approving of your sudden mischievous nature.

"Yeah, I mean I've always liked a good mystery. Though...keep it a secret for me? I don't want to sit through Sirius‘ lecturing."

This time it was Hermione who spoke, a sudden glint of excitement sharpening in her gaze, "No matter about that! We heard from the adults that Harry should be arriving soon!"

You broke out into a grin at the news, though your eyebrows began to furrow as you let the information stew in your head.

"Wait. Why now? Did something happen? Dumbledore would never allow it unless something urgent occurred."

Hermione and Ron exchange a serious look and a sinking feeling drags down your middle.

It is not until they drag you into your shared room that you're informed of the news, and you honestly could not be less surprised.

Chaos followed Harry everywhere, and a Dementor attack happened to fall into the ‘shit that only happens to Harry‘ category of life.

Harry arrived less than an hour after you received the news, and you could see the relief flood into his eyes as he realized you were all there waiting for him.

You let Hermione and Ron smother him in their hugs before you're up on your feet and gently patting his back, his face shoved into your shoulder as his whole body sagged.

"I'm glad you're here now, Harry. Dumbledore forbade all methods of communication with you, and he's unfortunately methodical. I tried just about everything to reach you."

The tired boy nods at your explanation, clearly still in shock at the events that unfolded to properly react.

You were beginning to relax against Harry until a sudden pop had you gripping your chest painfully.

The bloody twins and their bloody apparition.

"Fred! George! I swear I'm going to castrate you one of these days!"

You were still quite irked with the twins even after they apologized to you and formulated a plan to make up for the scare.

They thought it would be lightwork to use an extendable ear product of theirs to listen in on the meeting going on in the kitchen downstairs.

"As lovely as that sounds, I have to finish reading up for the summer."

"Blimey, Y/N. Don't tell me you're turning into Hermione."

"Well I think that's great, Y/N. And if you bothered to do what we were doing, Ronald, maybe you wouldn't have to ask for our notes every year."

You quickly flee the scene as the others were distracted, shutting the door quietly and striding towards Regulus‘ room down the hall.

Without hesitating like last time, you hurriedly twist the creaky knob and fling yourself into the room, not giving anyone the opportunity to catch you sneaking around.

"Okay, Reg. We're alone now. Sorry I couldn't leave sooner, I'm sure it was a bore for you."

You fetch the portrait from the inside of your jacket, grinning down at the pretty boy who was looking back at you passively.

"It was quite entertaining. It's better than the usual empty silence I'm used to."

"Right...I'm glad. Well, where do you keep your charms books at?"

"Left trunk underneath the bed. The green one."

You place the small painting down on the tableside next to his bed, propping it up against a dust-coated lamp. You heave the trunk out and let out a small exhale from the effort, nimbly unclasping it and flipping it open.

The sight of rows of books greeted you and you had to hold in a gasp at the wide collection and their near pristine quality.

Advanced Charm Casting

Chadwick's Charms Vol. III

Charms and Their Origins

The Dark Forces: Praesidium Carmina and Spells

"Wow. You have quite the selection. Praesidium Carmina?"

"It's latin for protection charms. There should be a few handy charms in there, but I didn't get to finish it so you'll have to read it thoroughly yourself."

You run a finger down the spine of the book appreciatively, grinning at the boy like a child finding a chest of candy.

"Reg, you are truly amazing."

"You can keep it. You can take all of them if you wish."

Your mouth falls open at his words, a pleased expression falling over your face. Regulus, for the most part, looked unaffected by your touched demeanor, but you could see a self-satisfied smile tug at his lips.

"Are you sure, Reg? These look precious."

"They are. But I have no use for them nor does Sirius. Besides, I can trust that you'll use them well."

"Wow. This is the first gift you've given me. You know this means that our friendship has entered the next level, right?"

Regulus shakes his head in amusement, smiling at your enthusiasm.

"And how would you define this new level of friendship, dear Y/N?"

"Well, we're like a couple secrets away from being best friends. Sorry though, I don't really know how I could give you an actual gift."

Regulus seems to consider this for a few moments, merely opting to shake his head in response.

"Getting me out of that room is already a debt I'm unable to repay."

"I'm glad you said that because now you're really stuck with me forever."

And it could have been the trick of the light, but you swear he didn't look totally bothered by the idea.

After shrinking down Regulus‘ trunk and a small pouch he insisted on you taking as well, you made your way down towards the kitchen, pockets full and feeling satisfied from your mission.

As you entered the kitchen, you stop in your tracks as everyone's attention darts to you.

Isn't that fun.

Suddenly, Sirius stands up and gestures for you to come sit, his mouth set in a firm line instead of his usual playful smirk.

"Y/N, there you are. We need to have a talk."

Relax. There's no way he knows anything.

Was what you would have thought, but Hermione and Ron couldn't quite look you in the eyes. You were superbly fucked.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fluff #regulus x reader #regulus black scenario #regulus black deserved better #regulus black series #harry potter series #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction #the noble house of black #sirius black #hermione granger #ronald weasley

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mycadences · 1 year ago

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Elain: I am not a child to be fought over. (Chapter 21 of ACOSF, Azriel was present when she said that and HE HEARD IT)

Azriel: (In an arrogant tone) I'll defeat him [Lucien] with little effort. (Azriel's ACOSF bonus chapter, after Elain said what she said, and referring to the Blood Duel)

(Here Elriels might bring up "but Lucien asked if Elain was worth fighting for!" but the difference is 1. Lucien had only met Elain once at that time (it was during ACOWAR) 2. he didn't know anything about her 3. she hadn't said the line I'm referring to 4. he didn't overhear the line I'm referring to 5. "fighting for" has a slightly different connotation from "fighting over".)

So it IS canon that Elain would hate the Blood Duel and would have a problem with Azriel killing Lucien... while Azriel doesn't. In ACOWAR, Nesta and Feyre were worried about Lucien going off to find Vassa in case harm befell him.

This was what Feyre thought: Even Nesta seemed relatively concerned. Not for him, no doubt, but the fact that if he were hurt, or killed … What would it do to Elain? The severing of the mating bond … I shut out the thought of what it’d do to me.

But Azriel didn't think of how devastating it would be for Elain if her mate were to die. No, in fact, he didn't think much of her "beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".

Wow. How romantic. If this is the "canon" that Elriels are so proud of, then I'm honestly glad that it wasn't written about my ship.

Also look at this scene:

Elain: You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta. // Then I will find it [the Dread Trove]. // You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater. (This is also from Chapter 21 of ACOSF, and yes Azriel was present to hear it. Notice how the wording focused on Elain's agency, on her choice, on people making decisions for her.)

Azriel: (In response to Amren's suggestion that they let Elain track the Trove) There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to. (Chapter 29 of ACOSF)

Once again, he was doing something that Elain had explicitly mentioned she disliked, something that he KNEW because he HEARD IT. Despite hearing that Elain didn't like Nesta making the choice for her (not to scry for the Trove), Azriel STILL chose to throw in his unsolicited two cents and was essentially robbing her of her free will.

Compare this to when Gwyn got taken to the Blood Rite along with Emerie and Nesta.

Cassian: If I interfere, we’re both dead. And even if I did, Nesta would kill me if I jumped in to save her. She’d never forgive me for it. \\ And even if the laws had allowed it, he would never take that away from her: the chance to save herself.

Azriel: You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.

Both Cassian and Azriel recognized the skills and abilities of the Valkyries. They trusted them to survive. And Cassian himself said that he wouldn't step in, NOT because he didn't care about Nesta, but he knew she would hate it (that he made the call for her) and that he was confident in her strength to overcome the Blood Rite. And they're mates.

(^ Those who say "Azriel and Gwyn cannot be mates because he didn't save her from the Blood Rite" must not have read SF at all lol. But anyway I digress.)

Azriel's line of thinking was similar to Cassian in that he believed in the Valkyries, and that's more than I can ever say about his faith in Elain. Or lack thereof.

Speaking of faith in Elain, you know who has it, though?

Lucien.

(I swear he's the solution to every Elain puzzle. He's linked to Papa Archeron whose death Elain was implied to feel guilty about, he's linked to the Courts that Elain would thrive in (Spring and Day) and he's linked to the central conflict in Elain's personal arc (their mating bond).)

He literally went to the Mortal Lands to find Vassa because Elain had a vision about it. THAT, is an example of trust. The only other person to argue for Elain's visions was Mor, and Cassian was busy rebuffing her while Azriel "looked inclined to agree [with Cassian, not Elain]". Lucien went on a possibly dangerous wild goose chase all because of his trust in Elain's visions -- in his mate's visions.

Finally, this is not a hate post against Azriel (in case it reads like one). I love him, but somehow when he's around Elain they give me Tamlin/Feyre vibes, which is why I believe SJM is actually intentionally dropping hints that their relationship won't work out. Already we see how toxic it is. I adore his interactions with Nesta, Feyre and of course our lovely Valkyrie-priestess, Gwyn ;)

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #elucien #pro elucien #antielriel #anti e/riel #elain archeron #it took me forever to type this

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fen-luciel · 6 months ago

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The mistakes of a Acolyte

Chapters

Summary: You are pregnant with Qimir's child and the universe is not big enough to hide you from him

I hadn't felt this empty for a long time.

The sensation of dry skin from all the tears shed, the difficulty breathing through my nose, the shortness of breath that struggled to stabilize.

It was like watching a child have a hysterical crisis.

Except I wasn't a child.

I had only experienced a similar pain once before. My mind had erased most of that day, I remembered random images, the fire, the rubble, the smell of burnt flesh, the black hands... small. Still...

I took a deep breath with my mouth open, before focusing on regulating my breathing. I was alone in the cabin, having instructed Sam to check for any tracking devices on the ship and Yord's communicator. The one Sol had given me had already been destroyed, thrown to the bottom of the room in a outburst of rage.

I struggled to get up from the chair, moving slowly toward the small bedroom. At this point, my entire body was aching with a dull pain. I couldn't tell what was real or what was paranoia. At first, I even thought that all this stress might have been too much for the baby. A scan from Sam showed no severe damage, but he wasn’t a medical droid, and I needed to be checked before hiding again.

In the room, I reached the small bathroom with a shower. Sam had already prepared some clothes in a corner. The sight made me smile, yet my heart tightened in a painful grip.

There was nothing sweet about all this. I was miserable.

A wounded animal in need of care. Weak. Physically and mentally.

I turned on the faint lights above the mirror and looked at myself.

It was certainly an ironic scene. Just a few hours earlier, I had been in the same situation on the Jedi ship and then alone in this bathroom, which was very similar to the previous one, but everything was a hundred times worse.

Bloodshot eyes, a swollen, red face, dry skin, streaks of mucus on my chin, lips almost bleeding from how much I had rubbed them with my sleeve and bitten them. The vacant stare, the messy hair... I was ruined.

If I had been honest with myself, maybe I had never been healthy. Not as a Jedi, not alone, not as a Sith. But this was the bottom of the barrel.

The little dignity I thought I had, the pride, the faith... what had they led to?

I undressed slowly, my arms burning with pain, the marks on my skin evident and almost distinct in multiple colors—purple, black, red, blue, and lighter around the edges, the older ones starting to take on a greenish hue. I removed my pants and underwear, then took a deep breath. One hand gently caressing my belly, more tears threatened to fall from my eyes, but I held them back.

I needed to stop. I risked harming myself. Even Sam had reproached me for putting too much stress on my body. The last thing I wanted on my conscience was to harm my child before he was even born. It would be just another failure on my part, but I didn't think I would survive the psychological consequences.

I turned on the hot water and waited for the small bathroom to warm up. As soon as the steam began to fill the room, I stepped into the shower under the warm stream. I washed slowly, partly due to my aching body, partly to enjoy a moment of peace. There were many things to do. I couldn't immediately retreat to the farthest corner of the galaxy. I needed to gather healthier supplies, recover my credits from various accounts, ensure the ship was safe from tampering, and check that I had no one on my trail.

Yes, Sam was checking and had been keeping an eye on the ship the whole time, but I couldn’t know if Qimir had gotten his hands on it earlier. Hours had passed, and I was fairly certain he had managed to escape, but he hadn't sent me any messages or tried to contact me through the Force. Everything was too calm.

Maybe he was carefully planning his next moves. After all, now he had a more important reason to keep me close. Five months ago, he hadn't let go, even though he continued his objectives, and time had passed, maybe even with the belief that I would resurface alone. But now, things were completely different.

I knew what he wanted deep in his heart, in his raw and simple desires. Revenge against those who had hurt him. And me. And now our son was indirectly the perfect symbol of his dream, the product of us both as a family, alive and corporeal.

I needed to prepare myself psychologically for what would come next. Even though it was clear my body wasn’t capable of handling it, I struggled to react to his presence. My only option was to flee.

Or if things really went south... I wouldn’t care anymore. I would report him to the Jedi Order if it meant keeping him away from my son. It was already ridiculous trying to help him once, yes, even to protect myself, but everything that came after I could avoid.

I stepped out of the shower feeling somewhat better, though the pain had not subsided at all. Washing away the tears from my face had been therapeutic. I put on a pair of loose pants and a long black robe that reached my knees, deciding to skip the underwear. I had had enough of my miserable hours, feeling the underwire of my bra pressing against my flesh was the last thing I wanted, and no one would notice the lack of underwear.

I wanted to sleep. Lie down and forget everything for a while. But I knew that if I relaxed now, I would open my eyes hours later or worse, not want to get up at all. I couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

It took me at least five minutes to put on my shoes by myself.

When I finally managed, I opened the bedroom door, with Sam waiting outside.

"Did you check everything as I asked?" He gave a small affirmative nod while handing me the holo pad Yord had given me.

I should have destroyed it. What would I even do with it? Contact him? If he were interested, he would have called me earlier or... no, I was delirious.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I recalled Qimir's words. He was right, I was delirious.

