#also i thought the new event was going to be voiced since its a main patch event but ig not ;w;;

[baeshijima]

MR RECA SPOTTED IN THE WILD (march 7ths room)

(+ spotted in the wild in the new event... the details of his clothes + design.... the film tape designed belt/straps go so hard btw i love it sm.... why is he so gorgeous.... playable when.... i will throw everything i have left after sundays banner at u.... pls.... ourhgg)

also him in the event lc....

sob sob...

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 1

Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).

So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.

I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.

Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.

Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.

****

Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:

PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL

Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.

There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.

Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.

“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.

Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.

He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.

He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.

There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.

And Steve hoped it was a good day.

****

Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.

Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.

Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.

He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.

He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.

“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”

A couple of kids snickered.

“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.

Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.

“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”

“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.

The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”

“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”

The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”

He nodded.

“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.

When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”

Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”

Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”

“323B.”

“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”

Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”

Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”

This time it was Harrington who winced.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.

“Shit.”

Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”

Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.

“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.

Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.

“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”

“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”

Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.

“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”

“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.

Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.

Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.

“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”

He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”

Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”

And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.

And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.

****

Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.

Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.

Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.

He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.

So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.

He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.

Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.

He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.

Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!

Now that was an idea.

He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.

A smile spread over his face.

That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.

He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.

Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.

He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.

****

Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.

He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.

They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.

The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.

And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.

Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.

But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.

To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?

Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.

But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.

He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.

He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.

“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.

“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”

“What did you do?”

So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”

“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”

Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.

“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.

Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.

It would just have to wait until Monday.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

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[barrenclan]

you dont have to publish this ask if you don't want to. but i just wanted to say that im not sure how i really feel about ranger becoming disabled and how it could kinda be read as for audience catharsis. youre a good writer and i dont want to interpret your writing in bad faith, and obviously i dont know your full intent behind the choice to blind ranger. but a lot of the audience reaction in the replies and such made me a bit uncomfortable as a visually impaired disabled person myself. disability as a punishment for evil is a pretty common (and ableist) trope. i dont think you really did it to the extent its done in other media (especially with a character like daffodilpaw as a good guy. like death, disability affects everyone, good and bad) but yeah the audience reaction made me a little uncomfortable that they were viewing it as deserved or cathartic or punishing. it especially didnt sit very well with me when paired up with hacksaw, his partner and another very evil character having lost a chunk of her wing just before. like i said at the start you dont have to publish this ask if you dont want to. i dont know how the story is going to go, and pinepaws injury could very well impact him in the future for example. but i figured i should voice my current in-the-moment discomfort, especially if it helps you in your future writing endeavors. otherwise, i really liked the new issue!

Since this was asked about twice I will go ahead and publish it; and say that firstly, I really appreciate you both bringing up your concerns and going about it in a very polite way. I don't want anyone to feel afraid to bring things up about the story or put me on a pedestal, I'm not a perfect person just because you like my stories.

And in terms of your asks themselves - I honestly do apologize that it came off that way, I didn't intend at all to play into the trope of disability as a karmic punishment for evil. I'm not disabled myself, or at least not in the visual or mobile way, so it is likely just an actual blindspot for me in terms of my writing. Disability is absolutely not a punishment for anything, and if you're blind or missing a limb there is nothing wrong with you at all.

If knowing my thought process helps at all, here's how I came to that story decision:

I want Ranger and Hacksaw to try to attack Pinepaw but both have their arrogance that's been building for the whole story checked. Also, it needs to be in some way that actually hinders them so they don't just keep attacking. -> Well, I don't want them to die, because I have things I want to do with their characters after the event ends. So, what would be an interesting and symbolic injury that takes them off the table? -> Hacksaw's main source of attacking other people is by divebombing them, so losing a wing would really impact her sense of strength. And, Ranger relies on outward control so much that losing his sight would damage a lot of his ego as well. There are some things about the characters I can't talk about just yet which, depending on your opinions, might change how you feel, but those were my general ideas.

I completely didn't realize how easy it to fall into that trope and I'm very sorry that it made you uncomfortable, that was very much not my intention. Like you said it's so normalized in media that most people don't even think about it - and certainly something I'll be more aware of next time I write anything like this.

[xoxoavenger]

I'd Curse You for the Longest Time

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss/I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs/The smell of smoke would hang around this long/'Cause I knew everything when I was young/I knew I'd curse you for the longest time/Chasin' shadows in the grocery line/I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired/And you'd be standin' in my front porch light

word count: 1414

warnings: non-descript fight

cardigan masterlist main masterlist

After her bout of sickness, she acted like everything was okay. She didn't talk about the events that had occurred, and definitely never talked abut JJ. Everyone understood this without having to talk, so they also followed the rule of never talking to Y/N about JJ. They knew she had blocked him after the first text he had tried to send her, and the only good part about Y/N acting like JJ didn't exist was that they only had to hear JJ whine about the situation.

Everything was fine until it was JJ's birthday. Y/N was acting like it was a normal day, getting ready and going to work without saying a word. They all thought she was fine, and they all refused to tell JJ about it. He would ask about her every time he called, and they would just change the subject. It would just make it worse if he knew that she had moved on. But she hadn't.

She was never not thinking of JJ. Even in her dreams she was thinking of him. She slept in his old room at the Chateau - their old room. Everything reminds her of him. And it hurts. It makes her want to cry all day, but she doesn't want to show that to the pogues. She is constantly in pain, and no one noticed.

Well, no one noticed until JJ's birthday.

"This is a pre-paid call from an inmate at the Charleston County correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline this call press nine or hang up now. To accept this call press one now."

John B wasn't exactly sure who would be calling him, since JJ was in Australia, but he accepts the call anyway. No one is at the Chateau except him, since he had to work. But he knows they're all pregaming, well, just smoking, at Sarah's before the party they were supposed to throw tonight. 

"John B?" Y/N's shaky voice comes through the phone, and his eyes widen.

"Y/N?" He's shocked, because of everyone that could have called he would have never guessed it would have been her.

"Please come get me." She mutters, and he can tell she's upset. He's never been more confused in his life.

"What happened?" He asks, going to grab his keys and leaving already.

"Just come get me." He can tell its bad, and it's late enough that there isn't any ferries. He takes the HMS Pouge, parking it at the dock and rushing to the jail in the hopes that he doesn't get a ticket this late at night.

"I'm here to pick up Y/N L/N." He tells the front desk. When Y/N walks up, she has a black eye and a split lip. She has blood drops on her dress, and her wrists are rubbed raw from the cuffs that were clearly tight around her hands. "What the fuck?" He says under his breath.

Y/N has never been violent. In the time that John B has known her, she's never lashed out. But he can see her bruised knuckles.

"You've completed all your paperwork, so you're free to go." The bored woman at the front desk says, but Y/N ignores her and grabs John B to walk out.

"What the fuck did you do?" He asks when they're out and walking to the boat.

"Did you know JJ is in a fucking magazine?" Y/N asks, walking to the nearby news stand and grabbing one of the top papers. She shows John B, who stops walking to look at the paper under the street light.

It's JJ, alright, surfing in the sunlight. Tanned skin, white smile, abs on show. John B is jealous of his best friend and happy for him at the same time, but he looks up and sees the tears in Y/N's eyes.

"How did you get arrested?" He asks as they start walking to the boat again.

"I was at a bar after work, because, ya know, today. This touron, she said she had seen JJ when she went to Australia with her family. She hadn't known he 'famous', apparently. That's what she said. And then she said that she got a drink with him and then they were at his place," Y/N cuts off, a tear falling down her cheek. "I couldn't take it. She was lying, JB. I know she was. I called her out on it, but she wouldn't budge. Said I was jealous. I couldn't tell her about us, I knew she wouldn't believe me." She wipes some of her tears as they get on the boat, John B helping her on.

"So you hit her?" He was honestly shocked that Y/N had thrown the first punch; it just didn't sound like her at all.

"I know." Y/N said as if she could read his mind. "I was just so mad. She was lying about him. And I thought, if she's already started, who knows how many people are talking about him like that." She shakes her head as John B starts the boat. They ride back in silence, the engine of the boat loud enough to cover both of their thoughts. When they make it to the Chateau, cars line the grass. John B knows that they were all supposed to party tonight, but he's not sure if that will be happening anymore.

"I won't tell them." John B says as he ties the boat up and helps her out. She nods gratefully.

"They'll know I got into a fight." She mutters, looking down at the cuff marks on her wrists.

"They don't need to know you got arrested. Just go in and go to bed. I'll deal with them." Y/N launches herself at him, catching him off guard as she hugs him close.

"Thanks," She whispers, voice tight with emotion.

"Of course." He says back softly, holding her tightly. They stay like that for awhile, both of them needing the comfort. John B would never admit it, but JJ leaving had effected him too. He can't imagine how it would have been if JJ wouldn't have told him about it until right before he left.

Y/N walks into the house with her head down, trying to get her hair to cover her face. She's grateful for the fact that theres not much light in the Chateau, so the only thing anyone can see is her speeding to the room. John B follows her in, three pairs of eyes snapping to him. He doesn't know what to say, so he goes to the kitchen to grab a beer.

"What is going on?" Sarah asks, hand finding John B's shoulder. He shakes his head, downing half the beer in one go.

"She had bruises on her face! What was that?" Kiara asks, pushing her way in. Alright, so maybe it wasn't dark enough in the room.

"She got in a fight." John B supplies, not sure how much Y/N wants them to know. "She asked me to pick her up. It's fine." He knows they don't believe him, but he's not going to tell them the full story.

"We need to talk to JJ." Pope says, and John B knows he's right.

"We should have told him before this happened." John B knows that if he told JJ about how Y/N has been acting like she's fine instead of ignoring all his questions, maybe JJ would have come home.

"If he comes back, are we just going to act like everything's fine?" Kiara asks, causing everyone to go quiet. They have no idea if or when JJ will come back, and how that will affect Y/N.

"I already tried to call him on the way there." John B says, drinking more from his beer. "It went straight to voicemail."

"It's been a long day - let's try again tomorrow." Sarah says, rubbing his shoulder. They agree, and after a couple 'goodnights' they're all going to their beds and falling asleep.

~

It's early in the morning when Y/N gets the text. She was awake, not having slept well, so she shot up when she saw the message.

Kiara stays asleep on the pull out couch, but Pope blinks awake as Y/N opens the door. He stares at Y/N, who is just looking out with a blank expression, mouth parted. He opens his mouth to ask who is at the door, but then he hears the voice.

"Y/N,"

She slams the door in JJ's face, but doesn't move from where she's standing.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover

[thenatashamaximoff]

Heart Of Stone; Ch. 3

Summary: After decades of being HYDRA’s most prized possession, you’re finally free and find yourself under the protective eye of the Avengers. But with a piece of one of the Infinity Stones embedded into your heart, you’re never truly safe…

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, mind control, panic/anxiety attacks

Words: 22,897

✎ | დ

a/n: The add-ons are not necessary to be read to understand what's going on, but they are very subtly mentioned (the "what if" ones are not canon). You're not missing anything if you don't read them, I promise you. However, the events of the main storyline will be mentioned and will connect with this chapter. It's been a long time since we've been here. If y'all need a refresher, I recommend rereading them. Also, don't be afraid to comment! Your thoughts and opinions always motivate me to write more. ┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife @women-am-i-right @creatively-analytical @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets @iliketozoneout @olsensnpm @hoefnagel521 @chasingmaximoff @unrealskye └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell @whendarknessturns @marvel4liferz @red1culous @cd-4848 @theperfectlovestory └─────────────∞─────────────┘

2023 You took it with you when you left. And, for the longest time, it wandered lost and wounded; the heart that she misplaced. But it didn’t give up. It kept beating, albeit with a dull ache, as it searched for a place where it could belong once again. It encountered moments of despair and moments of hope, but it never stopped yearning for the one who had taken it away. Through trials and tribulations, the heart carried on, fueled by the memories of a love that had once been so strong yet so… incomplete. A love that had never gotten the chance to blossom into its full potential. The scars left by the absence of that love were etched deep within, a constant reminder of what could have been.

And, just when it had almost given up hope, destiny intervened, leading the heart on a path of an unexpected reunion, where it would finally find solace and healing in the most astonishing way.

“Do you know what a… a supernova is?” She couldn’t help but smile at your soft-spoken question, and it was extremely easy for her to turn her gaze away from the night sky to look at the side of your face. How untroubled you were in this moment, relaxed in a state of bliss that was nearly contagious. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm wash over her as she gazed at you, her healing heart beating steadily in her chest. “When a star… A star can run out of fuel, and that triggers a series of- of explosive events.” She could feel her stomach flip when your cheeks stretched against your lips as a smile formed. “It can briefly outshine an… entire galaxy.”

“Tell me more.” Her voice was lower than yours, a mere breath in the scant space between you and her, but she knew you heard her when your grin only grew wider.

“It marks the end of a- a star’s life,” you continued, “but it also creates new… elements that can be used to form new stars and… and planets.” Finally, you turned your head to meet her gaze, and she had to fight every fiber in her being to not close the little distance. “The end of something old, but… the beginning of something new. Like a… a rewritten story.”

No need for her to utter a sound, no need to fill the new quiet with meaningless words. Instead, she preferred to simply enjoy the view, to bask in the beauty of you. Your face, illuminated by the moonlight, gave you an ethereal aura. The soft light of the stars embraced you as if they were shining solely for you, creating an image of a heavenly being in her mind.

“You could be an angel.” The whispered words slipped past her lips before she even realized it, and she saw your expression change. Your features, once warm and relaxed, now creased with wrinkles of confusion. Your eyebrows knitted together, and your head tilted slightly, but a faint smile still lingered on your lips. However, the uncertainty in your eyes was unmistakable.

“But I… I don’t want to die, Wanda…” you said softly, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Her throat constricted almost as tight as her heart did when she gasped lightly at your words, a thin yet obvious layer of tears glossing over her eyes. She found herself inching toward you on the blanket, desperate to get close enough for your nose to brush across hers. “You won’t,” she declared, the bewilderment riddling your features washing away at the determination in her voice. “Nothing will happen to you. Nothing will ever hurt you.” She shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of saliva thickly. “I won’t let it, dove.” 

She leaned forward, but her movements were interrupted by the appearance of your hand in front of her face. Her eyebrows furrowed tightly together, confusion washing over her like water, yet it was all dried out when she noticed all of your fingers tucked into a fist, with your pinky standing tall and proud. “Do you… promise?”

A soft smile lifted the corners of her lips as she wrapped her pinky around yours tightly. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.” As you nodded, her eyes fluttered closed long before she pressed her lips against yours in a deep kiss that ignited a fire in her soul. She broke the hold your pinky had on hers to move her hand toward you, the tips of her fingers gently caressing your jawline in a delicate touch. The tenderness of her gesture sent a shiver down your spine as if her fingertips carried a soothing warmth that spread throughout your body. 

In that moment, it felt as if time stood still. The world faded away around her, replaced by a sense of peace and security. It was just the two of you, connected by the gentle touch of her hand and the soft, passionate pressure of your lips. And, even when you parted to catch your breath, her fingers remained, eyes locked in a hypnotic trance.

Her touch spoke volumes in the silence, conveying a depth of love and affection that words couldn’t fully capture. It was a dialect only the two of you understood, a silent conversation that transcended the boundaries of spoken language.

“I… I want to stay here. With… you. My Wanda.” Your eyes somehow sparkled brighter in the darkness, making the stars above envy your shine. The vulnerability in your voice tugged at her heart, and a gentle smile graced her mouth. She brushed the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip, featherlight yet warm all the same. “I like… the stars.” Your movement was reluctant, not wanting to turn from her touch, yet you ultimately returned your gaze to the night sky above. Wanda’s heart swelled with a mixture of adoration and longing.

She shifted closer, her body pressing against yours as if to bridge the gap between the stars and your souls. Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with an unwavering determination and tenderness, “Then let’s stay.” She wanted to feel you, to relish in the warmth a single touch brings. She brought her hand back up, tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The chills that overtook your body caused you to shiver underneath her fingertip, and she smiled softly at you when you pulled your attention away from the stars to meet her gaze. “Right here.”

Your lips pursed together, your eyes unmoving as your mind raced through words. “Aren’t you… tired?”

“No, my dove,” she answered warmly, her voice filled with affection. “I want to hear more about the stars.” As her words danced through the air, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach twist with joy. The way your eyes lit up, a radiant smile spreading across your face, was a sight that made her heart skip a beat. 

You extended your arm, a silent invitation for Wanda to move closer, and instinctively she leaned into you. But instead of resting her head against your shoulder, she nestled her ear over your chest, finding solace in the rhythmic thumping that reverberated through her being. It was as if she sought refuge in the steady cadence, the comforting song that echoed within your body. When you spoke, your voice was low and husky, “Some stars are so far away that… that their light takes thousands of years to… reach us.” The steady beat in her ear, your lulling voice in the other, she felt a profound sense of calm and tranquility. Every word that slipped from your lips was like a gentle caress to her soul, painting vivid pictures of serenity and peace. “We’re actually gazing into the past… Seeing the remnants of… the stars long gone.”

Wanda’s fingers gently intertwined with yours, deepening the connection between you and her. “Show me some constellations.”

Gently, you guided Wanda’s hand, pointing to the night sky speckled with stars. Your fingers traced invisible lines, connecting the celestial dots to form constellations. “There…” you said softly, your voice filled with a mix of enthusiasm and admiration. “That cluster is… Orion. The hunter. Do you see how the three stars in the… middle form his belt?”

Wanda’s eyes followed your guidance, her gaze fixed on the starry canvas above. She leaned in closer as if trying to capture every detail of the constellations you were unveiling. “And what about that one?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity, as her fingers traced the outline of a different group of stars.

“That’s… Ursa Major,” you replied, your voice holding a touch of wonder, “the Great Bear. The seven stars that form the… the Big Dipper- They’re part of it.”

Gradually, the tranquility of the night and the lilting beat of the drumming in your chest began to soothe Wanda into a peaceful slumber. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, but in your embrace, she found solace and safety. With a gentle sigh, her eyes slid closed, her head nestling further against you. Your heartbeat, the steady rhythm that had provided her comfort through the night, now served as a lullaby, lulling her deeper into sleep.

Your ancient tales of the stars faded to a pause when you looked down at her, a soft smile tugging your lips as you watched the rise and fall of her chest with each tranquil breath. The sky above continued to twinkle as if keeping watch over the two of you, the celestial light casting a gentle glow upon your peaceful tableau.

Carefully, you adjusted your position, ensuring Wanda was comfortable against you, as you leaned your head against the warm blanket beneath you. You gazed up at the stars that had become witnesses to your love story, and, as the night embraced you both, you surrendered to its tender embrace, knowing that tomorrow would bring new adventures, new constellations to discover, and a love that would continue to shine brightly… just like the stars above.

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Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the gentle caress of sunlight on her face. As her surroundings came into focus, she found herself sitting on the blanket, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric beneath her. A sense of disorientation washed over her as she realized the space beside her was empty.

Brows furrowed with confusion, she searched the immediate vicinity, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar presence. But all she found were the remnants of the night’s stargazing adventures, the memories still fresh in her mind.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she recalled the warmth of your embrace, the comforting thump of your heartbeat, and the whispered words that had filled the air. Had it all been a dream? The doubt lingered, tugging at her heartstrings. Questions swirled in her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. Had you left while she was lost in slumber? Was it all just a figment of her imagination, a manifestation of her longing and desire?

As she rose to her feet, determination mingled with trepidation in Wanda’s gaze. She turned her attention towards the front of the house behind her, her eyes scanning the windows in search of a glimpse of you. Her stomach twisted with anticipation, knowing that the next few moments held the answer to her unspoken question.

Leaving the blanket behind, a testament to the fleeting moments shared, Wanda made her way toward the quaint home. Each step felt like an eternity, yet she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the possibility that awaited her inside. Reaching the front door, her trembling hand grasped the doorknob. With a deep breath, she turned it and pushed it open, allowing the familiar creaking sound to fill the air. The weight of her anticipation was palpable as she stepped across the threshold, her eyes daring around the still room.

“Y/N?” Her voice was barely a whisper, catching in her throat as she called out your name. The silence that followed was deafening, echoing the emptiness that mirrored her heart. It threatened to swallow her whole, fueling the fear that she was too late, that you had slipped away. 

But then, a sound reached her ears. A clanging noise emanated from the kitchen, a hint of life amidst the stillness. Her pulse quickened, and a glimmer of hope sparkled within her. With renewed determination, she followed the sound, her steps becoming more assured with each passing moment.

Rounding the corner, her eyes fell upon you. And there you stood, amidst the chaos of bubbling pots and sizzling pans, a concentrated expression on your face - seen underneath the smudges of flour coloring your complexion - as you were oblivious to her arrival. Smoke wafted through the air from the burnt bacon that sat on the hot stove, and it was then that Wanda noticed the broken fire alarm sitting next to the sink, silent and useless.

Amusement washed over her as she took in the scene, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorway. A playful smile danced on her lips as she watched you navigate the confusion of the kitchen,  your movements an uneven blend of purpose and panic. Pots and pans clanged, ingredients were scattered haphazardly, the nose-burning smell of charred meat… There was a certain charm in the disarray.

She observed your furrowed brow and the occasional look of perplexity that flickered across your face. It was evident that this culinary endeavor was challenging, but your enthusiasm remained unwavering. She couldn’t help but be captivated by your perseverance to tackle something new, even if it resulted in a temporary state of chaos.

As you reached for a spice jar, knocking over a measuring cup in the process, Wanda couldn’t contain her laughter. The sound echoed through the kitchen, filling the room with contagious joy. The sound brought a momentary pause to your frantic activity, causing you to look up and meet her gaze. And though your eyebrows shot up in shock, it seemed as if her presence brought a sense of calm amidst the culinary storm.

An embarrassed smile tugged your lips as your arms fell to your side, looking down while she walked further into the room. “I- I wanted to… surprise you.” You rested your hands on the counter, digging your thumb nervously into your palm. Wanda’s laughter subsided, replaced by a tender expression.  “You… You cook for me all the time. I wanted to…” You huffed, shaking your head and, though she couldn’t see it, she could see the signs that your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m… I’m not very good at it. Maybe I should just… stick to peanut butter sandwiches.”

She rounded the island, placing a delicate hand over your nervous ones upon reaching you as she swiftly flicked the stove top off. “It’s not about the perfect meal, my dove. It’s about the effort and intention behind it.” You looked up at her through your lashes, and seeing the warm smile on her face caused you to relax further. “And, in my eyes… you’re already succeeding.”

Your posture straightened with newfound determination. The embarrassment that had made a home on your face washed away as a bright smile turned that frown upside down. “Will you… teach me?” The words slipped from your lips, laced with eagerness and vulnerability. Wanda’s eyes softened as she looked at the culinary disaster spread out on the counter - from the charred strips of bacon to the watery pancakes sitting on a plate - and she nodded her head in agreement.

“After we clean up,” she offered with a soft laugh, her voice gentle and reassuring. Her hand moved from yours to rest against your cheek, her touch both comforting and electrifying. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch, reveling in the affectionate connection between you. Her thumb moved in soft circles, wiping away some of the flour painting your features.

With a shared understanding, you both set aside the wreckage of your cooking attempt and began the task of cleaning up. It became a shared endeavor, a dance of laughter and gentle touches as you worked side by side, turning a chaotic kitchen into a space of order and cleanliness.

As the last dish was placed in its rightful spot, Wanda turned towards you, a playful glimmer in her eyes. “Now, let the real culinary adventure begin,” she claimed, your face lighting up with excitement.

You watched carefully as she turned the stove back on, the flame flickering to life beneath the burner. She grabbed the pan and placed it on the now-heated surface, the metal hissing with anticipation. With a graceful motion, she picked up a few strips of bacon and expertly placed them onto the skillet, the sound of the sizzle filling the kitchen.

Your eyes were fixed on her hands, marveling at the precision and confidence with which she handled the task. Each movement was deliberate as if she had done this a hundred times before. It was a simple act, cooking bacon, but the way she did it made it seem like a work of art.

As the aroma of crackling bacon filled the air, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for Wanda’s skills. She had effortlessly transformed a chaotic kitchen into a space of culinary magic, and you were grateful to be a witness to her expertise. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned against the countertop, content to watch her work her magic. The clattering of pots and pans, the occasional laughter, and the tantalizing scent of cooking filled the air, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that the pancakes had been watery or that the fire alarm had been broken. What mattered was the connection between you, the shared experience of learning and growing together. And as you watched Wanda cook, you knew that every adventure would be an opportunity to strengthen your bond and create beautiful memories. Together, you would navigate the world, supporting each other, laughing at the mishaps, and savoring the delicious results. It was a journey you were excited to embark on, hand in hand, knowing that with Wanda by your side, every day would be a celebration of love, passion, and shared experiences.

As Wanda turned off the stove and stacked the dirty dishes into the sink (once again), a realization struck you. Lost in the mesmerizing sight of her, you hadn’t paid attention to the details or learned anything from her culinary expertise. The awareness brought a sheepish smile to your face.

With an amused smirk, Wanda met your gaze, her eyes twinkling with mirth. It was as if she were reading your thoughts this very moment, knowing that you had been too captivated by her presence to absorb any practical knowledge. She took a step closer, her hands gently cradling your face. She couldn’t help it, thriving on the way your touch warms her insides.

“Why don’t you go freshen up while the food cools down?” she proposed, her voice filled with affection and a hint of playfulness. Her suggestion was accompanied by a tender gesture, her thumbs moving in delicate circles against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself getting lost in the deep emeralds of her eyes, feeling a connection that went beyond words.

You nodded in agreement, appreciating her for just a moment longer before taking the opportunity to collect yourself after the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. As you turned your head towards the kitchen door, you couldn’t resist stealing a quick glance at Wanda, admiring her in that moment. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners, the soft curves of her lips, and the gentle touch of her hands on your face - they were all reminders of the affection and tenderness you shared.

A light laugh parted her mouth after you stole a sneaky kiss before making your way out of the room.

With a couple of fixed plates in her hands and a hint of intrigue in her eyes, Wanda set aside the task of arranging the meal and walked toward the front of the house. The knock grew slightly louder, slightly more impatient, as she approached the door, filling her with curiosity. When she opened it, a soft smile formed on the Sokovian’s lips, yet the unfamiliar face didn’t sate her confusion.

“Hello, dear.” The woman beamed widely, a potted plant held carelessly in her hands. “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right.” Wanda’s soft smile strengthened at the friendly greeting. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block! My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.” She walked further into the house, plopping the housewarming gift into Wanda’s arms. “What’s your name? Where are you from? And, most importantly, what is that fantastic smell?”

“Well, I’m Wanda.”

“Wanda. Charmed.” Agnes chuckled softly as she looked around. “Golly, you settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did,” Wanda claimed, quickly nodding as she placed the plant on the table. “Those boxes certainly didn’t move themselves.” She wiped her hands across the front of her shirt, watching Agnes lean forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”

Wanda’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, her mind briefly wandering to you just upstairs. “Oh, no. I’m not single,” she replied, her voice a touch softer.

Agnes raised an eyebrow playfully, her gaze shifting to Wanda’s left hand as she sat down on the couch. “I don’t see a ring,” the neighbor pointed out.

The Sokovian cleared her throat, her cheeks growing warmer. “Well, I- I assure you I’m happily married.” She placed her hands on her hips in hopes of hiding her fingers, though she knew there was no use now. “As a matter of fact, she’s just upstairs.”

“Wands, I-” The two women turned their heads at the sound of your approach, and you froze in the middle of the stairs upon making eye contact with Agnes. Wanda was quick to move toward you, catching one of your hands before you could bother the scar marking your palm to gently tug you down the rest of the way as the unknown woman stood up respectfully. Your lips seemed to glue shut the moment you processed the guest, your hand squeezing Wanda’s fingers.

“The woman of the hour!” Agnes announced, stepping up to you. “Always in the know, that’s me. How are you, dear?” She laughed heartily, and you glanced at Wanda uneasily, who was looking at you with care and concern. Agnes’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she beamed at you with the widest smile you had ever seen on a stranger. “Aren’t you a precious little thing,” she claimed, tapping the tip of your nose in a quick and unexpected move that caught you off guard. “I could just eat you up!”

You took a small step to the side, instinctively trying to protect your nose from further attacks, and peeked over Wanda’s shoulder, hoping to find some sort of shield from Agnes’s playful teasing. “Please don’t…” you whispered, and her robust chuckle told you she heard you.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I don’t eat people.” A smirk played at the side of her lips, leaning forward slightly as she added in a low voice, “At least, not anymore.”

Feeling a surge of apprehension, your hand squeezed Wanda’s gently once more, seeking comfort and support. Sensing your need, she cleared her throat, redirecting Agnes’s attention back to her. “Y/N and I were just about to sit down for breakfast,” the Sokovian clarified, her voice steady and composed.

The neighbor’s eyes lit up with curiosity, and she nodded in understanding. “Ah, breakfast! Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt such a delicious affair! I’ll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy your meal.” She winked mischievously, her playful demeanor evident. “But remember, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. I’m just to the right.” You stayed behind Wanda as your eyes followed the retreating woman, watching her pull open the door as she turned to face the two of you. “My right, not yours!” She chuckled softly this time as she stepped out, leaving you and Wanda alone.

The witch turned to you, a gentle expression on her face. “Are you okay?” Her fingers intertwined with yours as you nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Did you want to do something today?” Wanda used her hold on you to tug you to the table, leaving you to take your own seat for a brief moment before she returned with the two plates piled with the food she had cooked moments before the interruption. 

“Can… Nat come over?” Your hopeful eyes met her bright green ones almost instantly as you picked up a fork. “I… I want her to see our… home.”