I went back to the cockpit, my backpack waiting on the co-pilot's seat, and with a sigh, I slipped the communicator back in. I tidied up the things I needed, decided to tuck the lightsaber into the large pockets of my pants. Since I would be wearing a cloak, I doubted anyone would notice, but I preferred to carry something familiar. Even if I didn’t use it, it would be enough to scare almost anyone, though I preferred not to show it too much.

We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. The planet was a very popular docking destination, especially for those making long trips, as the surface didn’t offer much entertainment for the inhabitants. The docking area was the main commerce zone, legal or otherwise, with a financial flow so significant that even the Republic turned a blind eye to certain dealings.

The logic was quite simple: there were multiple docking levels, marked with different colors or numbers. At first glance, it seemed just a normal numbering system, but each symbol provided specific information for dockers, and if you were ignorant of the matter, you just had to look at the colors.

Green = legal

Purple = illegal

I landed on a lower level, a purple platform with some tool symbols painted on the side. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and, accompanied by Sam, descended the ramp calmly. My feet cried out in pain, especially after resting for a few hours on the ship, but I ignored the discomfort. I would rest eventually.

From the landing area, there was a narrower path overlooking the void, with lights visible below on the artificial pillar. It made little sense to stop here if one wanted to visit the actual planet. Even though there were means to descend directly, it made more sense to land on solid ground.

As I moved away from the ship, I saw two Togruta approaching me with a tool cart in tow. I pulled my hood over my head and stopped a few steps from them.

“Ma’am” they greeted with a nod, which I returned. I then handed them a pouch with some credits, which they tucked into their pockets.

“I need to buy some supplies, but I have a few doubts. I would like you to check the ship internally and externally for any tracking devices or tampering. If you find something like this, please inform me immediately” They nodded before handing me a small device with two lights.

“If we find anything concerning, we will immediately trigger the red light. We assume that any external device will be destroyed if found...?”

I nodded. "Of course, I expect the utmost discretion" I said, and resumed walking. However, one of the two men called out to me, "Excuse me, if you need supplies, my brother runs a shop on the floor above. Right next to the elevator, yellow sign. He has a bit of everything... even some extras if you ask"

I nodded again, and we parted ways. I reached the elevator and decided to take a stroll to see if I could find anything useful. I gathered some credits in various pouches that I slipped to the bottom of my bag, careful not to be seen, and passed by the shop that had been suggested to me, paying a droid to bring the supplies directly to the ship until I decided to stop at a small restaurant.

A counter overlooked the kitchen, with a dozen neatly arranged tables outside. It had a slightly dated appearance, but it was nice and, above all, quiet.

I ordered something simple, and it arrived quickly since there weren't many customers. I ate while waiting for the signal from my ship. People and aliens of all kinds passed before my eyes, but I could barely focus. I was distracted, confused, and not hearing from Qimir was eating me alive. Was this his plan? To torture me with silence? To wait until I let my guard down or to drive me insane?

As I finished my meal, a female voice from a nearby table caught my attention. "Congratulations" a woman in her fifties smiled warmly at me. I immediately recognized her armor as part of one of the bounty hunter clans scattered throughout space. She gestured toward my stomach, and looking down, I noticed that seated, my belly was quite noticeable due to the shirt that had rolled up around my hips.

I placed a hand on my stomach in a small caress and forced a tight smile. "Thank you." I hoped the conversation would end there, but clearly, the woman wanted to chat. "How many months along are you?"

I held back a sigh. It wasn’t her fault I was irritated, I didn’t want to respond rudely, and it was better not to anger strangers—you never knew how they might react.

"Fifth... almost sixth"

I had also finished eating, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse. I could have gotten up and left, but I wanted to enjoy sitting there as long as I could, I still didn’t know how long it would be before I was called back.

"How lovely, you remind me of my first pregnancy. My husband and I were so happy..." She looked at me as she got lost in her story. She was a beautiful woman with copper-red hair tied up, a few gray strands in the middle, and wrinkles that showed her age, but she was so charming that it was barely noticeable. Not to mention she was clearly a trained woman.

But what was she doing here alone? I recognized the armor well, they were usually in small scattered groups. I didn’t recall seeing anyone else with the same clan symbol on the floor, nor had I seen her talking to anyone before...

A shiver of fear struck me.

She was here hunting someone. And now... she was talking to me... it couldn’t be true? Had Qimir put a bounty on my head so quickly? Or maybe he had contacted some private party he knew and...

"Hey, girl, are you okay? You look pale, do you need a hand? Is there someone with you?"

I gripped the edge of the table nervously, my other hand slowly reaching for the lightsaber in my pocket, Sam at my feet, ready to attack if necessary.

"Are you here for me?" I asked bluntly. If we were going to confront each other, it was better not to beat around the bush.

She looked at me puzzled for a moment, then her face lit up in realization. "Oh, no, sweetheart, believe me, I was just on a break before joining my people and... wait, are you in trouble? Who would send bounty hunters after you?" She gave me a closer look before seeing the glint in my pocket. I hid the lightsaber, but it was too late.

She looked taken aback for a moment before sitting in the empty chair at my table, leaning slightly forward. "Are you a Jedi?!" she whispered. "Oh, honey, how did you get into this mess? The cloak reminded me of something, but I didn’t think it was like this..."

I looked around nervously, but no one seemed to pay attention. "I... it’s complicated" I didn’t feel like correcting her, it was better not to reveal too much information, especially to a stranger. She didn’t seem to have bad intentions, but it was better not to risk exposing myself too much.

She sighed.

"This is what happens when you raise kids away from the world. Tsk. No offense, but I never liked your Order. What happens with kids and then... was it intentional at least?" She asked, indicating my belly.

I shrugged in response. I didn’t want to feel like I was being interrogated by a stranger or, worse, criticized for my choices. The idea of going down and waiting at the docking platform crossed my mind.

She exhaled slowly as she leaned back in her chair. "And him? Another Jedi?" I looked at her from under my hood and nodded. She rubbed her eyes. "Tell me you’re waiting for him here, please."

The indirect mention of Qimir by the woman at this point seemed like just another joke from the Force.

I held back a tear, quickly wiping it away, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the woman. I continued nervously looking at my hands in my lap, Sam beside me, whistling sadly.

There was a few seconds of tense silence before she spoke again. "Listen. Let’s start over. I’m Eleena, and you?"

I told her my name in a faint voice.

"Alright, Sabrina. Do you have a plan? A place to stay? Do you know what to do?"

I nodded. "Do you think the Jedi are looking for you? They don’t seem like the type to chase a pregnant girl, despite everything..."

I sighed, distressed. The whole conversation made me uncomfortable, but I was glad to get a bit of understanding after all this time, especially from someone outside all the Order and the Force’s mess.

"It’s... a complicated matter" I started moving the plate in front of me with a finger in a nervous gesture, continuing not to look at her, afraid of feeling judged. "Okay. Then I’ll ask you another question. Have you had any check-ups recently?"

I cleared my throat. "Last month, I wanted to go here, but I saw I had to register at the counter and other procedures, so I didn’t feel up to it..."

She calmly got up from the chair, hands on her hips. "I know another place here. A man who helps bounty hunters. I’ll take you there, and you get checked out, okay?"

I looked at her in surprise.

Was she serious? Was she really helping me? Could I trust her?

"But why...?" She offered me a hand to help me up. "I told you, I’m a mother too. We should help each other, right? And besides, I’m always happy to stick it to the Jedi"

We walked through the market area, reached the elevator again, and went down two floors to the workers' private area. A guard stopped us, but as soon as he saw Eleena, he made a gesture and let us pass. The area looked more like a really disorganized warehouse, with a few tables scattered around and various people on break eating or dozing in chairs. We reached the end of the corridor and went through a side door. There was a small corridor with white walls and another door at the end.

Eleena knocked, and after a moment of silence, the door opened. A massive man, perhaps around two meters tall, welcomed us and let us in.

It was clear that they knew each other. They exchanged a few words while I looked around, still followed by a curious Sam. The place was a storage room cleaned and reorganized as a medical room. Despite the heavy air, it was... nice.

In the end, I managed to get the check-ups I needed. Fortunately, I was fine, although the droid that gave me a quick scan announced the few bruises on my arms and a high stress level in my body. Eleena gave me an intense look but said nothing. I tried to pay them for their trouble, but the man refused, saying, "Friends of my friends are my friends"... or something like that.

Just in time to receive the signal on the communicator, I could finally board the ship and leave. Eleena decided to accompany me to the landing area. I returned the device and paid extra for some minor repairs that had been done.

"I don’t know how to thank you. I didn’t know where else to go. I was thinking of buying a medical droid on the way home" I stopped in front of the ramp as Sam opened the hatch and boarded to check the supplies that had been loaded.

"It’s all right. I’m glad to help, really. The galaxy is already full of assholes, and doing a good deed every now and then doesn’t hurt" I held my hands under my stomach before giving a small bow with my head. "It doesn’t matter. Thank you for everything"

I started to board, but she stopped me. "Listen. I won’t ask for anything else, but I think I have an idea of what’s going on with you. Tell me the truth, it’s just you and the droid, right?"

I bit my lip before nodding.

"Then take this. I don’t care if you use it or not. I feel better knowing you can contact me" she handed me a holo-pad which I took hesitantly. "If you need to kick some Jedi ass, my people and I are here. Even for free, believe me, it would just make us happy"

I looked at her for a few more seconds before pulling off my hood and giving her a gentle smile, perhaps finally more at ease after all the tears shed. "I won’t forget this"

We said our goodbyes, and I finally boarded the ship, reached the controls, and started the engines. The holo-map was lit up next to me, with Sam asking where we wanted to go as he analyzed the various marked locations.

"I don’t know. Maybe somewhere it snows" I whispered more to myself than to him as we flew out of the atmosphere.

#the acolyte #star wars #qimir x reader #qimir x oc #qimir #manny jacinto

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rea-grimm · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I hope you are well. Once again, one of your faithful followers (Luffy Dragon fan 💖) comes with a new request (if you can, obviously).

the last chapter of op made me realize that Sanji ignores and is less gentlemanly towards women who show signs of liking him. I wonder if we can get something where the reader is obviously in love with Sanji (corpse of the boyfriend) and he is completely indifferent or clueless about it, while following his behavior in love with other girls and being a great "dude, look what you have in front of you" "

xo ♥️ congratulations on the 2500 likes

Hi, I had quite tought week, but I’m better now. Hope you are well too. I’m happy to hear from you. You have really good request. ❤️

Hope you enjoy this.

Dude, look what you have in front of you- Corpse Sanji

You were head over heels in love with Sanji. Everyone on board knew it, but the only cook was completely blind to you. Yes, he treated you almost the same way he treated Nami or Robin. Although sometimes you had the impression that he took you more for granted. As a sidekick and nakama.

How you wished he felt for you the way you felt for him. To try to woo you like he tried to woo other girls who rejected him when they found out the truth.

You were sorry to see him melt over the other girls. How he got down on one knee and kept asking for their hand in marriage. You knew that was one of the main reasons he was among the living. His biggest regret.

When you saw him with other girls, it always made your heart skip a beat and you had to do everything you could to not let it show on yourself.

The new island was a new opportunity for the chef to find a new girl. You were out shopping and you passed a small square with a small group of beautiful girls among the people.

As soon as Sanji saw the beauties, he dropped his shopping bags and headed towards them. He showered them with compliments before getting down on one knee and asking for their hand in marriage. The girls were just giggling.

You picked up your bags and walked to the side with them when the wind picked up out of nowhere. This wind was a bad omen for Sanji as it blew his bangs to the side, exposing his eye. Or rather an empty socket where the eye should have been.

The girls he had been focusing on until now ran away screaming and left him kneeling on the ground alone, with a completely broken expression.

The cook walked over to you brokenly, lit a cigarette and took your bags, saying he would take them on the ship. He hated these reactions. It reminded him so much that he was no longer alive. Just a corpse waiting for a miracle.

You wanted to somehow improve his mood, so you used this opportunity and went to the shop you passed on the way. To a shop that sold prosthetics. From limbs, dentures, and eyes. You knew what eye colour to choose for him. No one else you knew had eyes as blue as his.

On the boat you gave him your little gift, like a little thing, a souvenir you would call it. The others were there too and they all saw how happy Sanji was. Heart in his eyes, he hugged you on his knees.

You and everyone else had already started to think that this would make the cook notice you and see how you felt about him. Nothing could be further from the truth as nothing has changed at all. As soon as another girl flashed past him, or Nami and Robin, his head was in the clouds.

Despite all this, you had the impression that it would end like this and sighed in disappointment. You felt like you were chasing an even more impossible dream than your captain was chasing.

You saw that things with Sanji were difficult and apparently impossible and you slowly gave up. You didn't even know how, but you found your solace in the swordsman and the doctor.

Both of them supported you and Zoro even offered to knock some sense into the cook. It sounded tempting, but you talked him out of it.

This small change didn't go unnoticed by Sanji and he got the impression that you had started something with the swordsman. He didn't understand at all what you saw in that mosshead. That's why he also went to see him, what was his problem, that you spent so much time with him.

Zoro didn't understand at all. It was the chef's bad luck, he had his chance with you. And even though you tried to act like you got over it, Zoro knew full well that you would do anything for a cook.

“Dude, look what you have in front of you,” he said instead, pointing over his shoulder at you. You stood with your back to them, playing the new board game he got in town with Chopper.

Sanji looked at you and he had no idea what mosshead was talking about. Robin, who heard everything, joined in. The two of them then explained it to him.

When Sanji finally saw through it, he made you a dinner with everything you liked as an apology and asked you out on a date. You could see in him that he was serious and so you decided to give him one more chance.

Sanji Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #undead sanji #Monster Piece

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dreaming-marchling · 1 month ago

Text

2024 Fic Round Up

Tagged by @princessfbi (thank you! so thrilled to have discovered your work this year!)

2024 Word Count: 661,417

JANUARY

FEBRUARY

Safe In Certainty Started in 2023, Completed in Feb 2024 | Fast & Furious | Marked in Trust Series | 223,657k

Part four finished! Still stunned to be here story after story with the most amazing commenters I could have ever asked for. Not bad for a story I had never intended to share!

MARCH

Marked in Faith 10 chapters posted in 2024 | Fast & Furious | Marked in Trust Series | Roughly 60k posted in 2024

I'm putting this in for March because this is the month I began posting one story a month until Reckless in Devotion started. Some of those babies are longer than my oneshots, lol. Forever love exploring other POVs in the Marked in Trust world!

APRIL

MAY

The Ex 911 | Bucktommy | 17.5k

My first 911 story! My first Bucktommy story! Buck as a character totally captured me this year. I haven't been taken by a new fandom in so long so this was so exciting! Of course I beat the crap out of Buck right in my first fic for him :)

JUNE

Eyes On Me 911 | Bucktommy | 18k

Post lightning strike cataracts, I had so much fun with this one. I constantly think about extending it or maybe doing a Buddie version of it, I just loved the storyline so much and other scenes popped into my head after I posted

Doctor/Warlock Confidentiality Shadowhunters | Magnus-Centric | 17k

My first Shadowhunters of the year! Magnus Bane gets therapy against his wishes. I felt very clever for the title, lol

Heart & Universe 911 | Buddie | 6.8k

My first Buddie story! Why be stuck in a ship war when you can have BOTH?? I love writing them realizing they're in love :)

JULY

The King of the Dark Storm Shadowhunters | Malec & Chairman Meow | 5.8k

I've had this stray headcanon about Chairman being an old god trapped as a cat floating around in my head for fun for so long and finally I wrote it!

Not Sexy 911 | Bucktommy | 7k

Listen, I need more fics about Buck using sex in unhealthy ways. It's catnip for me. Tommy got a glimpse behind that particularly miserable door in this one

Invasion 911 | Buddie | 10k

Nakedperil!Buck and protective!Eddie - a match made in heaven, in my opinion

AUGUST

SEPTEMBER

Over the Cliff 911 | Gen 118 Fam | 6k

This was originally supposed to be how Buck got injured in Not Sexy but I was having way too much fun with the cliff rescue which wasn't even the point of Not Sexy so I chopped them in half to make a gen 118 family/Buck whump story and gave a much more to the point explanation for Buck's injuries in Not Sexy

Away From Us 911 | Buddie | 76k

My first 911 multichapter story! A presumed dead lawsuit era story full of angst. I fully anticipate more lawsuit era angst in my future, lol

OCTOBER

Art Class and Earthquakes 911 | HenRen/Gen Buck & Karen | 5.5k

Karen Wilson is awesome and needs more stories

NOVEMBER

DECEMBER

Reckless in Devotion Fast & Furious | Brian/Dom | 33k posted in 2024

The 5th installment in Marked in Trust series!! This took me so much longer than I thought it would but it's finally up and running and I am so excited for everyone to see what's to come :)

To Be Bonded Shadowhunters | Malec & Parabatai | 30k posted in 2024

I still literally cannot believe that this is finally being shared. I started this story in 2019 - I know I keep saying that but like this thing took me 5 years. It is my nemesis, finally vanquished. And people are enjoying it??? What? I've been cursing its name and people are now enjoying it. Wild. Wonderful

2024 has been kind of a crappy year for me irl but in fic it as been wonderful. A new fandom, so many words shared and, best of all, such amazing support and kindness from readers. You're all so wonderful and you have truly been one of the brightest pieces of my year. I cannot thank you all enough.

Tagging: You know the drill, if you saw this and thought "I wanna do that" then you're tagged. Literally @ me so I can read yours, that's how tagged you are.

#My Writing

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 months ago

Text

Happy Christmas, Mr. Holmes

Sherlock Holmes x OC, established relationship, some fluff, some romance, humor, and sweet holiday feels🎄❤️🎄 four chapters, complete

Christmas comes to Baker Street in a form Sherlock Holmes had never envisioned. There's a sweetness in seeing the holiday through someone else's eyes, and there are lessons in holiday spirit and the nature of giving--as well as how Love makes the season even brighter--to be learned.

(One of my oldest fics, this is also one of my favorites ~ for it was motivated not only by my love for BBC Sherlock, but even more so by my love of Christmas. I put a lot of my heart into this one, and if you should give it a read, I hope you find it pleasing, and in keeping with the season! Excerpt under the cut.)

Somehow, without even meaning to, Sherlock's path had taken him here: Notting Hill, Saint Mary of the Angels Church. He certainly had not intended to end up here, not as he left the shoppe (its final customer of the day), his hot food wrapped up to be consumed along the way. Had he been woolgathering so much that he'd moved without thinking to the place he knew Tessa to be? Or, he asked himself truthfully, had he intended to get here all along, knowing that his heart really did long for the comfort of community which the brightly lit church represented, the warmth that seemed to flow out with the strains of music coming from within? The thought of Tessa inside, joined in prayer and song with others of her faith--was that the magnet that drew him here? A man who stood outside of everything this building represented, yet now wanted nothing more than to do as he was doing--opening the door to feel the tide of shared and simple Christmas gladness wash over him.

Sherlock allowed himself to enter the vestibule, but stopped there, feeling it was enough for now. He knew, not just from what he could hear (and remembering similar services he had attended as a boy), but from the time itself, that the service was almost over. It was quite enough to imagine her inside, singing joyfully, and most likely wishing he was there to share it with her. He felt a sense of peace that had eluded him all day long, a sense of belonging that had for so many years been out of reach. He thought of those who had made it possible for him to feel he finally fit in somewhere--of John and Mrs. Hudson, of Lestrade and Molly, and of his Tessa, who had worked a minor miracle of sorts; they had gotten him to this marvelous threshold, and she had managed to carry him across it at last. Sherlock felt such a swell of love for all of them, that he was grateful to be alone, fearing the light of it would shine so obviously upon his face that he might be taken, by strangers, for a fool...

tagging: @strangedreamings (who may have seen this a few times before😉) @ben-locked (putting the 'ship' aside, just for the Christmas feels?) @mousedetective @darsynia (because you 'get me' enough to appreciate this fic) @aphroditesdilemma @hithertoundreamtof23 (dunno if you like Sherlock, but I'm betting you like Christmas stories) @aeterna-auroral-avenger (for the Faith we share & which makes you a Christmas person 365 days a year)

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thevoidscreams · 10 months ago

Note

Request prompt for mating press March for you!

You have recently been assigned as a chapter serf for the black templars and have been trying your best but it’s tiring work and during one of your late shifts you have fallen asleep! You thought you’d gotten away with it and no one had noticed but the next day you are told the chaplain has asked for you. Turns out he spotted you whilst you were sleeping on the job when you should have been attending your sacred duties. Perhaps big stern dom chaplain will teach you a lesson to reaffirm your faith…

Day 19

Pairing: Chaplin Soren (oc)x reader

Warnings: mentions of religion, spanking, bondage, cumming inside, power imbalance (if you squint)

My head snapped up, and I shook it as I looked around, confused. I clenched a soft rag in my hand, and brushed a stray bit of drool from my lip. What was I doing here?

It came back to me as I smelled the smoke from the censer. I had been polishing the steps leading up to the altar inside one of the ship's many chapel.

I looked around in a panic. No one was around. How long had I drifted off for? A few minutes, a few hours.

Throne preserve me, I'd fallen asleep on the job. This was sure not to go over so well if I was seen. Hopefully, I could finish up quickly and be on my way. I didn't see anyone, and surely I would have been chastised for falling asleep in a place of worship. The chapel wasn't for napping. It was for giving praise and worship to the god emperor. I bowed my head and continued on with my task, ashamed. Finishing the task as swiftly as I could I hurried out. At least no one saw me.

Dark eyes watched from behind the visor of the skull. Disappointment and disapproval swelled in Soren's hearts. He had liked you as much as it was possible for an astartes of his station to like a serf. You'd done excellent work up until this point, so diligent, completing tasks without complaint. And your work in this very room meant that you'd built a good report. It was a shame you'd likely never see him the same after he decided your punishment.

His hands twitched as he reminded himself that you are only a human. You do not have his endurance. But still sleeping in the chapel could not be allowed to go without some form of penance being served.

He felt his body stirring at the idea. He'd have to punish you so you didn't do this again. He'd have to be..very thorough.

The next day I was assigned to the chapel again on orders of Soren, one of the kinder and more personable chaplins. I thought about him and the odd request as I ran my rag over the stone steps again. I wondered if there was a reason I was to clean it again at night. Probably as not to interfere with the worship during the day.

The sound of ceramite on stone made me look up sharply. I was almost done.

"Good evening, my lord." I spoke reverently, not looking up past his greaves. I knew who he was without having to look past that point.

I'd cleaned his armor enough times to know it by heart.

"It is rather late, little one." His rich voice greeted me from behind the skull.

"Yes, I am almost finished. This is the last step, it took me a bit longer last night as well. There’s much to do." I replied, heart beating a bit faster than normal. I liked the Chaplin, Soren. I found him insightful and he was often good company to have while I worked. He would tell me stories.

"Perhaps you would have finished sooner had you not been sleeping."

My body went cold, not like the room was chilly, but as if my blood had spontaneously frozen in my veins. My hand stopped over the step and my limbs locked up, tense as if readying to make a run for it.

"It would seem you understand just how unacceptable this action is. Perhaps it was merely a mistake. I wouldn't have taken you for someone who disrespects the god Emperor. But then again, I am no psyker, I cannot see a person's soul."

"It was an accident my lord. My body was weak, there was so much work...forgive me..." My voice came out quiet, like a mouse.

“That is no excuse. If you are not fit for the rigors of your station then perhaps you might better serve in another form.”

My chest tightened and I found tears of fright blurring my eyes.

“It will not happen again, I promise. Please my Lord. I do not wish to serve as a servitor.”

Soren laughed, it was a deep rolling sound that flowed over the stones around me and despite my fear I found the sound lifting my soul ever so slightly.

“Dry your tears serf. I will not tell anyone. You have served well until now and I, unlike many of my brothers, understand that your body has limits that you can not always fight.” So he’d been jesting, just to see me squirm. He wasn’t going to have me turned into a mindless robotic slave.

He grabbed my arm, I was going to drop to my knees and kiss his ceramite clad feet in thanks but I found myself up on my feet, his free hand tilting my face back to face his helm.

“But you will need to face some punishment for this. You have allowed yourself to falter in your duties to our Emperor. You must confess and repent for these sins. I will handle you and this event will stay between us. If I deem it satisfactory then no one else will need to know.”

I nodded, fresh tears of relief streaked down my cheeks.

“Thank you my lord. I am so very sorry.”

Soren still held my arm and forced me, much more gently than I had expected towards a room towards the back where I had never been before.

The door was heavy, an ornate carved wooden door. My body was pressed firmly against it by him as he reached for the knob. I felt a familiar heat in my belly as he grunted softly and forced it open on creaky hinges.

The room was dim, lit only by the candles on a desk.

“I will remove my armor and hear your confession.”

I tilted my head in confusion as he let me go. Take his armor off, why would he need to do that?

He began to pull away pieces of his plate, placing them carefully, almost lovingly on a stand. I averted my gaze as he began to remove his body glove, my cheeks were probably very pink.

His helm was the final thing he pulled away and I found myself mesmerized by him. He was younger than I’d thought. His hair was a deep brown, cut short and neat. His skin was pale and his features were sharp. Throne he was beautiful, I found myself unable to look away. His eyes were dark, so deep I’d thought they were black till he lit a match off one candle to light several more. The depth of that blue was entrancing. The blueness of his eyes grew more apparent.

I felt as though I could dive into those blue pools and never resurface.

Soren came towards me, I hadn’t realized that I’d been backing up until my back hit the wall. He looked good in nothing but light pants and a tabard.

“You will confess to me now.” His deep voice sounded so clear and precise without the filter of a helmet. It sent pleasant shivers through my body.

“Yes, my lord.”

He guided me to my knees and I bowed my head in shame. Remembering why I was here.

“Tell me. What have you done?”

“I fell asleep in the middle of my duties to the Emperor. Leaving them unfinished while I rested. And I did so in the chapel. I slept in a holy place of worship.”

“Good. You have made a good confession. Is there anything else you would like to confess?”

I shook my head earnestly, I was sure that that was all.

“Very well, I will administer your penance, and you will repent.”

He made a motion for me to stand. I did, he took my arm in his and slapped a black iron cuff around it.

I flinched in surprise, he only chuckled. “Do not fight me. And this will go quickly.”

He took another cuff and locked it around my other wrist.

They were heavy and linked with a thick iron chain just as dark in color.

“For your penance,” he began as he dragged me to the wall and hung my chain on a hook just high up enough that I had to stand on the tips of my toes. “You will have one lash for every ten minutes you lay on the emperor's steps.”

One for every ten minutes. How long had I slept, two hours? That was twelve! Twelve lashes!

I craned my head to try and get a look at whatever implement he'd chosen and was surprised again to see not a flail or whip, but a paddle.

His bulky hand gripped the hem of my light gown and lifted it until the dress was over my head.

I wiggle my face free of the fabric and gasped as his fingers tugged my panties down as well. Leaving me with no layers between myself and the lather paddle.

Soren moved to a place where I couldn't turn my head and see him.

Soren admired the soft skin of your ass as he looked for just the right spot to begin. Throne you were a stunning creature. He felt his own excitement at having you chained and helpless under him.

He ought to be the one on his knees confessing. He was a Chaplin after all. But the way you whined in discomfort as you tapped around on the tips of your toes and looked so meek made his body hot.

He ran calloused fingers over the leather and then reached out to touch your warm supple skin.

Beautiful. Magnificent. Gorgeous. All failed to express how perfect you looked right then.

Drawing the paddle along your rump he felt his manhood twitch at your gasp.

You were enjoying this too much, he decided. He came to your side, paddle in hand and pulled it back to deliver a hardy thwack against your skin and he drank in your cry with a stifled groan of his own.