Wanda could feel her posture weaken as her shoulders sagged at your question, her bottom lip finding its way in between her teeth as you turned your attention to the food in front of you. “Oh, sweetheart…” She eyed you carefully. “She’s not in the country, you know that.” The prongs of your fork poked at the slices of toast on your plate, and she could feel the sharp tug of her heart at the sight of your frown. She reached toward you, placing her hand gently over yours to offer comfort. “I know how much you miss her,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. “I miss her, too, but she’s on a mission. We have to respect that.” Her thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, trying to ease the disappointment you felt. “How about we take a walk this afternoon?” she continued, her tone growing more cheerful.

Your eyes brightened a little, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “That… sounds nice,” you replied, your voice carrying a glimmer of enthusiasm. “Just the… two of us, right?”

Wanda’s grin matched yours as she squeezed your hand gently. “Of course,” she stated. “We can even go to that little place we went to the other day. What was it called again?” Her heart skipped a beat when your small smile grew wide, a comfortable knot forming in her stomach when you flipped your hand over to intertwine your fingers through hers. It was the source of the warmth radiating throughout her entire body.

“For… For Art’s Sake?” She couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your enthusiasm, wondering how it was possible for a human to hold more light than the sun. “I… We can go?”

“Anything for you, my dove.” She moved her hand to rest her palm against your cheek in a delicate touch, feeling just how quickly she relaxed when you leaned against her.

With renewed optimism, you picked up your fork and resumed eating, savoring each bite of the delicious meal. As you enjoyed the breakfast together, the anticipation of exploring the neighborhood filled the air, creating a sense of excitement and possibility. In that moment, you knew that no matter what the day had in store, being with Wanda was all you needed to make it special.

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As the afternoon sun painted the neighborhood in golden hues, you and Wanda embarked on a leisurely stroll down the charming streets, reveling in the beauty of your new surroundings. Towering trees line the sidewalks, their branches swaying softly in the breeze. The houses, adorned with charming facades and well-tended gardens, exuded a sense of warmth and tranquility.

A symphony of colors greets your eyes as vibrant flowers bloom in every yard, splashing the landscape with nature’s artwork. Roses in various shades whispered sweet scents, while daisies and tulips danced in the morning light. The air was alive with the melodic chirping of birds, their songs interweaving harmoniously to create a serene soundtrack.

But Wanda’s attention wasn’t captured by the picturesque scenery alone. Her gaze was fixed on you, captivated by the way you eagerly absorbed every detail around you. She didn’t fight the feeling, becoming enchanted by the way your eyes darted from one beautiful sight to another, like a child in a candy store. She smiled warmly, filled with affection as she observed the way your features sparkled with excitement. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the way your face lit up with joy. It was in these simple moments that she found herself falling in love with you all over again.

“Witnessing the world through your eyes is a gift,” Wanda murmured, her voice filled with admiration. “You have an incredible ability to find wonder in the smallest things.”

You turned to her, a bright grin gracing your lips. “It’s… It’s hard not to be amazed when everything around us is so… beautiful.” Your arms swayed by your sides as you walked, and there was no mistaking the intentional brush of your knuckles against hers. “But… it’s even more special because I… I get to share it with you.” Her heart fluttered at your words, warmth swallowing her insides as she looked away to hide the dark red coloring her cheeks. “It’s… surreal.”

Her gaze returned to you, eyebrows pinched together tightly with confusion. You noticed the change, the sign of her perplexity, and it made you pause for a moment as you realized your words might have come across as ambiguous. Your lips pursed together, your eyes bouncing back and forth between hers as you worked your mind to come up with a better explanation.

“I- I mean… being here with you. It’s like a… a dream come true.” You breathed out as you slowly reached out for her hand, looking down to watch your fingers intertwine through hers, and the way her heart skipped a beat was serene. “I never imagined I’d be able to… touch you like this.”

Her brows unfurrowed slightly, the confusion giving way to a glimmer of understanding. Wanda’s lips curved into a tender smile, a mixture of relief and affection shining in her eyes. She hooked a finger under your chin, delicately guiding your head up to meet her gaze once more. “Being here with you feels like a dream for me too,” she murmured lowly, feeling a surge of warmth flow through her arm when you gave her hand a subconscious squeeze. “To hold your hand, to feel your touch… I never thought we’d see the day when I’d be able to do that.” The gentle breeze continued to brush against her skin, almost as if nature itself was encouraging her to bridge the gap between you. And she did.

Using her finger under your chin, she gently steered you closer, closing the distance between your lips. As they met in a soft kiss, the warmth that lingered in her arm expanded, spreading like wildfire through her entire body. Time seemed to stand still, and the world around you faded away. With each lingering touch of your lips, the warmth only intensified, enveloping them in a cocoon of bliss and contentment.

When you finally parted, a shared breathless smile danced on your lips, and Wanda’s eyes sparkled with a newfound certainty. “I never want to let go of this feeling,” she whispered. “Being with you, touching you… It’s everything I’ve ever longed for. And I won’t take it for granted.”

With a nod of her head, you continued your stroll, hand in hand. “I-” You looked down, watching your feet move you forward. “I don’t want to… take it for granted either.” You picked your head up, turning toward her to catch her small smile and twinkling eyes. “Wands… I l-”

“Hey there, Wanda.” Her smile tightened as she turned her head at the sound of her name. The mailman, with a cheerful expression, approached you with his cart in tow. He reached into the cart and retrieved a single card, instantly recognizable by its appearance. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. “Just this today,” he confirmed, extending the card towards you. However, after a moment of hesitation, Wanda reached out and took it instead.

“Wh- Where?” you asked, your eyes fixed on her as the man walked away. She laughed lightly when you eagerly accepted the card from her outstretched hand, your fingers grazing hers. Your gaze shifted to the picture on the postcard, revealing a serene beach lined with people and what appeared to be a castle hidden behind trees dancing on the space between sand and grass. As you studied the image, Wanda’s gaze was glued to you, observing the emotions flickering across your face. “Spain… She’s in Spain.” Your voice was laced with excitement, yet there was a tinge of longing minced in your words. Handing the postcard back to Wanda, you watched as she delicately flipped it over with another soft chuckle, tracing the curves of the handwritten message with her eyes. “Wh- What did… she say?”

“‘Thinking of you from the shores of Spain. Wish you were here to explore the enchantment together. Until then, let this postcard be a glimpse into the magic we’ll experience when we reunite. Sending love across the distance. Nat.’”

“She’s… She’s…” Your eyes shimmered with a mixture of joy and wistfulness. Excitement overwhelmed your entire being, leaving you rendered incapable of speaking. 

“She’s thinking of you,” Wanda finished your thought with a soft smile, her eyes filled with fondness. “Nat always had a way of making every place magical, whether she’s on assignment or not.” You let out a contented sigh, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. The weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, and watching them relax helped Wanda do just the same.

She extended her hand, a silent invitation to continue exploring the city together. You gladly accepted, intertwining your fingers with hers. The postcard, now safely tucked away in your pocket, held a cherished place in both your hearts as you walked hand in hand.

“What’s… that?” Wanda hadn’t realized she had been lost in your smile once again until you spoke, pulling her out of her reverie. She followed your gesture and looked in the direction you were pointing. In the distance, a lively scene unfolded before them. Tents were pitched, colorful balloons adorned tables, and the sound of music gradually grew louder as they approached.

It was a block party.

A mix of excitement and curiosity bubbled within Wanda as she observed the gathering. Laughter filled the air, and the aroma of delicious food wafted through the streets. Adults of all ages mingled, dancing to the upbeat rhythm and indulging in the festive atmosphere. As you slowed to a stop, her hand tightened around yours, a silent expression of her anticipation and willingness to join in the celebration, before the connection between you fell away. You looked at her, captivated by the longing in her eyes, and took a deep breath before walking forward.

“Y/N?” Wanda tailed after you, her face pinched up in confusion. “We don’t have to-”

“I’m…” You pursed your lips together, contemplating the next few seconds, before saying, “I see your new… friend.” Wanda, momentarily taken aback by your sudden determination, followed your gaze and spotted Agnes among the partygoers. A flicker of recognition crossed her face, and she couldn’t help but have her curiosity overwhelmed with intrigue. With a small nod, she understood your intentions and followed you to the festivities.

As you entered the lively atmosphere of the party, Wanda couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances you would steal in her direction. It reminded her of the way you used to look towards Natasha, seeking her support and comfort in public settings. The memory stirred a bittersweet feeling within her, as she understood the significance of those stolen glances. Realizing that you now sought solace and reassurance in her presence warmed Wanda’s heart. It was a testament to the bond you had developed and the trust that had grown between you. She felt a deep sense of gratitude and a renewed determination to be there for you, just as Natasha had been.

“Wanda!” Agnes, leaving her little group behind, made her way toward you with her signature grin. “And Y/N, a pleasure.”

Wanda’s gaze shifted towards Agnes as she approached, her curiosity piqued by the woman’s loud but friendly demeanor. She quickly glanced toward you, but your eyes were drawn to the neighbor’s nearing figure. She couldn’t see what you were thinking if you wouldn’t look at her.

“You two look absolutely fetching,” she claimed, crossing her arms over her chest with a touch of enthusiasm. “I’m thrilled you joined us! A block party just isn’t complete without the whole block, am I right?” Her laughter boomed, causing a faint twitch in your expression, a subtle reaction that Wanda’s observant gaze didn’t miss. Agnes’s piercing blue eyes seemed to fixate on you, making you instinctively tense up beside the Sokovian.

“We actually weren’t aware that a party was planned today,” Wanda confessed, luring Agnes’s attention away from you and onto her, “but it’s a pleasant way to get to know the neighbors!” Her chuckle was soothing and melodic - a stark difference to Agnes’s - and the sound of it melted away the tension that had gripped your muscles. “How about we explore the food options together? I’m sure they’ll have your favorite…” Her words trailed off as she realized you were suddenly no longer by her side, an instant knot of worry forming in the pit of her stomach. Swiftly, her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for your familiar presence amidst the crowd.

“You’ve got quite the crafty spouse, huh?” Agnes teased, her laughter carrying a light, playful tone. But she could see panic slowly overtaking the color of Wanda’s eyes and she gestured towards her with a reassuring wave. “No need to fret, dear. I’ll help you find her.”

Wanda gently moved past Agnes, her brain not quite registering the words the neighbor had just spoken. A heavy sensation settled in her chest, constricting her breathing and causing her heart to beat in slow, heavy thumps. The party’s atmosphere was warm and inviting, filled with friendly faces, but she hardly noticed them as she pushed deeper into the gathering. Her thoughts spun in a whirlwind, waves of worries and scenarios flooding her mind. How had you managed to step away from her without her noticing? Where could you have possibly gone in this small space? And, more importantly, what’s going to happen when you bump into a stranger who is overly friendly?

She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head gently. The party scene wasn’t exactly your forte, and that was one of the aspects she cherished about you. Your preference for cozy nights indoors, where you’d spend time doodling in your notebook or sitting together, engrossed in her favorite sitcoms, had its own kind of charm she absolutely loved. The sight of the lively party, though, had stirred a fleeting thought in her - a desire to proudly present you to the neighborhood, to walk in together with her arm intertwined with yours, showing off the treasure she had found. However, it was a fleeting thought, gone almost as soon as it had surfaced. A brief moment, a flicker in her eyes, which you had perhaps misconstrued for something else.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Wanda snapped out of her daze to focus on the woman in front of her, her hands resting on the witch’s shoulders as if she were keeping her up. “I should’ve been focusing on where I was walking!” The woman laughed generously, awkwardly, releasing the gentle hold she held on Wanda. The stranger sighed, shaking her head lightly as she fanned herself with her hand. “I actually don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“I’m starting to feel that way myself. I’m Wanda.” She held out a hand, smiling politely, yet the expression felt forced as the panic that had formed in her stomach only seemed to grow tighter the longer she went without seeing you.

“I’m, uh… Geraldine.” Geraldine accepted Wanda’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Say, I’m pretty new to town and I-” She interrupted herself when she noticed the lack of attention she was receiving from Wanda, an eyebrow raised slightly with curiosity as she watched the Sokovian’s eyes dart around the party behind her. “Are you-” She maneuvered her way to get in front of her, cutting off her line of sight to gain her attention. “Are you looking for somebody?”

“What?” Wanda blinked, focusing her gaze to meet Geraldine’s. “Oh, yes. My wife.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I lost track of her a few minutes ago and I’m just worried she might be…” Wanda’s voice faded as her gaze landed on you. You were seated at a picnic table with Agnes beside you, positioned at your preferred distance. The sight of you began to untangle the knot in Wanda’s gut. Her yearning to be closer to you was palpable as she watched you dig your thumb into your palm while Agnes chatted with you. However, she wondered if the neighbor’s words were even registering with you.

Agnes picked up a fry between her fingers delicately from the plate in front of her. “So, what made you and your wife move to our charming little town?” You blinked, muscles freezing as if you hadn't expected her to break the silence. Your eyebrows knitted together as you processed her sudden question, a hint of uncertainty playing on your features. Your mind worked quickly, trying to recall the answer to this seemingly straightforward icebreaker. A slight unease settled in as you searched for the words. You pushed your thumb into the scar riddling your palm slowly, breathing out deeply through your nose as you focused intently on the empty space before you. Agnes watched you for a moment longer, chewing thoughtfully. It didn’t seem like you had any intentions of answering the question. Hell, it didn’t seem like you had any intentions of talking at all. There had to be something Agnes could do to make you more comfortable around her. She leaned back, her wide grin shrinking to a softer, warmer smile. “No pressure, dear,” she assured, sliding the plate closer to you. “Are you hungry?”

For a fleeting moment, your gaze moved towards the food before you raised your head to lock eyes with her, a spark of curiosity coloring your irises. As her nod of encouragement came, your fingers moved, and by some accident, they brushed against Agnes’s. The connection was brief, but it sent a puzzling warmth flowing through you as your muscles locked. She moved her hand as she cleared her throat, and that managed to pull you out of your panic state. You grabbed a fry, bringing it to your mouth to let the salty flavor dance across your tongue. A sensation of ease embraced you at the taste, your shoulders falling as you relaxed. However, as you reached for another, the plate seemed to move away from you, as if you had unintentionally pushed it. Confusion knitted your brows together as you looked up at Agnes, only for a tightness to return to your muscles at the sight of her crooked smile.

“How about we indulge in a little game?” she proposed, keeping the plate - complete with a hotdog, though your attention was riveted on the fries - closer to herself. “I’ll happily provide you with more of these,” she gestured toward the food, “in exchange for an answer.” You found yourself chewing on the inside of your cheek, your gaze darting quickly across the party as you searched for Wanda in a moment of unease. Unable to locate her, you relented, nodding in agreement with Agnes’s offer, a subtle grin of satisfaction gracing her features.

“I-” You cleared your throat, a bit of discomfort lingering as you gathered your thoughts. “We… We were looking for a… change. A quieter place to… to settle down.” Your eyes flickered toward Agnes before your hands found their way onto the table, tracing an idle pattern with your nail across your palm.

Agnes nodded appreciatively as if you had just shared a fascinating tidbit. “Ah, the quest for a peaceful haven. It’s something we can all relate to. Westview is the perfect place for that.” Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she noted your subtle interest in the plate, the way you’d look at it from the corner of your eyes. “A deal’s a deal.” She inched the food closer to you, her chuckle soft as she observed the way you eagerly reached for another fry. Leaning in slightly, she added, “Have the two of you explored the town a bit? Discovered any hidden gems I ought to be aware of?”

Your enthusiasm surged, and a radiant smile painted your face as you eagerly nodded. “We found a little… art museum,” you began, your gaze lifting to meet Agnes’s, where you found her typically piercing blue eyes now soft and gentle. “It’s… uh, a l- local place.” You glanced around the party once more, your gaze seemingly searching for your other half, but this time it wasn’t in need of comfort. It held an air of secrecy, as if you were about to share a juicy secret with your nosy neighbor. You turned back towards Agnes, your voice lowering an octave to keep your next sentence out of the ears of any bystanders. “I’m trying to… get my art displayed so… so I can surprise Wanda.”

“For Art’s Sake?” Agnes wore a sly smile when you cautiously nodded, her voice suddenly tinged with excitement. “Can you believe it, my husband, Ralph, is the one who runs that place. Isn’t that a marvelous coincidence?” She playfully wagged her finger, adding, “In fact, there’s an empty spot in the gallery he’s been itching to fill.”

“R- Really?” you responded, perking up.

“Absolutely!” She beamed, sliding the plate of fries closer to you. “It’s a charmingly small town, darling, just teeming with delightful surprises.” She leaned in even closer, her tone conspiratorial. “How about we make a little reverse art heist? You and I can swing by your place to grab that painting. Meanwhile, I’ll discreetly pop over to the museum and set it up. By the time you return with Wanda, it’ll be a wonderful surprise waiting for her.”

You scanned the lively gathering, but amidst the bustling crowd, you were still incapable of locating Wanda. A nagging thought in the back of your mind urged you to seek her out, to share the scheme you were hatching. After all, she was your confidant, your partner in navigating life’s twists and turns. Yet, here you stood at a crossroads, torn between the instinctual desire to include her in your plans and the wish to keep the surprise intact.

Agnes had a fleeting concern that you might change your mind as moments stretched in silence, so imagine her surprise when you finally nodded, returning your gaze to her with newfound determination. “Okay…” As you began to rise from your seat, it became clear that there was no room for her to do or say anything else; you had made up your mind, and you fully expected her to follow your lead.

To her credit, she did indeed follow. And, soon, she found herself standing in front of a map of the world hanging up in your living room. A few postcards were pinned to it, marking the locations from which they were presumably sent, although the pictures on the front held no names of the states. Agnes, being the nosy neighbor she is, couldn’t help but sneak a peek at what was written on the other side, but the sound of you descending the stairs quickly made her abandon her attempts.

“I… I’ve got it.” You presented a canvas as you looked toward her, your eyes landing on the map she was standing in front of. You made your way over to it, reaching into your pocket and leaning the artwork against the wall. She watched with curious eyes as you pinned a new postcard over Spain, now totaling four in all. “We can… We can go now.” You picked up the painting as you turned to leave, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Who are they from?”

“Nat.” You looked at the map, your expression briefly clouded by sorrow. “She’s… on an assign- mission. But she’s going to take me and Wanda to… see the world when she’s done!” A grin spread across your face, eyes lighting up with excitement as you pointed at the postcard you had just pinned. “She’s in… Spain right now. She’s tracking down a… a rogue agent.”

Agnes tilted her head to the side as she looked at you. “Who’s Nat?”

“Natasha,” you expressed, meeting her gaze, “Romanoff. She’s…” Your smile turned rueful. “She’s my mom. I- I miss her… all the time, but… she’s doing her job. And her job… It’s important.” She watched as your gaze quickly shifted back to the card on the wall, your lips caught between your teeth. There was a sense of innocence about you that Agnes almost found endearing, a childlike wonder that time hadn’t managed to erase.

“Well, this painting isn’t going to hang itself, dear!” she declared, extending her hand. “May I?” 

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek as you stared at her opened palm. It was as if you had momentarily forgotten the plan altogether, pulling the painted canvas against you to prevent Agnes from reaching it. She released an impatient sigh but maintained a small, warm smile as her hands fell away. “Do you… Be- Be careful with it,” you quietly pleaded, passing the artwork to her. You felt a momentary tension in your muscles as her fingers brushed lightly across your knuckles. Yet when she pulled away, a perplexing warmth flowed through your veins, leaving you somewhat bewildered and frozen.

She rewarded you with a radiant grin. “I’ll be extremely delicate with it,” she assured you. “Give me an hour.” She passed you to make her way toward the door, pulling it open before glancing back over her shoulder. “It’ll be perfectly set up by then.” With a wink, she vanished behind the closing door, leaving you frozen with deep breaths to steady your racing heart…

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“There you are!” Wanda’s voice resonated with relief the moment you joined her. If that wasn’t enough to convey her emotions, her arms wrapping around you in one of the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced certainly did the trick. “Where did you wander off to?” She pulled back slightly so she could look into your eyes, yet her wrists still lingered on your shoulders with the tips of her fingers dancing across the bottom of your jaw.

“I, uh… I- I was with-” You attempted to explain, but your words were interrupted.

“Sorry, Wanda, but I can’t seem to find her anywhere.” A newcomer approached, and you turned to regard her, eyebrows knitting and head tilting slightly with curiosity.

“Geraldine, meet Y/N.” Wanda introduced you with evident pride, her posture radiating confidence. “Y/N, this is Geraldine. She’s new to Westview, too.” Geraldine extended her hand, but you only glanced toward Wanda, eyes pleading for assistance. She chuckled softly, intertwining her arm with yours and pulling you closer. “Thank you for your help, Geraldine, but I think we should be heading home,” Wanda remarked, steering you away before any further conversation could ensue. You felt a mixture of relief and lingering uncertainty.

“You… We should’ve stayed,” you ventured, clearing your throat as Wanda continued to walk down the sidewalk, her arm still linked with yours. “They- You were making… friends. Why not stay… hang out?”

She looked at you for a brief second before saying, “I’m quite tired. You know someone can only withstand so much social time before getting burned out.” She smirked, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Besides, I’d much rather cuddle on the couch with you and get some TV in.”

“Are you… really tired?” you questioned, looking down at the way her arm wrapped through yours. “Are we really going… home?” You picked your head up to meet her gaze, and you had trouble fighting the smirk teasing your lips when you saw the way one of her eyebrows was quirked.

“Why?” Her voice held a hint of playful skepticism. 

“Can… Can we still go to the art gallery?” You straightened your form just slightly, yet it gave you the confidence to continue,  “I- I heard that there’s a… a new piece there!” You flashed her a wide smile, one she always had a hard time saying no to, and she chuckled softly, knowing exactly why you were giving her that grin.

“Of course, Y/N,” she expressed, “but let’s take the long way there, shall we?”

The charming art museum came into view not long after, filling you with overwhelming excitement. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you courteously held the door open, allowing Wanda to step inside before you.

Once again, the museum appeared just as it had before, but that didn’t diminish the sense of awe that washed over you, reminiscent of the very first time you’d set foot in this place. And, as before, Wanda paid no attention to the art on display. After all, why would she when the most beautiful artwork she’d ever bear witness to was holding her hand?

Then she saw it. And, when she did, she couldn’t seem to look away.

The painting presented an enthralling tapestry of colors and forms, orchestrating an enchanting ballet where lines and edges converged and blurred, weaving an almost dreamlike quality into the portrait. At the heart of the canvas stood a solitary figure, radiating an air of enigma and power. Her hair cascaded around her like a fiery halo, and her expressive eyes held a deep emerald hue that seemed to move, capturing the endless ebb and flow of emotions.

The indistinct strokes that shaped her features conveyed an evasive allure, as if she were in an everlasting state of metamorphosis, perpetually shifting between an array of sentiments. Behind her, a blend of hues swirled into existence, employing a rich combination of reds and blacks. This vivid palette created an illusion of chaos and magic, as though the very essence of reality was bending and undulating in response to the figure’s presence.

It was clear that she had momentarily lost her ability to use her lungs, her breath having been caught in her throat the moment she laid eyes on the painting. However, when you gently squeezed her hand - as if you were reminding her that she was actually awake - it brought her back to reality. She quickly glanced at the plate beneath the artwork…

“The Scarlet Sorceress” Y/N Maximoff

…and in an instant, her gaze locked onto yours. “Y/N,” she gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment. “H- How?”

You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness under her intense gaze. “I- I can’t cook… for you, Wanda,” you stammered as her focus returned to the painting, “but I can… I can paint for you.” Your eyes stayed fixed on the side of her face, noting the subtle part of her lips and the sparkling of her eyes as they remained locked on the artwork as if it were the only thing in the room. “I just- I wanted to… surprise you,” you added quietly, but as she continued to remain silent, your anxiety grew. “Is it… too much?”

“Absolutely not,” she quickly declared, turning her head to focus her gaze on you. “It’s… beautiful, Y/N.” Bringing your intertwined hands up, she pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, causing the anxious knot in your gut to begin to untie. “It’s the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” Her smile illuminated the green hues in her irises, making them even more vibrant. “I love it.”

“I… didn’t name it,” you whispered, and she followed your gaze back to the painting as she pulled you closer to her. “But it… fits.” Your smile nearly matched Wanda’s brightness as the two of you stood there for a while longer, because at that moment, nothing else seemed to matter…

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“I’ve made us some hot chocolate,” Wanda announced as she entered the living room later that night, carefully carrying two steaming mugs topped with overflowing whipped cream. A soft smile played on her lips as she recalled the first time you had tasted the drink, the look on your face when your entire body had relaxed the moment the rich, chocolaty liquid touched your tongue. “Remember when-” Her voice caught in her throat when she spotted you on the couch. Your legs were drawn up to your chest, your arms tightly wrapped around your knees, and your thumb pressing harshly into your scarred palm. She pursed her lips, then placed the cups onto the end table, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong, my dove?”

“A- Agnes.” A tightness formed in her gut as the name left your lips, and she took a step closer to you, her jaw clenched tightly, feeling as if it were nearly impossible to pry it open again. You had filled her in on your little “art heist” with the nosy neighbor on the walk home, yet it only left her mind to race through all the possible scenarios of what might have transpired during the time between. Did Agnes make you feel uncomfortable? Nervous? Did she make you feel scared, or even unsafe? The possibilities seemed endless to Wanda, and she was already planning a warpath to the house to the right- “She… She called you my… wife,” you continued, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Wanda’s lips. Her tension eased, and she continued listening as you spoke about the nameplate at the museum, realizing that Agnes had merely echoed Wanda’s own words toward you. “Is… Is that what… we are?” You looked up at her, seemingly melting into her brilliant green eyes as you softly asked, “Married?”

Wanda felt a sudden wave of nerves wash over her as if she had popped the life-altering question right then and there and was waiting for you to give her an answer. She shifted closer, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you. Her voice, low and warm, broke the silence. “Is that what you want to be?” she asked gently.

Your response was equally soft, tinged with doubt. “We… don’t have rings… And I- I never… proposed.”

“What if I propose?” Wanda suggested, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and her chin cradled in her palms. She smiled at you kindly.

“Is… Is that what you… want?” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with hesitation.

She bit her lower lip, her warm gaze locked onto yours, momentarily lost in their depths. Then, she blinked herself back to the present, moving closer until she was perched at the edge of the table. Wanda gently took hold of your wrists, coaxing you out of your curled-up posture. “Y/N Romanoff,” she began, her voice filled with emotion as she enveloped your hands within her own, “will you marry me?” Now she had popped the life-altering question, and she was waiting for you to give her an answer… which felt like forever. It seemed as if you could only manage to stare into her eyes as if you had lost your voice and didn’t know how else to give her a response. She could feel her heart picking up speed in her chest, beginning to thump against her ribcage as it gradually picked up the urgency to escape this tense silence. She was going to be sick, her stomach twisting angrily. She just needed to hear your voice. She didn’t care what the answer was, she just needed you to break the silence…

“I- I do,” you finally said, granting her reprieve as she visibly relaxed.

And then she chuckled softly as she interlaced her fingers with yours. “You’re not supposed to say that yet,” she teased, leaning closer to you, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips. “You’re supposed to wait for the wedding.”

A glint of excitement filled your eyes as you perked up. “Can… Can Nat come? I want her to… walk me down the aisle.” It was impossible to fight at this point, she lost the smile that had stretched her lips, yet you didn’t see it as you were already on your feet, making your way to the map on the wall. She was slow to follow you, watching as you tapped your finger against the new postcard. “She’s… here now,” you claimed, “so… it should take…” Your finger drew away from Spain, tracing a line towards America, but she was quick to catch your hand with hers, clearing her throat with a newfound nervousness.

“Y/N…” She sighed out, rubbing the top of your hand with her thumb. “We should talk about Nat…” She was hesitant to meet your gaze, watching her fingers twirl seamlessly around yours, her stomach twisting as her nerves caught fire. She needed to address the issue, to face it head-on. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. “Dove-”

“I… I know,” you assured in a hushed tone, prompting her to slowly raise her head, meeting your eyes. They held a kindness, a softness, an aura of forgiveness that unraveled the knot in her gut. And your smile, so innocent and just as forgiving, further eased her. “I… She came here and we… we talked.” Wanda’s brows furrowed with curiosity. She tilted her head slightly but remained silent as you went on, “I’m not… sure how she appeared, but… she told me not to… worry about her. That death is just a… a one-way ticket to a distant star.” Your face reflected intense concentration, momentarily distant, before reconnecting with her as you asked, “Is… she right?

Lost in the depths of your eyes for the millionth time, Wanda found solace in the gentle squeeze of your hand. You looked at her with a hopeful expression, waiting for an answer. “She is,” she whispered, nodding solemnly. Using your grip, she tugged you closer, savoring the warmth as your arms instinctively wrapped around her waist. “She got taken away, but it doesn’t mean she’s gone forever.”

Your lips pressed together in contemplation, your narrowed pupils seeming to gaze through her, despite the mere inches that separated your faces. She resisted the temptation to delve into your thoughts, instead patiently waiting for you to express your feelings aloud.

However, the warmth that had been steadily enveloping her began to dissipate when you stepped back, leaving an icy void. It was evident that you struggled to find the right words to express your feelings, and you chewed the inside of your cheek as your thoughts raced without capturing the depths of your emotions. She trailed after you as you slowly moved past her, making your way to the front door and then stepping out into the yard.

“Y/N….” Her words trailed off as you stopped and gazed up at the night sky, your shoulders slumping. She stood beside you, and despite the countless twinkling stars decorating the dark canvas above, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your fingers wrapping around hers when you felt their presence at your side, seeking solace in her touch. “I- I wanted… to see her.” You exhaled a heavy, soft breath as Wanda tilted her head toward the sky with you. “Just… Just one more time.”

She gently squeezed your hand, sharing the moment of silence with you as you both stared up at the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars above seemed to twinkle with a knowing grace as if they held secrets of the universe. “I understand,” she whispered gently, her voice carrying a soothing tone. She turned her gaze toward you, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Would you like to stay out here for a while, just the two of us?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you spared another second to gaze up at the starry canvas above. When your eyes returned to meet hers, they shimmered brightly. However, the smile that slowly graced your face contradicted the sadness she had expected. “No,” you spoke softly, gently shaking your head. “We… We have hot chocolate waiting for us. I don’t… want it to get cold.”

Wanda began to speak, her voice laced with concern, but you interrupted her.

“It’s…” Your smile held a touch of melancholy, yet your shoulders relaxed as you turned your head back to the bright dots coloring the night sky. “It’s okay, Wands. This… This was my goodbye.” You punctuated your words with a firm, confident nod, signaling a sense of closure and acceptance that enveloped the both of you like a comforting embrace. You flashed her a smile before being the first one to step away, gently releasing Wanda’s hand as you made your way back into the house.

However, Wanda lingered for a moment longer, releasing a long, low breath as her eyes locked onto the brightest star above her. With a soft smile directed at the beacon, she mouthed the words, “Thank you,” while pressing her palms together in a silent expression of gratitude.

“Wands!” Her name rang out, causing her to turn with a soft, amused laugh as she walked through the door, closing it gently behind her. You were back on the couch, your legs folded comfortably beneath you, cradling one of the mugs of hot chocolate in your hands. “I… Thank you for the… the hot chocolate,” you said, tilting your head back against the couch to look at her from an upside-down perspective. You shot her a small smile, your eyes sparkling vividly.

Observing you closely, she noticed the way you watched her, and her expression became pensive. There was something wrong, a question lingering in her mind. Were you truly okay? She knew the profound significance of Natasha in your life, which was why she had initially chosen not to reveal the truth. Yet, in less than five minutes of stargazing, you appeared to have accepted her death with an unexpected ease. Shouldn’t you be more emotionally affected by the passing of someone you regarded as a mother? How could you seemingly be so composed? Furthermore, you continued to carry on the illusion of her being alive even after discovering the truth. If Wanda hadn’t mustered the courage to reveal the reality, how long would you have maintained that pretense?

She cleared her throat, and your eyes attentively followed her graceful movements until she settled beside you. Sitting up, you reached for the second mug, offering it to her. “We should talk, Y/N,” she asserted, her voice firm yet gentle, as her hands enveloped the cup.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” you asked in a faint tone, your arms lowering to rest your drink in your lap.

“No, my dove,” she assured with a soft laugh, removing a hand from her cup to press her warm palm gently against your cheek. Her heart fluttered with warmth as you leaned into her touch. “I just think we need to talk about Nat.” She sighed, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. “It’s going to be a very long time before you see her again, sweetheart.”

Your lips formed a thin line, and she felt her heart tighten when she noticed the hint of tears glistening in your eyes. Your next words were barely a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to hear you, “What if I… forget her, Wanda?”

Her heart swelled with empathy, finally seeing the pain and vulnerability in your face. “You once told me that looking at the stars is gazing into the past,” she reminded you, and you nodded in agreement. “So, whenever you gaze upon the night sky and see her star shining with all its might… it will be as if you’re experiencing those cherished memories with her once more.” Her hand tenderly ascended, her fingertips softly caressing your forehead. “You will never forget her, baby. Not as long as she’s up there.”

She managed to wipe away the tear that had escaped its confinement with her thumb, and your subtle but unmistakable smile warmed her heart. Leaning against her, you allowed her to wrap her arm around you, drawing you closer in a comforting embrace. You rested your head on her shoulder, your gaze fixed on your untouched drink. “I’m… I’m going to miss her… forever,” you confessed softly.

“I know, love,” Wanda whispered. “I’m going to miss her, too.”

“Wands,” you murmured. She responded with a low hum, gently rubbing your arm as you took slow breaths. “I… I want to keep… her name.” A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned her cheek against the top of your head. “Is… Is that okay?”

“Of course, my dove,” she assured quietly. 

“Can you… Can you fix another problem?” A mischievous glint sparkled in your eyes as you tilted your chin up to meet her gaze. “You’re my wife” - Wanda’s heart skipped a beat at the word, excitement fluttering in her stomach as she eagerly awaited your next words - “but… but we don’t… We need… rings, Wands.”

She laughed softly, a proud grin dancing on her lips as you picked up your left arm to showcase your bare finger. In response, she positioned her hand next to yours. “I can certainly fix that,” she declared. With a wave of her wrist and a shimmer of scarlet light, your once-bare finger was now adorned with a magnificent band. “A beautiful ring for my beautiful wife.” Your chuckle filled her body with warmth as you looked up to meet her gaze once more, but instead of saying something, you inched forward to bring your lips against hers.

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Each night, darkness and silence enveloped the room as bedtime approached. You and Wanda would assume your familiar sleeping positions - she always insists on resting her head on your chest - and she would gradually succumb to slumber, guided by the rhythmic thump of your heart. Meanwhile, you counted the seconds, matching them with her gentle breaths, until you, too, surrendered to the world of unconsciousness. However, it wasn’t the restful slumber most experienced; instead, it was a void of dreams, a peaceful yet empty serenity…

But tonight was different. Your descent into that bottomless abyss was extremely short-lived, interrupted by an unfamiliar yet unmistakable sound, jolting you awake. Your eyes darted around the room, quickly detecting the absence of Wanda on her side of the bed. Panic gripped you for a moment before you threw off the blankets, eager to find the source of the distress. Peeking around the door of the bathroom, your brows furrowed deeply with concern, you found your wife on the floor, clutching the toilet bowl as if it were her lifeline.

“Wands?” You cautiously moved to stand in the doorway, but she quickly raised her hand, signaling you to stay put. You paused, nervously pressing your thumb against your palm as you watched her heave into the toilet. “Are… Are you okay?”

She drew in a deep breath, resting her cheek against her arm for a moment before slowly regaining her composure enough to rise to her feet. Stepping over to the sink, she turned on the faucet, and you remained silent as she washed her hands. “I’ll be fine, dove,” she reassured you in a soft voice, barely audible over the rushing water. “I think it’s just a stomach bug.” 

She stood up straight, freezing when she noticed you were no longer in the doorway. Frowning with confusion, she took a step toward the hallway and gasped when she almost collided with you when you turned the corner back into the bathroom. Her laughter was soft, and she placed a hand over her heart while the other gently rested on your shoulder. “I- I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face briefly showing guilt before a smile lit it up. “I… I got you a ginger ale.” With a cup in hand filled with fizzy soda, you extended it toward her. “It almost always helped when… I get an upset tummy.”

“Thank you, my love,” she expressed, her fingers curling around the cool glass. “You should go back to bed. I’ll be okay, I promise.” She placed her free hand gently against your cheek in case her words weren’t enough, but the frown on your face made her tilt her head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

You looked away, focusing on your thumb tracing your scar. In a hushed tone, you confessed, “I don’t… I don’t like going to sleep.” She sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy as she placed her drink on the sink.

“Why not, baby?” She added her second hand to your other cheek when it was clear you were hesitating, gently guiding your head up until your eyes met hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” You nodded in response. “Why don’t you like sleeping?”

You chewed your bottom lip, taking a moment to gather yourself while the greens in her eyes offered you comfort. The warmth radiating from her fingertips encouraged you to share your feelings. “I… When I… close my eyes now,” you began, your voice barely more than a breath in the quiet room, “I don’t see you… anymore. It’s just… darkness.” Your hands moved to cover hers. “I… miss dreaming.” Wanda regarded you with a soft, understanding gaze. “It feels more like I’m sitting in a… in a dark room instead of sleeping. I… I'm always tired.”

“How long has this been going on, Y/N?” she inquired, her tone tender and empathetic. Her thumbs glided smoothly across your cheeks, and you found yourself melting further into her touch. “You know I could have helped you.”

“I- I know,” you replied, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. You offered her a soft yet melancholic smile. “I just… I’ve been enjoying sleeping with… you.” Then your eyes widened, and Wanda burst into laughter, her amusement contagious as you stammered to clarify, “Not- Not like that. I- I mean… I do en- enjoy sleeping with you… in that way, b- but in this case, I…” Your expression shifted to a frown, your bottom lip jutting out, a telltale sign that you felt like you’d messed something up.

“It’s alright, my love,” she comforted, her hands sliding down to grip the nape of your neck, a smile growing on her face, unstoppable and unhidden. Leaning closer, her lips brushed across your earlobe, sending a wave of shivers down your spine as she whispered, “I enjoy sleeping with you as well.” Pulling away, she left a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. But her mischievous grin was cut short as waves of nausea hit her, sending her rushing back to the toilet.

You snapped out of your stupor, moving to her side, a hand on her back as you gently held her hair out of the way. “Did you eat… something?” you asked quietly when her convulses paused. “I… I noticed that the milk… went bad.”

She sat up a bit, looking over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “And when did you notice that?” she returned, but you only managed to send her a sheepish smile in response before she returned to the retching.

You had lost track of the time the two of you spent in the bathroom, but the sun was high in the sky by the time Wanda’s sickness seemed to ease a bit, allowing you to finally persuade her to lie down. Your nerves were palpable; taking care of someone when they were sick was uncharted territory for you. Natasha had always been the one to care for you when you fell ill, and she consistently downplayed her own illnesses, refusing your attempts to return the favor. In an attempt to distract your anxious mind and keep busy while sleep remained elusive, you found yourself rummaging through the refrigerator, searching for expired foods to dispose of.

The milk was the first to go.

Your distraction with reading expiration labels had been so effective that you hadn’t noticed the back door open, let alone any knocks, if they had occurred at all. You turned around, attempting to place an expired bottle of salad dressing onto the kitchen island when you suddenly spotted Agnes standing right behind you. Your heart jumped in your throat at the unexpected sight of your neighbor.

“Sorry, dear,” Agnes chuckled. “I’ve been told I can be awfully quiet on my feet!” She shifted to the side, allowing you to place the bottle down, and cast a curious eye over the assortment of perishables on the counter as you returned to the fridge. “Am I interrupting some spring cleaning?”

Your brows furrowed, and you turned to face her again. “It’s… It’s not spring.” Then, shaking your head, you stepped closer to her, closing the fridge door behind you. “Wanda. She’s not… feeling well.” Your lips pressed together as you glanced at the food, uncertain about what to do now that you’d isolated it. “I… I don’t know how to help.” Meeting Agnes’s gaze, you asked, “Y- Have you ever… taken care of someone with a… a bug?”

She laughed lightly, waving her hand as if the question was absurd. And, to be honest, it kind of was. “Of course,” she replied. “Ralph always manages to catch the latest stomach bug going around.” She cupped her hand around the side of her mouth and added with a wink, “Sometimes I’m pretty sure he’s even patient zero, if you catch my drift.”

You perked up, eyes widening with hope. “Wh- What can I do… to help Wanda?”

“Well,” Agnes mused, “I know chicken noodle soup does wonders.” She offered a reassuring smile, but her expression turned quizzical when she noticed you seemed a bit hesitant.

“I… I’m not exactly a… skilled cook,” you confessed, your gaze drifting to the battered smoke detector that had been moved to the table, a reminder of your last culinary adventure. She followed your gaze and let out a sympathetic sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to you. “Is… Is there something else I can… do? Maybe I… I can run to the store a- and buy it-”

“I can teach you,” she offered with a broad grin. “Trust me, dear, it’s going to make her feel so much better knowing it came from you and not some store.” Her gaze shifted back to the array of food on your counter. “We can use some ingredients from my house. Let me go get them, and I’ll be right back.” She playfully winked at you before turning on her heels and heading out.

She wasn’t sure how long she had drifted into sleep, but the sun still painted a glow through the sliver in the curtains when Wanda opened her eyes. Inhaling deeply, one hand resting on her upset stomach, she stretched the other across the bed. Turning her head, she noted your absence, prompting her to sit up and strain her ears. Muffled voices reached her, guiding her to rise and follow the source of the commotion.

“Exactly like that, dear!” Agnes’s voice, unusually enthusiastic, was more animated than Wanda had ever heard it. Apparently, the neighbor could be even more energetic. “Now, let’s get that chicken into the broth.”

Turning the corner into the kitchen, Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, a soft and slightly confused smile gracing her features as she observed you with curiosity. You were handling a bowl of chicken with deliberate caution, slowly pouring the contents into a pot of bubbling broth. “What’s going on here?” Wanda’s voice broke through your focus, and your eyes snapped to meet hers. It was as if you’d been caught in the act of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, and the bowl you were holding slipped through your fingers, making a metallic sound as it hit the counter before spinning to the ground. A flush of red spread across your cheeks, and you cleared your throat.

“Y- You…” You huffed. “I- I was making you chicken noodle soup be- because you’re sick and Agnes… She said that it… helps.” Your voice wavered, and the confused smile on Wanda’s face transformed into a bright grin. The tension in your muscles visibly eased when she laughed softly.

“We did lose most of the chicken, dear,” Agnes claimed with a downward glance towards the mess at her feet, “so now it’s just noodle soup.” Your hand reached for a towel resting on the counter, seemingly coinciding with Agnes’s attempt. The tension in the room seemed to swallow you when your fingers brushed against hers, causing a noticeable stiffness in your muscles. That familiar perplexing warmth flowed through you, and it was only when Wanda’s voice reached your ears that you managed to release yourself from the unintentional discomfort once again.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, moving further into the room. “It smells delicious.” You had to look away to hide the blush that burned your face.

Turning to Wanda, Agnes sized her up with an assessing look. “How’re you feeling, Wanda? Y/N told me all about your morning adventures!”

As the two women chatted, you knelt down to address the spill. Their conversation formed a comforting backdrop as you efficiently scooped the chicken back into the bowl and stood up, placing it aside. Gazing into the simmering pot, you pondered if this simple remedy would suffice. It wasn’t a permanent solution, you knew that, but you hoped it might provide Wanda some relief, easing her nausea. Catching a bug was unpleasant, and it frustrated you that you couldn’t do more for her.

The ladies’ talk returned more prominently to your awareness, Agnes’s next words snapping your attention to them. “Oh, honey. You’re not sick.” Frozen, confusion etched across your face like a painting, you locked eyes with Wanda. There was no doubt she was! You held her hair back while she was- “You’re expecting! Congratulations.” Applause echoed through the room, but your mind struggled to process the revelation while your gaze dropped to your fingers as if they were magic, eyebrows knitted together tightly. Could that even be possible?

“Surely I’m not pregnant, Agnes!” Wanda scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s-” The abrupt pause in her sentence drew your attention back, and as you looked at your wife, you noticed her staring at her stomach. Following her gaze, you realized Agnes was right. The small bump that had formed under Wanda’s shirt attested to that. Your heart started to burn. Was this what a heart attack felt like? “Could that even be possible?” Wanda echoed your previous thought in a faint tone.

Whatever Agnes said to Wanda only became more background noise as your mind raced. You hadn’t received the most ideal education when you were younger, but you weren’t ignorant about the basics of human reproduction. You and Wanda? Well, that’s definitely not how that works. However, the evidence was undeniable. The sudden morning sickness, now coupled with the noticeable bump you had somehow overlooked until now, painted a vivid clear picture. Wanda was pregnant - a little bundle of joy was on the way, a child that would be part of both her and you. A newborn. Panic set in. How were you going to take care of a baby when you struggled to care for Wanda, an adult? A child would need much more, unable to do things for themselves. This wasn’t something you had ever thought of before. Children? You and Wanda had just decided to get married a few days ago. Children? You’re not ready. Would you ever be ready? What’s going to happen when the baby arrives? You struggled to talk confidently, would your child pick up on that? Would your child pick up on your other traits? You became uncomfortable with physical contact. Would you be able to pick up your child? You had gotten accustomed to Wanda’s touch, would you do the same for your child? You sure are thinking your child a lot. Because that’s what this was going to be. Your child. Your child. Your-

“Dove.” Wanda’s voice was a soft murmur, and the feel of her breath caressing the side of your neck caused you to snap out of the whirlwind of your thoughts. You turned, finding her unexpectedly close. Her green eyes shimmered with concern, a faint shine highlighting the contours of her face. It was a familiar glow, one you hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. You dropped your gaze to see the yellow hue matching the brilliance of the sun coloring your veins, enveloping your arms. It wasn’t a heart attack. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, her fingers leaving goosebumps as they gently traced your cheeks. “Take deep breaths.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, seeking release. As you looked back into her eyes, your nose tingled, the yellow glow only intensifying. “Wands…” you choked, shaking your head subtly, unable to tear your gaze away from her. “I- I can’t… I-” Your eyelids squeezed close tightly.

“Listen to me,” she urged, her palms tenderly cradling your face. Her touch worked like a tranquilizing agent, pacifying the chaotic thoughts in your mind. “We’re going to get through this together, you hear me? Just the two of us.” She rested her forehead against yours, your noses lightly grazing. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself. You never have to face anything alone, my dove. Not as long as I’m here. And I’m here to stay.” Your eyes fluttered open, locking with hers as she teased with a playful smirk, “You’re stuck with me.”

You nodded, finally feeling the grip of panic loosening as her hands moved down to your shoulders. Her fingers intertwined behind your neck, and the yellow glow in your veins gradually faded. Your racing heart slowed, and you sniffed harshly. “T- Three.”

“What?” She furrowed her brows slightly, a hint of confusion in her expression as she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of the singular word before you voiced the explanation out loud.

You rested a hand against her stomach, inhaling deeply. “Just… Just the… three of us.”

In that moment, an overwhelming wave of emotions engulfed Wanda - joy, pride, excitement, and, at its core, love, all flooded her entire being. Leaning in, she captured your lips with hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It felt as if this kiss was imprinting the moment, sealing your future. She realized now she needed you as much as you needed her, and the two of you were going to embark on the journey of raising this child. Together. And she wouldn’t change that for the world.

“The doctor’s here.” Agnes’s voice cut through the air before she strolled into the room. You instinctively distanced yourself from Wanda, a flush of red coloring your cheeks. Agnes eyed the two of you, folding her arms with a knowing smirk. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting a celebration, dears.”

“Doctor…?” You furrowed your brows, sharing a glance with Wanda, who took your fingers into her hand to give them a gentle squeeze.

“It’s just a precaution, dove,” she reassured softly. “We need to make sure the baby’s okay.” Your lips pursed, nodding in understanding. Wanda guided you into the living room, and a glance at the doctor left your heart racing. If she weren’t tugging you, you would’ve been frozen at the doorway.

“I’ll give you three some privacy,” Agnes declared, lingering in the kitchen. “Just holler if you need anything!”

Wanda settled onto the couch, drawing you down beside her as the doctor delved into his bag, retrieving his stethoscope. Her grasp on your hand remained steadfast, sensing both your unease and the unconscious desire to fidget.

As the doctor pressed the instrument against Wanda’s belly, your breath caught, and a surge of nervous questions flooded your mind. Why were you so anxious? What was the source of this nervous energy? Were you more afraid of the possibility of a baby or the absence of one? The idea of a mistake crossed your mind. If Wanda wasn’t pregnant, she would be devastated. Her excitement at the notion was unmistakable. But how about you? Just five minutes ago, the news didn’t excite you. No, they made you panic. Had your feelings changed so swiftly? Were you… excited now? A baby - Wanda’s and yours.

A small smile tugged at your lips at the thought.

“Yep, definitely pregnant,” the doctor confirmed, and you felt a surge of… relief. Your smile grew as you gazed down at your intertwined hands.

“We pretty much guessed that,” Wanda commented. “It’s just taken us by surprise. It’s sudden. Overnight, practically.” You glanced at her, a slight furrow in your brows at her unexpected nervousness. Was she not ecstatic earlier? “How… How does this even happen?”

The doctor looked between the two of you as if contemplating the complexity of the situation himself. He then broke into a wide smile, attempting a light-hearted approach. “You see, when two people love each other very much-” He halted his joke mid-sentence, knowing how impossible it was, and straightened his form to place his hands on his hips. “You’re about four months along, right?” Wanda nodded, though you absentmindedly shook your head dubiously… until she sent you a look, causing you to switch your doubt to agreement. “I thought so. At this time, the fetus is about the size of a pear.”

You cleared your throat, leaning forward. You had to ignore the doctor’s stare, focusing on the feeling of Wanda’s fingers still interlocked with yours to say, “Wh- What… size would it be at, uh… twelve hours?”

“Pardon?” He smiled, hesitating. “Twelve hours?”

Wanda laughed lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to pat your knee. You looked at her with curiosity as she said, “She’s just concerned.”

“Every new mother-to-be gets nervous,” the doctor claimed happily. “Don’t worry; that feeling will go away when you look your newborn in the eye!” He picked up his bag.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you see the doctor out?” Wanda’s eyes met yours, and it took you a moment to process her words before you blinked yourself out of her hypnotizing gaze, standing up. As you walked away with the doctor, Wanda’s face lit up with a smile, and she rose from the couch, her hands gently caressing her belly as she made her way toward the kitchen.

“It’s a stroke of luck you caught me in time,” he claimed as the two of you stepped out onto the porch. You looked away from him as he stopped to turn to you, eyes landing on the neighbor trimming his edges with curiosity. “I’m taking the wife on vacation this afternoon.” You watched him - you were pretty sure his name was Herb - as he ran his trimmers across the hedges. “Oh! This should be of great use for you.” You looked back at the doctor in time to see him reach into his bag, pulling out a book with an animated picture of a stork on it. You slowly accepted the gift. “It has all the answers to everything you need to know about being a parent. Maybe even help you with those nerves a bit.” He waved his fingers at you as he started to walk away, yet your eyes were too focused on the book to notice. “I’m off to Bermuda!”

Your attention returned to the neighbor, his wide smile contrasting the odd scene of him driving the hedge trimmers through the wall. Stepping backward, the book clutched in your hands, you closed the door before turning around. “Hey… Wands? Our… neigh-” Wanda pivoted to face you, your voice catching in your throat as you noticed her expanded belly. “You… You got… bigger?”

“Did I?” She looked down as you approached slowly. “It’s kind of hard to tell from this angle.” Her hands cradled her stomach as she picked her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes sparkling brightly as you stopped in front of her. “I have a surprise for you!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “Was… Was the pregnancy not the… surprise?” She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk, bringing your wrist in a gentle grip, and guided you to the room off to the side.

The room off the living room was a familiar mystery, a door you’d seen countless times but never put much thought into it. It seemed like just another storage space or perhaps unused territory. Until now. The assortment of wood, varied in shapes and colors, drew your attention immediately. A lone rocking chair sat to the side, and the walls were adorned in cheerful, childlike paint. It begged the question - how did this room come into existence? The pregnancy revelation had been mere moments ago, so how had Wanda managed to set up this nursery so quick?

“Sit down.” Wanda’s directive wasn’t optional, and you found yourself complying. Seeking comfort in the rocking chair, you observed as Wanda worked her magic, fingers wiggling to deftly assemble the pieces of wood into a crib. Your thoughts shifted from questioning the room’s origin to wondering where all this baby furniture had come from. It’s not like you had a dismantled crib lying around… did you?

Your gaze dropped to the book in your hands, lips pressed together in contemplation as you opened it.

“What does the book say?” Wanda’s soothing voice cut through your thoughts, prompting you to lift your head and meet her warm eyes. Her smile was soft, giving no hint of concern. She seemed genuinely happy about this whole parenting journey, and it left you grappling with the enormity of it all.

“You’re, um…” Your eyes flickered back to the book, scanning the page you’d opened to. “Morning… sickness.”

“We’ve already dealt with that stage,” Wanda breathed out, a soft laugh woven into her voice. With a casual wave of her hand, decorations levitated about the crib. “What else?”

“Uh, m- mood swings,” you mentioned, raising an eyebrow. “Aching back and… and feet.” Glancing back up at her, you swiftly rose from your seat. “Do… Do you hurt?” You gestured toward the rocking chair, then placed a firm hand on its back to halt any inadvertent rocking. “You shou- Sit down.”

Wanda dismissed your concern - and your attempt at being assertive - with a shake of her head. “Don’t be silly, dove. All I feel is excitement!” Her wide grin soon dimmed, forming an ‘O’ of shock as her gaze dropped to her belly.

“Wh- What? What’s wrong?” You took a tentative step toward her, then redirected your attention to the book, rapidly flipping through the pages. The doctor had claimed all the answers, but how were you supposed to find them if you didn’t even know the right questions?

“Y/N, sweetheart…” Wanda’s fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, halting your quest through the book. Your body melted at her touch as she drew you closer and closer, until your palm pressed against her belly. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the baby’s kick against your hand, your eyes wide… and smile even wider.

You leaned in closer to her, the tip of your nose gently brushing against the fabric concealing the bump of her stomach. “D- Do it again,” you whispered, laughing excitedly when you felt the push against you once more.

“He’s certainly a mama’s boy,” Wanda murmured softly, her eyes filled with a radiant warmth as you sank to your knees. The book lay forgotten on the floor as you pressed your other hand against her, and Wanda sensed a soothing calmness wash over her, seeing the joy she felt mirrored on your face. No more traces of concern or anxiety hiding in the lines around your eyes; just pure, unadulterated happiness.

“What… What does it… feel like to you?” You lifted your gaze to meet hers over the bump.

“It’s a… strange sensation,” she admitted, gently moving her hands to cover yours. “It’s kind of fluttery.” She chuckled, and as her laughter filled the room, the butterfly mobile hanging above the crib came to life, wings flapping in a graceful dance to the melodic sound emanating from Wanda. “Oh, did I do that?” With a sense of wonder, you eased one of your hands from beneath Wanda’s to hold a finger up, marveling at the beautiful insect as it perched lightly on you. Moving with delicate care, you placed the butterfly on top of Wanda’s belly, a proud and tender smile gracing your face.

“She’s… She’s going to be… gentle,” you murmured, meeting her gaze once more, “like you, Wands. A… butterfly.”

“She?” Wanda watched as you rose to your feet, briskly rubbing your hands together.

“I… I’m hoping for a… a girl,” you confessed sheepishly. “We can… name her after Nat. Is… that okay?”

Wanda reached up, the tips of her fingers delicately tracing the contours of your forehead and down your cheek. “We can definitely do that,” she assured with a tender smile, “but what if we get a boy?”

Your lips pursed together briefly before saying, “Wh- What would you… name him?”

She pondered for a moment, then leaned forward. “Tommy,” she answered. “A nice, classic, all-American name.”

“T- Tommy.” She felt her heart flutter as the name rolled off of your tongue. And she could’ve sworn she had flat-lined when you smiled after taking a moment to process it. “I… I like it.”

“But you’re still hoping for a girl,” Wanda pointed out, and you nodded unashamed, a broad grin of pride on your face as you walked out of the room with your head held high, causing Wanda to chuckle happily.

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“Wands.” She lifted her head at the sound of your voice, noticing you standing in the doorway of the kitchen, your nose buried in that book in your hands. A small smile played on her lips as she wiped her hands onto a towel, humming a response. “A- Are you going to the… bakery?” you inquired, picking your head up to meet her gaze as you stepped further into the room.

She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, tilting her head with a hint of confusion. “No?” A light chuckle accompanied her answer. “Why would I go to the bakery?”

You grinned, “Because you… you have a bun in the… oven.” Her soft laughter filled the air, a sound that brought a flutter to your gut as you moved closer. Placing the book onto the counter, you leaned against it. “Do you need… help? Are you… hungry? The book says that pregnant women get… weird cravings.”

“I’m okay, dove,” she assured lightly, smiling warmly as she reached over to stroke a thumb across your cheek. “I’ll tell you what, though. How about I make us some popcorn, and we can catch up on some-” Suddenly, she grasped her belly, a gasp escaping her lips. You straightened up, eyebrows furrowing with concern as you reached out to support her.

“Wands?”

“Does your book say anything about this?” she asked, gripping the edge of the counter. “It’s not painful, but it’s odd.” Panic flickered in her eyes, her worry evident.

Before you can say anything, the lights in the room began to flicker. The microwave behind you beeped rapidly, and the smell of popcorn filled the air. The kitchen faucet started to run, water building up in the sink and pouring over the edge onto the floor. Despite everything happening around you, your focus remained on your wife. You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She watched you closely and followed your lead, grabbing your hand as the two of you took a moment to breathe.

The easing of contractions was evident as the vice-like grip she had on you gradually loosened. Simultaneously, the appliances around you ceased their malfunctioning, returning to their off state as she let out a deep exhale. A moment of relief passed, and her eyebrows twitched, a wide smile gracing her lips as she cleared her throat.

“How’d you do that?” she questioned.

“B- Braxton Hicks. Fake… False labor. I read it- The book says it can help with your… breathing exercises.”

But she shook her head, and your gaze turned into confusion. “How’d you manage to stay so calm,” she chuckled lightly. “That was… pretty impressive.”