The pain was sudden and hot. My right cheek stung as the paddle made contact. It hurt, so why did I not cry out in pain. And why was there a deep and sudden urge to feel more of that burn?

“Count.”

Soren demanded.

I drew in a shaky breath. “One.”

“Good.”

He brought the paddle down on the other cheek.

“Two.” I squeaked the number.

I felt strange, a certain anticipation for the next blow growing. I gasped as his next blow went a bit lower and I heard Soren grunt in satisfaction at something.

“Three.” I mewed.

It was much the same for four and five.

I felt something warm trickle down my thighs and thought for a moment that I was bleeding.

Soren brought the paddle down for six, his manhood was rock hard now. The sight of your excitement dripping down your thighs was simply splendid. “Six~”

He hung the paddle on the hook next to the one you were chained to.

He needed this, his rough hands brushed your rump.

“Chaplin?”

Your voice, your body, your everything. It drove him mad.

His hand came down causing an audible mewl of pleasure to pour from your lips.

He licked his parched lips.

“Number?” He growled.

“Seven.”

“Good..” He almost called you a good girl. “Five more.”

I nodded at his words.

His free hand held my hip as he brought the other down to clap against my ass.

“Mmm!~ E-eight!” This was meant to be a punishment, I shouldn't have been enjoying it.

His hand seemed to linger before he drew it away.

Bringing it back down, alternating which cheek he struck.

Soren was practically panting as you moaned the word “nine” . He looked down at your soaked thighs, licking his lips and closing his eyes as he took a steadying breath.

It only served to fill his nose with your heady and feminine scent.

The Chaplin swallowed and raised his hand, bringing it down again, you counted out and he watched a trickle of slick fluids course down from your wet lower lips.

My ass was on fire, but I'd never felt so high.

Only two more, I whined at the thought. After these next two he'd send me away. I didn't want that, I didn't want him to send me off into the world never to speak of this again.

I'd just have to savor this.

His hand came down, I gasped, and wantonly moaned the next number. “Eleven.”

Soren came around to my back again, I could hear his quiet panting. Was he as affected by this as I was?

“Just one more.”

“Yes, my lord. Give me my just punishment.” The words seemed to pour forth unbidden.

Soren tensed, his hand on the verge of delivering the final blow.

He gave it, in the center of your ass. His hands came away wet, a splotch of your juices on his fingers.

He barely registered your count as he raised his fingers to his lips, he needed this, but it was wrong. Wasn't it?

His tongue darted out and his cock jumped as your salty musk coated his tongue.

His eyes slid shut, it was a moment of pure indulgence. The flavor was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Fertile with the promise of your body.

Soren could bear it no longer and dropped to his knees. His hands gripping your thighs, just as taste, it was all he needed. A taste.

I was shocked by his actions, my voice failing me as I waited for whatever it was he was going to do.

I felt his thumbs brush the softness of my lower lips as he pulled them apart. I moaned softly into the fabric that had been pulled up and over my neck.

“My lord? What-” My question died on my lips as his tongue ran up my thigh. Collecting the warm sticky fluids I'd been spilling since we began.

He stopped just below my cunt and I whimpered. His tongue then made the slow torturously slow path up my other thigh.

Throne I needed more, I needed him to do this properly.

Was this part of the punishment, teasing me with that hot muscle till I was half mad with need? I already felt close to that anyway. But I doubted it, none of this felt like it was calculated. A spur of the moment decision to indulge in a forbidden fruit.

I could feel his breath, hot and wet as he rubbed at the outer edges of my cunt. His fingers dug into the meat of my thighs and I felt him lean in, silently urging him to do it.

Soren's mind raced, his thoughts a jumble. The sweetness called to him. He watched as a fresh gush of arousal wetted your entrance, and his breathing hitched as he felt the desire to lap it up with his tongue.

He shook his head, his knees felt shaky aashe stood. It was an alien sensation, uncertainty.

“Your punishment has absolved you of your sins… but you still lack the strength you need to finish your tasks. I will..” He swallowed. “I will fill you with the strength you need.”

The raw excitement that I felt was like nothing I'd experienced before.

“Yes, please my Lord. I am weak.” I gasped, submitting to his will and judgment.

I felt something warm and solid hit my back and jolted in place. His hand grasped the thing and his fingers grazed against my back as he stroked himself.

“Beg.”

It was all he had to say.

“Please my Lord, I am so weak. So frail, I need you to lend me your strength, your certainty. So I may serve the emperor with the same fervor and will as you.”

I felt the tip of his cock catch at my entrance and shivered. Then there was a terrible burning as he pressed in his length, made only a fraction easier by my wetness. He was big, so, so big.

He filled me, leaving me breathless as I felt his tip somewhere near my stomach.

Soren leaned over me, a groan welling up from his lips as his hands found the walls for support.

Soren's eyes practically rolled back in his skull as he pushed in as far as he could go. Breathing a few words of adoration as he regained his senses.

His right hand remained on the wall as his left arm grabbed you around the waist. Lifting you just a bit off the floor as your hands grasped the chain making it rattle

“I will give you all that you need, you need only ask.” His hips pulled back, his cock slipping out a fraction, a groan of satisfaction at finally tending to his more human needs accompanied the action.

He wasn't going to stop till he was fully satisfied.

He set a hard even pace, his hips clapping against your tender backside.

I whined, the pain hadn’t lasted, as soon as he began his cock touched all the empty places inside me that I hadn’t known were there.

I cried out for him, begging, pleading, my desperation for his cock was almost shameful. But my shame was the farthest thing from my mind at that moment. I just wanted to cum on him, and feel him cum in me in return.

It was a greedy feeling. Wanting more than he was already giving me. His chest was a persistent heat on my back and he panted out each breath.

Though I knew his transhuman form was not winded.

“Does my body please my lord?”

He groaned, and I felt a smattering of drool hit my shoulder blade as his face lowered down to press into my neck.

“It is..” He grunted, “an excellent vessel to receive the grace of the emperor. I should keep you filled, so that you may never falter. I will have to see to this task.. personally.” He moaned the last word and I clenched around him involuntarily as I understood his meaning.

“I would be honored by my lord’s offer. I would cherish the feeling of being filled by his strength and light. Please my Lord.” I squeaked, pressing my cheek against him. “Please never let me be empty of you.”

He groaned, and picked up his pace, lifting me further till my chain came off the hook. Soren held me as he stumbled back into a chair with me in his lap. He grunted and the sudden change in position forced me down on his cock further. Soren fucked me with an almost mindless need. Mumbling under his breath as if he was praying.

“Never let you be empty. Keep you full of the light. Keep you.. full.”

His left hand went to my stomach and he touched it with such love. It made me shiver and made my head spin.

“Yes.. full.” I gasped and finally came undone on his cock.

Soren fucked me through it, his pace increasing unevenly as he worked his way up to his climax.

He held me down on his cock as he let loose all of his seed.

I felt the heat with every pulse of his cock as he continued to fill my womb with rope after rope.

It felt like he came forever, but really it could only have been a few seconds. Yet I was full by the time he was done.

Just as he promised.

Soren undid the cuff, setting them on his desk and fixing my dress.

Then he took me to a cot I hadn't noticed before, he sat us down and laid me across his lap. Picking up a small bottle from a box next to his bed.

I wasn't sure what he was doing until he lifted the dress again and poured a generous amount of oil onto my still reddened ass.

He set the bottle aside and his calloused hands set to work, massaging the oil into my sore cheeks.

“Thank you.” I broke the silence and he hummed.

“I.. I will not say that I am sorry for all that had transpired here. You took your punishment well..but afterwards.. I did not intend for that. You must forgive me.”

He urged and I did something I didn't expect. I laughed.

It was such an absurd circumstance I just couldn't help it.

“Why are you laughing?” His hand clenched around my ass cheek and I could hear the hurt in his voice.

“There’s nothing to forgive my lord. I would happily do that with you again. And besides, I believe you said you would keep me full right?”

I peek over my shoulders to see his face darken with a blush. It was very cute.

“I would not force that on you.” He told me as he kept rubbing.

“I figured.. but, I enjoyed it. Very much so, that was the best I've ever had.”

“Truely?”

“Yeah, if anything, I feel I should be thanking you. It was fun, even if it was meant to be a punishment.”

Soren met my gaze and held it.

“I will have you assigned to this chapel then.. you will see to its care and when you do a good job… I will keep you filled.”

I smiled at his words. “Thank you my lord.”

He finished and I was going to get up but he pulled me into him, laying down.

“The stairs-” I began but he cut me off.

“Will be there in the morning. Rest now.”

I nodded and laid my head on his chest, sleep came easy.

Soren held you close for hours, just brushing his hands over your form and watching you as you slept. It was good that you rested so easily in his arms. You were going to need all the strength you could get because he was already planning on fulfilling his promise when you woke up.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #40k #my writing #mating press march #warhammer 40k x reader #astartes x reader #black templar #black templar oc x reader #oc x reader #my oc

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ginnsbaker · 1 year ago

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (20/23)

Chapter summary: You and Wanda go back for another couple's therapy session where Wanda reveals her abandonment issues; Afterwards, you and Wanda arrive in LA for Christmas with her family.

Chapter word count: 6.5k+ | Tags: Therapy, Healing, Comfort | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Christmas part one. Can't believe there's only three more chapters and the epilogue. Enjoy!

AO3 | Masterlist

Next part: Twenty-One

Twenty

As the second therapy session with Calliope gets underway, she opens with a warm smile, “Let's start with the assignment from our previous meeting. Were you both able to write and share your letters?”

You and Wanda share a quick glance before you respond with an enthusiastic, “Yeah, we did.”

You both can't help but beam, a sense of accomplishment clearly reflected in your faces.

“That's great to hear,” Calliope says warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Tell me about the experience. How did it feel to be so open with each other?”

You glance at Wanda, who gives a small nod to signal she'll take the lead. She inhales deeply, her gaze momentarily darting to you before returning to Calliope.

“It was, you know... really special. Romantic,” Wanda confesses, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks as she feels a bit silly, like a teenager raving about a crush. Her fingers absentmindedly twirl in loops on her knees. “I mean, it wasn't a promise or anything, but being able to understand just how deeply she cares for me... it made my heart feel full, in the best way.”

Calliope's attention then shifts to you, her body language encouraging and patient as she waits for you to share your thoughts.

After a thoughtful pause, you answer, “It felt like unshackling myself. Putting all my feelings into words, it was like shedding some weight off my shoulders. And reading what Wanda wrote…” You pause, turning to look at Wanda, a gentle warmth lighting up your eyes. “It... It grounded me. Reminded me of why we are doing this, why we're trying to fix things in the middle of all this confusion... It's because we love each other.”

“I must say, I'm incredibly moved by the strides you both have made,” Calliope says. She then subtly changes her posture, turning to focus more directly on Wanda.

“Now that we've started delving into Y/N's trust issues, it's only fair that we address your feelings too, Wanda. So, let's talk about your trust in Y/N. How are you feeling about that?” Calliope asks.

A flicker of surprise crosses your face, reflected in Wanda's as well. The room falls into a hushed pause as Wanda processes the question, her brow creased in deep thought. The possibility of Wanda having her own trust issues hadn't even crossed your mind. You've been so focused on your own sense of betrayal and the need to rebuild trust, you didn't consider that she might be struggling too. As you wait for Wanda's response, a knot tightens in your stomach, making you realize just how much her answer matters to you.

For a brief moment, Wanda looks at Calliope with a blank expression. “I... I'm not quite certain how to answer that,” she concedes, her fingers subconsciously toying with a loose thread on her sleeve.

You find yourself hanging onto her every word.

“Does it count that I was jealous of Yelena even before she and Y/N got together? There was an entire history between Y/N and Yelena that we never really discussed... that I was never really a part of.”

“Lack of trust can often sow seeds of insecurity, Wanda, which in turn leads to feelings of jealousy. Trust doesn't only involve a faith in someone's actions, but also in their words and their shared history.” Calliope explains, and then she turns to you. “Y/N, this is something you need to take into account. It's not only about how your actions impact Wanda's trust in you, but also how much you're willing to share and be transparent about your past and your feelings.”

You swallow dryly and nod at Calliope’s words. It's not easy, admitting this. But it's something you realize you need to say.

“Wanda, I wasn't being completely truthful with you back then,” you start, feeling the weight of the words as they leave your lips. “When I told you I didn't think it was worth mentioning… The truth is, it made me uncomfortable to talk about her.”

Wanda's brow furrows slightly, but she doesn't interrupt. You take that as a sign to continue.

“Yelena was... she was important to me. At some point, before you and I met, I thought she was the one. And when that love was ripped away from me because she moved to another country, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So when we reconnected while we were married, it was... it was complicated. Especially because you never knew about her. I didn't know how to bring it up. How to explain it to you. So I avoided it. And I realize now that was wrong. It wasn't fair to you.” you say.

Wanda studies you intently, her hands clasped tightly together as she works up the courage to voice her question. “And what...what did you feel when you saw Yelena again that time after all those years?”

You take a deep breath. This honestly thing is harder than you thought.

“When I saw Yelena again,” you begin, your voice low and steady. “It was like being transported back in time. There was this rush of old memories, some good, some painful. It was a little unsettling.”

“Did you… realize anything?” Wanda asks slowly. She doesn't spell it out, but you can read between the lines: Did you feel a spark between you two?

You don’t think you can answer that without telling Wanda something first.

“When Yelena and I broke up, our story ended on an open note. There was no closure and part of me always wondered 'what if'. But then you happened, Wanda. You walked into my life and turned it upside down in the most beautiful way.”

You take a deep breath, looking at Wanda, her wide eyes locked onto yours, filled with anticipation. “Before I asked you to marry me, I thought about Yelena. I wondered what it meant to still have an open chapter with her. But in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty, you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Wanda visibly relaxes at this, which makes you regret the next words to come out of your mouth.

“But when I found out what really happened, it just floored me,” you say. “Our trust was broken, our marriage ended, and I was left feeling totally confused and hurt. I had to question everything we ever had together.”

Your voice drops to a softer tone, “After our divorce, my history with Yelena seemed like something unfinished that I needed to explore. I was just trying to make sense of everything, looking for a way to move on. I let myself think about 'what if' with her, and even gave a relationship with Yelena a chance. But we both know how that turned out, don't we?”

You give a small shake of your head, smiling sadly, “But to directly answer your question: No, it didn't spark any old romantic feelings when I ran into her in Soho. I didn't feel the same butterflies that I felt when I fell in love with her back then, or the ones I felt when I fell for you. And I realized recently that what we had for the second time around was more about seeking a familiar comfort, a way for me to move from you.”

Wanda nods as she takes everything in. It suddenly feels like a funeral setting, mourning a series of losses.

“I think I’m just realizing now more clearly, the magnitude of what I’ve done,” Wanda begins. Her gaze is steady, albeit heavy with a kind of self-awareness that only comes after a period of reflection and growth. “When I messed up, it wasn't just about you and me. It hurt people we care about. The fallout wasn't contained to just us, it spread to almost everyone we really care about.”

Wanda inhales a deep, shuddering breath, visibly collecting herself. “I can't erase what I did. I can't change the past. But I can learn from it. That huge mistake I made... it's a part of me now. I have to live with it, not as a source of shame, but as a constant reminder of where I went wrong.”

Calliope listens, her expression softening with understanding as Wanda speaks. When Wanda finishes, she nods, thoughtful.

After a brief pause to let her words sink in, Calliope segues into the next subject. “Is there anything else that has strained your trust in Y/N, or have we covered everything?”

Wanda, after a thoughtful silence, finally murmurs, “There's something else…”

You turn to your ex-wife, surprised by her admission. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, even though a nagging feeling at the back of your mind tells you that you're about to be blindsided once again by something in your relationship with Wanda.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Her voice is a bit shaky as she starts, “I... I'm afraid that one day you'll just... leave. Without a word, without a trace. Just like my mother did to me and my brother when we were young.”

She looks directly at you, vulnerability written all over her face. You can see the fear that grips her in those beautiful eyes, a fear that you've unknowingly contributed to.

“That night, when I asked you to stay... when I overdosed... it was that fear. That feeling of abandonment, it just... it just became too much,” she whispers, her voice trailing off.

You’re stunned into silence at the enormity of her confession. You had no idea that she carried such deep-rooted fears. It makes you view your actions and decisions in a new light. You may have unknowingly triggered her worst fear, exacerbating the pain she felt from your separation.

You reach across the couch to take her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I... I didn't realize that night what I was doing to you,” you say, looking down at your hands, now entwined. “I should've stayed. Maybe then things would've been different. If I'd understood...” Your voice trails off, choked with regret.

Wanda’s overdose, her hospitalization, it really was your fault. “Y/N,” Calliope's gentle voice cuts through your self-recrimination, “I see that you're blaming yourself, but it's crucial to recognize that we are all responsible for our own actions. Wanda's overdose was her response to the pain, a decision driven by her emotional state at the time. While you did play a role in her life, you didn't dictate her choices. There were other ways for her to cope, other people she could have reached out to. The path she took, as desperate as it may have been, was her decision. Our challenge now is to understand why she felt that was her only option, rather than assigning blame.”

Action and reaction. You understand that these are the things you can control if they are your own, but that doesn't negate the fact that other factors can influence them. Calliope's words don't quite alleviate the guilt threatening to engulf you.

“Y/N, would you care to share your intentions that night when you left Wanda? Did you plan to sever all communication with her?” Calliope gently prods.

“Calliope, can we–” Wanda begins, her voice breaking as if the words are lodged in her throat. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“No, Wanda, it’s okay,” you say softly. Your eyes lock with Wanda's, holding her gaze as if trying to communicate a silent promise. You then turn to Calliope, drawing a deep breath.

“I... I don't know," you admit, your voice low. “I was so hurt and angry... I couldn't think straight. But I never intended to... to abandon her like that. I just... I needed some space. I needed time to process everything that happened. And I thought she needed it too.”

Wanda cuts in to support your statement, “We were hurting each other... every day, every moment. It was as if we were stuck in a loop of anger, pain, and... meaningless sex. That week... it was like we were poisoning each other.”

Wanda's voice softens, reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea, “I understand now why you had to leave then. But this time, if we're trying... if we're really committed to this, can I count on you to communicate with me if you ever feel like you need space?”

As Calliope turns to you for an answer, you feel an immediate sense of calmness washing over you.

“Of course, Wanda,” you assure her with a small smile.

With a satisfied nod, Calliope wraps up the joint part of your therapy session, “That's a good place to pause for now.” She looks over at both of you, a proud smile on her face.

She then turns to you specifically, “Y/N, would you still be okay to proceed with your individual session after a short 30-minute break?”

You nod quickly. You want nothing more than to proceed and talk to Calliope about some things that have made it difficult for you to sleep in recent days.

“Alright, then. I'll see you shortly,” Calliope remarks, retreating to her desk, her pen already dancing across her notebook.

You and Wanda rise from your seats, and she mentions that she needs to rush back to the cafe to work on potential recipes for the “Cup-off”. You've only heard about this competition in passing one evening, but you nod supportively, thankful for her patience and engagement throughout these therapy sessions. She rewards you with a kiss on the cheek, and a promise to call you later.

“Okay, Y/N, let's begin,” Calliope starts, taking a deep and grounding breath. You find yourself silently admiring her resilience and strength. Her job seems like more of an emotional balancing act than you initially thought, bearing witness to all sorts of personal burdens day in and day out. Yet here she is, prepared to cross another emotional minefield. You briefly wonder if it ever gets to her–the burden of other people's problems.

“So, Y/N, how are you doing right now?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you settle back into the same spot you occupied just thirty minutes ago. “You were in the room with us,” you say with a wry smile. “You know how it went.”

Calliope grins slightly, responding patiently, “Yes, I was there. But a lot can shift in thirty minutes. It's fascinating, isn't it? The fluidity of human emotions. They can change, sometimes so rapidly.”

You smile good-naturedly, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup still lingering in your hands. Glancing out onto the balcony of the reception area had given you a moment to breathe, to reflect.

“Actually, I'm doing alright,” you tell Calliope, your voice steadier than before. “The quick break helped me calm down. I was upset, I won't lie, after hearing about the impact of my leaving on Wanda. And the thought of almost losing her without even realizing it... I would never be able to forgive myself if something had happened to her.”

“It won't be easy, but you need to forgive yourself. Wanda has,” Calliope says.

You take a deep breath, trying to absorb her words. It's one thing to hear Wanda say she forgives you, but to actually forgive yourself? That's a more complicated matter.

“Thank you, Calliope. I'll try.” You pause, collecting your thoughts, before adding, “There is actually something else on my mind.”

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Natasha,” you say, the name echoing in the room, fraught with significance. “She's my best friend. Well, was, I guess. And she's Yelena's sister.”

A brief understanding flashes across Calliope's face. “Ah,” she murmurs, leaning back in her chair. “That's a complex dynamic.”

“To say the least,” you reply, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. “I messed up with Yelena, right? I...I kissed Wanda while we were still together. And after Yelena broke up with me, Natasha and I had a big fight. She's refused to talk to me since. So, I’m just gonna go straight to it and ask you: How do I fix it?”

Calliope studies you for a moment, her gaze steady. “Y/N,” she begins, leaning further back in her chair, “A common misconception about therapy is that therapists are the 'fixers', that we hold all the answers to people's problems. But the truth is, we're here just to guide, to help you look at situations in a healthier way.”

You find yourself nodding, even though a part of you yearns for a simple solution.

Calliope pauses, letting you digest her words. “As for your situation with Natasha, you must understand that your control is limited. You cannot control her reactions or feelings. What you can control are your actions and intentions.”

She sees the understanding dawning in your eyes. “Your desire to fix the situation is natural, especially when you've caused hurt. But apologies can't be rushed, and forgiveness can't be demanded. However, there are steps you can take to start the process of healing.”

It's not an immediate solution, but it's a direction to follow. “I see,” you mutter, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Can you share with me what these steps are?”

Calliope smiles at your willingness to learn the process. “First, acknowledge what you've done wrong. In your case, it seems like you've done that. You've recognized that your actions with Wanda while being with Yelena caused you to hurt Natasha,” she starts.

“Second, reflect. Why did you do it? From what I’ve gathered, it’s because of your intense feelings for Wanda, which you have acknowledged in our previous sessions. Next, and most critically, how can you prevent such actions in the future?” she continues.

“Third, make the apology, but make sure it's sincere. People can tell when you're not genuinely sorry. Don't just say it to make yourself feel better, but rather to acknowledge the hurt you've caused," she advises, her gaze fixed on yours, driving home the importance of the words.

“I tried when I could,” you respond, frustration seeping into your voice. “But now, I don't even know how or when I could get another chance to…”

“Well, you’ve done your part, Y/N. Maybe you were sincere, but it wasn’t the right time for her yet. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it.” Calliope says.

You rub your face, feeling the weariness creeping in. “I just... I hope she knows how deeply sorry I am.”

“She will, Y/N, in her own time. Which brings us to the last advice I can give you,” Calliope says. “Give them time and space. It's crucial to understand that they may need time to process your apology and decide how they feel about it. They may not forgive you immediately, or even at all. That's something you'll have to accept.”

That's something you'll have to accept.

You went to kindergarten with Natasha. You shared birthdays together and even a funeral.

If Natasha never forgives you, then you permanently lose a piece of your life.

A piece of yourself.

***

The persistent drone of the plane engines always unsettled you, making you hesitant about leaving the familiarity of solid ground. This feeling has you rooted in one city, avoiding globe-trotting adventures or cross-country escapades.

But when Wanda asked you to go with her to Los Angeles to celebrate Christmas with her family, you couldn't say no. The way her eyes lit up when she asked you was irresistible, and with your mom planning to spend the holidays with her friends in Europe, you faced the prospect of being alone in Manhattan. Despite your discomfort with planes, you decided to put your fears aside and join her on the trip.

Wanda, otherwise the perfect companion, is now constantly on her phone, taking calls every five minutes, and when she's not on a call, she's texting. You overhear snippets about delayed orders and maintenance contracts, so it's probably her suppliers, but the incessant buzzing and clicking of her phone still gnaws at your attention.

Who are they, these people reaching out to her? Even if it's just business, what are all these conversations about? Wanda happens to be a very attractive woman, and people aren't blind to it.

She takes wind of your unease eventually, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours, a reassuring smile on her face. “It's just the suppliers and the maintenance people for the shop,” she explains, but the phone still rests in her other hand, a barrier that you can't quite overcome.

Before you can respond, the pilot's voice echoes through the cabin, signaling take-off, you instinctively brace yourself, your knuckles whitening as you clutch the armrests tightly. Noticing your visible discomfort, Wanda gently peels your rigid fingers away from the armrest and threads them through hers. A soft gasp escapes her as your grip tightens around her fingers instinctively, harder than you mean to. Sparky, comfortably nestled in Wanda's lap, looks considerably more at ease than you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you brace for the sensation of the accelerating plane.

“It's okay, love,” Wanda reassures you. Her thumb traces comforting circles over the back of your hand, and you cling to the calming rhythm.

The plane picks up speed, the familiar pressure building in your chest. You suck in a quick breath, your free hand gripping the armrest on your other side.

Suddenly, Sparky lifts his head from Wanda's lap and turns to you, his furry face full of concern. His soft whimpering and puppy eyes manage to pull a small smile from you. Somehow, his innocent worry makes the tension ebb away slightly.

With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Wanda whispers, “We're about to lift off. Just remember to breathe.”

As the plane ascends, your heart flutters in response to the shift in gravity. The world outside the window begins to shrink, the vast expanse of the city transforming into a model town. You keep your eyes shut, focusing on the steady rhythm of Wanda's thumb on your hand. If you’re going to die from a plane crash today, you find comfort in having Wanda’s assurances against your ear as the last sound you’ll ever hear.

“See, we're okay,” Wanda says after a moment, a note of triumph in her voice.

You open your eyes slowly, the cabin steady around you. As you look out of the window, the sight of the sprawling city below is enough to take your breath away.

“Do I get a reward for doing a great job?” you ask with a smirk.

A playful grin takes over her features as she leans in, pressing a light kiss to your lips. She then whispers in your ear, her voice low and sweet, “You’ll get the rest of your reward tonight, baby.”

The sound of her voice makes you tingle in all the right (wrong) places and it effectively distracts you enough from your fear of flying, allowing for some much-needed conversation.

“How’s the cup competition coming along?”

“Cup-off,” Wanda corrects you with a chuckle, her chin coming to rest on your shoulder, her breath fanning against your neck as she speaks. “It’s been fun coming up with different flavors, but I don’t know…” she trails off. “But, let's face it. I'm just a home cook who loves her espresso machine, not a seasoned barista. I'll be up against real coffee connoisseurs who've been perfecting their brews for years.”

“And that's what makes it so interesting, don't you think?” You turn your head slightly to meet her eyes. “You bring something different to the table, Wanda. You have a passion and creativity that they might not have.”

She gives you a thoughtful look, clearly mulling over your words. Her lips curve into a small, appreciative smile, and she snuggles closer to you. “You always know how to make me feel better,” she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave, and you know she's doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up. But there's just plenty of things on your mind right now, and her phone buzzing with notifications again isn't helping.

“It's easy when it's the truth,” you say, stirring the topic back to coffee. “But how about you approach it from a different angle?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, tilting her head and looking at you with apt interest.

“Instead of flavors, return to the basics. Use single origin coffee for your brew and make sure to source only the best stuff. I don’t know. Maybe I’m not making sense. But… sometimes people just really appreciate quality ingredients, you know?”