You shrugged sheepishly, feeling you lose yourself in her shining emerald eyes. “I just… I saw you panicking and… and I wanted to help.” You placed another hand over hers, relishing in the comfort her touch brings to your palms. “We’re in this together… you and me. So… at least one of us has to stay… calm and think straight.” You released her, sending her a tender smile as you brought her face between your hands. “It was… It was my turn.” She blew out a soft sigh, and your small grin grew as you felt her breath caress your chin like a delicate breeze. The way your eyes lit up, emitting a cozy warmth no fire could replicate, she knew what needed to be said…

“Y/N-” Her voice caught, noticing the small yawn you tried to conceal. Your exhaustion was now unmistakable, reflected in the weariness coloring your eyes. She pressed her lips together, exhaling softly before a small smile graced her face. “You need sleep.” Bewilderment took over your expression, evident in the deep furrow of your eyebrows. She laughed, placing her hands over yours to gently pull them away.

“Wands-”

“Come on.” With her fingers wrapped around yours, she led you out of the kitchen and into the living room. With each step, the stress that had built up over the day seemed to gradually evaporate into a sense of relaxation.

Sitting on the couch, she gently led you to lie down, guiding you effortlessly. Your head found a comfortable spot on her lap, and as you breathed deeply, content, you looked up into her soft, warm eyes. Her fingernails traced soothing patterns across your forehead, lulling you into a deeper tranquility. “There’s…” You chewed the inside of your cheek, your thoughts momentarily scattered as if erased by the magic of her gaze. “There’s no… point,” you whispered.

“Trust me, baby,” her tone as gentle as her gaze. “Just try.” You sighed softly, adjusting your position before allowing your eyes to flutter closed. Oblivious to the crimson wisps of smoke disappearing into your skin, and with Wanda’s soft hums reaching your ears, you felt yourself drift away into the void of dreams… only, it wasn’t quite so empty anymore.

Wanda always found solace in watching your peaceful slumber, even if it did sound a bit creepy. In sleep, you weren’t burdened by the conscious efforts you made while awake. The realm of dreams she had opened for you offered a sanctuary where you could be entirely yourself, free from the shadows of anxiety that haunted your waking moments. It was a place where the exhausting overthinking ceased, and you could simply let go.

She cherished this moment, yearning for it to stretch into eternity. The gentle caresses of her nails against your forehead, the soothing hums that filled the air - she didn’t want to stop any of it. Above all, she dreaded the mere thought of you waking up, shattering this serene intermission. So delightful. So calming. So… soothing…

An elusive shift unfolded, as she shut her eyes for what she thought was a brief moment, only to open them to a radiant light. It appeared she had slept through the night and into the early morning, with the rays of sunshine illuminating the room. The weight on her lap almost tempted her back into slumber. As her hand, nestled in the crook of your collarbone, meandered downward, she jolted awake when her fingers met an unexpected searing heat.

Wait… heat?

Her eyes shifted downward, and her heart surged into her throat. The luminous glow she had mistaken for daylight was emanating from you. The warm, yellow light gently bathed the room, casting a surreal ambiance that mimicked the morning sun perfectly. Wanda’s concern deepened as she focused on your sleeping form, realizing that something potentially worrying was unfolding right beneath her.

Your face contorted with subtle twitches, and your eyes moved restlessly beneath your closed lids. It hadn’t occurred to Wanda until now that her ability to unlock the dream realm didn’t necessarily shield you from unsettling nightmares. After all, nightmares were dreams as well. Her protective instincts surged, and she gently rested a hand against your cheek, whispering your name with a mix of worry and care.

“Y/N.” Her voice was a hushed murmur.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the soft glow surrounding you seemed to dim as you blinked, evidently disoriented. Confusion etched your expression as you gazed up at Wanda, furrowing your brows in bewilderment. Scanning the room as if trying to piece together where you were, your thoughts ran rampant, quietly grappling to make sense of the situation.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s hands instinctively retreated as you sat up, confusion lingering on your features as you rose to your feet. She mirrored your movements, tension tightly wrapping around her heart as she observed the careful way your eyes traced the protective placement of her hands around her belly. “Dove.”

In an instant, your grin surfaced. The uncertainty that had clouded your face vanished as if it had never existed. Your eyes sparkled with a newfound light, your smile radiated warmth, and your shoulders relaxed. Nevertheless, Wanda’s unease lingered, and she couldn’t divert her curious gaze from you.

“Are you… Are you hungry?” You perked up, but she wasn’t oblivious to the glimmer of concern in your eyes. “I… I can make you a sandwich.” Without waiting for her response, you swiftly made your way to the kitchen. But just as you reached the doorway, you heard her gasp from behind. “Wands?” You turned, your hands nervously rubbing together. “Wh- What is it?”

“This is a real one,” she expressed.

“A- Already?” 

“Y/N.”

“Wands, I… I thought there was more… more time.” Panic started to seize your eyes, your arms once again taking on that vibrant yellow glow. She slowly guided you into doing some calming breathing exercises, moving closer to take your hands in hers.

You followed her lead, taking deep breaths until the glowing subsided. “Better,” she whispered.

“What- Should I get the… doctor?”

Before she could answer, thunder violently shook the house, and the room was suddenly drenched in rain. She met your wide-eyed gaze and offered you the softest smile you’d ever seen in such an intense moment. “I’m pretty sure my water just broke, dove, so I do believe it’s time to get the doctor.”

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You found yourself rooted at the front door, almost paralyzed by the sudden realism. It had all happened so quickly. Everything. It was like blinking and finding yourself here. How could you have seen this one coming? Confined within the walls of a HYDRA lab, never daring to dream of a life beyond. And then, out of nowhere, fate had found you. Like a lost child at a local flea market, you were scooped up by a patient woman and a suspicious man. It felt like just yesterday. As if you had only just tasted your first French fry. As if you had witnessed the sunset for the first time. And now… here you were, listening to the cries of a newborn and watching your wife cradle the other one. Yes, the other one.

Twins. Could you believe it?

“Dove.” You snapped out of your daze at the sound of Wanda’s voice, her soft smile a balm to your racing thoughts. “Come meet your boys.” It shouldn’t have caught you off guard with how many times you had thought it, but it did. Your boys. Hearing it out loud from someone else made it different. It made everything more real, more tangible, in a way that your own thoughts hadn’t.

Your steps were hesitant, slow, as if you were walking into a moment you’d long been preparing for (which, in reality, was only two days). The moment to meet one of your children face to face, to let the panic subside, just as the doctor had assured you…

But as you reached the bassinet, as you looked into the eyes of your baby, that panic which had become your unwanted companion seemed to intensify. His tiny hands appeared to reach out for you, and you found yourself frozen once more. Your fists clenched, your jaw locked. What if holding your own child triggered an uncontrollable overload? The idea of putting your children in danger was unthinkable. How could you protect them when you were the weapon?

Wanda was suddenly next to you, the other baby still cradled in her arms, her focus fixed on the one lying in wait in the bassinet before you. “Y/N-”

“I- I- I- I… can’t.” Disappointment, shame, and guilt, all flooded through you as you shook your head adamantly, tears pricking your eyes, tugged at your nose, and painted your cheeks a deep shade of red. Wanda’s gaze snapped onto you, her irises soft with understanding, but you were walking away long before she could speak a word.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a resounding click, then leaned against the sink and stared down at the faucet. What were you doing? You were allowing your fear of potential overloads to keep you from even attempting to hold your newborn child. You had mastered your control over your powers, hadn’t you? …hadn’t you? Were you willing to test that?

A soft knock echoed through the room, and you lifted your gaze to meet your reflection in the mirror. Your complexion appeared pale, bearing a bluish hue. A chilling sensation seemed to wrap around your body. It suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe as you slowly lowered your gaze, an eerie emptiness occupied the hole in your chest where your heart should be.

A hand gently landed on your shoulder, pulling you out of whatever nightmare you had fallen into. In the mirror, your image reverted to your usual self with your heart intact. “Y/N?” You met her reflection’s eyes for a fleeting second before you pivoted to face her. You cleared your throat, mustered a half-smile, and focused. “Did you hear what I said?” She regarded you with a hint of skepticism as you shook your head. “I know physical contact makes you uncomfortable, but there are other ways to express your love for them.”

“Like… what?”

“Well,” she hummed, gently taking your hand and directing you out of the bathroom, leading you on a leisurely stroll back to the living room, “what did you do with the boys at the compound?”

Furrowing your brows, you concentrated on her question, and she chuckled softly as she noticed your struggle to give her a response.

“You spent time with Tony in his lab.” You always sensed a hint of loneliness in Tony. You even picked up a thing or two from him since he did all of the talking. “You listened to Clint gush about his family all the time.” Learning more about Clint’s family and the gleam in his eyes when he spoke about them always brought a smile to your face. “You lightened Steve’s load by going through all the mission reports.” Not being on the team gave you a glimpse of the tremendous responsibility Steve carried as the captain. You thought helping him by taking on some of the mission reports would make his life a bit easier. “You’d bring Bruce a coffee whenever he worked late.” Bruce often got lost in his work, and though you only ever had one-way conversations with him - much like the others - you recognized that he couldn’t be pulled away from it. Bringing him coffee was your way of offering support. “You even made everybody your delicious peanut butter sandwiches when they returned from a mission.” They were always too exhausted to make something themselves, and you’d noticed just how hungry Natasha was after an assignment. You presumed the rest of the team felt the same.

With a hint of confusion, you looked at her. “What does… that have to do with anything?”

“Those are all ways to express affection without physical touch, Y/N, because you showed you cared enough to go out of your way to be there.” She guided you to stand in front of the bassinets, where the boys slept peacefully. “You don’t need to hold them… You just need to be there for them.”

“I… I can do that,” you expressed firmly, nodding confidently. Wanda smiled softly, entwining her arm with yours and drawing you close. “I’m sorry I… missed the birth. I was trying to find the… doctor, but he was already…”

“It’s okay, my dove. You didn’t miss anything exciting,” she assured with a soft chuckle, stepping back to sit on the couch, pulling you down next to her. “Just a lot of screaming and crying. Mostly from me.” You grinned, laughing lightly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

“How did you… do it by yourself?” You nestled your cheek against the top of her head, and she inhaled deeply. 

“Geraldine helped me.” It was said automatically, and you felt her hold on your arm tense very briefly before she added, “It’s a shame she had somewhere to be, though. You would think you’d want to spend a bit more time with the babies you helped deliver.”

You stared at the two bassinets sitting in front of you, holding your twin boys. “I didn’t… expect two.”

“We still need to name the other one,” she pointed out, picking her head up to look at you, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off of the cradles. “I know you were hoping for a girl, but-”

“W… William.” You sniffled as you finally turned to meet her gaze, showing her the way your eyes glistened with fresh tears. You smiled at her, but she wasn’t oblivious to the sorrow you were trying to hide in that grin. “After my first… friend.” Her lips pursed together tightly as memories resurfaced.

“Tommy and Billy.” She settled back on the couch, leaning her head against the cushion. “I don’t think there’s a better pair of names than that.”

Your smile broadened, the earlier sadness she had noticed now replaced by genuine happiness. “Wanda and… Y/N.” She tilted her chin to look at you to see a teasing glint in your eyes. “A… A close second… right?”

She chuckled lightly, the melodious sound warming the room. “You’re adorable,” she whispered. Leaning closer, your noses brushed, and your lips hover tantalizingly close. But the sudden cries of the babies broke the moment. Wanda let out a sigh, still smiling, and rose to attend to their needs.

You followed her, standing by her side as she scooped one of the babies in her arms, swaying gently as she held him against her chest. You cleared your throat, looking away from Wanda to lean over the bassinet in an effort to soothe the other little one, but your attempt at rocking the cradle just seemed to make it worse as his wails only grew louder in unison with his brother.

Wanda tried everything in her repertoire to calm down Tommy. She hummed soft lullabies, swayed gently, rubbed his back, and even attempted some bouncing, but nothing seemed to ease his crying. She felt a growing sense of helplessness as her boys’ sobs echoed through the room.

Then, a hushed relief passed her lips as Tommy’s cries began to wane. However, as she shifted her attention from the baby in her arms to the one she had left with you, it was then that she realized it wasn’t Tommy that had settled down, but Billy, and her heart skipped a beat when her eyes landed on you.

You were standing beside the bassinet, your arm extended, eyes squeezed shut incredibly tight, and a soft, yellow glow emanated from within the cradle. Panic initially surged within Wanda, but it swiftly receded as she took a step forward to take in the full scene.

Billy was eagerly reaching out one of his tiny hands, aiming to touch the bright, glowing object before him. His wide eyes radiated a contagious joy, and an adorable smile painted his little face. Wanda couldn’t help but exhale softly, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed you just being there for your son.

“Y/N,” she began gently, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“I… panicked. I’m so… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, dove. Just take a look.” You hesitantly obeyed her, opening one eye, then the other, a sigh of relief escaping as you realized that your child was unharmed. You stood up, your grin returning, but as you pulled your arm away, Billy’s cries resumed, matching Tommy’s once more.

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Wanda mused, gently laying the baby back into his own bassinet. She smiled, glancing over at you. “Do you think you’re willing to do that all day?”

You met her gaze. “We… We’re new at this, Wands. I… I think we just need more time.”

“We just need some help.”

The front door swung open, and both of you turned to see Agnes confidently striding into the room. “Hello, kiddos,” she chimed, casting a broad smile toward the sobbing babies. She nonchalantly dropped a duffel bag onto the couch before approaching the two of you, resting her hands on her hips. “I was just on my way to yoga when I heard your new little bundles of joy were on a sleep strike.”

A perplexed frown creased your forehead. “Who… told you that?” 

“Uh… my ears,” she retorted matter-of-factly, causing you and Wanda to exchange a bemused glance. Agnes leaned over the cribs. “Anyway, Auntie Agnes has arrived, and I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to settle fussy newborns.”

“A- Auntie…?” you began, your curiosity piqued.

“You’re a lifesaver, Agnes!” Wanda interjected.

You watched as your nosy neighbor eagerly rubbed her hands together, ready to work her magic in soothing the bawling babies. Clearing your throat, you cautiously stepped forward to gain her attention. “Okay, but just… Don’t forget to… support their heads.” You gave Agnes a pointed look as you took another step closer. “And… When was the last time you… washed your ha- Wait, Wands, I… I don’t think we should let her…” You moved yourself in between her and the cribs, shielding your children from the woman.

The once wide smile on Agnes’s face faded, replaced by a hint of uncertainty. In the meantime, the incessant crying that had been dominating the house for hours began to gradually subside. “Um…” Agnes hesitated, then turned to Wanda, and the room fell into complete and utter silence. “Do you want me to take that again?”

“Sorry?” Wanda’s expression bunched together with confusion as you looked at her, exchanging perplexed glances with you and Agnes.

Agnes tilted her head, scoffing out an awkward laugh. “You want me to hold the babies. Should we just take it from the top?” She casually picked up her gym bag, her gaze shifting between you and Wanda.

“Wh- What?” Your own confusion mirrored Wanda’s.

Wanda couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, waving her hand dismissively as she approached you. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” she encouraged you with a smile. “Let’s let Agnes give it a try.” The babies’ cries grew once more, and Wanda guided you aside, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. You observed Agnes behind her, rocking the cribs, mixing her baby-handling duties with lunges.

“Wands-” you began, your concern still evident.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both going insane from the crying, Y/N,” Wanda remarked.

“They… just started,” you pointed out, studying her emerald eyes. “Did you… really not see that?”

Wanda’s brows furrowed subtly, her lips forming a tight line. She laid a delicate hand against your cheek, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “Dove, the boys haven’t slept in days,” she reasoned. “We’re all tired and we all need a break.”

“It’s… It’s been less than a… day…?” You shook your head, gently removing her hand from your face. “Wands, I- Do you… hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything,” Wanda said, walking towards the cribs, perplexed by your sudden shift in focus. However, movement on the stairs pulled your eyes in a different direction.

You turned to find two young boys, side by side, standing on the bottom step, gazing at you and Wanda with wide, expectant eyes.

“Mommy?”

“Mama?”

“Kids,” Agnes chuckled, her tone filled with amusement as she sat on the counter, a glass of dark amber liquid in her hand, which she raised in a toast. “You can’t control ‘em! No matter how hard you try…” She took a long sip of her drink, and you furrowed your brows as you turned your attention back to your sons.

“Do they… usually grow this fast?” you whispered as both boys rushed towards Wanda, eagerly wrapping their arms around her legs in a tight hug. You watched, running a thumb across the scar marking your palm.

“At least they’re not crying anymore, sweetheart,” Wanda pointed out with a smirk. She met your gaze, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as she added, “We can finally get the sleep we all desperately need.”

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Wanda descended the stairs with a gentle, measured stride. Her eyes found you almost instantly, curled up on the couch with your sketch journal resting against your knees. A pencil danced graceful across the pages, creating professional, elegant strokes. She tried to sneak a peek at your latest artwork, but the creak of a floorboard under her weight dragged you from your creative trance. You swiftly pulled the journal out of her view, and she regarded you with curiosity but chose not to press further.

“Where are the boys?” she inquired.

“They’re in… the kitchen,” you responded, using the eraser-end of your pencil to indicate the other room. “I heard the… sink running. It seems like they’re doing the… the dishes.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Just so you know, kids never willingly do chores, dove.”

“Oh… Well, I…” You dropped your journal on the vacant cushion beside you and quickly rose, setting the pencil atop it. “I can go… check on them.” You flashed her an innocent smile, your eyes bright and enthusiastic. Wanda crossed her arms, giving you a skeptical look. “I… I got this.”

“Alright,” she agreed, nodding. “I’ll give you five minutes, but you better be bad cop this time, Y/N. The last time I let you try to discipline them, you gave them ice cream before dinner.”

“They… They have your eyes, Wands,” you confessed quietly, causing her to laugh lightly as you made your way into the kitchen. The boys stood at the sink, turning at the sound of your approach to block whatever was happening behind them. 

Wanda watched you cross your arms over your chest, and she smiled softly as she watched you attempt to be assertive. She knew she was going to have to walk in before the five minutes were up otherwise you’d end up giving the boys a unicorn, but curiosity nagged at her as she turned to look at your art book. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she reached over the cushions to grab onto the journal, flipping to the last page you were drawing… and she felt her stomach tighten at the nearly-finished, monochromatic image on the paper.

Your eyes remained closed, the hushed sadness in your face accentuated by the delicate graphite strokes. A lone tear meandered down your cheek, a poignant contrast against the muted backdrop. But the most striking element was the chasm in your chest, a vividly rendered void that laid bare your absent heart with a stark yet haunting elegance.

A gasp caught in her through, and a rush of emotion welled up, stinging her nose with the threat of tears. Her body froze, as if turned to stone, her feet anchored to the ground. But then, a single, unexpected bark pierced through the wall of fear that had started to build, shattering it and snapping her out of her daze. With a quick, decisive motion, she tore the paper from the journal and tucked it safely into her pocket.

She steeled herself, cleared her throat to dispel the lingering remnants of fear, and ventured into the kitchen. Her movements halted abruptly as her eyes fell upon the small dog cradled in your arms.

“And who’s this?” She stepped up beside you, resting her hands on her hips as she assessed the dog and then her sons.

“We haven’t named him yet,” Billy explained.

“Name him?”

“Mama said we can keep him,” Tommy chimed in, his excitement evident. This news prompted Wanda to slowly turn toward you, her brow arching impressively, her arms crossing over her chest. Your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat as you faced the boys.

“I-” The back door swung open, and once again, Agnes entered the room, brandishing a dog collar in her hand.

“Hey, kiddos. I noticed you two got a new pooch! I’ve got just the thing you need.” She extended her arm, offering the collar to you, and you began to reach for it. But Wanda swiftly intervened, snatching the collar from Agnes.

“If we put a collar on him, then it’s official,” she pointed out, giving you another meaningful look.

“Uh, boys… Your mother and I… We don’t think you’re ready to… care for an animal until you’re at least…”

“Ten,” Wanda coughed under her breath.

“Ten… years old,” you confirmed with a firm nod.

As the twins exchanged a sly glance, Wanda made an effort to halt their rapid aging, but your attention flickered toward Agnes as they persisted. She remained unphased when Tommy and Billy transformed from innocent five-year-olds into mischievous ten-year-olds. Her response was far from astonished; she simply chuckled, folded her arms, and remarked, “Let’s hope that dog stays the same size.”

While the boys engaged in a spirited debate over a name, you peered down at the little creature cradled in your arms, completely oblivious to Wanda’s keen observation. When you gently set the dog onto the floor, she grasped your elbow before you could leave. Leaning closer, her voice was a hushed murmur in your ear, “What’s going on?”

“I… don’t…” Your head swiveled to meet her inquisitive gaze. “I just… I need some… air.” You exhaled softly, your arm slipped from her grasp as you continued toward the door, just as Tommy called for her attention.

Wanda’s search for you was swift, but her escape from the house proved more challenging. Every time she made a move toward the door, the boys required her assistance with something. By the time she finally set foot in For Art’s Sake, the moon had already claimed the night sky.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she felt relief flood over her like a gentle stream as she spotted you seated on the bench across from your painting. Her eyes flickered to the plaque underneath it.

“The Scarlet Sorceress” Y/N Romanoff

It was nice of Ralph to change the nameplate. Your gaze wasn’t fixed on the artwork, though; instead, you were gently rubbing your palm, as if the scar was a mere pencil mark and your thumb, the eraser. You didn’t look up when she took a seat beside you, nor did you react as she cleared her throat to make her presence known. Her eyes met her own in the painting, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Where are… Are the boys okay?”

“They’re sleeping, but Agnes is still at the house.”

Nothing. Your refusal to meet her gaze hung heavily in the air, creating a tension that could suffocate her if it were able to. She disliked the sudden distance that had grown between you.

“Care to talk to me?” She broke the second wave of silence this time, her tone gentle but concerned. It was evident that you were making no effort to provide any response. The longer you stayed quiet, the tighter the knot twisted in her stomach. She needed to do something, say something to encourage you to open up. It was unfamiliar territory; usually, you were more than willing to share your thoughts with her. But this time, things had shifted. You were closing yourself off, and she could see the protective walls you were constructing.

She needed to destroy them before you finished.

Releasing a short breath, she dipped her hand into her pocket, producing a folded piece of paper. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and began to unfold it, her peripheral vision catching the slight turn of your head. “Is it this?” She unveiled your self-portrait, turning her attention to you, observing that you were now fixated on the artwork in her hands. “Y/N-”

“I… died… didn’t I?” You returned your gaze to your hands. “I… I remember. Nat. She showed me. In my… dreams.”

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “Nat seems to be showing you a lot of stuff,” she commented.

“T- Thanos. He… got the stone, didn’t he?” You sniffled, your brows knitting together in thought. “I… I died. And… Nat died…” You cleared your throat. “You… brought me back?”

She let out a deep sigh, relief washing over her once more. But why was she feeling relieved?

“You left a hole where my heart should be, Y/N, and I just… wanted to fill it up.” Your eyes shifted back to the drawing in her hands, and you emitted a dry chuckle. She exhaled in frustration, reaching out to grasp your hands to prevent you from fidgeting with your scar. But you swiftly withdrew from her, standing up and pacing forward. “Are you angry with me for bringing you back to life?”

“I- I don’t know.” You inhaled shallowly, exhaling rapidly. “I just… I… I need to… breathe, Wands… Please.” She leaned against the wall, her shoulders slumping, as you headed for the exit. She glanced back at the drawing in her hands once more, then shook her head, clenched her jaw, and began to chase after you.

“Y/N.” She caught up to you outside as you stepped onto the street. You paused, her voice holding you back, and she disregarded the single, cool raindrop landing on her cheek as she crossed the distance to reach you. “Please just talk to me, baby.”

“Why… me?” You turned to face her, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. More raindrops fell from the sky. “You c- could’ve brought anybody back. Like… V- Vision. But you… you chose me- Why didn’t you change me? Make me more… more confident. M- More… better? Why am I still… me?” you asked, your voice tinged with insecurity and self-doubt. Wanda moved closer, her eyes radiating warmth, her expression gentle. “I… I can’t be who you want me to be, Wands.” You huffed. “I’m… I’m not a people person. I can’t even… hug our own children.” You shook your head as if trying to shake the tears away from your eyes, but they continued to well up. “We tried- I tried. You… You deserve somebody who can… be with you, inside the house… and out.” Rain now poured down, a storm enveloping you both. Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning briefly illuminating the area. You sighed, your gaze drifting away from her to your hands. “You could’ve… made me that kind of- of person.”

Her head tilted to the side as she watched you intently. She gently clasped your wrist, ignoring your surprised look, and brought your hand close to her mouth. “I didn’t change you because I didn’t want you to change. You are exactly the person I want, just the way you are,” she declared, her voice ringing above the rain but her words a soft breath against your skin. “The Y/N I met all those years ago was already better than anyone I’ve ever known. And you’ve only become more perfect with time.” She placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the permanent mark on your palm, a smile gracing her lips as she added, “Scars and all.”

She couldn’t tell whether you’d finally let those tears escape, not with the raindrops tracing down your cheeks. Yet, the way you exhaled and gazed at her indicated that perhaps you had. She sensed those emotional barriers you’d been constructing beginning to crumble as you moved closer, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like a blaze amidst the cool rain shower drenching both of you.

Amidst the brief symphony of thunder overhead, she knew that the sensible choice would be to break the kiss. To seek shelter from the rain. But instead, she defied this logic, her arms winding around your neck, pulling you closer to her, deepening the embrace as raindrops continued to fall and lightning continued to streak the sky.

Soon, she found herself chasing your lips as you pulled back slightly, and you ultimately rested your forehead against hers to quell the temptation. “We should… go home,” you whispered, and she nodded, your breaths mingling as you locked eyes. “Wands, I-” Just then, a louder clap of thunder seemed to shake the ground, forcing you apart. She beamed at your laughter, reaching for your hand as you looked up at the sky. She tugged you down the street, hand in hand, heading home. Together.

The door closed just as lightning illuminated the sky behind her, casting playful shadows on the wall. The rain had left you both drenched, but you paid little attention to it as you tugged her close, caught up in the embrace. The world outside faded away, and the fact that you were dripping wet ceased to matter, all except for a pair of eyes that observed you from the kitchen.

“Looks like you’ve figured things out in paradise,” Agnes chimed in, her voice breaking the intimate moment. Your muscles tensed, and Wanda let out an embarrassed laugh. “Don’t worry about me, dears. I’m just glad to see you both okay.” She grinned knowingly before adding, “I should get home. Thunderstorms don’t only affect the two of you, you know.” With a wink, she slipped out through the back door into the kitchen, leaving you with a sense of curiosity. You turned to Wanda, confusion written across your face.

“You don’t want to know,” she reassured you before you could question further. 

You pursed your lips together, hesitant, conflicted. She watched you with patience as you worked the situation out in your mind. And then you finally spoke, “Do you think that we can… There’s something else I- I need to tell you.”

“Okay, dove,” she said, pulling you back to her. “But let’s dry off before we turn our home into a puddle.”

“I’ll grab… some towels,” you replied and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Then, you dashed upstairs, leaving her with a contented smile as she took a step forward.

However, the moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Wanda turned to open it, and her gasp matched the rain’s now-gentle patter outside. Before her stood a man, his presence triggering a mix of emotions. She couldn’t find her voice, and her heart raced as she watched the man throw his arms up in the air.

“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?”

“Pietro?” Her voice quivered as her brother stepped forward, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Oh.”

While they embraced, the floorboards behind them creaked, and you emerged on the scene, towels in hand. Uncertainty was etched across your features. As the siblings broke apart, Pietro sent you a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s the maid?”

Chapter 4

[a-simple-imagine]

That Warm Christmas Feeling

Synopsis: Your spending the holidays with Jordan but you wake up feeling hot…

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

Words: 1k+

A/N - Happy holidays my lovelies. I woke up feeling absolutely awful which sucks but here’s a little gift. It's short and messy but enjoy.

WARNINGS - swearing

a blanket of white snow paved the way for joyful celebration and family festivities. the festive season had been deep in your bones since late November. the cheesy Christmas movies. the bright flashing lights. and jolly old men in beards. you never cared much for the festive season by any means, it almost seemed like too much but you were making a conscious effort to try and enjoy it. you want the first holiday season together to feel even just a little special. you had been dragging them along to all kinds of festive events. you had been ice skating and drank hot chocolate. Christmas shopping around the markets. it was all just fun and games. the main event was to take place at their home. your first time meeting their parents. it seemed like such a big step for a rather new relationship but you weren’t against the idea. it would be fun.

a loud groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back. a dull ache settles deep in your bones. a thick fog invades your head as your brain throbs. a blocked, tickly nose. great. you’re sick. on Christmas day of all days. you pull the covers up over your head to escape the sun peaking through the windows. couldn’t have picked a worse day. “good morning,” whispered in your ear. there’s an edge of excitement to their voice. their hand comes up to remove the duvet and reveal your less-than-pleased expression. You move away from them, burying your fave deeper into the pillow. “You good? I thought you'd be more excited. My parents have a full day planned, you're gonna love it.”

A pit of guilt or nausea grows in your stomach. You really wanna get up and enjoy the day but you also just wanna go back to sleep. “Please don't be mad,” you mumble against the fabric of the pillow.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I feel like shit,” you admit. “I think I'm sick.”

“Oh,” there's a pause that almost allows you to drift off again. “That's shit.”

“I’m sorry,”

“no no don’t be,” they reassure you. “You should stay in bed if you're not feeling up to it.”

“is that okay?” you ask quietly.

“Sure, they’ll understand. go back to sleep and I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?” your only answer is a slow nod that pushes the fabric of the pillow roughly across your cheek. The door clicks shut and you drift off into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

The time is a mystery when your eyes flicker open next. The world doesn't feel real as your head hammers with an uncertain pain. You sniffle as you fall onto your back. That's when you spot Jordan approaching with a steaming hot beverage in their hand. “How you feeling?” you just groan extra loudly emphasising just how awful you felt about the entire situation. “so good then yeah,” the bed dips beside you and he reaches over with a free hand to check your head. you don’t feel particularly hot so it probably wasn’t a fever. “Mom made you some tea, said it’d fix you right up but don’t feel like you have to.”

pushing up into a seated position, Jordan hands over a mug decorated with little Christmas trees and snowflakes. a heavy sigh leaves your lips. it really did feel like more effort than it was worth just sitting up straight. you take a cautious sip and warmth spills through your veins. “I feel like I ruined today,” you mumble into your cup. staring down at the swirling liquid. “I should have mentioned earlier.”

“you didn’t ruin anything,” Jordan expresses, a calming hand placed on your leg over the covers. “it’s not your fault you got sick.”

“I haven’t really felt great the last couple days but I thought it’d just go away.” you shrug, taking a much larger sip. “I really wanted to do Christmasy things with you. your parents probably think I’m awful.”

“They don’t think that,” they chuckle softly. “just focus on getting better and we can do Christmasy things tomorrow. they won’t mind.”

“thank you for the tea,” you reply handing back the drink.

“and besides,” he takes the drink back. “you’re giving me an excuse to get away from them. I need a break every now and then.“are you hungry?” you shake your head slowly. falling back down against the bed.

“tired.”

they just chuckle. “I’m gonna sit here a moment longer before I brace my parents again. just ignore me.”

the room is shrouded in darkness when Jordan enters once more. a crack of light filtering through the door. you don’t bother acknowledging them; just pull the thick duvet closer to your chest. a heavy sigh fills the air but it doesn’t come from you. the bed dips beside you. “are you awake?” they ask but you don’t bother answering. a silence a silence falls over the room as they shuffle about doing god only knows what. “I’m sorry you got sick,” Jordan speaks aloud. “I wish you could have spent the day with us. my parents can be a lot but they do go all out for Christmas… and I was looking forward to giving you your present,” their voice is quiet and you’re not sure if you should admit to being awake now. “my parents would have loved it. they’re already obsessed with you and they’re so happy I finally brought someone home. and I was gonna tell you I love you” After a moment you know they’re climbing into bed with you. an arm around your waist. you roll over to face them. “maybe tomorrow.”

“you’re gonna get sick,” mumbled out.

“I don’t mind,”

“Are you sure?”

“mhmm,” hummed softly and you don’t bother arguing. you just snuggle closer to his chest. they feel safe and comforting. a welcomed addition to your cosy domain. “I’m glad you’re here,”

“I’m glad you’re here,” you repeat against their chest. “and for what it’s worth. I… love you too.”

“you heard all that,” you don’t respond just shuffle further into his embrace. falling asleep to the sound of their heartbeat as a gentle kiss is pressed against your head.

[emblemxeno]

Cindered Shadows Thoughts

Btw if you don't wanna see thoughts on my 3H playthrough block this tag #playing fe3h

-Finished it in exactly 8 hours, at least 2 of which could've been an email /s

-It is truly a microcosm of my foundational issues with 3H as a whole, besides two things

-One is that exploration isn't as tedious because Abyss isn't as big as the monastery, but I guess that isn't really a point in its favor since that's the whole point lol

-The second is I feel like Byleth's dialogue and text selections with the characters is a bit better. There's less instances of , what I describe as "characters extrapolating how Byleth feels in 1-2 text boxes before actually responding to what they said", which I swear is a cause for why the main game reads as if it's 10% longer than it's supposed to be.

-IMO unique map objectives don't save map design that's pretty uninteresting at the end of the day.

The first map's layout is cool! Until it gets reused in chapter 4, where it's only saving grace is a new objective utilizing prior knowledge established in chapter 1. Clever, but still a reuse in a game that infamously spams repeat maps. And outside of Chapters 2 (a slog where you defeat enemies in waves which isn't fun in FE) and 7 (a cramped hall where you have to brace against a monster boss), the other maps are reused from the base game, even chapter 3 is a slightly modified sealed forest.

-Combat itself is so slow, I'm really just debating turning off animations in general when tackling the main game. Not only do the animations take forever, but they don't look interesting, are surrounded by washed out textures and models, and-my personal biggest grievance-have absolutely no momentum nor weight behind them. The Tellius games, from what I've seen, yeah the animations take decades, but from a visual and sound design point, fighting feels significant. 3H also being sandwiched between Echoes (the gorgeous culmination of handheld 3D Fire Emblem presentation after half a decade) and Engage (which to me set a new, high bar standard for 3D FE presentation going forward) is an extremely unfortunate situation and I feel really sorry for it.

-Music still hits though, Shackled Wolves never gets old

-Another thing that 3H does that this DLC reminds me of is the amount of -Stand Around- cutscenes there are. It confused me that Engage gets the most heat for this, when this game does it more, due to more drawn out dialogue, simpler camera angles, stiffer models with fewer animations, and an absolutely diabolical background setup. For a game with an expository selling point, it repeatedly falls short at being engaging in a visual sense, with its scenes always being saved by the phenomenal voice acting. Almost always, at least. The scenes where the Wolves are getting their blood drained while they just stand there is so jarring and bad, it's nearly funny, when it's obviously not supposed to be given the lines, their delivery, and the accompanying music.

-The story from A to B is sweet I guess, but given that the devs said the Cindered Shadows version of events is basically non-canon to what happens in the main game sours me on it. Like, yeah it's cool that the Wolves can technically be capable enough to do it offscreen on their own, but then what's the incentive then for me to recruit them beyond the player's pre-established care? There's no narrative payoff in the grand scheme :/

-Also the whole plot is "what if Yuri, Rhea and somewhat Claude/Linhardt do everything and also these other goobers are here" which became really funny, because after a while even the lines had characters deliberating the sheer amount of coincidences and melodrama that was occurring. 3H style writing shoved into an 8 hour timeframe is accelerated, exhausting nonsense.

-Sothis not being in the plot is fine, because even though it doesn't make sense why she wouldn't comment, it's not like there's anything of value she would contribute beyond her usual schtick of "bratty banter, where are my memories, i sleep now".

Not having Jeralt though? Absolutely ridiculous. I don't like Jeralt as a character (he's my idea of pretty face and that's it), but there's no convincing me why he couldn't be here but Alois can. Love Alois! But he was a device used to have the Knights on standby and nothing more, which Jeralt could've done and it would've let him have a proper impact on the ordeal with Aelfric.

Speaking of which, revisiting this DLC had me thinking... wow this love of Aelfric is veering very close to cult-like, and it's cut short after chapter 5 because we don't go back to abyss once that map's done. I'm left with wondering how the Abyss denizens would feel after knowing that their caretaker was Like That™️, which is a completely foreign feeling to me when discussing 3H's narrative since the game normally never lets it be remotely unclear how the characters or the player should feel about anything ever. So... props for that for making me flex that part of my brain! You did it Fodlan, the creepy custodian plotline that was left dangling was great fridge horror material.

-The constant suspicion throwing and animosity towards Rhea and the church is tiring as usual, and also sometimes downright baseless. Like, at one point it's said that orphans are among those who are relegated to Abyss or otherwise ignored on the surface which is flat out not fucking true, Rhea literally takes in former bandit kids and Remire orphans, what are we doing here.

-Balthus has a cringe "fight the system line" meanwhile he's an irresponsible jackass pushing 30; Constance is written like a joke; Hapi's writing is a joke; Yuri is as incomprehensibly competent and storied as ever and I love that cuz it's nonsense.

-Overall, not godawful terrible, but nothing in it that's worth coming back to in my eyes.

[gnreadergames]

Weird Science

Egon Spengler x Named FTM!Male Oc

Content warnings: Some sexual tension leading into non-graphic sexual content, mostly sickeningly sweet shit, Egon’s a lil crazy, Alex likes em cooky, doctor kink?? Is that a thing? Idk, either way a PHD title is used in a way no one should use a PHD title. Unless they are freaks like me :3

A/N: Crawling out of my hole I’ve been in for *checks watch* like almost a year to bring you this. I have no excuses guys I just rewatched my favorite movie and wanted to fuck the science man again. Super self indulgent, also for my trans readers because I’ve noticed a lot of yall thirsting after this man are trans. Congratulations my niche little subjects, here’s some food.

Word count: 13,971. - Yes you read that right. I just really wanted to write some gooey porn about the science man okay?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Egon Spengler sat alone in the firehouse, surrounded by the various specimen he had collected from a bust and the various machines created to catch and contain ghosts. He had just finished running diagnostics on the Proton Packs, fixing a bug that Peter had showed him on his, and was in the process of cataloging and tagging some new samples he had collected on their last bust of a succubus in a hotel.

Alex was quiet about accessing the stairs. The door to the bottom always squeaked but he made sure to pull it open extra slowly this time, and somehow successfully managed to make it all the way up to the top of the 2nd floor completely silently. Egon was perched at the main table in the kitchen up top. Its circular surface was covered with bagged petri-dishes, spore samples, and various robotic gadgets he guessed were for ghost hunting. He deftly approached from behind.

Egon’s head was down, nose intently tucked into whatever journal he was writing in now as Alex tiptoed up behind him and every so suddenly crouched down beside him to ear level and said, in a level inside voice, ‘Whatcha’ up to Spengs’?”.

Egon startled. It was Alex. It was rare for anyone to just come up behind him at the firehouse, but given recent events, he wasn't really surprised. He put down his pen, looking to get a better look at Alex.

"Hm? Oh, just going over the findings from our last bust. And the latest samples. It's all pretty...standard stuff, really. Nothing worth getting excited about."

“Yeah? Thought molds spores and fungi were your type of fun, guy-“ Alex laughed a little at his own joke, hand brushing the back of the chair and inadvertently brushing ever so briefly against Egon’s bare neck. Alex blushed slightly and hoped Egon was too focused to have noticed as he took a seat next to him.

Egon glanced up from his notes. Despite Alex making his presence very obvious, Egon had been so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed. Now, he was caught, and clearly flustered.

"Right. It's not that this sort of stuff isn't interesting. It's just..." He paused, trying to come up with the right words. "It's less exciting than seeing ghosts, you know? There's much less danger to it."

Alex cocked his head, curious. ”So is that why you do it?” He asked.

He thought for a moment, considering how to answer this question.

"In a sense, I suppose. There is always the hope that when I'm out investigating, I might encounter something truly new. Something unexpected and unpredictable. Something that could turn the whole study of ghosts on its head. And believe me, it's been a long time since we've had a true breakthrough in ghost related research."

“Is it the danger or is it the superiority? The control?” Alex blurted out without really thinking. When he realized what he said and how odd of a question it was “I just mean…” he stammered, “Do you think you like the danger, or do you like being in control? Do you like feeling powerful over the ghosts? Do you like the chase and the win? Kinda like a game…” Alex mumbled off, blushing. He felt like he only further incriminated himself into his line of thinking.

Egon laughed quietly. Clearly he wasn't offended by the question, even if it was a rather strange one. He was also more than a little intrigued.

"There is certainly an element of control, I must admit. I do like to think that I know what I'm doing out there." He paused, still smiling. "But at the same time, I'm also just as much at the mercy of the ghosts. There's always a certain...risk that I think I enjoy."

“Hm. You work in interesting ways ‘Spengs…” Alex hummed thoughtfully. His posture became a little more relaxed as he rested forward, chin on his elbow watching Egon tag samples and hum along to a janky radio he had sitting on an adjacent counter of the kitchen.

"Doctor Spengler, if you don't mind," Egon corrected, his tone only half-joking.

He glanced back down at his notes, making a few more small adjustments before finally setting the pen down.

"So you just...came over here to bother me while I work?"

“Mostly. It is my favorite pastime as you know.” Alex smirked, almost cat-like. Egon rolled his eyes, he knew the gentle teasing Alex put him through.

“Also, Doctor Spengler? What am I, one of your patients? Or do you just get a kick out of making people call you that?” Alex teased again, this time dropping his voice a little in a lusty tone that made him laugh trying to get it out in one piece.

Egon smirked, rolling his eyes in return. Alex's teasing was one of the things he actually did kind of enjoy.

”The latter, if I'm being perfectly honest. Not that I'll ever admit it."

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"But you have to admit, Doctor is a much nicer title than Mr. Or even Professor. That title's always been a little too pretentious for its own good," he continued to banter.

I like Mr. in…” Alex paused, looking pensively upwards, “certain contexts. Like if you were to get married. Mr. And Mrs. Or er, Mr. And Mr…” Alex said casually. He hadn’t formally come out to Egon but he knew Venkman’s little vermin hands had background checked him enough to know his dating preferences already and his gender. And to be fully honest, he liked Egon more than anybody else here, even if he’d only admit it under extreme duress, or maybe too much alcohol.

So he deserved to know.

Or maybe Alex was a little desperate to share practically anything about himself in hopes of getting closer to the other man.

Egon's eyebrow raised slightly, hearing this. Alex hadn't come out to him directly, but this felt pretty obvious. It wasn't an issue to Egon anyway, but he was curious to know now.

"Alex...are you telling me you're interested in...men?"

He cleared his throat, his tone a bit nervous. He wasn't sure how to react.

“Oh-“ Alex hadn’t expected Egon to ask him so directly. But then again, he never was one for taking hints. “Yeah, I am.”

His face was redder than usual and it was obvious Egon’s bluntness had caught him slightly off guard and flustered him.

“I hope that isn’t a problem with you. I really like…spending time with you Egon.” Alex said. He wanted to leave it vague, for now at least. He didn’t even know if Egon was into men, let alone if Egon considered him a friend let alone a potential romantic interest. He didn’t want to jump the guns too fast here.

Egon looked at him, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Alex...I have no problem with it. I'm very happy to spend time with you as well. I just...wasn't expecting you to say that."

For a moment, he seemed like he was going to say something more. But he held back, thinking better of it, clearly not sure what to actually say right now.

"Just didn't have you pegged as one who...preferred men's company."

“Oh really?” Alex laughed, he could lighten the mood up a bit hopefully. “What did you have me pegged for then, ‘Spengs?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows curiously.

Egon laughed quietly as well.

"Well, you seem like you'd have an eye for the ladies." He grinned, still in an obviously good-natured way. "If you're into guys, then you're not exactly...what I would call 'typically gay' looking."

“Well…thanks?” Alex laughed. “I’m into women too, so I guess I would be in the middle of whatever spectrum you’re thinking of.”

He crumpled up a loose straw wrapper from Egon’s ginger ale and started to flick it back and forth between his fingers, nervously.

Egon nodded. He didn't seem all that surprised by this; if anything he had always got the sense that Alex was at least a little bit bi-curious, given some of the conversations they'd had.

"Right. The ol' 'bisexual' thing." He joked.

Suddenly he looked at Alex again, with an expression of sudden realization.

"Wait. Wait a minute. Are you...are you saying..."

His eyes widened slightly.

“What? Not so blunt now Egon?” Alex questioned.

“Are you...hitting on me?”

Egon looked at him, and this time his tone seemed to be one of genuine curiosity, mixed with amusement.

“Who said anything about hitting on you? Just thought you should know.” Alex was very clearly red around the apples of his cheeks and ears. He was at least embarrassed, if not caught.

Egon felt something warm and vulnerable flutter underneath one of his ribs. He swallowed.

Alex was stubborn and obviously determined not to be caught this fast in this little game they had been playing, the roughly 3 weeks of back and forth bantering, the casual drink after work when everyone else had already left, and of course, decidedly ignoring whatever happened after the attack on New York when he saw Egon exit the building safely, if not covered in goo.

Even though he, and he’s pretty sure Egon too, both remember it, neither of them have brought it up in a serious manner.

Egon laughed quietly, shaking his head. He was surprised sure, but he certainly wasn't upset. If anything, the opposite.

They were alone together, no one to hear or see anything. No one to interrupt them. Egon took a deep breath.

"Okay. I'll be honest," he said, looking Alex directly in the eye. "If you were trying to get me to figure out you're interested in me, then that definitely did the trick."

Alex smiled. It was different from his usually sly cat-like grin. This time, it was a softer, less slick looking smile with some genuine warmth behind it.

“And why would somebody as astute as the doctor Egon Spengler care about such a thing?” Alex asked, feigning being coy.

Egon had to laugh at that, shaking his head. Alex was a lot of things, but one thing he most certainly was not was subtle.

"I care because..." he paused, his smile becoming a bit broader. Despite their teasing back and forth, he was suddenly being completely genuine.

"Actually, this is probably pretty obvious, but..." He let the rest go unsaid for a moment. He didn't know what he wanted to come next. If he actually wanted to stay casual, or if he wanted more.

Alex swallowed audibly with how quiet the room had gotten suddenly.

“Egon….do you….like me?” Alex asked softly. He felt like he was dreaming, like he would wake up at any moment and this would all have been some fevered imagination of a sickly brain, a brain obsessed with this gorgeous brainiac.

Egon's face was a shade of pink now...a very noticeable pink. He shifted in his seat, clearly a bit flustered.

"I..." he said quietly. "...yes." He raised his hands up slightly, as if trying to steady himself.

"I mean...if you're okay with what that means and all that...is it...alright if I'm honest with you?"

“Please” Alex begged, voice wavering. He wanted this so much he didn’t know how to ask with words. He had practiced this scenario a thousand times over in his head as he tried to fall asleep night after night and still, he didn’t know how to respond to this. “Be honest.”

Egon swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts and his breath.

"Okay...well...I...I don't think I could have made it through the last few months without you." His words came out in spurts, each sentence broken up by pauses as he lost himself in his thoughts.

"There's always been something about you. Something I've found...really irresistible. Your mind, your energy...your...your...ahem...your...um...your...looks" He smirked softly as he finished that last sentence.

Alex flushed bright red.

Up until 10 minutes ago he had doubts the doctor even had the capabilities to be attracted to anybody, much less a man, and to hear that he had potentially been being discreetly checked out around the office made a slight sweat break out under his collared shirt and tie.

Not that he hadn’t been doing the same thing to Egon a few times when he worked… who can blame him? He flushed even harder thinking about one specific time and broke eye contact, embarrassed.

Egon couldn't help but chuckle at this. He could tell that he'd caught a very sensitive nerve. A grin spread across his face as he shook his head, still laughing a bit.

"God you're cute when you get like this," Egon said, almost teasingly.

His tone became more serious again, as he leaned forward a bit closer towards Alex.

"Can I ask you something?"

“Y-“ Alex had to swallow, mouth suddenly becoming dry as Egon leaned ever closer. “Yeah.” His eyes couldn’t look anywhere by Egon now, and he was sure his face was visibly red by now if it wasn’t before.

Egon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Before, you said you hadn't formally told me...about...your preferences. Was there a specific reason for this? Because I'd like to know if..."

He stopped there, looking into Alex's warm brown eyes. He took another deep breath.

"Was it because you weren't sure about my preferences?"

Alex caught a nervous laugh. He didn’t want Egon to think he was laughing at him, he was just so relieved they might possibly be on the same page and that this wasn’t another time Alex would be head over heels for another guy that would leave him the first chance he got a hotter woman to look at him.

“Yeah…I was just… curious is all.” Alex looked down at the floor, nervous and a bit embarrassed to be that easy to read. “Took you long enough…I think the others were starting to think I was just weird.”

Egon smirked, letting out an amused sigh.

"Well, they're not necessarily...wrong about that." He said, teasingly as always. But it was clear that he didn't mean it in an offensive way.

When Alex said he was curious, Egon understood. He had always wondered why Alex had never talked much about personal subjects like that. He was starting to see why now.

"Right. Well, I think it's my turn to be honest, yeah?"

“I think it is, doctor.” Alex teased back. Now that he knew Egon liked using that little word he was going to be sure to make it difficult. Especially if this conversation was going the way he thought it was.

Egon grinned, playing along for now.

"Okay. My turn to be honest, then."

He looked at Alex, his expression more serious again.

"I'm still confused on one thing, though. Can I ask you a personal question?"

”Go ahead” Alex said. He supposed he could be honest about it all now since he’d been pretty much found out.

Egon breathed. "Alright. I can't help but notice that after every time we have a bust, something happens between us...how do I say this? More than before. Have you ever...noticed that too?”

Egon paused to take a deep breath, still holding his eye contact. This was the moment of truth. He'd known that for some time now, the two of them were beginning to develop feelings for each other. But he'd held back, not wanting to push it too fast. But now he couldn't hold back anymore. He needed to know if Alex had noticed too.

”I’ve…” Alex had to choose his words carefully. “I’ve noticed it too. When I started working here last year…” Alex shifted nervously and then suddenly became more serious, sitting up and placing his hands on the table. “When I started working here last year I didn’t think much about it. It was supposed to just be a stepping stone to bigger things, being the Ghostbusters official PR manager is nothing to sneeze at and I thought if I just hung out here long enough I could get a job somewhere on Wall Street, bigger things, better pay…” Alex swallowed. “But then I started to like hanging out with you guys. And then we became friends, and suddenly it became a lot harder to see it as just a job. And then after…well to be honest right before the New York attack, that night you walked me home after we were the last two here, I think I sort of thought about you differently than the rest of them.”

Alex didn’t know how to explain it, it was difficult putting it into words. “I think I realized I cared about you more. In a different way I mean. Sure I’m friends with Venkmen and Stanz and Zeddemore, but I didn’t see you like I saw them. I wanted to get to know you more, I knew it when I said goodnight to you and it was snowing on my doorstep. And you smiled at me. I think I knew then. And then of course right after that big attack happened and I thought for sure you were dead, we had no clue how anything was going to play out and I just remembered feeling like I could die of happiness seeing you walk out of that building, and…I guess before I knew it I was already moving to you. I don’t really know why I hugged you, I was just…glad you were okay. I was glad I hadn’t missed my chance with you, I guess. I hadn’t realized how special you were to me.”

Egon's eyes were locked on Alex's every breath, every word. It was like he was seeing him in an entirely different light right now. They'd flirted and teased back and forth before, but everything here sounded so much more genuine and sincere. Like they weren't even playing a game anymore, they were being very real with each other. It was a beautiful thing.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding inside his chest. He felt like...like this was it.

"Can I be honest with you about something, too?"

“Anything.” Alex breathed. He felt like he was going to explode admitting all of that.

Egon swallowed, his heart pounding even faster. Just like Alex he was ready to explode. But he had to get this off his chest. Now that they'd started, he couldn't think of a reason to stop.

"I've never...I've never felt the way about anyone before the way that I feel about you. I didn't even realize it at first but I've been..." He couldn't believe he was saying all this. "...I've been thinking about you a lot. Too damn much of the time, actually."

Alex smiled, giddy and carefree. He felt a little dizzy with nerves.

“Really?” He breathed, excitedly. “I’m so glad. I can’t stop thinking about you, I felt like I was going crazy. I think even Venkman picked up on it this past month when you went on that blind date Stanz set you up on.”

Egon chuckled, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah...can't say it was a successful date."

He thought back to the disaster of a date he'd been set up with a few weeks ago. It was pretty damn clear to even Venkman. So maybe they were a little more transparent than they should have been with their feelings of late towards their friend’s attempts to set them up with other people.

"I feel stupid for letting it take this long to acknowledge any of this."

“Maybe we’re both stupid.” Alex thought, dumbly. But he couldn’t let anything dampen his mood right now. He felt like he was floating, almost drunk with happiness.

“So Mr. Scientist,” he said, balancing his chin on his hand and reaching an index finger to fiddle around with the lid of an empty Petri dish in front of him, “tell me about what you think about me. What’s been on that big brain of yours?” He purred.

Egon felt his heart skip a beat when Alex started flirting with him. He wasn't used to it, but he really liked it. What he liked even more was the idea that someone as brilliant and attractive as Alex thought this way about him.

Egon chuckled, his lips curling up into a smirk. "You want me to be honest about what I think about you?"

“Honesty is the best policy” Alex nodded, intrigued.

"Yeah...yeah it definitely is." Egon leaned forward, his gaze even more intense than before.

"I think you're absolutely brilliant. Not just in terms of your science...but your mind itself. That sharp, witty mind of yours is such a...turn on." His smirk became a bit more mischievous as he spoke. "I love it when you try to outwit a person in conversation, when you get all riled up and competitive.... I love even more that I've never seen you lose."

“You have such a way with your stupid words.” Alex giggled. He was sure he was making a fool of himself but he couldn’t believe somebody like the Egon Spengler found him attractive. He could count on one hand the times he’d been this lucky in his entire life.

“You really know how to flatter a guy,” Alex admitted, tracing the rim of the Petri dish with the same finger absentmindedly.

Egon smiled, chuckling at that, but not denying the accuracy.

"I wasn't kidding when I said your mind turns me on."

He leaned in even closer, his gaze burning into Alex's. He looked at the way Alex was tracing the rim of his empty petri dish and had an idea.

"I have a suggestion..."

“Shoot.” Alex said, sharpening the ‘T’ sound, almost bitingly.

Egon swallowed, almost nervous looking. But he thought this would be the perfect way to test the waters, to see just how interested Alex really was before he took it a step further.

"Close your eyes..."

“Okay.” Alex said, cautiously but trusting. He knew Egon wouldn’t hurt him and if anything, not knowing what was coming next and being completely at the will of the other man kind of made him feel safe. It was nice. It made his heart race a little.

He shut his eyes gently, waiting.

Egon smirked, enjoying the game he was playing. He stood up, and slowly started moving behind Alex, his movements very subtle and patient. When he got behind him, he took the same index finger that Alex had been tracing the edge of the Petri dish with and ran it softly, delicately over the back of Alex's neck, sliding it into his hair and slowly running it through.

Alex shivered at the touch.

Christ.

Okay.

He hadn’t been expecting this. Egon wasn’t a touchy person, not even in the throes of victory, so this was new, and honestly thrilling for Alex.

“Egon…” Alex practically purred, keening towards the touch. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

Egon smiled, pleased with the way Alex reacted to it. He decided to go a step further, and slowly, still using only his one index finger, started stroking Alex's hair down his neck, and eventually down his shoulders as he continued to trace a line down Alex's back.

Alex shivered and twitched with every vertebrae that Egon ran his finger past.

“This another one of your experiments, doctor?” Alex teased with a voice lower and slower than normal, but this time the air was thicker with something unspoken and unseen. But it could be very, very felt. Distantly, Alex was glad everyone else had taken this Saturday off.

Egon smirked. He loved that he was making Alex squirm, that he was clearly enjoying this so much. Alex's lower and slower voice made his chest tremble with a mix of emotion. A mix of excitement and fear. He was enjoying this, this flirtatious back and forth, but now he was feeling more daring…

"No experiment...this is something...much more personal."

“And what exactly are you testing here?” Alex asked. He still hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but now he thought he couldn’t bear not being able to see Egon for a second longer. He opened his eyes, and titled his head slightly back and was met with an angled view of his affections.

His heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting Egon to look anything less than well…perfect. But this was new. Egon’s once soft brown eyes looked almost black with how dilated his pupils were, and his olive completion was a richer red tone around his face and ears. He may be more cognitively in control of the situation, but it was good to see that he was just as affected by Alex as he was by Egon.

Egon smirked and stepped even closer, their mouths finally just inches away from one another. He watched as the corners of Alex's lips quivered ever so slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of joy sweep over him.

"My test..." Egon's voice was lower, and more seductive than ever. "...is to see exactly how far I can push it before you can't take it anymore."

As he spoke, he leaned just a tiny bit closer. Their lips were almost touching…

“Egon,” Alex’s voice was barely a whisper but it somehow only came out as a strung out whimper. He titled his head back ever so slightly more and he felt Egon’s breath hot on his lips.

Alex would beg for mercy if he had to. He just wanted Egon. He was so happy he could cry. His entire body felt like it was vibrating with how wired and nervous he was.

Egon knew at this point he couldn't hold back anymore. It was obvious he was just as nervous as Alex was. And in this intense moment, he needed to let him know that. His hands fell to Alex's shoulders and he pulled him even closer, so their chests were pressing sharply up against one another.

Egon's voice was lower than the lowest, as he began to whisper right back.

"God do you know how badly I want you, right now? What I would do to you if I could right this second?"

Alex’s head spun. Who was this? His Egon was quiet and professional, but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t thought of this side of Egon, better said, dreamed of Egon having a side like this. He knew Egon was a man of control, and rules, but he also knew Egon, like every man, had buttons.

And buttons, could be pressed.

“We’re alone for the day.” Alex reminded. Egon was so close their foreheads were pressed together. Eyes locked.

Egon froze at that, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. He felt Alex's body pressed up against him, his heart pounding in his ears. His lips were mere centimeters apart, now. And he was suddenly hit with a wave of...nerve? Fear? Excitement?

Finally, Egon's mind won the war within.

"God damn it, it's taking every ounce of self control I have right now not to just start ripping you apart with my teeth..." he said, eyes darker than before.

Oh.

A little crazy.

Alex could work with a little crazy.

“Please-” let it never be said that Alex was above begging, because he wasn’t. Especially not for Egon. He would beg for Egon to call him worthless and pathetic. He would beg for Egon to spit on him. Egon being nice to him? Practically as strong as cocaine straight to the brain.

Alex leaned forward and clumsily brushed his lips against Egon’s for a mere second before pulling back, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded. He wanted Egon to want this as much as him. He wanted Egon to want him.

Egon stared into Alex's eyes, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute. Just seeing Alex's lips meet his, even for just one brief contact, sent a jolt of pure euphoria through his entire body. He'd never realized just how much he'd wanted this...how much he'd wanted Alex, until this very moment.