Wanda's eyes widen, and you notice a spark of excitement in her expression. She leans closer, her attention fully on you, the phone momentarily forgotten. “You may be onto something,” she says slowly.

“Really?” Your eyebrows shoot up, surprised and delighted at her interest.

“Really,” Wanda's expression turns thoughtful, her gaze fixated on some distant point as she mulls over your idea some more. “In fact, that's actually a great idea, Y/N. It emphasizes the true essence of coffee, rather than masking it with a variety of flavors. It's raw, it's honest, and it's authentic... Just like you.”

Feeling a rush of warmth, you give her a teasing nudge. "Are you comparing me to a coffee now?"

She chuckles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe I am,” she says playfully, tightening her hold on your hand.

You roll your eyes, but your heart flutters at her words, and you find yourself leaning into her touch.

The idea of coming to LA with her just keeps getting better and better.

***

The flight to California feels endless, the hours stretching on. But the moment the plane touches down and the doors open, Wanda's face transforms with anticipation. As soon as she steps into the arrival lounge, her eyes lock onto a familiar figure. Her brother, standing a little taller than her but with the same striking features, waves energetically in her direction.

Without hesitation, Wanda breaks into a light run, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy. She launches herself into his embrace. Their arms wrap around each other, the distance and time apart melting away. “Piet,” she murmurs into his shoulder, her voice thick with emotion.

He ruffles her hair, his grin matching hers. "Been too long, little sis," he teases, before turning his attention to you.

“And Y/N,” Pietro greets you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he extends his hand. The handshake is civil, firm but noticeably cool. His polite smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and in that brief contact, you feel a lingering tension that serves as a reminder that not all is forgotten.

You grab Pietro's hand, giving it a quick shake. “Pietro.”

He quickly shifts his focus back to Wanda, bombarding her with questions you can't keep up with. As Wanda and Pietro chat and laugh, you feel a bit left out.

Pietro's cool demeanor makes it clear he knows about the issues between you and Wanda. You can't help but feel like you're on the outside looking in. Tugging on Sparky's leash and pulling your suitcase, you trail behind them, feeling like you're not really part of this little family reunion.

With Sparky trotting faithfully at your side, you traverse the bustling airport, lagging slightly behind Wanda and Pietro. Suddenly, Wanda seems to realize that you've fallen behind. She slows her pace and glances back at you with a soft smile. “Sorry,” she says, a slight flush to her cheeks as if she's only just remembered you're there too. “Got caught up with all the catching up.”

You offer her a small, understanding smile, grateful for the effort she's making to include you. “It's okay,” you reassure her. “It's been a while since you two last saw each other. Catch up all you want.”

Her smile widens at your words, and she squeezes your hand lightly in appreciation. The simple action is enough to wash away your earlier discomfort, reminding you that even if the situation isn't perfect, you're here for Wanda.

And that's all that matters.

To call Pietro's home in Sherman Oaks 'big' feels almost like an understatement. It's a sprawling, two-story house, complete with a wide, beautifully maintained front lawn and a driveway big enough to accommodate several cars. The house itself, painted in a warm, welcoming shade of beige, feels incredibly homely despite its size. The large windows and well-manicured garden make it clear that whoever lives here puts a lot of effort into maintaining it. For a brief moment, you feel a pang of intimidation; this is a far cry from the apartments and small houses back in New York.

Wanda's eyes widen in astonishment as they scan the surroundings. It seems she's just as impressed as you are. You lean towards her, whispering so that only she can hear, “Does Pietro really rake in that much cash?”

She gives you a sidelong glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement before shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I think it's his wife,” she responds in the same hushed tone.

“He got married again?” you ask, remembering the last time you heard about Pietro's personal life, he was going through a messy divorce.

Wanda nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, he did. And from what I can tell, I think it's really for keeps this time.”

Before you can comment further, a woman appears in the doorway. She's pregnant, very much so, at about six months based on her huge, round belly.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she exclaims, approaching Wanda with open arms. Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly finding the grandiosity of the mansion anything but modest. She kisses each of Wanda's cheeks, and her warm smile is genuine and infectious.

However, as you watch her, you can't help but gasp softly. You recognize her. Your mind instantly takes you back to the day of your job interview at Stark Industries, and it was her–Shannon–who interviewed you.

You're so shell-shocked by the sudden realization that you just stand there, momentarily frozen.

Wanda nudges you gently, a knowing look in her eyes. “You recognize Shannon, don't you?” she asks, not bothering to lower her voice.

Shannon turns to you and her smile widens, “I see you remember our meeting.”

You manage to stammer out a surprised, “Yes,” while trying to regain your composure.

Wanda seems to sense your anxiety. She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “I knew about the interview. Shannon told me,” she confesses, her voice just a whisper in your ear. “She was the one who gave me your new address.”

“She did what?”

“I think she did it to amuse herself because I was–I wasn’t clearly getting over you and she sort of nudged me in your direction. But I didn’t contact you until a month later, when Sparky had to be taken to the vet.”

“But my getting hired–that had nothing to do with you, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Wanda assures you, quickly dispelling your worry. “She only mentioned it to me over a month after we... after we had cut off communication. She did mention talking to Scott before hiring you.”

The mention of Scott's name brings a genuine smile to your face, tugging at the corner of your lips. You make a mental note to call him on Christmas Day.

“Why am I here hunting for a tree again?” Wanda grumbles, glancing back at the shrinking figure of you through Pietro's pickup truck window.

“Because you love me?” Pietro shoots back with a shrug.

“And Y/N, she'll be okay back there, right?”

“Y/N this, Y/N that,” Pietro mimics, feigning exasperation. “She’ll be fine.”

“You say that as if Shannon’s the loveliest host.”

“Well, she's been a lot nicer since she got pregnant.”

With a small sigh, Wanda leans back in her seat. The earlier excitement of seeing her brother at the airport is starting to fade. Now, without you or Sparky around, she feels a bit uneasy being alone with Pietro.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, sis. What’s up?”

Wanda takes a steadying breath, searching for the right words. “It's Y/N,” she begins. “Piet, I'm... I'm nervous. With Y/N here, with everything that happened, I don't know how…” She trails off, biting her lower lip.

Pietro is quiet for a moment. “And mom?” he prompts gently.

Wanda nods, her eyes distant. “And mom,” she echoes. “I wrote back to her, you know?”

Pietro raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You did?"

Wanda had always been more hesitant to reopen old wounds, especially when it came to their mother.

Wanda nods. “I did. I... I wrote about Dad. About how much it hurt when she left. I told her that I understand we don't really have a relationship right now, but... I want to try. I want to start fixing things.”

Pietro doesn't respond immediately. He keeps his eyes on the road, but the grip on his steering wheel tightens just a bit. When he finally speaks, his tone is softer than usual. “And what did she say?”

“I only sent it recently, just before we left for this trip,” Wanda admits. “I'm not sure whether she's received it yet or if she wrote me back.”

“So, does that mean you've forgiven her?” Pietro asks.

“I can't say for sure,” Wanda confesses. “But I'm hoping to, as I get to know this new version of her–the one you seem to have bonded with so well.”

“Wanda, she's really changed,” Pietro insists. “I've been telling you this.”

“I know, I know,” Wanda says, sounding a bit apologetic. “I'm sorry it's taken me this long to pay attention.”

“Hey, no worries,” Pietro says, giving her a gentle look. “You know what they say, right? Everything happens in its own time.”

After a beat, Pietro asks, “How are you and Y/N?”

“We're doing well, actually,” Wanda says, surprise softening her voice as if she's just realizing it herself. “Y/N has been... different. More open. More like the person I fell in love with. We're communicating more, which helps.”

“That's great to hear, Wanda. Really.”

“But,” she adds, her voice dropping to a murmur, “I still feel like there's a part of Y/N holding back. Like she’s still not fully trusting me... and I get it. I just... I hope that with time, that changes.”

Pietro smiles at her, nodding, then returns his attention to the road.

“And you and Shannon?” Wanda asks after it gets too quiet again. “How are things going?”

A shadow passes over Pietro's features, and he takes a deep breath before answering. “Actually... something happened. It's not bad, per se. But…”

“What did you do, Piet?” Wanda asks, her brows already pulled together into a frown.

“Why do you automatically assume it was me who did something?” Pietro retorts with a hint of amusement.

“Didn't you?”

Pietro hesitates for a moment before finally relenting, “...Yeah, I did.”

“So?”

“Well, about a week ago, I went out to a bar with a few friends from my old college football team, and I–”

“Tell me you did not cheat again on your pregnant wife!” Wanda exclaims, her voice rife with disbelief and anger.

With her sudden outburst, Pietro slams on the brakes, the vehicle screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. His arm aches sharply from the force of Wanda's indignant punch.

“Ow! Hey, stop,” Pietro shields himself from Wanda’s onslaught. “Jesus, Wands, I didn’t cheat on her, okay?”

Hearing this, Wanda pulls back, sinking back into her seat with a wary look on her face. She waits for him to explain further. He starts steering the car back into the highway again.

“I was just…” Pietro grapples for the right words, his expression troubled. “The therapy sessions with Dr. Williams... they've been beneficial, right? I mean, they've definitely helped you. And Shannon says they're making a difference for me too, but I…”

“But you still doubt yourself,” Wanda finishes his sentence, her voice laced with understanding.

Pietro affirms her statement with a heavy nod. “So that night, I thought I'd try a little experiment–see if I've really made as much progress as everyone says. I struck up a conversation with a woman at the bar, and before I knew it, we were flirting. It was like slipping back into an old rhythm–and it didn't matter to her that I was a married man.”

A bitter edge creeps into his voice as he pauses, gazing absently at the road ahead. “Then I offered to drive her home...that's usually when things take a turn, isn't it?”

Wanda recoils slightly, her nose scrunching up in distaste. The direction this story is taking leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She's uncomfortable, disturbed even, by the idea of Pietro willingly steering himself towards temptation like that. It feels too real, too human–a crisp reminder that making progress doesn't mean you're immune to setbacks.

“Right as she put her hand on my lap,” Pietro recounts, his throat tightening slightly as he swallows. “I understood that time spent in therapy doesn't just automatically make you a better person. It's the choices you make, every single day. Loving someone, being true to them...it's a conscious effort, day in and day out. You have to continuously choose them, especially when the sailing's smooth.”

Wanda absorbs his words, feeling the truth in them echo within her. She doesn't entertain any illusions about the two of you riding off blissfully into the sunset without a care in the world. Reality is far from that. Both you and her would always have to remain vigilant. Complacency, she knows, can be her worst enemy.

Wanda waits with bated breath. “What happened next?” she whispers.

He turns his gaze back to the road. “I moved her hand away from my lap and took her home, just like I said I would. Nothing more.”

“And did you tell Shannon about this?” Wanda asks, her voice steady, almost clinical.

Pietro’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeah, I did. The morning after. I didn’t want to keep it from her.”

Wanda's heart aches for her brother. Maybe he's truly attempting to become a better person, even if his methods are foolish at times.

“And how did she react?”

Pietro shrugs, attempting to mask his apprehension with a nonchalant demeanor. “She was... understandably upset. But she appreciated the honesty, I think. We're still working through it.”

Wanda silently reflects on his words. She can't imagine herself taking such a risk, not after everything that's happened. It isn't about doubting her own commitment or strength of character, but she feels it's a mark of respect to you not to willingly tread near the edge of temptation.

With a soft sigh, she turns her attention to the road ahead as they pull into the Christmas tree farm. The task of picking out a tree seems almost trivial in comparison to what they had just discussed, yet it also feels grounding—a joyful tradition amidst the complexities of life. For now, they have a Christmas tree to pick out.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #peter parker

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etoilesombre · 1 year ago

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Fic Master List

I got tired of having to decide which fic post to keep pinned, so I made this. Proper summaries, tags and warnings all on AO3.

Black Sails

Another Way - Silverflint, E, 29,399 words, complete.

Dubcon! But in a very old-school fanfic trope fuck or die way. It diverges from the scene where they get captured taking the warship. They do work through everything in the aftermath, and the end is very sweet actually.

By Faith of my Body - Silverflintmadi in various combinations, but emphasis on the flintmadi relationship. E, Chapter 1/4 posted.

Flint and Madi bond over books, the weight of leadership, and being in love with John Silver. FealtySub!Flint, shameless use of literature for my own nefarious purposes, and so much pining.

Another Troy to Burn - Series. Silverflint longfic series, my special precious baby and literally the first thing I ever wrote. It's canon where they're fucking the whole time but it doesn't change anything. There is a moodboard (thanks @jaynovz) and also a playlist.

A Composite Unity - E, 20,366 words, complete. The first two seasons, Flint pov. He is not having a great time.

The Salt and the Sea - E, 60,495 words, complete. Set during the season 2-3 break, how Silver decided to stay and what happened with the gold. He is also not having a great time.

It Only Made Me Real- E, chapters 4/? posted. Silver adjusting to his role as quartermaster, Flint being Flint during the raids. I swear upon everything holy that I WILL finish this series if its the last thing I do, but, it has been on hiatus for a while.

for to fight the cold - Silverflint, E, 11,283 words, complete. Flint arrives to rescue Silver while he is still being held captive on the beach after the failed attack on Nassau. The cathartic murder of Israel Hands, followed by angst, caretaking, and a sexual tension filled camping trip.

If It Was You - Silverflint, E, 17,430 words, complete. Free use gangbang porn that got out of control and also grew a lot of feelings. The boys spend the night in port on a mission. There is only one bed. Flint freaks out and makes questionable choices, Silver walks in on the whole thing, they have to work through it. Cathartic happy ending. The very Most dirty talk.

I'll Carry You Home Tonight - Silverflint, E, 6,604 words, complete. This one is just porn. Season 3-4 break, the guys are newly in a relationship, they get Pirate Date Night. It's working title was 'impact play and 5 phases of ass stuff'.

Kinkmeme-Verse - Series of prompt fills for 2024 Black Sails kinkmeme. I wrote the first two, saw the prompt for the third, and had a Vision of how they could all be connected, so here we are.