Finally, he did it. Before he had a chance to second guess his actions, Egon let his instincts take over. He leaned forward and pulled Alex back into him with one firm and quick motion. He then proceeded to take over this kiss…

Alex gasped into the kiss. He wasn’t expecting Egon to be this rough, but he guessed there was a certain aspect of desperation on both of their ends. Egon felt like he was devouring him. Alex’s knees felt like they were going to buckle, and he was lowering slowly, slowly, with pathetic little noises as Egon kissed the breath out of him.

He broke for a second, as Egon leaned over him, pushing his back into the chair, legs straddling it weakly. “Eg-“ he gasped as Egon went in for another kiss, just as hungry as the last. Alex broke away again, more determinedly “I’ve wanted this for so long. So, so, long…” his legs still weak, he leaned into Egon’s chest and arms, holding him.

Egon was in almost as much of a stupor as Alex, that little bit he'd tasted of him before had sent his heart soaring to new heights. His whole body felt alive, every single nerve. He couldn't believe how much he had wanted this, how badly he'd want to take it even further. But right now, was just the two of them, alone, the downstairs door locked.

As Alex spoke, Egon squeezed him harder by instinct alone. It was only making him yearn for much, much more…

“How long?” Alex asked between kisses. His right knee gave out and he felt Egon pull away. He made a weak noise of protest as Egon’s body pulled from his, until he realized he was being pulled with it and spun around. Suddenly, he found himself being picked up by the hips and sat gingerly and quickly onto the edge of the table, legs straddled and Egon standing in between. He kissed Alex again, tongue slipping into his mouth. He obviously didn’t seem content with the position though, too far, as he broke apart again soon after to grab Alex’s hips and yank him toward Egon’s standing ones, legs locking behind his back.

“Since when?” Alex asked again. “When did you know?” He felt drunk as Egon moved to kiss his jawline.

Egon smirked when he realized what Alex was actually asking him. To have someone this sharp, this witty being so...weak in your hands was an incredibly intoxicating experience. But the time to pick was over, now was all about play.

"God I don't know...it's been a while." Egon moved back in to capture Alex's mouth once again, holding onto his hips for dear life. "Since I started to want to see the sides of you that weren't professional, that weren't strictly business...I wanted to see exactly how human you could be."

“I’ve wanted you since that day in January. The one where we had the poltergeist in the-ah!” Alex winced as Egon moved to his neck and bit at a sensitive spot just under his ear, soft tender flesh. “S-since, that day- when- when you came back to the lab in your- your lab clothes all-” Alex’s left hand, the stronger of the two, came up to grasp at the dress shirt stretched over Egon’s back, “and th-they were all singed and dusty, and you were covered in- mmhp- sweat, and you didn’t even look at me when you-you” Egon kissed Alex to shut him up briefly, and for a moment there was nothing but the noise of soft, labored breathing and the creaking of the wooden table as they pressed against one another, but eventually Egon let him go in favor of biting at his neck again. “You- you didn’t even look at me, just rolled, rolled up your sleeves and went to work in your lab. All serious, brow furrowed, covered in grime but still wanting to get data while- ah- it’s fresh-“ Alex smiled remembering it. He still felt fuzzy and the memory was still fresh. “You’re incredibly toned for a scientist did- did you know that?” Alex asked in a breathy voice. “You have a great- great body.”

Egon huffed a laugh against his neck.

Egon couldn't help but feel his ego inflate and his cheek turn red from Alex's compliment. He'd never considered just how toned his body was, especially with his lack of exercise and all his nerdy, intellectual pursuits. As Alex rambled on, Egon couldn't help but get more turned on.

He smirked as he bit down on Alex's neck again and felt his lips twitch against it, as if Alex was moaning.

"I think you might be the first person in a while who's actually taken the time to notice..."

“How could I not?” Alex asked. Egon had momentarily paused his nipping and chewing to lift his head and look up at Alex. His big, dark eyes were even darker than usual and it was hard to see where his pupil and iris even separated.

He looked, almost animal with it.

Alex had never seen a not very methodically, almost scientifically, controlled side of Egon. This made some part of Alex’s hindbrain flicker with a warmth he had only felt on lonely nights he spent fantasizing with his own hand and brain.

Egon smirked and tilted his head up as he looked at Alex's face, that perfect, beautiful, wonderful face that had eluded him and teased him for so long. He just couldn't get enough. Every part of his body was tingling with pleasure and desire. He wanted nothing more than to take Alex right here and right now.

"You look beautiful." Egon said it sincerely, truly believing every word of it. But then he leaned up and whispered, his voice a mischievous and enticing husk. "I'm going to make you even more beautiful..."

Alex complied limply. Whatever Egon wanted. Alex felt himself slipping quietly under into that mindset he loved so much. He didn’t need control. He trusted Egon. Whatever he wanted. He knew best. He wanted to make him proud. He wanted to do whatever would make Egon happy.

Alex reached his neck desperately towards Egon and caught one last desperate kiss with a small sound before he finally gave in and let Egon do whatever he wished.

As he watched Alex willingly yield to him, Egon couldn't help but smirk. The look on his face was just as he pictured: submissive, trusting, almost worshiping. He couldn't wait to push the limits of this power and see just how desperate his new lab assistant and lover was.

So Egon did just that, pushing Alex's shirt up and kissing his collarbone, slowly making his way up to his neck again. He bit and nibbled at his collar bone, all while rubbing his hands along Alex's back and hips.

“Ah!” Alex gasped. He was particularly sensitive on his hips, and once Egon knew, he used it devilishly. His thumb ran a steady back and forth rhythm over a ridge in his V-line, making Alex shiver. Another hand curled possessively over Alex’s back and made him preen with a particularly fiery feeling in his chest. Alex continued making weak and steady noises as Egon worked over his collarbone, biting and kissing everywhere he could reach, hands moving to grasp the skin he couldn’t cover with his mouth.

The power and the control that he was asserting over Alex was making Egon feel like he was in some kind of haze, like he was just floating around in a sea of bliss, a euphoric dream that he didn't want to ever end.

The way Alex reacted to his touch made his own heart skip a beat, hearing him make those soft little sounds as he nibbled just so slightly harder on his neck and collarbone. It was pushing all his buttons, making him want so much more…

“Please-” Alex begged, not entirely sure what exactly he was begging for. Whatever Egon would give him. Whatever Egon thought he deserved. Alex’s hands, at one point limp around Egon’s waist, now were clenched tightly into his shirt and his hair, respectively, as Alex’s body curled into Egon’s.

Egon shivered again as he heard Alex beg him, heard him pleading for more.

This was exactly what he had been dreaming of. A completely submissive Alex, one who would let Egon take control completely, one who would gladly turn over every inch of his body to Egon for...for whatever Egon wanted.

It was such a turn on that Egon couldn't even form whole sentences, his thoughts were getting the best of him and his body was ready to take...no, to take control.

“Whatever you want.” Alex wanted more. Whatever Egon would give him. He laid flat on the table as Egon pulled away and surveyed him quickly, eyes flitting across his body as a whole, flushed, shirt pushed up, hands clutching feverishly at the flat table finding nothing to grab on to.

Egon smirked, loving the look of desperation on Alex's face, knowing that he was completely and utterly at his mercy now. And as Egon looked over him, his eyes trailing up and down his body, it was like Alex's features became bolder, brighter, more handsome. He looked like a perfect specimen to him, to the point where Egon almost couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"I'm going to make your day today..."

“What are you going to do?” Alex asked, although he really didn’t need to know. He was okay with whatever. As long as Egon was happy with him, he’d do it.

Egon brushed a hand along the side of Alex’s stomach and Alex made a little hurt, punched out noise from his gut and curled into the touch, but it was gone almost as fast as it appeared.

"Just...just close your eyes for me and stay still for a minute." Egon's voice was heavy, and slightly out of breath. He was almost desperate himself, he needed this just as much as Alex, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make Alex want him and love him for the rest of his life.

Alex could almost physically feel Egon's desire in the air, his need for more, seeping off from him as it grew with every passing second. Egon's body was trembling, his breath quick and shallow.

”Okay…” Alex swallowed for the first time in a while, finding his mouth dry but his lips slick with spit. He felt slightly debauched, but he preened at the knowledge that it was Egon who made him this way. Only for Egon.

He sat patiently and waited for whatever Egon had next.

Egon watched as Alex closed his eyes, watching him with baited breath and a deep seated hunger his lips were practically quivering with desire. And as he watched, the hunger inside him only grew more intense.

Quickly, his hands traced along the top of Alex's body, down his sides, all the way down to his thighs, caressing and teasing his body, making sure there wasn't a single inch missed.

Alex whimpered. He felt crazed. Egon’s hands felt so large and warm, almost feverish. Everywhere he touched felt like it was melting. Alex was practically drunk off the feeling as he squirmed with every new press into tender flesh that Egon figured out could make him writhe.

Just the sound of Alex's squirms was enough for Egon to get worked up even more, each touch and each squeeze of his body had him trembling with desire, his body quivering with excitement, ready to explode out in a fit of sheer pleasure.

Egon's hands moved faster, his touches more firm. He was determined to tease every last ounce of sound out of him that he could.

“Please, enough teasing!” Alex begged. He was almost crying now. His heart has been racing this entire time. He still had one more secret to tell Egon and the longer the foreplay went on, the more nervous he got about telling him.

Hearing that voice break out in tears in response to his touches only sparked more hunger in Egon's chest, but when he heard the pleading come from Alex's mouth, that was enough to cause the last pieces of resistance to crumble. He had to. No more teasing, no more playing, this was the real deal. He needed him now.

"All right, yes, I will, just...just let me-" Egon said, but his words were cut short by his own mouth coming down hard against Alex's.

Alex moaned loudly. Perhaps the loudest one yet as Egon’s hands grabbed his hips and seared him against his pelvis firm. He could feel…a certain hardness against his leg as Egon’s tongue explored his mouth and practically stole his oxygen away.

Egon groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. He couldn't hold himself back much longer now, the only thing on his mind was getting more. More of this perfect body, more of the sound of his pleas and whimpers.

Egon's hand moved downwards, squeezing firmly and squeezing Alex tighter against him. It was all he could do to keep himself from pushing him down and taking what he wanted right then and there.

As Egon’s hand moved downward, Alex’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist in a moment of blind panic and clarity. It shocked Alex as much as it did Egon and for a moment they both simply stared at one another, panting, flushed.

“Egon…Eg-I’m…” Alex started, trying to word something but seemingly choking on it. “I need to tell you something before…before we do anything else.” Alex’s heart was in his throat. He thought he wouldn’t even get past the admission of him being bisexual, he didn’t know how to breech this. “Egon…I’m transgender.” Alex swallowed, throat tight with want as much as it was with fear.

Egon froze, hand still in mid air when he heard the words coming out of Alex's mouth. His breathing stopped, his heart beating out of his chest, it was a miracle that he didn't fall off of the table he was sitting on. Egon just stared, his mind whirring a million miles a second, trying to process what Alex had just told him.

All movement stopped.

God.

God.

He’d ruined it.

Ruined it.

Alex’s face burned with embarrassment. He knew Egon wouldn’t want him after this. He just thought…he doesn’t know what he thought…that in some miracle Egon would accept him?

His face burns with more than embarrassment, with shame.

He gets ready for Egon to push off and potentially even hit him. For baiting him. For being…a freak.

"Say that again."

It wasn't the reply Alex expected. It wasn't words that expressed disgust or anger or shame, but something deeper- something that spoke volumes to the depth of his emotions for him. Egon was breathless, his mind a million miles a second, but the intensity of the words in his throat were only getting stronger. He needed to hear it one more time to make sure he wasn't just hearing things.

Alex swallowed.

“I’m…I’m transgender.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

His hand gripped the table’s edge, he could reach it from where Egon had pulled him closer to his hips. He was sweating, both from being hot, so so hot, pressed up against Egon, but also from nerves and anxiety chewing at his gut.

Egon's stomach flipped, his heart racing as blood rushed to every inch of his body. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the news he was just told, and he felt the heat and the intensity growing inside him again. But this time it was mixed with something new, with a hunger that he's never experienced before.

"Just one question..." Egon asked, his voice thick and heavy with desire and love. His body was trembling with need now, his heart ready to explode into sparks and flames.

”Yeah?” Alex whimpered.

Egon reached forward, grabbing Alex's wrist, pulling him closer, almost into a hug so he could whisper something in his ear.

"Are you a man?"

”Yes” Alex squeezed his eyes shut and whispered. Egon was so close.

"That's all I care about."

Egon's breath was so hot and heavy as he spoke, it felt like his words were igniting the room. He finally let go of Alex's wrist, his body trembling uncontrollably as all the desire he felt before seemed to have reached its peak. He was ready to take him, to mold him into whatever shape he found most desirable.

Jesus.

Jesus.

Alex felt like he was going to pass out. Or die. Maybe both.

His head was practically spinning. Egon’s hands grabbed his hips harder and slid down, brushing the waistband of his pants slightly further, exposing his hips and the beginning of a small happy trail.

He could cry.

He was so happy.

He was crying he realized. Tears slipped from his eyes as Egon began biting at his collarbone again.

Egon was like a heat seeking missile, his mouth, his lips, his teeth moving to whatever place he could find that would generate the most response out of Alex. He couldn't get enough of him, his lips trailing down his neck, down to his shoulders, his hand caressing his hips as he slowly pulled him even closer so he could bite, and bite, and scratch, and maul, and love every inch of him like he was a starving animal after the meal that had been denied him for months on end.

”Egon-“ Alex whimpered. His hands clawed at the thin fabric stretched over Egon’s back. He had money to afford the expensive thick type, Alex knew exactly what he was getting paid, but he also knew Egon preferred practical. Something he loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to come back to the lab dripping in ectoplasm or singed with soot.

In fact, maybe now Alex would finally have an excuse to get all those ruined cheap shirts off him.

Alex kissed at Egon’s mouth when he could. Brief, wet, desperate kisses.

Egon's mind was filled with nothing but Alex now, the sweet sound of his cries, the feel of his fingernails digging into his back, the way his body fit so neatly against his own....he couldn't go back, he didn't want to, he didn't intend on letting go of him until he finally saw him broken, broken and his, his alone.

Egon's desire continued to grow with every passing second, his breath getting heavier, his movements becoming more aggressive. He needed more.

“Whatever you want. Do whatever- I Just- ah - I need more” Alex pleaded. He knew it was pathetic. Begging to be taken, especially by someone he admired so much. He wanted Egon to think he was an equal, someone to be taken seriously. Not just some…whore. Something cheap to be broken.

But…maybe…just maybe…

He would like to be Egon’s anything.

He could be Egon’s plaything if he wanted. He’d bend.

He’s submit. He’d even let Egon break him, as long as he put him back together at the end.

And he would.

Because he knew Egon.

He trusted Egon.

So…

“More” he begged.

Egon's mind was just pure adrenaline now, thoughts coming one after another like a machine gun firing. Thoughts of him, of how he made this boy want him so desperately, how he trusted him so much that he'd let him do anything, even let him break him...it was everything he'd ever dreamed of and now that it was actually a reality it was all he could think about.

Egon's hands slid down to his back, gripping him harder, pulling him closer as his breath got heavier and heavier…

Alex bucked his hips against Egon, and the sweet friction that was there for less than a second lit a spark in his mind. He felt like goo. He was a specimen. All for Egon.

Now that he thought about it…he wouldn’t mind being examined like a subject. Put on display for the doctor.

Alex shivered at the thought.

“I really-really want you” Alex breathed, clutching at him.

Egon's movements slowed down as he saw how much he was affecting Alex now, how his actions were making the man absolutely tremble with desire and need. He savored the feeling, enjoying the feeling of his own dominance and the power it gave him. He could make Alex do anything, make him do anything he wanted…

"I want you bad..." Egon breathed, his voice heavy and thick with need as his mouth came down to Alex's neck, kissing and nipping along the way. Egon was trembling all over now.

”Then do something about it,” Alex bit, and leaned back baring his neck to Egon who bit it with a feverish intensity.

Egon moaned, the sound echoing in his ears as he bit and nicked along the sensitive areas on Alex's neck.

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

Egon's grip on him had begun to loosen, but it was only so he could move one of his hands around to push Alex's hips forward and make him buck even harder against him.

“AH!” Alex jumped as one of Egon’s hands slid down his back and into the back of his pants. It cupped flesh, squeezing. Alex rocked against the touch, his front brushing against Egon’s feeling just how excited he was by this.

“I want more though…” Alex pawed at Egon’s neatly tucked shirt, finally managing to ruck the back up enough to grab skin just on the small of his back. He tried to pull him closer. “There are beds just a few rooms away you know…” Alex bit at Egon’s ear and got an almost growl-like sound in response.

Egon's mouth left his neck as he heard his ear being nipped on, making his grip on him tight again. He'd been thinking the same thing, the pull of their bodies together was too much to pass up.

"You know what? You're right..." Egon murmured, the only sound the deep breathing of the both of them as Egon began to push Alex towards the beds, eager for the chance to give him everything he wanted.

Alex stumbled blindly, stupidly, towards the bunk room. He knew which bed was Egon’s, and was suddenly thankful for the twin size, as it meant they would have to be as close as possible.

“Egon…” Alex breathed as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, Egon’s hands cupping his jaw. Alex begun to work on pulling the front of Egon’s shirt out of his slacks.

Egon's heart was pounding in his chest, the sound just loud and heavy in his head as he watched Alex start to pull down his shirt. His mouth was dry as all of the blood had rushed to his lower half at this point, making his entire body feel hot all over. He was practically shaking with every touch of Alex's hands as he held himself back at the moment. He could let himself go later, he had to wait just a few more seconds…

”Can I?” Alex asked, practically doe eyed as he looked up at Egon, flushed with lips wet with spit.

His hands fumbled with the zipper of Egon’s pants and the buckle of his belt. This was the only time he cursed how perfectly dressed Egon was. It got in his way of what he really wanted right now.

"Oh... oh yes.”

Egon's entire body was trembling in anticipation, his entire being was just craving for anything he could get from Alex and now to think that he was going to let him take off his pants to get to him....he was not going to last long if this continued.

Alex deftly and quickly undid Egon’s belt and zipper with a speed that told Egon he had done this before, and a primal, stupid part of Egon’s brain flared with jealousy. He wanted to kill whoever taught Alex that. Alex was his.

Alex yanked Egon’s slacks down and his briefs along with it. Quickly, he nosed along the V of Egon’s hips with the ferocity of a starved animal. He licked and kissed anywhere he could get his mouth to.

Egon couldn't stop the guttural sound of pleasure that came from his mouth, his legs wobbling with every touch of Alex's tongue and mouth. His breath was heavy and sharp, his body trembling with the intense desire now coursing through him.

Alex’s hands moved to cover whatever he couldn’t get with his mouth. He wanted this to be good for Egon. He wanted to be good for Egon. He made sure to keep his teeth out of the way, using his tongue mostly. He was still shy, new at this despite the fever with which he undressed Egon.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy pressure on the back of his head.

Egon’s hand.

Egon shoved ever so lightly, forcing Alex to go lower. He had to breathe through his nose now, which was new. His eyes watered up again, threatening to spill.

He liked this Egon though. This new, dominant, side. He liked the pressure of his hand, he liked being told what to do.

Egon's breathing was hot and heavy as he pushed Alex lower to him, his breath rushing out of his mouth with a guttural hiss as he pushed him lower and lower and lower. He needed what Alex was giving him now more than anything he had felt before. He wanted it, needed it, his entire body was trembling in a mixture of anticipation and pleasure, he was close, and he was close very very quickly.

Alex could feel Egon tensing up. He didn’t want this to end so soon but he didn’t know whether or not Egon wanted to go…that far with him.

Egon’s hand released up on his head slightly. Gently, the same hand came to brush sweaty hair behind Alex’s ear.

Egon was hot in Alex’s mouth. Like melting velvet. Alex could stay here forever, warm and fuzzy, doing whatever Egon says. Whatever makes him make the sounds he’s making now.

"Stop..." Egon breathed, his voice was thick and heavy as it was hard for him to get the words out. He was too close now, he needed to keep control of himself for just a little longer, to hold back a bit before he blew this early.

"Look at me." Egon hissed through his teeth as he grabbed Alex's hair and pulled him back up to his face like a demanding master grabbing his pet's leash.

Alex almost choked, pulling quickly off of Egon. His hands were strong, and huge compared to Alex’s face. It was a pretty picture for Egon. A flushed and hazed Alex, back arched, shirt ruffled and pushed up, midriff showing.

“Egon-“ Alex’s voice was hoarse. There was still spit connecting him to Egon.

Alex’s hands drifted to Egon’s thighs. He felt bad, he’d have to wash these slacks for Egon later. He was pretty sure he was going to have to wash this entire bed later.

"Put your hair back" Egon demanded, using all his strength to keep himself from grabbing Alex and pulling him back down for more.

He couldn't see anything else right now other than Alex. He wanted him. He needed him to be his.

Alex’s hair was short so he simply tucked it behind his ear. He blinked up at Egon and got the cue as Egon began tearing at the buttons of Alex’s shirt.

“Ah!-“ Alex tried to protest his shirt being destroyed but Egon simply kissed him and pushed him further up the bed towards his pillows.

“I’ll buy you a new one-“ Egon mended as he pulled the scrap off of Alex’s back and began working to undo his pants, still almost fully dressed himself.

Egon was now barely thinking, he'd let his desire take absolute control of him. He was practically ripping off Alex's pants out of the pure desire to be able to see more of his body. It was almost animalistic the way he was moving now, he couldn't even see straight. All he knew was that it was time to take Alex as his own, to possess him completely.

“Please-“ Alex coughed as he broke away from Egon to paw weakly at his pants, slug around his hips.

Egon kissed him animalistically.

”Baby,” Alex whined. The blood rushed straight to Egon’s lower half.

"Please what?" Egon said, his hands moving to pin down Alex's hands, taking charge of the situation now. He knew a guy like this didn't want to be in charge. The way Alex had been acting so shyly earlier, the way he'd begged Egon to take control made it clear he was just too…overwhelmed to have any kind of power in this situation. Egon let his mouth roam over his neck, gently scratching and biting wherever he thought would get a reaction out of him.

Alex’s breath was coming in shallow puffs now. His eyes rolled back in his head as Egon continued to make dark marks around his neck. He wouldn’t be able to cover them, they’d know. They’d know he was Egon’s.

“Please- doctor!” Alex begged. Egon’s hand roamed up Alex’s lower half, now completely open to him.

Egon stopped, his hands drifting down to his hips again to grip them. He liked how Alex's eyes rolled back into his head as he called him doctor. It made his heart beat to think that Alex would want him to be his doctor, even if it was just for this moment, because that was exactly the title he wanted right now. He wanted to do experiments on him, to see the inside of him, to break him down into all of his pieces, then putting him together again like a puzzle to make him exactly what he needed.

“Take me…” Alex swallowed, mouth dry, “Take me apart…” He finally managed to pull his lovers pants completely off and his shirt as well, leaving him in the same state as Alex.

He was glad the fire house was warm. Hot, even.

Maybe that was just them two.

Egon's entire body shivered at that one sentence. It was as though he could feel the heat radiate off of his own body, his heart beating so quickly that it almost hurt him.

This boy, Alex, he was exactly what Egon needed. Maybe not just for a few nights, but for forever.

"Then I will take you apart..." Egon said, it was almost a threat. No one else was getting him, he was his.

“Please,��� Alex kissed Egon as he felt him move. This position was similar to the table, except now Egon towered even more-so over him.

They hadn’t grabbed any sort of…help…for this. It was just them. Bare. Alex hoped Egon was fine with that. He was on the pill after all.

“I want you-“ Egon kissed Alex to shut him up and moved. He felt hot. Much hotter than anything or anybody Alex had been with before. And his body was, larger. He covered Alex’s whole chest, and he could feel one of Egon’s hands tracing one of his top surgery scars.

Egon shivered again, his body shaking with both the desire he was feeling and the thought that there was nothing to stop them from going all the way, no condoms or contraception, nothing at all. He wanted to take Alex and to make him his, on every level.

Alex's scars were just a bonus to him, something he liked to see on another's body as it told more about who they were. He would always appreciate the scars Alex got, because it made him know Alex even more.

“I don’t need…prep,” Alex breathed. He flushed with the admission but it was true. He watched as the realization suck into Egon’s face and he grinned, devilish.

“Yeah?” Egon asked, petting Alex’s side sweetly. It amazed him how even in such heated moments like this Egon could be so sweet and shy.

“Was thinking of you while I…” Alex admitted in a breathy, sort of out of control voice before he could even think about what he was saying.

"You were?" Egon whispered back, his voice full of shock, it seemed almost impossible that Alex would think of him at all when he was alone.

"Just me?"

Egon's hands began to make their way over Alex's body again, stroking down his sides as he watched for his reaction.

“Only you.” Alex moaned as Egon’s hand teased him.

“Wanted to be Yours” Alex purred. He kissed the bridge of Egon’s nose, something he knew the other man was sensitive about, but to Alex, he loved it, it was strong and regal just like the man it was attached to.

"Oh..." Egon breathed as he heard Alex moaning and kissing his nose, he could feel his heart skipping a beat at that admission. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, he didn't expect anyone to ever tell him that they wanted him, let alone only him. His entire body was trembling now as he felt a rush of emotions all at once.

He lowered his face back to Alex's and kissed him deeply, unable to help himself at all.

“Please, please need you now, needed you yesterday,” Alex began to whine, clawing at Egon’s back freely now. He was sure he would leave faint red marks in his wake. He wanted to mark Egon as much as Egon wanted to mark him.

He drew his legs around Egon’s back and pulled him closer into his hips, barely pulling him in.

Alex grit his teeth. He was so hot. He felt like he had a fever.

Egon groaned at that as his grip on Alex tightened, his breath coming out sharp and heavy as he pressed himself into him with everything he had. His heart was racing and he could feel his vision blurring at the heat now, he was so worked up that it was becoming difficult to keep steady because everything that Alex was doing was sending him straight to the breaking point.

Alex’s whines and moans took a sharp turn into a higher register as Egon pushed home. It felt insane. He felt like he was full to his throat. He wanted to spend and entire eon here in Egon’s arms.

Egon’s moans took a lower register however, as he braced one arm bracketing Alex’s head, hair flung widely out onto the pillow behind him. Alex’s arm flew up to claw at Egon’s nape.

It reminded him of how this started, Egon’s finger slowly drawing up and down his head.

Alex felt drunk. Egon felt powerful.

Egon could feel Alex's back arching as he pushed deeper and deeper, each movement making Egon feel more and more dominant, more and more in control of Alex. He could hear the other man growling and moaning with each thrust as it drove him close to his limit, but Egon couldn't stop himself, he wanted even more.

”Egon- Doctor- I’m so close” Alex breathed. His eyes were brimmed with tears as Egon pushed against a spot inside him that made him see stars. His hand gripped into Egon’s back further, and he was sure his nails were breaking skin as he dug into him and pulled him closer, kissing him harder, teeth biting lips and clacking into each other.

Egon's lips were still locked to his, his mouth moving even as his body shivered at the pressure from Alex's hand. He was on the verge of losing it completely, he needed this release more than anything right now because he had come so far. He'd be lying if he said his actions weren't a bit selfish, but no matter what his intentions were, his mind wasn't thinking like that right now, all he could think about was taking more and more.

“Egon.” Alex’s voice tumbled into a softer tone without even meaning to. “I thi-uh-” he made stupid little punched out noises with every movement. Egon gripped his hand that was on his back and pinned it to the pillows behind his head with his own. He felt just as hot as Alex, if not more so.

“I think- think I’m in-“ Alex gasped and made a long pathetic cry as Egon slowly moved and held his position against him. “ITHINKIMINLOVEWITHYOU-” Alex jumbled out in a moment of happiness and haze induced fog as Egon, the man of his dreams, the guy he’s wanted for so so long, holds him and kisses him and presses into him.

Egon shivered at that admission, his chest feeling as though it were being crushed from the sudden rush of emotions that came from Alex's words. He couldn't even think right now, he wasn't thinking of anything other than this moment, this man he had wanted for so long was in his arms telling him that he loved him. Egon squeezed the boy tighter as he finally released him from the pressure and finally allowed himself to just rest his weight on top of Alex, holding him close.

Alex felt Egon tense, and one of his large hands came to grip Alex’s lower half. He pulled, and a few strokes later Alex’s back bowed and his eyes rolled and he made an absolutely pathetic whimper as he folded.

He was Egon’s.

Egon shivered again, his jaw was clenched tight as he tried to get everything under control and stop his entire world from shaking. Now that he had Alex here, he wasn't going to let him go. He was only his, he was finally his and Egon had never felt this good before as he felt a rush of pride flow through him. He would have to wait to ask if it was just a heat-of-the-situation statement or if it was the real thing, but right now it didn't matter. All he could think of was that he had him.

Egon felt heavy on top of Alex as he laid there after the fact. Alex didn’t have the strength to move him. He really didn’t think he wanted to move him. He felt… warm and full and he really had never been happier. He had the man he loved in bed with him…shit, he had just made love to the man he loved. Alex felt like he may explode despite being so wrung out.

He could still feel Egon’s hands rubbing softly at his hips, even despite him being exhausted. Alex felt a different part of him warm, his heart. Even despite everything Egon was still thinking of him first.

Egon didn't try to move either, he felt so incredibly content just laying on top of Alex, his body pressed firmly against him. Egon's fingers were still tracing over his hips, he couldn't get enough of the boy beneath him. He'd never felt like this before, Alex had a hold on him he didn't think he would ever have over anyone, in this moment he had finally been taken by someone, he had finally been possessed and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep with Alex in his arms.

”Egon.” Alex whispered a few minutes after their breathing had calmed down. Egon had shifted slightly to get off of Alex’s chest.

“I love you.” Alex breathed as Egon played with his hair.

He felt Egon smile against his shoulder.

"I love you too."

Egon's reply was simple, but he meant it with all his heart as he shifted off of him, laying beside him now. He was so comfortable and so content with him, he wanted to hold him this way for the rest of his life and he honestly didn't want to be anywhere else right now. His arm snaked around and wrapped tightly around him as he brought him closer to himself, holding him close while his finger played with the hair at the back of his head.

Alex nuzzled into Egon’s neck. He shivered as the last of Egon pulled out.

“Do ya’ think we could sleep here?” Alex asked, already sleepy. Egon had tired him out, and he was still partially in that fuzzy state in between conscious and pliable.

Egon’s hand wrapped further around him. He was warm and still slightly tacky with sweat.

Egon shivered as he felt Alex nuzzle into him again, he couldn't help but give a soft chuckle when he heard his request to sleep together, he was already getting used to being Alex's pillow.

"Yes, I do."

He was tired too and he let himself drift off with his body pressed against Alex's, his arm keeping him close even when his eyes were starting to shut and his heart was trying to slow back down.

Alex fell asleep peacefully and quickly that night. It was nice. He felt completely comfortable for once. He had half the mind to pull his boxers and Egon’s shirt on before completely drifting off and forcing Egon to at least pull his boxers on as well.

-

He was glad he did, because somehow both of them forgot to set any sort of clock beside any bedside table, and by the time Venkman got to the firehouse the next day, they had just enough time to hear the door on the first floor open to be able to wake up and rush to get things ready.

Egon sat up slowly when he heard the firehouse door slam open from the lower floor. He looked around, seeing Alex pull on his boxers next to him.

He had to be dreaming still because Alex had spent the entire night with him. Egon was already slipping on pants by then and Alex was up as well.

They both looked half dressed but it was enough to not raise suspicions that they had been with each other. For all Peter knew, Egon had simply spent the night in the lab and Alex had had a particularly good date. They shuffled blearily into the kitchenette, and belatedly, Alex realized all of Egon’s work was still across the table. He hoped it could survive a night of no refrigeration, he would’ve hated to have ruined all of his hard work. He didn’t look worried, so Alex was not panicked just yet.

Instead, Egon headed to the kitchen and started pulling down some pancake mix and a bowl from a higher shelf than Alex couldn’t usually get to without going on his tip-toes, and grabbing a pan from under the sink.

Alex sat at the same chair he had been accosted in last night and watched intensely. Egon looked so domestic. He had to borrow extra sweats and an old college hoodie in his locker here since his clothes were ruined last night. He was lucky enough to have another work outfit in his locker. So he didn’t have the luxury of pretending like the two of them had truly spent a night together like a real couple.

Even though they did.

Finally.

Instead, he was already internally preparing to make up some story about someone else if Peter asked about his neck. Thankfully, Alex was smart enough to keep any marks he left on Egon where only he could see them.

Egon was focused on his cooking, he'd made pancakes here a few times before but he was determined to make this a good breakfast for Alex, now that they were actually official.

He was too focused on that to notice just how much Alex was staring at him, watching him like a predator would prey.

It was a nice feeling to know he had this kind of attention. He finally looked over at him though and smirked at the sight before going back to cooking.

Alex knew he had to tear his attention away before Venkman came up here and caught on to something. He was half worried that the place still reeked of sex.

He had quickly thrown the sheets of his and every other bed into the washer with the help of Egon, along with their clothes.

In all terms, nothing was left of evidence.

But Alex kinda wanted there to be.

He really, really liked Egon.

Watching him cook pancakes, for him and Alex, providing like this without being asked, warmed his heart a little bit and he had to catch himself before his brain took off with the thought and started imagining 10 years in the future, to mornings just like this, except maybe with a few little feet running around.

Egon was actually feeling warm at the looks Alex was giving him, it made him feel good that Alex was looking at him like this, that he could make this guy so happy. Egon didn't think of the future, he was just focused on this moment, on making these pancakes. Once he had the batter properly mixed he set the bowl down and pulled out the frying pan, beginning to heat it with grease.

Alex didn’t think anything could ruin his mood today.

That was, almost.

-

After Egon had finished his pancakes, they had both eaten just as Peter finally came upstairs to see them. Apparently he had stopped to check on the car before coming up, so they had more time than they thought.

They conversed casually, and sure enough, as Alex bit into another bite of his pancakes, he watched Peter eye his neck suspiciously.

“WHO gave you those things newsboy?” He asked, smirking.

Alex felt Egon’s leg tense against his, but he didn’t stop eating or show any other sign of being startled, so that was good.

“Just some girl from the bar…” Alex mumbled.

He didn’t know if Egon wanted to be open about it. He wished he had gotten to talk about it with him before everyone had shown up for work the next day. They had a scheduled go over of what they were going to do with the vault and its size soon.

But it was interrupted.

As soon as everyone had crowded around the breakfast nook upstairs, the alarms rang and Janine was yelling from downstairs about some high level poltergeist at the manhattan library. Suddenly, just as fast as they arrived, the boys had taken off in the van, all suited up.

Egon spared him a fleeting glance, and it was packed with a lot, before he had shuffled in and they had flipped the sirens on and pulled off.

Well.

He may as well get some work done for the rest of the day while they were gone.

-

Egon had caught an expression out of the corner of his eye from Peter and Alex's exchange that he didn't like, his jaw was clenching as they were interrupted, but there was no chance to dwell on it right now. He was more worried about Alex, hoping he wouldn't get into any kind of trouble from the lie he'd told. As Egon was going into the van he gave Alex a glimpse of a look that said 'I'll talk to you about it later' before being shut into the van with the rest of the team.

-

Alex had busied himself until the van had pulled up again late in the day.

It was a bad bust. At least a rough one.

There was a loud noise of the garage opening and the van pulled in with the boys in tow. They hoped out one by one.

Peter looked tired, already smoking. Ray was talking frantically to Winston who didn’t seem to be paying that much attention, talking about dinner. And finally, Egon folded himself out of the tight door and seemed to be almost…smoking.

Not, like. Attractive-ness wise.

Like, legitimately smoking.

As in on fire.

Alex rushed over to see what was wrong, but as he approached Egon simply held up the smoking ecto-trap, still steaming from a big catch. He smiled tiredly and looked down at Alex.

Egon looked exhausted and in need of a good shower at the moment, sweat and ash covered him and Alex couldn't find a clean spot on him if he tried. He was panting heavily the moment he made it out of the van since the last ghost they had encountered had been one hell of a fight. His eyes immediately locked with Alex's when he started running over towards him and his face lit up with that tired, sweet smile. He was grateful that the one person he actually wanted to see right now was there to see him.

Alex looked towards the rest of the boys. “Okay boys, beds are freshly made. Go shower and while you do that I’ll order your favorite Chinese takeout!” Alex declared and he could practically feel Egon melt under his touch on his back with his words.

With that, everyone scuddled off to busy themselves.

Egon's shoulders sagged the moment he heard that, his expression suddenly becoming much more relaxed and calm. As soon as the rest of the guys left the room he had wrapped his arms tightly around him again, burying his face down into the crook of his neck.

"I don't feel like you give yourself enough credit Alex, I'm always fed well here."

His words were tired and scratchy, but he was still smiling as he squeezed him tight.

Alex nuzzled back, only slightly bothered by the singed smell of his uniform. That would have to be fixed later.

“Go shower, big guy.” Alex shoved Egon gently off him and towards the showers with the rest of the guys. He wanted him to be clean and feeling good before he gave him a warm meal.

Egon reluctantly let himself be pushed away but he still made good use of the rest room as he stripped off his sweaty clothes and headed into the shower. It wasn't easy to wash the thick layer of sweat and ash from his skin this far in but he was able to at least get it to the point where he didn't smell like he'd been standing next to someone on fire. He got out of the shower after about 20 minutes and put on a clean set of clothes he had kept up here.

As he searched for clothes, he realized a sweater from earlier was missing. He’d have to ask Alex if he’d seen where it had gone, maybe in with the clothes that they ruined last night.

Egon smiled smugly at the thought.

And here everyone thought he had no game.

He shook his head.

It was more than that.

He really, really liked Alex. He felt connected to him, on a deeper level than he did with anybody else on the team. He wanted to come home to him after a long day of kicking ass and saving the world, knowing he was safe and happy.

Egon smiled at the thought happily as he appeared back in the kitchenette, empty save for you even though everyone else had gone off to shower before him.

Egon was content with this moment right now, he was home and he didn't have to worry about his team for a little while longer. And even if Alex was still going through his stuff, and stealing it to wear home, he didn't have any concerns.

"I'm back, how have you been holding up here?" He asked, walking into the kitchenette with a small, gentle smile as he leaned up against the counter. Egon just wanted to keep talking with Alex for a little while longer before they had to actually get busy with work things.

Alex opened one of 3 bags of Chinese food he had ordered while the rest of them were showering.

“I’m okay. That bust looked rough. Wanna’ talk about it?”

Alex asked, bumping his hip playfully against Egon’s in an attempt to keep the mood light even though he knew sometimes talking about scary or close-call busts made Egon get antsy.

Egon's face was still a little bit strained after the bust but he couldn't help but smile when he noticed Alex was trying to keep the mood light, Egon liked that part of him. He couldn't help but chuckle as Alex bumped his hip against him, he knew Alex was trying to help. When the topic of the bust came up, Egon tried to dismiss it.

"Oh it was nothing, the ghost was just a bit stronger than expected but it turned out fine. Don't worry about it."

Alex could tell he was dodging him, but he wasn’t going to push. Egon would come to him when he was ready.

Or, he maybe he could take out his stress with busts a different way now.

Either way, Alex didn’t mind for now.

Presently, he focused on getting the food out of the bags and cleaning Egon’s makeshift science lab off the and onto the counter.

Alex was glad. It looked like they had all survived the night and were doing fine. Egon didn’t seem fussed with him moving them either. Just watched, enraptured, leaning over the rest of the kitchen with arms folded as Alex moved methodically.

Egon's eyes kept on moving from his food to Alex and back again, that sweet smile never leaving his face as he admired the way he went about his work. Egon's stomach was rumbling now that that sweet smell was filling the kitchenette, the smell of the fresh food just making his stomach growl. His hand reached out to try and grab a piece of the food but each time he reached his hand out he stopped himself, not wanting to eat until Alex had a chance to eat something too.

Alex playfully batted at his hand. “Let me grab the others, they went to grab beers from the basement freezer.”

Alex swung himself quickly around the fire pole a few yards away and Egon watched him quickly drop out of view rolling his eyes.

Always dramatic.

Alex was the one that used that silly pole the most despite only being a desk jockey and a PR Princess for the team.

Egon chuckled a little bit as he watched Alex take the fire pole, as much as he thought it was a bit much he was more impressed that Alex could actually pull it off. Egon got too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Alex had left until he was back in just a minute or two with the other guys in tow.

Alex bounded up the stairs and gleefully placed a cold 6 pack down in the center. Janine was even in tow behind the rest of the guys.

Egon smiled gently. It was perfect. All his favorite people.

Alex brushed up against him, smiling with a specific warmth meant only for him.

He clapped his hands together happily. “Okay guys!” He addressed everyone and gestured to the wide spread of Chinese food in the center of the table, with the beer as the centerpiece. “Dig in!”

Egon felt like something had suddenly and unexpectedly popped into place in his life. Like something was just ever so slightly out of alignment, and in this particular moment it all became very, blindingly clear.

It was all perfect.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Final notes: woah!! Okay so that was a long story sorry everyone I have brainrot. Not responsible for my own actions but honestly we need more good ftm shit on this website so I took it upon myself. Hope everyone enjoyed but look out for more stuff soon because I finally feel like actually writing yayyyy :333

[blacklightwriter]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ

Story Summary: EXTREME SLOW BURN. A woman from war-torn Demacia is transported to Zaun, where she makes ends meet. Her skills in inventing catch the attention of a Piltovan, who extends a full ride through Piltover Academy, which she accepts. Here, her adventure begins. Content Warning: Violence, war. Word Count: 3k (yum yum) Author's Note: I am so thankful for the love my first chapter in this story got! It warms my heart. Again, I am new to posting in the fanfic space, so if there's anything I can do to make reading my work an easier experience for you all, please let me know! I hope you enjoy it! The next chapter will be posted tomorrow! Find me on Ao3!

I woke up with a mask on my face and my vision blurry. My head pounded painfully as my eyes moved slowly across my surroundings, trying to make anything out. My throat and lips were dry and everything seemed foggy. The beating in my head slowly got worse, causing me to let out a soft groan.

“Are you awake, doll?” A deep, husky voice asked.

I moved my head in the direction of the voice, taking note of the fact that my body was wrapped in soft blankets and on a couch.

Everything was slowly, but surely coming back. The events leading to me being here. My dad was probably dead and I was no longer home. I was in Zaun.

I saw a large figure sitting in a chair nearby, but I had to squint to make out its features. He was a huge and burly man, his bulging muscles flexing as he uncrossed his arms to pick his chair up and move closer to me. His bearded face showed dark eyes laced with concern.

I opened my mouth to speak to the stranger, but nothing left my mouth. A weird strangled noise came out instead of words and I winced at the slight discomfort, licking my lips in an attempt to get more lubricant to talk.

“Sounds like you need water,” he replied, reaching over to the table next to the couch I was in and grabbing a mug. He turned his attention back to me, moving his hand over to the mask that sat on my face and hovering, his eyes flashing with uncertainty as he looked at me.

“May I?” he asked, his hand still hovering.

I watched him carefully, knowing that being in a new place with new people in a completely different culture, I should be more careful, especially since I was still in Zaun. I had heard that Zaun was one of the least safe places in all of Runeterra if you weren’t vigilant, but the idea of getting anything to satiate the thirst I had seemed to quell that fear. I also couldn’t ignore that he looked at me the same way my dad did whenever he took care of me. If I wasn’t so dehydrated, I might have started to cry.

I nodded slowly and he gently removed the mask, placing the cup to my lips and tilting it back so I could drink. The cool liquid provided relief from the itchy throat and a temporary relief from my thoughts as all I could focus on was how good it felt. I eagerly drank the whole cup, licking my lips as he pulled it away, a smile on his face.

“Someone is thirsty, huh?” he teased, standing up and going to a different room where I heard the sound of water running. He returned with the mug and we repeated the process at least three more times until I finally pushed away from the mug and placed my head on the pillow, my thirst quenched.

I felt those thoughts rush back to me. The loss of my dad standing at the forefront. If they killed him, I’m sure they killed my mother, too. Demacians did not take too kindly to magic, especially when it was right outside the main city. I felt anger towards my parents. How could they be so naive to use magic like that? They knew it was a death sentence for them and yet they still did this. They left me by myself.

I felt tears prickle at my eyes and I turned away from the kind stranger, not wanting to show how weak I was to someone I didn’t know. I needed to get it together.

I heard the man let out a heavy sigh and despite my efforts, tears still silently fell from my eyes, softly pattering onto the pillow beneath me. It was quiet for a moment more.

“My name is Vander, by the way.” His voice a mere whisper.

I let out a sniffle as my nose got congested from my crying, cursing myself for giving myself away. I just wanted to be left alone. That’s all I was. Some silly kid…some silly orphan. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No one to go to. Alone. I felt another wave of tears wash over me, feeling the hole in my heart deepen, a hole that could only be filled by my mother and father.

“Where am I?” I whispered, moving my aching arms to hold myself. A sad attempt to get some comfort from my collapsing world.

“At my bar: The Last Drop.”

I wish I could know where that was. My geographical knowledge was limited to that of what Demacian schools taught us. In class, we had only really discussed important landmarks of Piltover, but rarely ever discussed Zaun. It was deemed unimportant since who, if anyone, would willingly visit Zaun?

I felt exhausted, but I knew I couldn’t stay here forever. I had to figure out my next steps.

I slowly sat up and looked around the room to try to figure out where I was, feeling surprised upon seeing children's clothes and beds. Four beds to be exact. I felt my brows furrow in confusion. There were kids here? In a bar?

“Ah, yeah. My kids were the ones that found you and brought you here. Poor Powder was…well, she is worried sick.” He said, sounding embarrassed.

I turned to him, leaning my weight against the arm of the couch. “Kids?”

He seemed pleased to get some conversation out of me, a small smile playing on his features. A fireplace behind him flickered softly, casting a warm glow into the room.

“Yes. I adopted them off the streets after…” he drifted off, his eyes going distant for a moment before returning. “Well, after they lost their parents in a war.”

War. A common theme for losing people these days it would seem.

“That’s very kind of you,” I whispered, my face looking down at my feet so my hair would hide my face. I didn’t want to give away just how close to home that struck me.

“It’s the least I could do. Although, they have proven to be a bit of a handful.” He chuckled.

It was quiet then. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. I pondered if I could ask him questions. Any person who could take in kids, especially ones who lost their families in a war, had to be a good person, right? Maybe he could help me figure out my next steps?

“If I may,” he said hesitantly, “I noticed when the kids brought you in, you had a necklace.”

I froze and instinctively reached for my father’s necklace, feeling a mixture of relief a sorrow when it was still there, its stone surface cold against my fingers.

“I may not be a well-traveled man, but many o’ folk travel through here for the markets, and I’ve only seen those necklaces on Demacians.” He stated, eyes gauging my reaction to his words.

I gulped, my nerves wracking my body. I didn’t like how a stranger knew so much about me, especially when I was in such a dangerous place.

“It’s made of petricite, right? To weaken magic?”

“What exactly are you asking me?” I hissed, trying to appear scarier than I felt.

He seemed to note my tone. “I only wanted to ask how you got here.” He said cautiously.

I shook my head, trying to hide the fact that the rest of my body was shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was from sorrow or from fear or both, but I knew no matter what, I couldn’t answer. Then all of this would be real, and I had to be having a nightmare right now. Soon, I would wake up in my bed to the smell of breakfast my mother was making and I would hear my dad sing a song he had heard while at work. This was all just an impressively realistic nightmare. It had to be.

“Okay. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, doll. I apologize for overstepping. I just want to make sure you get where you’re supposed to be. A young girl shouldn’t be in the streets by herself.”

Where I’m supposed to be? That’s the question of the hour. How do I tell him that I had nowhere I was supposed to be? No place to call home. Do I lie to him? Tell him the truth?

A soft knock pattered from the door that sat on top of the stairs. I suppose that was the way out of here. The door opened slowly and a small girl with blue hair appeared, peeking carefully inside.

“Not now, Powder.” Vander said sternly, turning the upper half of his body to look at the young child.

She looked at me curiously before moving her eyes to Vander, growing smaller under his gaze.

“Sorry. I heard voices.” She apologized sheepishly, looking at her feet.

“It’s okay,” I said to my own surprise. “I would be curious, too.”

Her eyes flicked back to me, casting a look of gratefulness to me. I found her presence incredibly comforting. This meant that this Vander wasn’t lying, and clearly Powder felt comfortable enough to peek her head in when she heard us talking. My confidence in finding answers with Vander increased.

“Um,” she pushed the door forward, taking a cautious step forward when Vander didn’t protest. “I wanted to ask if you wanted your stuff. The bag that was with you? I figured you might’ve wanted it so I carried that while everyone else carried you.”

I smiled gratefully, nodding. “Yes, please.”

She nodded and returned my smile, going back up through the door. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She departed, leaving the door ajar, her footsteps thumping loudly.

“I apologize. Powder is a bit too stubborn for her own good. Gets it from her sister.” Vander said with an easy smile.

I shook my head, feeling a bit more at relaxed. “I was a lot like her when I was that young. That curiosity never really goes away. At least it didn’t for me.”

He nodded, his eyes flickering in the firelight, his mouth in a tight line as he debated something internally. “Where can I take you? Do you have family visiting in Piltover?”

I felt my body tense up again. That all too familiar sorrow creeping in once more. I looked at him, hoping to communicate with him that I didn’t have anywhere to go with my eyes. Pleading with him to not make me answer that question.

Heavy footsteps approached the door and Powder appeared again, lugging my bag with what looked to be immense effort. I sighed in relief at her appearance.

“Here.” She grunted, bringing the bag clumsily to the foot of the couch and dropping it. “Oops, sorry.”

She looked at me expectantly and I smiled, moving my legs to make room for her to sit, patting the newly free space.

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise and she looked at Vander for permission, to which he nodded. She cautiously sat down next to me, fiddling with her hands nervously.

“So, you aren’t from Zaun, right?”

I shook my head, eyeing my bag and realizing I didn’t even know what all my father put in there. I clenched my jaw, knowing it would be a while before I had the heart to look in there again.

“Well, where are you from?” She asked, her blue eyes burning with curiosity.

“Powder, I think we should give her some time to rest.” Vander protested, but I held my hand up at him to silence him.

“It’s okay, really.” I turned my attention back to Powder. “How much do you know about Runeterra, Powder?”

She giggled at how I said her name, flashing me a toothy grin. “I know all about it! Vi has shown me maps before.”

“Vi?”

“My sister.”

I nodded, making a mental note of this. “Right. Well, do you have one of those maps? Maybe I can show you.”

Her eyes clouded with thought as she contemplated something, before gasping and then heading over to one of the beds and digging underneath it. Clattering noises filled the room as she threw various objects around before she finally pulled out a sheet of paper and brought it over, satisfied with her search, causing me to chuckle. I glanced over it, my fingers skimming the paper, looking carefully for my home. Powder’s eyes glued to my hand. Finally, I saw the city and left my finger on the spot.

“Here,” I murmured, peeking over to her to watch her expression.

“Wow,” she breathed in amazement. “That’s pretty far.”

I nodded, feeling a slight smile tug on my lips as I ignored the aching hole in my chest. “It is.”

“Well, how did you get here?” She asked, plopping back down on the couch and eyeing me curiously.

I swallowed at the question. Was magic banned here like how it was in Demacia? I had to admit, I wasn’t too keen on Zaun politics, and even though Powder was a child, Vander was not. He was listening intently to everything we were saying so I had to be smart about this.

“I…came in from a ship.” I lied. It felt weird lying. It wasn’t something I have ever had to do, but it shocked me at just how good at it I was.

Powder seemed to mull this over, glancing briefly at the map before looking at me with hesitation. “You don’t have to tell me, you know.”

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“We don’t do trade with Demacia. When we do, it’s for the black market and one of those ships hasn’t come in months.”

I scoffed in amazement, feeling my mouth gape. Outsmarted by a kid from Zaun. Not a day I thought I would ever see. I still felt shame from my lie, though. She seemed a bit hurt by it and it was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Powder,” Vander said. “She’s had a long day. Why don’t you give her and I a chance to talk, hm?”

She looked at me with uncertainty before turning her gaze back to Vander and nodding. As she got up, I gently grabbed her hand to get her attention.

“I…I’m sorry for lying. I hope you can forgive me, Powder.”

I hoped she would understand. I found comfort in knowing that she and I have gone through similar things. That I wasn’t alone in this. I didn’t want her to think less of me just because I wasn’t capable of telling her - or myself - what happened.

She nodded much to my relief and smiled softly. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t tell me, either.”

I chuckled and released her hand, watching as she ascended the steps and gently shut the door behind her.

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me anything. You don’t have to, but I do need to know where I can take you. Surely someone is looking for you right now.” Vander murmured, leaning forward until his elbows met his knees.

I bit my lip as I stared at the floor. No, there is not anyone looking for me. I doubt that the Demacian guard cares about the daughter of an inventor who is dead. I had no other family alive and no friends. Nothing to go to. No one to turn to.

“You don’t, do you?” He asked softly. I looked up at him with pleading eyes once more, begging him to understand. I couldn’t possibly say it out loud. His features washed over with an understanding sadness that made me want to cry. Did I truly look so pathetic? Tears stained my cheeks as I looked at him, my bottom lip trembling and I felt the overwhelming urge to scream at how unfair the world was.

After a beat, he stood up and walked over to me, sitting on the couch next to me and opening his arms. With the fire illuminating his features, he appeared to be an older man. A man who has seen and done things he wasn’t proud of. I eyed him wearily before deciding that I didn’t care. If I died, I would be with my family, if I didn’t, I would get temporary relief from this gaping hole in my chest.

I jumped into his arms and felt a sob take hold of my body as he enclosed me in what I could only describe as a fatherly hug. The kind that made you feel safe and warm and that nothing could hurt you while you were there. I knew that feeling because that’s how it felt when my father hugged me.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He whispered to me over and over again, but I couldn’t believe him. How could anything be okay when they were gone? Nothing would ever be okay again. Not while I still lived and breathed and they didn’t. It wasn’t fair. We were a family. We were supposed to do everything together. United.

Now, here I am, crying in the arms of a stranger in a strange place with strange people. All because my family wasn’t here anymore.

“Hey,” he said, pulling back to look at me, keeping a large hand on my shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you need to. It may not be what you’re used to, but our home is welcome to you.”

“I - I couldn’t possibly-“ I gasped between sobs.

“I am not a perfect man, but I was raised that if you see someone in need of help and you can help them, that’s what you do. So, that’s what I do.” His eyes flickered with determination. “Before you argue, you should know that my girls get their stubbornness from me.”

I laughed at that, gratitude filling me as I looked into his eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Vander.” I whispered, nodding.

He pulled me into his arms again. “Whatever you need.”

I cried for a while in Vander’s arms until I felt the exhaustion take hold of me once more and the world faded to black.

[kirkirk]

I think I know what Rejet's next move could be for DL (Soft theory)

-- Rejet's slogan for 2023: REVAMP -reform-. From IwaD's X account

I have a hunch they might have cooked an epic comeback in 2023 and we're already seeing the first hints about where it all could lead to.

Today I was welcomed by every diaboy as kids when I opened twitter and, despite being a pleasant surprise (they all look adorable) it got me thinking.

Before anything, keep in mind that this is only a thought exercise. I myself admit this scenario might be too optimistic.

This last year, IwaD became quite active on their socials (at least from my POV). Doing polls about which merch lines people prefer, minor coloring preferences, interest checks... In their ongoing projects, they intend to open a new cafe, concept room, and store.

Lately, they've been doing a lot of recruitment posts, even going to the extent of making their own website for job listings. That one being:

In their tweet about this, IwaD says the following:

Clearly hinting at Rejet coming back into game/CD development (even tho he might be just doing some damage control).

Coming back to their new merch release (at the time I'm writing this, Millennium Summer, the one with them as kids with sunflowers), the title instantly catches my attention. As the last time they did merch of their younger selves, the set starts with the word 'Millennium'. As if they were trying to build a separate SUBbrand around them as kiddos.

To me, this is interesting in itself, because I enjoy marketing a lot, but this could hint at something bigger. Another odd thing they did lately was releasing YUI MERCH!!! (happy screaming SFX) and for it, they did 7 whole Yui outfits. Kind of a LOT for people that before weren't even thinking about doing any merch with her.

If you think about it, there are tons to say about the diaboys' childhoods. It's true that we know some big canon events, but, taking into account how many years they've been alive, it wouldn't be difficult for them to add some new content there. I know I don't talk for everyone here, but I believe their childhoods to be one of the most fascinating aspects of DL's lore.

Hear me out, what were the last story-related things Rejet released? Daylight and Youngblood. Yes, Youngblood, the mangas about them as children. They were already thinking about this before going on this nightmare of a hiatus.

I truly believe Rejet's next move could be a new game with their childhood selves as protagonists, with Yui taking the role of a storyteller/narrator and using some of her merch outfits as new sprites. She could even be a Karlheinz-like figure, that tries to give advice to the children from time to time.

I haven't researched the personal situation of all of DL's seiyuus, but I know there have been some controversies (such as Ruki's VA getting seriously canceled when the whole DL hiatus thing was starting). This could help avoid any backlash since they'd have to cast new people to do their kiddie voices. This would also be way cheaper for them since most of DL's seiyuus are very famous. No matter how I think about it, this would be a flawless move for them. Heck, they could even lure into DL some of the people who are afraid of the brand due to its original bad press if they turn it into a whole subbrand (which they're already starting to do) with a separate new name and a pretty makeover on top.

On the other hand, if they want to go for drama CDs first, I don't think they would do them from their baby POVs, depending on the voice, they could sound really annoying for a 1 hour CD + I doubt people would buy them at all. In that case, they might do a first run of CDs with the original VA cast (this would also allow them to test whether the public cares about canceled VAs) with our guys retelling a main event from each of their childhoods. This could be a direct segue into a game that would explain each of the new old conflicts.

Again, I know this is foolishly optimistic, I myself I'm hopefully skeptical, but I hope you've enjoyed this thought exercise. Who knows, maybe there's a timeline where Millennium Devils is a thing, or maybe I come from the future.

Update: THEY JUST DID A 4KOMA WITH THEIR MILLENNIUM SUMMER ILLUSTRATION I'M VIBRATING I KNEW IT AAAA

[moonsuke]

Episode Nagi 32

I swear every new release is just confirming to me that knsr will go out of his way to line up events in both series just for Nagi’s storyline. I thought I was delusional thinking that's why the pxg/bm match lasted that long but I’m actually full blown believing that now like, don’t underestimate how much Nagi’s his fav and the attention he would give him 🤡

Either way I really like this epinagi chapter, Nagi got called Nagi-chan it’s canon now!!! And it’s not even in a mocking way! It’s genuine! Thank you Otoya!! And Karasu! Suddenly they shot up real high in my favorability ranking lol. Epinagi really is a gift that keeps on giving when it comes to cute Nagi interactions. Like how happy Zantetsu is over their victory and jumping all over Nagi-chan! I just love their relationship so much, they already have such a strong start with their heart to heart in the bath and finding each other cool. Like their relationship is just so nicely set up for such a “small” pair.