As a Boy - James Flint|McGraw/Admiral Hennessey, E, 5,121 words, complete. Young James McGraw is caught with a boy, and punished. Big content warning for CSA, which I tried to treat seriously.

Pressure - Silverflint, E, 4,504 words, complete. More watersports are we all shocked? This is kind of the ultimate expression of that, but really its an exploration of pain and grief and healing through BDSM.

Make Sail for the Dawn - Silverflint, E, 12,504 words, complete. Flint uses submission as catharsis amidst his grief and pain over Miranda, but Silver accidentally reminds him of past history, which he then has to confront. They work through it, because Silver really has to do everything on this ship, including being his captain's therapist. Also Flint gets fucked with his pistol. Just by the way. This is the one prompter hated! Go see for yourself if it is, in fact, Too Awful For Kinkmeme XD.

long as amber of ember glows - Silverflint, E, 7,933 words, complete. If 3.10 ended the way it should have. There are love confessions, and they fuck on the gold. No literally, on it. It's very sweet honestly.

Our Feast is But Beginning - Series. Silverflint Cookingverse! Flint teaches Silver to cook.

Spit-Roasted - M, 5,821 words, complete. The one where Flint shows Silver how to roast a pig. It's canon! Flint is very weird about sex.

Gentille Alouette - E, 11,618 words, complete. Late night cooking dates on the Walrus, continuing intense sexual tension, Flint is basically edging himself. He sure is a way.

Princes of the New World - E, 38,145 words, complete. This one got a little out of hand, it has many things in it, including lots of hurt comfort and caretaking, the guys finally getting together and also not hiding their relationship, some intense gender vibes (Silver gets to be a pampered pretty princess) and yes, even some cooking.

Our Shadows That Are Bold - Silverflint, E, 4,912 words, complete. Dom Silver. The first little iteration of fealty sub Flint, he sure has some feelings about Silver coming into his own as king.

So We Begin - Silverflint, E, 4,038 words, complete. 3.7 missing scene fic that is exactly what you would expect after stomp stomp and the "how good it feels" conversation.

The Soft Animal of Your Body - Silverflint, E, 3,398 words, complete. The watersports one. Yep sure is, omorashi style, with a good side of hurt comfort stuff and also Flint telling a weird dirty story. Set during warship recovery time. This is basically an outtake of longfic because it doesn't quite work there but wouldn't leave my brain.

the sound that you found for me - T, background silverflintmadi, but its really about Silver and Betsy the cat. Yep. 5,699 words, complete. Kittenfic!! Written for the Beach Blanket Black Sails Ficfest, the prompt was 'Betsy has kittens and Silver wants to keep them on Maroon Island.' It's really about Silver and trauma and there are sad parts but nothing bad happens to any cats and there is a happy ending.

stitched with its color - G, silverflintmadi sort of, 1,344 words, complete. The conversation where Madi tells Flint that Silver is alive.

Such Terrible Hungers - E, Flintvane, 3,357 words, complete. Instead of fuck buddies, they're fuck enemies. Fight sex and Flint angst, that's basically the fic.

to pull me from myself again - E, Silverflint, 7,419 words, complete. Written in response to a Tumblr prompt asking for s1 dynamics softe silverflint, Silver's first time with a man. That is indeed it, that's the fic

What Lies Beneath - E, Silverflint, 3 chapters, complete. 11,031 words. Demon Flint AU! Basically make the demon in Flint literal. Silver is fascinated of course.

The Fetch Phillips Archives (aka Luke Arnold's books, go read them!)

announcing your place in the family of things - E, Fetch/Satyr, 6,865 words, complete. The first creature Fetch meets when he leaves the human city is that unnamed Satyr, and that feels like a conscious choice to me. Coulda said 'faun' and we wouldn't be here Luke. Anyway monsterfucking, but in a lovely way.

The Exorcist (tv)

The Smoke of Their Torment - M, Marcus/Tomas, 572 words, complete. A snippet of Marcus angst and pining and also jerking off in a shared hotel room there may be more someday.

The X-Files

The current think I'm (re)weird about is Mulder and Krycek. Yes, I know everyone else got over it in the early 2000's. But NOT ME apparently. Here, have a playlist (it's really for the Chechnya fic but it generalizes)

Whatever You Can Still Betray - E, Mulder/Krycek, Chapter 2/? posted. Set in vague early season five, sometime between Redux and Patient X. Mulder chases a case across the world to a secret Russian facility in Chechnya, and right into the hands of Alex Krycek. Krycek has problems of his own, but believes his interests and Mulder's might be aligned. When disaster strikes, they have to rely on each other to survive.

like the western front - Series. Mulder/Krycek skipping the holidays, a temporary truce that gets to be more complicated.

as common as it is unkind - E, 12,570 words, complete. Set after The Red and the Black. Thinking Mulder is out of town, Krycek breaks into his apartment on Christmas in search of information. Mulder is not, in fact, out of town.

just glad to get to be around - E, 12,226 words, 3/4 chapters posted. Krycek doesn't really think Mulder is going to accept his invitation for New Year's Eve. Mulder does, but things go sideways, and they end up having to do Russian New Year's together at a fancy villain party under duress. Cocaine, caviar and fucking in the men's room.

#for a long time i kept whatever was most recent or relevant pinned #but now i realized how much there is #so #here's the masterlist #fanfic #my writing #silverflint #black sails #fetch phillip archives #sunderverse #the exorcist tv #the x files

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anonymousewrites · 5 months ago

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Pearl of the Sea Chapter Seventeen

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Seventeen: Sacrificing for Escape

Summary: Jack returns to the Pearl to fight against the Kraken.

“You—You came back,” said (Y/N), getting to their feet.

Jack walked down the stairs and faced them. “I did.”

(Y/N) hugged him. Jack froze and looked down at them. Then, hesitating as if they would retreat, Jack returned the hug.

“Thank you,” whispered (Y/N).

“Maybe you weren’t so wrong about me,” said Jack, smiling slightly. The words teased (Y/N), but they were for him. They were to say that he was someone who deserved to have (Y/N)’s faith, their trust. He couldn’t, he refused, to lose that.

“I guess not,” said (Y/N). They stepped back.

“Did we kill it?” said Marty, the first pirate to address the kraken issue again. He peered over the side of the Pearl.

“No,” said Gibbs grimly. “We just made it angry. We’re not out of this yet.” He turned to look at Jack. “Captain, orders.”

(Y/N) suspected only they and perhaps Elizabeth and Will had noticed his near-abandonment. All the remaining pirates rushed out to face Jack. (Y/N) frowned. A bare handful had made it out alive. It was Ragetti, Pintel, Cotton, Gibbs, and Marty left of the pirates. Well, (Y/N), Elizabeth, and Will were definitely pirates now, too.

“Abandon ship,” said Jack. “Into the longboat.” The boat he had nearly left them with would now be their escape.

“Jack. The Pearl,” said Gibbs incredulously.

“She’s only a ship, mate,” said Jack sadly. He had more important people to get to safety. He guided (Y/N) to the side of the ship.

“He’s right. We have to head for land,” said Elizabeth.

“It’s a lot of open water,” said Pintel.

“It’s a lot of water,” said Ragetti nervously.

“We have to try,” said Will. “We can get away as it takes down the Pearl.”

“It’s our only chance,” said (Y/N). They touched the rail of the Black Pearl, a silent apology to the ship that had carried them so far.

Gibbs had to nod. He could see it was the only option. “Abandon ship.”

Jack squeezed (Y/N)’s shoulder and pushed them towards the ladder. “Go, laddie.”

(Y/N) nodded and climbed down. Pintel, Ragetti, Marty, Cotton, and Gibbs went down next. Will clambered down after.

Jack paused to look around at the Black Pearl, the ship he’d sacrificed so much for, the ship he loved. The ship he was abandoning. Elizabeth lagged behind the others and looked at him.

“Thank you, Jack,” she said.

“We’re not free yet,” said Jack.

“You came back,” said Elizabeth. She stepped forward. “I always knew you were a good man.” She leaned forward and kissed him. She pushed him back to the past, ensuring he was distracted.

Click

She tightened the handcuffs. Jack leaned away and moved his wrist. It was tightly connected to the mast. He was trapped. He looked at Elizabeth, who gazed back at him.

“It’s after you, not the ship,” said Elizabeth. “It’s not us. This is the only way, you see?” She swallowed. “I’m not sorry. I’m protecting the crew. I’m protecting Will.” She looked directly into Jack’s eyes. “I’m protecting (Y/N).”

That barb hurt, and Jack swallowed as his heart ached. Still, he met Elizabeth’s eyes evenly. He understood what she was doing, though his own death caused him fear. “Pirate,” he said, equal parts derision and understanding.

Elizabeth searched his gaze as the truth of her action settled in. She swallowed and turned away. She couldn’t keep looking at Jack. She had condemned him to death.

But she had done it to protect her family.

Elizabeth climbed down into the longboat and refused to feel guilty.

“Where’s Jack?” asked (Y/N).

“He elected to stay behind to give us a chance,” said Elizabeth, not looking them in the eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on the sea.

“What?” breathed (Y/N), eyes widening. They tried to stand. “No! We can’t leave him—”

Elizabeth pulled (Y/N) back down and held them close. She looked at Pintel and Ragetti. “Go,” she ordered.

Marty pushed them from the ship, and the pair began rowing. (Y/N) pushed against Elizabeth.

“Why—Why is he doing that?” said (Y/N), throat constricting.

“Because…it’s the right thing,” said Elizabeth. That was why she was doing it.

(Y/N) watched helplessly from the rowboat as the kraken rose out of the water. Its head rose above the Pearl, and its roar reverberated through the air. Jack stood facing it beside the mast, and (Y/N)’s heart clenched.

“Jack!” they shouted.

The Black Pearl cracked in half, and the maw of the kraken smashed down around Jack. Tentacles reached up and curled around the masts of the sails. They cracked and fell. The Pearl snapped and crunched into two pieces. Underneath the power of the kraken, the Black Pearl capsized. It and Jack’s soul were dragged beneath the waves, deep down to Davy Jones’s Locker.

And as the final mast disappeared into the sea, (Y/N) felt their own heart crack. Jack had become family. They loved him. He had given them freedom and come back to help them, cared and watched out for them just as Will and Elizabeth always had.

And he was gone.

(Y/N) let out a sob, and even as Will and Elizabeth held them tight, their sorrow wouldn’t be calmed. The ocean rippled with waves, matching the ebb and flow of their cries.

“Jack Sparrow, our debt is settled,” said Jones, snapping his spyglass closed. “The captain goes down with his ship.”

“Turns out not even Jack Sparrow can best the devil,” said his first mate.

Jones gazed out over the sea at the empty spot the Pearl used to take up. It had taken longer than usual to destroy his enemies. The kraken had been hurt by the explosions, the cannons.

The water.

Jones gritted his teeth. He had seen from his ship that the very ocean turned on the kraken, and memories of the one being he despised more than any other had returned to him. However, she hadn’t been there. No, a teenager just as comfortable with the ocean was present.

And Jones knew that he despised whatever they were. But he had won. He had destroyed Jack and the Black Pearl.

He turned away to face his first mate. “Open the chest.” The crew stared, afraid to touch the chest. “Open the chest! I need to see it!” Jones stormed to the chest and turned the key, still stuck in the keyhole. He opened it.

Empty.

“Damn you, Jack Sparrow!”

Beckett’s brow furrowed.

“The last of our ships has returned,” reported Mercer.

“Is there any news on the chest?” said Beckett.

“None. But one of the ships did pick up a man adrift at sea,” said Mercer. He lifted a familiar bundle of letters. “He had these.”

Beckett picked the up letters.

“I took the liberty of filling in my name.” Norrington stepped into the room.

Beckett waved a hand, and Norrington approached.

“If you intend to claim these, then you must have something to trade,” drawled Beckett. “Do you have the compass?”

“Better,” said Norrington. He dropped a sack on the desk.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Beckett’s eyes widened as he leaned forward to hear the heartbeat.

“The heart of Davy Jones,” said Norrington.

Beckett smiled, and the expression was as sinister as they came. “The seas are mine.” He smirked. “Davy Jones’s power of the seas will bend to me, and no one will be able to challenge me.”

Norrington’s gaze flicked down. “Except for the pirates.”

Beckett scoffed and leaned back in his chair. “My ships will be more than a match for a couple of pirates.” He picked up the bag. “And in a world of civilization, I have the only bit of magic—” he scoffed derisively “—tamed.”

Norrington hesitated. Beckett’s gaze flicked to him, easily reading him. Beckett knew how to use every minute reaction of a man to his advantage, and he would do so here. Norrington wanted his honor back, and Beckett could provide him with it and more, but he would have him under his thumb as well.

“Is there something you wish to report, Commodore?” Beckett nearly smirked at how easy it was to use Norrington. He straightened as his old title, his mark of honor and service to the crown. He was like a dog looking for praise from his master. Beckett would take up that mantel with satisfaction.

“There was a strange incident with the sea. It—” Norrington straightened “—appeared to be magic.”

Beckett’s gaze darkened. “What?” He couldn’t have anyone other than him controlling the oceans. They were the key to the world, and now he held it. “What do you mean, magic?”

“A pirate seemed to manipulate water,” said Norrington.

“Who?” snapped Beckett. No one else could have the power of the sea. He tamed Davy Jones. He would tame anyone else.

Norrington suddenly felt the anger in Beckett’s voice, and he hesitated. He shouldn’t put (Y/N) in danger.

Beckett stood from behind his deck, fists holding the edge tightly. “Who, Admiral Norrington?” The new title would be an easy lure.

“…(Y/N) Swann.”

Beckett let go of his desk, composed now that he had the information. Inside, though, he remained on edge. He needed to maintain his control over people, the sea, the world.

“Mr. Mercer,” said Beckett.

“Lord Beckett,” said Mercer.

“It seems we have someone to watch out for.” Beckett strolled to him and spoke quietly. “I want that child handled.”

“In what way, sir?” said Mercer. He had no scruples about whatever orders Beckett gave him.

“Controlled or killed,” said Beckett.

(Y/N) sat at the front of the rowboat as it drifted through the forest of Tia Dalma’s domain. She had sensed their approach, and villagers from the surrounding town stood with candles in vigil. They hummed a low, solemn tune. Jack’s sacrifice was honored. (Y/N) swallowed and closed their eyes. Their hands drifted through the water, and they felt the warmth of the candles. They sensed the energy of the waters, and it rippled beneath their touch. (Y/N) felt the same ripples of grief still pulsing through them at Jack’s loss.

The boat arrived at Tia Dalma’s hut, and the remaining Pearl crew went inside. It was the only safe port for them. They sat listlessly, unsure what to do with themselves. (Y/N) sat by the stairs and stared at the water.

Tia Dalma walked through the group and offered each a drink. They all felt listless. Her eyes went to (Y/N). She could feel a shift in the energy around them. The energy that had been trapped inside was filtering out. The wildness was rearing its head, and Jack’s death had only caused it to grow.

Tia Dalma’s eyes softened as she approached (Y/N). “I’m sorry, my dear.” She handed them a drink.

(Y/N)’s gaze flicked up to meet hers before returning to the river.

“The world already seems a bit less bright,” said Gibbs. “He fooled us right until the end, but I guess that honest streak finally won out.”

(Y/N)’s heart clenched. Jack had come back for them and paid the price.

“To Jack Sparrow,” said Gibbs.

“Nevet another like Captain Jack,” said Ragetti.

“He was a gentleman of fortune, he was,” said Pintel.

“He was a good man,” said Elizabeth, swallowing.

They all raised their glasses and took a long drink.

“If there was anything we could do to bring him back…” (Y/N) held the glass tightly.

“Would you do anything? Truly?” said Tia Dalma.

(Y/N) looked at her, and the storm of emotions in their gaze was stronger than ever. “Yes.”

“You would sail to the ends of the Earth and beyond to fetch back witty Jack and him precious Pearl?” said Tia Dalma.

“I would,” said (Y/N).

A beat.

“Aye,” agreed Gibbs.

“Aye,” said Pintel.

“Aye.” Ragetti.

“Aye.” Cotton’s parrot.

“Aye.” Marty.

“Aye.” Will.

All eyes went to Elizabeth.

She nodded, teary eyed. “Yes.”

Tia Dalma looked at (Y/N) once more. “Alright. But if you go and brave the weird and haunted shores at world’s end…then you will need a captain who knows those waters.” She turned to the stairs to the second floor and whistled.

Footsteps sounded as a new figure walked down.

“So, tell me, what’s become of my ship?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Barbossa grinned.

Taglist:

@slytherinroyalty16

@aew-kun-age-regression

@grippleback-galaxy

@andsoigotabutterfly

@insomniacneedssleep

@painstakingly-juno

@kitkatlover015

@chronicallybubbly

@froggyisfriend

@elliottheidiot2007

@paastaboi

@urlocalsabito

@speckle-meow-meow

@dmitrytherat

@vanessa-boo

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

@snowy-violet

@ceridwyn3

@heil-nah

@idonthaveanameforthisacc

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my-head-is-an-animal · 1 year ago

Text

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 13

I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my body, even with the mask. The air pressure gun had recharged and I was able to aim it at the ship, swinging myself back against it and take a moment to calm down.

It was so quiet, the Earth from this high up was almost peaceful and I was using it to focus, but if I had another set back like that, I would never make it to my destination.

The sky was starting to get darker as night was falling in, the eight hours was nearly up. Lennox would have no choice but to assume I didn’t make it. It didn’t matter. I looked up to see the previous five thousand feet I had left to climb had just become eight.

‘You can do this, you’ve done this bit before, it’ll be a breeze now.’ The echo of Lennox’s words from the climbing wall on that first day, it was the only thing telling me that everything might have been okay.

‘I have to do this.’ I said.

‘Yes, you do.’

I turned to see Lennox strapped into his climbing gear, the same way he was on the wall, he smiled at me.

‘You wanna quit? There’s no shame in not making it.’ He said.

I felt a surge of anger rise in my chest. ‘No.’ I told him, pulling out another syringe and jabbing my leg.

I climbed hard, I wasn’t going to quit now, I was closer than I was at the start, no one thought I could do this, but they would always be wrong and all I ever had to do was prove it. I pulled the gun out and shot straight upwards, pulling myself up the next sixty feet. I couldn’t stop.

---

The eight hours was up, and Lennox could barely lift his gun anymore. He looked over at Epps who was the same. No one else was coming to save them and it looked like Harding had failed.

‘Bee!’ He shouted, Bumblebee was being repaired by Ratchet who was struggling to keep up. ‘Can you see her? She should be at least twenty eight thousand feet up by now!’

Bumblebee looked up at the ship, his eyes searching. He looked down at Lennox and shook his head.

Lennox nodded, again looking over at Epps. ‘We did our best.’ He said, Epps deflating in disappointment. They failed. ‘Optimus!’ Lennox managed to get to his feet, the great Autobot turned to him, firing off rockets and slicing through the creatures where he could. ‘I’m calling it. It’s been over eight hours and no one can see her. Harding failed.’

Optimus looked down at him surprised. ‘You are leaving?’

‘I have to call in everything we have to try and take that ship down.’ Lennox reasoned with him. ‘If she hasn’t made it by now, she probably won’t.’

Optimus kneeled down and gave him a firm look. ‘Dr Harding believed the climb was possible, she has given everything to saving your planet. And you made a promise.’ He pointed at Lennox. ‘Her prediction of eight hours was always harboured by the lack of knowledge about what she would encounter.’

‘That’s my point!’ Lennox shot back. ‘If she has run into the enemy up there, there is every chance she has been killed on sight.’ He watched the usually stoic Autobot’s eyes widen. ‘I’m sorry, I know you put a lot of faith in her, but we need to look at the bigger picture here.’

Optimus looked up at the ship. ‘I believe she is still making the climb.’ He said.

‘You can’t know that.’

‘You cannot know she has failed.’ Optimus countered. ‘I will continue on until I know for certain either way.’

He didn’t wait for a response from Lennox, he just stood up and ran into battle once again.

Lennox let a breath go and looked over at Epps.

‘He’s right, you know.’ Epps called over. ‘She might be inside that ship right now, we have to give her more time.’

Lennox let his eyes close, he was so tired. It was nothing compared to what Harding had to endure, but it was still agony to continue on.

---

I could see the opening, it was only another twenty feet, but I couldn’t take the long strides I had been taking. My legs just couldn’t push me up like that anymore. I was shaking and even deeper breaths couldn’t steady my hands anymore.

I pulled out my fourth syringe filled with adrenaline, I hadn’t wanted to use it, but I was so close, and every sacrifice was for the safety of the planet. It was worth it.

It was enough to get me up to the opening and pull myself inside the ship.

I could see what looked like a mechanical beehive, it was like a factory, pumps, pipes, caverns and steam surrounded me. More of those creatures were being made, probably quicker than they could be destroyed on the ground. It only made me realise that Optimus and Lennox were in a losing fight no matter what. They could have fallen already.

I searched around the immediate area, resting against the cool metal of the cavern that led into the open area of the lower part of the ship, and deciding that any energy used needed to be sure. I just didn’t have anything left to waste.

I managed to pull myself across the floor just enough to see a corridor. The creatures didn’t seem to notice me, or if they did, they didn’t think I posed much of a threat. They were probably right.

Something occurred to me quite suddenly. These were hive creatures. They had one leader and one mind, it meant I needed to be careful. I couldn’t pose even the slightest bit of a threat, otherwise it would have been a wasted trip.

It was closing in on ten hours, I wondered why Lennox hadn’t called in for a full frontal attack by now. Of course, there was every chance I was the last one standing, and standing was a kind way of putting it. Crawling across the floor of an alien ship just because my body wouldn’t allow for anything else, was the reality of the situation.

Finally, I found what I was looking for. It was a station close to the massive door where hundreds of wasp creatures were being deployed, it also linked up to the ship’s harvesting capabilities. If I could blow that, the ship would be rendered incapable of destroying planet Earth, but able to fly away. It looked exactly the way Ironhide and Optimus had described it.

The only problem was it was in an awkward place that meant I would have to leave via the same doors the wasps were flying out of. There was no way I would be able to climb back up the caverns again. The only way was down.

---

For the first time in his life, Optimus wasn’t sure whether he could continue the fight. He was exhausted, some of his Autobots had fallen and the humans were right, it had been over eleven hours that Jane had been climbing. No human could survive such a test. It was too much to ask one person.

He fell to his knee, taking a moment to rest while Ironhide protected his position, giving him the breather he needed.

The problem with his doubts about Jane’s survival was that everything he had seen of her, everything he desired and everything that told him she was the one worth devoting his life to, told him she would save the world no matter the cost. But by the same logic, it angered him to no end to think the last time he saw her, was the last time he would ever see her.

Even just the temptation of thinking that he would never see her again, forced him to his feet and back into battle. He made a promise.

---

The dynamite was in place. I needed a minute to breathe, the oxygen mask was still attached to my face, but it didn’t feel like enough.

I unravelled the coil, attaching it to my belt and prayed it didn’t come loose. I did everything I could to make sure I didn’t have to go back, but even through my exhaustion, I knew it wasn’t perfect.

I managed to get down towards the doors beneath, the creatures were still flying out and probably taking over the earth. I knew it had been nearly twelve hours after I began the climb and I was certain I wouldn’t make it home, but at least every one else would be safe.

There was only one syringe left and my chest was already aching, I wasn’t sure if I could take another shot, but I needed it to complete the mission and steady my hands just enough to light the match and blow the console.

I found a small space where the wind wasn’t as harsh and pulled out the box of matches and some scissors. The coil was cut. I took a moment to breathe and jag my leg with the last adrenaline shot I had.

It was so painful, my joints were like glass and my muscles felt like they’d faded away, but the familiar burn of the chemical surging through me was the only thing making me continue on regardless.

I lit the match, the only real light in the dark of the ship, and the coil began burning. The creatures still hadn’t noticed me, and I counted myself lucky, but suddenly my chest was in agony, like my heart was about to burst. The flame had almost reached the dynamite and I needed to leave.

The last of my energy was devoted to rolling off the ledge and plunging towards a darkened Earth. It was over. My mission was complete and there was nothing more to be done, except fall into blackness.

‘Rest now, Dr Harding.’ Optimus’s voice rang out in my mind, and I felt all will and determination leave me. My eyes closed and the only thing I saw was the bright blue eyes of the Autobot I fell in love with.

---

An explosion. The wasp creatures stopped on the battlefield, all of their attention turning to the ship. It was like a chain reaction being set off, one explosion led to another and to another.

‘Harding did it.’ Lennox whispered. ‘Harding did it!’ He yelled, the soldiers and Autobots around him cheering as the creature began a full retreat.

Optimus was the only one not cheering. His attention was firmly in the sky, trying to locate Harding.

‘There.’ He said, directing everyone’s attention to the bulk of where the wasps were flying towards. ‘She must have had no choice by to exit on the other side.’

Lennox and his men all raised their binoculars, finding Harding in their sights. ‘Something’s wrong.’ He said, watching her body rotate and flay about aimlessly. ‘Oh my God.’ He said, quietly to himself.

‘What?’ Optimus asked, worriedly.

‘I don’t think she’s conscious.’ He shook his head. ‘She can’t pull her chute.’

Optimus turned back to see her body still falling. There was no choice. He ran back towards his gear, strapping his flight tech on his back.

‘Optimus, you cannot reach her in your state.’ Ratchet tried to stop him.

‘I made a promise.’ He growled again. ‘If it costs my life, then so be it.’

Optimus didn’t wait for anyone else to try and argue. He took flight, feeling his own body’s weight much more clearly than before. The only thing on his mind was to get to Jane’s body before she hit the ground.

He swung his sword around him, catching the occasional straggling creature, they were zooming past Jane, trying to get back to their ship which was now beginning to take flight once again.

The ship exploded again close to the bottom and a pulse emitted from it, nothing harmful to him and the creatures were still racing back towards it, but it did knock him off course. He lost Jane for a moment, before looking down to see her heading straight towards the ground.

Optimus turned around and flew as fast as he could towards her.

He reached out as he got closer, curling his hand around her fragile frame and bringing her close to his chest, she wasn’t moving.

Optimus landed hard on the ground, damaging his knee once again as he fell against a building that was almost entirely decimated. Ironhide carried Lennox, Epps and some human medical personnel towards his position. The damage stopped him from standing, but he could gently place Jane on the ground for the doctors to attend to her.

Lennox stood over them as Ratchet made it over to Optimus, beginning work on his knee immediately.

Optimus watched as her equipment was stripped off, her pale face just about visible, but she still wasn’t moving.

The doctors pulled out a machine, unzipping her jacket to get at her chest, they cleared the area and Lennox just stepped back, his hands going to his head as he began to realise what might have happened.

Optimus looked to Ratchet for an answer.

‘It’s a machine humans use to restart their hearts. A defibrillator.’ He said, quietly.

‘Her heart?’ Optimus was confused.

‘I’m sorry, old friend.’ Ironhide came around to comfort his friend.

Optimus’s mind wouldn’t allow him to fully understand what was happening to Jane, but at some point, the doctors stopped. Jane still hadn’t moved.

‘What are you doing?’ He asked. ‘You must restart her heart.’

‘Optimus.’ Lennox stepped forward to calm the Autobot leader. ‘She’s gone. I’m sorry.’

Optimus looked around him, searching for a different answer, but no one was providing it for him. He looked down at her body, her fragile, soft body and edged towards it. She made a promise to survive, to fight for tomorrow, she would want to keep it if she could.

‘No.’ Optimus whispered. ‘She isn’t.’

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