Nagi caring for Chigiri is cute too, and I love when Chigiri’s like “yea I just don’t get geniuses” to my whimsical babygirl going “it’s the shape of our dreams” lmao. Chigiri is just so easy going when it comes to Nagi, not in a pampering him sort of way, but like he knows when to just accept Nagi’s eccentricities and genius and when/how to work around his weaknesses. Their boundaries and personalities just click I feel!

Also I swear this is some sorta meta where our biggest Nagi defender himself (Kaneshiro) is hitting back at people calling Nagi manipulative lol:

Broke: Himizu 🤡

Woke: Otoya (and Karasu) 😇

So yey, he got us Nagi fans’ back! (He’s one himself too)

-

But of course nothing beats their talk with Ego! I love that he gave such a philosophical one to them. “To you, who will die someday” is just such a badass and impactful title the way it’s phrased. Its cute that Nagi’s initial answer to his question was “dreams” as contrasted with Barou’s “God” and Kiyora’s “love”, says a lot about their personalities and really further emphasizes Nagi’s pure and idealistic nature. It’s so precious seeing him reflect back on his personal growth and how he sees that as him getting stronger rather than purely using soccer as a metric. Now he can even be on the same wavelength as Ego! Them having a decent conversation, Nagi even managing to answer him correctly with “because death was always close?”, was really cute (And yes it is Nagi, especially for you in the main series).

Nagi really be collecting death flags left and right lol. I want his “death” to be done well please, it’s my biggest fear that it’s not. It’s not even whether he’ll die or not (he should), I just want his story and character to be written well!

Even in bllk 295, ReoNagi mentioned “death” and that’s why I keep saying knsr’s linking up both series just for Nagi’s sake (I think I’ve been saying this since the last epinagi chap lol). Then in latest epinagi too, there’s Karasu commenting how his naïveté regarding duos will plunge him to despair someday, and of course Ego’s whole death speech. Pretty sure an interview mentioned that Ego’s supposed to be the objective narrative voice of the series so yea, amazing how he’s foretelling their (really just Nagi’s) death here, and again shows that knsr’s linking stuff up.

When it comes to Reo, I’m pretty sure he’s meant to be a parallel to Nagi’s journey (knsr loves his parallels) and maybe that’s why they’re never on the same page lol. So if Nagi holds a certain stance/narrative, Reo’ll take the other. Seems like second selection is when Reo hit his lowest point (death and he even got chosen by a demon), while Nagi’s being all excited about soccer and change. Their stance on duos also flipped since initially it was Reo who’s unable to let go of their partnership while Nagi had that internal monologue of needing to be independent from Reo (and Isagi). But now it seems like we’re heading towards Nagi gaining a fondness for partnerships as a result of realising Reo’s hurt feelings and perspective, and how other duos are able to work together yet still be strong? But with Reo, now we have him being the one who’s like I need to get stronger on my own lol.

Knsr really meant it when he said the premise of epinagi is how different situations lead to different paths for different people, and how that can lead to miscommunication. It’s so dramatic. The intention is really obvious in the last page:

I almost feel bad for Reo for this contrast but I feel like as per usual knsr style, it’s done in an exaggerated manner to tone down the severity lol. I think his scenes in this chapter again reinforces that Reo’s character is written by default with a more “macho” trope but many people think otherwise. Like the art style with the intense lines, details and shadings of his expression, plus the whole shower scene and him stoically facing his weaknesses and tears alone there, it’s meant to show a man going through it before regaining his resolve, though it’s definitely very exaggerated here lol.

-

Since Nagi’s death is pretty eminent, I’m wondering if his skull aura will evolve into an angel of sorts after his rebirth, since there’s quite a few instances where he’s associated with them. Initially I was wondering if it’ll become human but that’s kinda lame having a human aura lol. So I think angels are pretty fitting because it symbolised that he “died” but has ascended to heaven/into the light.

I feel like Nagi in general is very suited to creatures that can fly, but animal auras just don’t seem to suit him since he’s so otherwordly? I know he’s currently a babychick but eggs and chicks have often been linked to angels right?

Also in this epinagi chapter, Reo compared Shidou to Nagi but he called Shidou a demon prodigy. So there’s the implication that Nagi’s an angel prodigy then? A lot of people have pointed out the similarities between their “genius acrobatic” playstyle and Shidou always had his devil wings aura when he’s performing his aerial feats. For Nagi, so many of his iconic moves had him midair for seconds to trap and control the ball, it really looks like he can levitate (and control space/time) so I think having wings fit him too. I swear if Blue Lock is a superpower universe, Nagi would have the ability to fly/levitate for sure, and it suits his lazy nature too.

In general from what I think of how knsr views Nagi, he seems to like portraying him as a pure, naive childlike, “white” being which just fits the angel theme. But then he contrasts it with death, skulls, and “black” when he’s locked in and that’s why Nagi’s character colour is grey I suppose. Idk, angels seem to fit right into death, rebirth, black holes, supernovas, babychick, seeking “light/heat” etc symbolisms, but guess we shall see :D

Next chapter’s title is 羽ばたき too but I guess it’s likely referring to Nagi taking flight facing the world five? But again, flight is a theme!

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 61-70: Waking up and choosing violence

Hello everyone and welcome back to another week of ramblings about TMA, its characters and, most importantly, its mysteries. Will I ever find an answer to at least one of them? I doubt it, but I’ll keep putting together as many pieces as possible and one day I’ll prove to everyone that the All Michael Theory is the only valid one. And not just because it’s the silliest.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post 

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MAG 61 - Hard Shoulder

Wow, what a start!

We have a new voice: Alice “Daisy” Tonner joins the cast and proves herself to be one of the most badass women - as well as another character who woke up and chose violence. Huge respect for her (with a sprinkle of fear).

Basira suspected Jon was Gertrude’s killer? You know what? From the police’s perspective, this reasoning makes sense: it doesn’t seem like Gertrude had any relatives and Jon was the only one close to her (at work, at least). And, as Daisy said, he showed a ton of weird behaviors and weird behaviors are the first red flag for a suspect. Also, Jon is the only one who actually gained something from Gertrude’s death and that’s even more suspicious.

Awww, Jon was sad Basira suspected of him! Is he starting to feel something from her? Will he end up asking her phone mumber, then a date, then her hand in marriage?

I also find it very interesting that Jon asked Daisy to tell him something about the supernatural events she dealt with. It’s the first time Jon actively wanted a statement. Even weirder, he didn’t ask for a specific one, but any statement. “Whatever you like”, he told her.

That’s a bit odd, isn’t it? In season 1, Jon said he was getting too involved in the statements, now he’s actively asking for new ones. Is this all related to the “crimson fate”/curse? Is this Big brother’s influence? If I was right by saying that Big Brother can somehow “eat” the statements, that means Jon is unconsciously feeding this supernatural shit?

Speaking of the statement, I was HYPED when I found out that the delivery van was from Breekon & Hopes deliveries. Even better, they were transporting the coffin! Coffin from MAG 2 my beloved! And we also find out what’s inside it!

Once again, I’ll quote Jon: the content was surprising, indeed. I expected some creepy shit to come out but we got a weird staircase going somewhere down. It just made me even more curious about the coffin’s origin and now I want to know more: where does that staircase bring? I hope we will find out in some future statement.

Also, what’s with that weird static/vibration? I thought it was just a background sound added by TMA’s author to create the right atmosphere. But since it was mentioned in the transcripts too, I’m starting to fear it has something to do with the plot. Is it related to Micheal? Or Daisy? Or maybe the tape recorder suddenly broke because yes? No idea, but I love that we’re starting with so many mysteries.

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MAG 62 - First Edition

HOLY SHIT, MARY KEAY.

Yep, that was my reaction when I found out who this “Mary” was. And her voice is adorably creepy. Love it.

But as Jon said, there is a lot here. And by a lot I mean A LOT.

*

1) Mary and the Institute

The Keays worked for the Institute?! Of course, that’s how they found out about a lot of this weird shit, gosh I feel so stupid for not realizing it sooner!

But Mary also talks about her mother’s “slavish devotion to you and your patron”. Who is the patron? Elias? A member of the Lukas family? Big Brother itself?

*

2) Same side?!

Mary said she and Gertrude are on the same side “Even if Elias disagrees”. That can mean two things only:

Mary Keay is on Big Brother’s & the Lukas' side, even if Elias thinks she’s not so trustworthy

Mary Keay is on the opposite side, but she doesn’t know her job is actually helping Elias/the Lukas/Big Brother

Which theory is the right one? It depends on what side Gertrude was: if she was against Big Brother it’s one thing, if she was pro Big Brother it’s a different one.

*

3) Powers that watched over?

It’s very telling that Mary said Dr. Margaret Tellison was “touched by powers like those that watched over our family”. That confirms the Keays are associated with a supernatural shit - or that a supernatural shit watches over them, at least. Which one? Gosh, I hope to find out.

But also: if there was a supernatural shit watching over them, the Keays should worship it, right? So, why did Mary say “I’ve always found a singular devotion far too restrictive”? Maybe she doesn’t just worship the one watching over them, but a lot of different ones?

On a side note: who the fuck is Eric?

*

4) A Not-Leitner - and actually not a single one was

And here on the left, we can see TMA’s author trolling me with the book that drops bones, by making me think that yes, that’s surely a Leitner. It was also in Leitner’s weird hidden library, of course it’s a Leitner.

And here I find out that actually no, it’s just a fucking pointless book and it was gifted to Leitner by Mary Keay herself.

So not only we find out the Keays and Leitner interacted, but Mary gifted him a book and in MAG 35, among all the 200 Leitners that he could’ve picked from the hidden library, Gerard chose that one: the most useless one. Maybe mommy didn’t teach him well enough how to find them.

But also: Gertrude asked Mary “Who does the book come from?”, which implies Leitner didn’t write it. And Mary herself opened her statement by saying he “collected” them.

That means Leitner never actually wrote these books. He just put a stamp on them. This Norwegian motherfucker simply took books from all the supernatural shits and collected them in his secret library.

What an absolute fucker, he tricked me into thinking he was some kind of evil genius, while he’s just a collector/archivist of sorts. But hey, in this case, I want to know what the fuck happened to him. Where is he, now?

*

5) The End!

A-ah, here is the name of another supernatural shit! This one is called the End, but who or what it is? Mary Keay says “I could never truly serve it - I just don’t find death that interesting”, so the End is death, I suppose. Could it be the same from “Cheating Death” (MAG 29)? It wasn’t exactly a person, but more of a force that took different people. However, we also found out that these supernatural shits can be concepts too, so it could work.

Gosh, I’m so excited! We are starting to get more names of these little shits!

*

6) Mary Keay woke up and chose violence

In one statement, she:

insulted the Institute, by calling the Artefact Storage a “collection of mediocrity”

insulted Leitner by calling him “boring”

killed Dr. Tellison because she didn’t use her power for worthy causes 

insulted tea (which is probably the most outrageous insult for Brits)

insulted Elias’ lazy ass (“He’s not exactly big on action though, is he.”)

insulted the “fake Leitner book”

Sheesh, this woman literally woke up and decided to kill everything on her way. I stan.

*

7) A laptop!

Jon found Gertrude’s laptop and a weird key! More mysteries! More weird stuff! What does this key open? What does the laptop hide? No idea, but I’m thrilled!

_______________________________

MAG 63 - The End of the Tunnel

Ah, so there it is. The Dark, Maxwell Rayner or whatever its name is. The supernatural shit related to darkness, that one.

And… it looks weirdly similar to the figure from MAG 3. Is Not!Sasha an appendix/servant/part of this supernatural shit? Or is it just a coincidence that they look very similar?

Also, is this what happened to Sasha too? Not!Sasha killed her by decapitating her shadow? That’s a very awful death, fine, but it’s also extremely cool. What a sick way to kill, so creative! Love it.

There could be a connection between the Church of Saint James and the People’s Church of the Divine

Host? Maybe, why not? After all, if these things can be worshipped, why not do it in an actual church? Best cover-up. Also, the priest took the camera from Miss Gallagher-Nelson, so it’s very possible he did it to prevent any photo of their supernatural god from going out.

Melanie King is back! I remember her and okay, it’s kinda sad her career is over in the “fake supernatural Youtube department”. Hey, maybe she can find a place here in the Archives! Honestly, it would be interesting if she becomes Jon’s sort-of-protege and he teaches her about his Archivist job. I don’t wish for him to die or for her to become Big Brother’s new food/body/whatever, but I would enjoy a master/protege connection between them anyway.

_______________________________

MAG 64 - Burial Rites

A statement about a mummy that cannot die? Very cool and I love that it’s a nice variant of the trope: “evil mummy wants to kill you”. Rather than you, this mummy was a lot more interested in killing themselves and you can see their desperation in how they took the knife and tried to stab themselves. I felt some pity for this poor creature who just wanted to end their misery.

Considering we recently talked about the End and remembered MAG 29, I suppose this mummy is one of the immortal humans that defeated death, became death, passed the role to someone else and were left with a very uncomfortable immortality - an immortality that apparently goes beyond having your organs removed and your body being closed in a tomb.

Wow, just imagine how awful and terrifying it would’ve been, to feel your organs being removed and your body trapped in a tomb and yet, you still cannot die. It’s a super cool concept and I love it.

Awww, Jon and Basira are bonding even more. This time, over their mutual inability to be proper spies. They’re getting ready for marriage XD

Aside from that, Jon’s attachment to the statements is starting to be a bit concerning. At first, he simply asked for them, now he literally went to the police station because he wanted more statements. Are we sure this poor guy is okay? I mean, I know he’s not, but this weird “hunger for statements” is way more worrisome than some “simple” paranoia.

_______________________________

MAG 65 - Binary

Speaking of this statement, there are a few things I really liked.

First of all, I generally enjoy “deep web-ish” digital horror stories that revolve around the contrast between humans and machines. Hence why, the story of a guy who successfully uploaded his own mind into a computer immediately got my attention.

Second, I liked how this concept was handled here. It wasn’t the usual “scary chat with the dead” idea, but we got a whole ass video instead, featuring a guy eating his computer one piece at a time. A video that keeps following you on every device forcing you to look at it in full. Very cool and very creative.

Third, this particular sentence from Mrs. Tessa: “I can’t stop wondering what it must be like to try and have thoughts, messy human thoughts, trapped in the rigid digital processes of a computer.”. I think it perfectly encapsulates this concept, the situation, the video and its distorted way of communicating.

Oh, so Tessa didn’t come to the Institute just to record a statement: it was Jon who “lured” her there, to get the tech help he needed in order to access Gertrude’s laptop. Glad to see this man is still very clever, despite his paranoia.

MY BOY TIM. MY PRECIOUS BOY TIM. He woke up, entered Jon’s office and decided that violence was not enough, so he used extra violence and:

destroyed Jon, by calling him “you pompous idiot” and telling him he should’ve been fired

destroyed Martin, Sasha, Elias and, if there were some worms, he would’ve destroyed them too. Twice.

I mean, not that he hasn’t a valid reason to be frustrated. While everyone (me included) was worried about Jon’s paranoia and stalking tendencies, no one asked him “Hey, Tim, how are you?”. The poor boy was literally left alone to deal with his own shit. Of course he’s frustrated and angry. Of course he wants to leave.

And it’s immensely tragic that Jon understands, he even offers Tim to leave if he says it… but Tim can’t. And Jon can’t fire him either. And I bet everything that it’s all because of Big Brother’s influence. Goddamn Big Brother.

Hence why, I will soon run into this series, grab Tim and throw him out of this place. My boy needs to relax, possibly in a huge beautiful spa, surrounded by people ready to serve him and give him all the comforts he needs.

Tim deserves all of this.

_______________________________

MAG 66 - Held in Customs

Two lines into this statement and I am perplexed already. What does that mean this is a “Statement of Vincent Yang regarding his claimed imprisonment by Mikaele Salesa”? Now Salesa is kidnapping people too? Wtf?!

But no, the truth is that Mr. Yang basically kidnapped himself by touching something he shouldn’t have touched. And even if Salesa told him “don’t go to sleep”, he did it anyway.

And if all of this wasn’t weird enough, he got rescued by Peter Lukas, who was basically trying to buy that weird wooden crate from Salesa, opened it up and found this poor fucker inside. Best rescue ever.

Jon might be the most paranoid man on the planet, but he’s also the most relatable too. First, he gives the perfect definition of Salesa:

Then he reads my thoughts and anticipates me:

Then he finds out Gertrude was trying to buy a Leitner! And she even managed to get three books:

a special printing of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, by John Ruskin

a copy of The Key of Solomon

a 1910 pamphlet simply entitled A Disappearance

which translated from writer to reader means:

more supernatural architects

a well-known book with a weird twist

a future statement

And yes, Jon is right again about Gertrude: the question isn’t who killed her but why. What did she learn? I thought she just wanted to say “fuck you” to Big Brother and escape from her destiny. But what if she was trying to do something different? I  don’t know if she wanted to connect with it/defy it/connect with another supernatural shit, but oh boy, I can’t wait to find out.

_______________________________

MAG 67 - Burning Desire

Ooooh, a statement about Agnes Montague! Aaaaand we didn’t learn more about her than what we already knew: she’s associated with fire, she probably has some kind of pyrokinetic powers and she’s a supernatural shit - sort of.

This was (probably) confirmed by her words about having destiny. When Mr. Barnabas told her he doesn’t really have one, she replied with “That must be nice”: almost as if she has a very specific destiny to fulfill and can’t escape from it. Maybe because she became the body of some supernatural shit? And since then, she acquired new weird powers, but she also lost the human freedom of making her own destiny and being her own person. Once again, it reminds me of Michael and the importance of identity for some of these creatures.

Okay, time to recap the members of this Cult of the Lightless Flame for future reference:

Diego Molina, the guy who was in the hospital with Gerard (and died in a fire)

Arthur Nolan, Jane Prentiss’ landlord (died in a fire)

another unidentified guy (I bet he also died in a fire)

a short, muscular Asian woman, with a tattoo of a burning guy

Agnes Montague, who is probably the Lightless Flame. Or its embodiment

Also, what did the Asian woman mean, when she said Agnes could’ve been “released” if she did some job? What kind of job it was? Was it related to MAG 8? She felt when the tree was pulled down, after all…

There are still a lot of things to learn about Agnes Montague and this cult, so I can’t wait to know more.

One last thing about the cult: wow, Jon, dramatic much? I use names like “supernatural shit” and “Spider Gang”, you use names like “Cult of the Lightless Flame”. If I were you, I would’ve called these people “Fire Gang” or something similar. But hey, maybe that’s why I’m not the protagonist of this story XD

Speaking of Jon… he wants to visit the tunnels again. Sigh. Life still has so much to offer, Jon. Why trying so hard to get killed? If even Elias “Suspicious” Bouchard is telling you to chill, then you know something’s wrong.

But hey, I suppose Jon should do some stupid shit to end this second season. And what better way to end it, if not by waking up whatever terror is hidden in those tunnels?

_______________________________

MAG 68 - The Tale of a Field Hospital

I said before that it’s a shame most of these statements “have the same voice”, so I was pleasantly surprised by the language used here. Mr. Russo uses a very elegant, poetic way of speaking, especially at the beginning: it conveys the image of an artist very well and it helps differentiate him from other people.

Here we are, back with John Amherst after seeing him dying/not dying in MAG 36. And guess what, he’s a supernatural shit as well. Everyone is a supernatural shit in this world.

In this case, he’s probably The Disease or something similar. I’ll call him the Disease, until I will find out what is his shit’s actual name.

While speaking of the powers, it looks like he gets infected all the time, dies and comes back to life. But hey, look at the bright side: at least he doesn’t feel miserable about it. On the contrary, he seems pretty joyful and he even jokes about being “such a restless man”. Glad to see he takes death so funnily. I wonder what the End thinks of this little fucker.

Was this book a Leitner? I don’t know, it seems like one. After all, the book is about the supernatural shit, so… maybe? I’m not sure :/ I hope we will find a list of all the Leitners or I’ll have to tackle the Norwegian motherfucker and ask directly to him.

Wow, Jon didn’t wait two seconds: as soon as he got the key to the tunnel, he immediately went down and got lost. Right after Elias told him to not do too many secret explorations and put himself in danger.

Look, Jon, look what you’re making me do: agreeing with Elias.

Luckily, Not!Sasha was lurking around like the creepy imposter it is and it seemed like Jon noticed something weird about her. Something small, sure, but still something. Will he find out by the end of season two?

_______________________________

MAG 69 - Thought for the day

So we’re finally meeting, spider lady.

It took her a long time to appear but hey, I suppose that since she’s (probably) the leader of the Spider Gang, she was waiting for the right time to make her entrance.

For what I saw in this statement, she looks both fine and scary as fuck and, just like every woman in this series likes to do, she wakes up and chooses violence. In this case, violence with a side dish of “projectors” doing some magical weird circle.

Uhm… mood, I suppose?

The relationship between Jon and Tim truly went downhill, didn’t it? And I like how it’s addressed because:

I’m not the one who realizes it’s because of Jon’s paranoia - Jon himself knows it. He literally told Martin that working is all they can do together now. He proves he’s still a clever, well-written character.

Even if we feel sad and frustrated by this situation, we can also understand why Jon became so paranoid. And it’s because the story until now makes sense, the events have a logical progression and the development isn’t rushed. Everything happened for a reason and there was always a logical explanation behind it.

Even if we as readers feel like Jon did a lot of stupid shit, deep down we know we would’ve probably done the same, if we were in his same place.

About the last point, it can also apply to Jon’s growing curiosity. Let’s not fool ourselves: we’re also very curious to know what’s hidden in those tunnels. We’re scared to find out, just like him. We know that, last time Jon went down there, some supernatural shit (which I suppose is not Michael?) told him to go away. He knows that too.

But hey, I suppose there’s a reason why curiosity is one of mankind’s strongest aspects. We are all curious and we all would do stupid shit just to satisfy it.

And if some of us maybe won’t go down these scary tunnels, we can still understand Jon, when he says:

“I should just leave it. They’re right. But I can’t not know.”

I just hope this man won’t end up dying just to satisfy his need to know.

_______________________________

MAG 70 - The Book of the Dead

Once again, we have a concept already explored in other works. But, again, I love how it’s handled here: some creative choices are wonderful and I need to give them the attention they deserve.

First of all, how the book looks very old at the start and gets progressively “newer” over the centuries. It gives it more “personality”, you know? And it’s more fitting for the concept of a book that talks about the death of several people throughout history.

Second, it’s a very specific book, that illustrates violent deaths only. This makes it more convincing too, because not everyone in the world dies of violent death.

Third, I adore the idea that death changes according to your own choices. The exact moment Mr. Murray decided not to visit Lancashire, his death changed. Every time he made a new decision, his death changed. And it drew closer too, which contributes to the sense of dread and inevitability typical of death.

And speaking of the inevitability of death, I like how it portrays it here. Death is inevitable, not because “your fate is predetermined and you cannot escape from it”: you can actually change it. But death will still be there. Even if there is no predetermined destiny, death is still inescapable. Great way to convey this concept, loved it so much.

I also found particularly fascinating how, after Mr Murray’s death, there were white pages. Why? Is it because he didn’t pass the book to someone else? Is it because he tried to destroy it? Where is this book now? Are the pages still white?

Yes, Jon, I know. I also thought this Norwegian motherfucker called Jurgen Leitner was the author of these books and yes, I also thought he sold his soul/talked to Big Brother and gained some magical creepy powers. But nope, Leitner is just a guy who took all these books and put them together because… I don’t know, I suppose he woke up one day and said “violence is not enough, I want to see the world burn”. This absolute fucker.

And speaking of more books, it looks like we lost Gertrude’s copy of The Key of Salomon. I suppose she didn’t want to see the world burn, but just this book. But why? Uuuurgh, there are so many juicy mysteries and still so few answers!

_______________________________

In conclusion

I suppose the only real answer we got here is that Leitner is an even bigger imposter than Not!Sasha, because he tricked us into believing he was some kind of genius/powerful entity, while he’s actually just a collector. He’s still a creepy collector and it’s thanks to him we know about these books, but still. Not cool pretending to be more than you are, man. Not cool.

We also learned more about the End (and yes, I suppose The Book of Dead is theirs) and I finally met the spider lady. These little supernatural shits are introducing themselves one by one and I’m thrilled to see more of them, but I’m also asking myself: how will Mr. Sims (TMA’s author) handle all of these characters? Usually, the more characters you have, the more difficult is to handle them all and give each of them a distinct personality/characterization. I hope he has clear plans, because I have high expectations and want to see what his writing choices will be.

Gosh, next week season 2 will end and oh boy, am I scared. Jon is still paranoid, the relationships are all over the place, Not!Sasha is still an imposter and there is a suspicious lack of Michaels. Where are they? Will my Best Boyo come back from the war (he didn’t want to take part in)? Will everyone keep waking up and choosing violence? We will find out next week, I suppose.

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[adaru32]

The Red Devil's Chronicles - Feb. 2025 Devil May Cry News Updates: Netflix, Hints, etc.

Hey, how's it going? Here are the latest Devil May Cry news updates I've gathered:

1. New Dante statue made by a couple artists. b) NabeHands has been busy with their crafting. c) And a group called 3DCG is making a life-sized Dante statue that will be showcased in Japan somewhere.

2. A Morphicon event took place in either August, September, or October of 2024. Vergil’s voice Dan Southworth hints at another voice acting role he’s gonna star in. b) This caused a bunch of rumours of a new Devil May Cry game to surface. c) Along with Nero's voice Johnny Bosch plausibly hinting at something in the making. d) And Dante's voice Reuben Langdon also plausibly hinting something.

3. More Dante merch available at the Capcom store.

4. Former Devil May Cry director Hideki Kamiya shares something interesting, which is about where the Devil May Cry world fits in with the games he directed.

5. Johnny Long (aka Johnny Vincent) has finished their fan video.

6. The first episode clip of the Netflix series has been shown publicly, along with a fun bit from Johnny Bosch and Adi Shankar (skip to 1:39:10 of the video).

My Thoughts On These Updates:

1. Glad we're getting more awesome figures being made. Too bad I still don't have the room for them (yet).

2. I'm surprised that I missed that Morphicon info last year. Then again, hardly anybody's talked about it until recently, and I'm not too big into Power Rangers which made me assume that it was gonna be just Power Rangers talk there. With these hints surfacing, I'm just gonna sit back, and try not to get my hopes up too much. In other words, I'm just gonna wait and see what we eventually get.

3. 2nd time recently now where it shows Capcom still cares about Devil May Cry and wants to do more with it.

4. I'm surprised Kamiya's still talking Devil May Cry since he doesn't own the rights to it anymore, and how he wants more Bayonetta talk since Bayonetta's his property. Maybe him collaborating with Capcom on some things have inspired him.

5. Not bad of a fan project. Not sure what else to say, but not bad.

6. All I can say about the Netflix clip shown is that I like what's happening so far, and still looking forward to its release. The only criticisms I have are how it's gonna take some accustoming to with Johnny's voice, and the animation is a bit choppy. Then again it's understandable that when you're on a timer and making action sequences like that, you gotta make some quality sacrifices. Every video game, TV show, project, anime, etc. does this. And Johnny does great with what he does, it's just the mix of Nero/Vash voices that's gonna take some getting used to.

The main thing I'm having a problem with it though is the foolish discourse that's happening between the fans. People just can't keep their heads straight and do their research can they? Instead they'd rather judge books by their covers, label people with slurs and other offensive things, are afraid to be in the wrong, and would rather stick with whatever happens in a game or 2, their own head-canons, fanfics, memes, and/or fan arts. It's funny...They want a Devil May Cry 6 to happen so bad, but who's to say we're ever gonna get one now that they're acting like this.

I admit that there were times where I got petty and harsh towards those that were acting idiotic, and I feel ashamed and am sorry for giving off that behaviour. Glad things are toning down a bit for now, and that Johnny and Adi are taking the harshness of the rabid fans really well. Looking forward to April.

[bluegekk0]

Regarding the most recent ask, it was mentioned that grimm helped set up several town events

I’d like to know what kind of events, holidays, meetings or ceremonies would be held in dirtmouth?

Like Would the town regularly have hall meetings addressing the current status of things for example?

Most of those events have to do with holidays, and those are usually connected to seasons. I intend for there to be two seasons throughout the year: winter and summer (with possible unique names that I haven't thought of yet). The year begins once winter changes to summer, and that calls for new year celebration, where the bugs reminisce on the year that just passed, and wish for the following year to be prosperous. Similarly, when summer changes to winter, another holiday happens. I really like the idea of calling their winter something along the lines of "long night" since that's the period where the sun appears very briefly throughout the day, if at all. Perhaps some kind of celebration similar in spirits to our Halloween would also happen. And of course, a holiday related to the end of the infection is a must, the bugs would undoubtedly celebrate every anniversary of the day it vanished.

Grimm helps with organizing those since he has a lot of experience with attending such events, and a lot of knowledge and ideas on ways to make them mode interesting and engaging for the community. He undoubtedly introduced some traditions previously unknown to the Hallownest bugs, and of course, he has a Troupe which are masters at performing (and have a music crew, an essential part of any celebration)

For more exact details on the seasons and holidays, I'm planning to add holidays as an article on the lore page, so I'd love to share more then.

As for meetings, I definitely think those happen periodically. There isn't a specific leader in Dirtmouth, but I do think they appoint an elder who's in charge of those meetings. Elderbug would fit the role well, I think, he's very respected and is one of the oldest inhabitants of Dirtmouth. The meetings would most likely take form of discussions about the development of the town, latest news and events, organization of holidays, any kinds of weddings or similar celebrations, and so on. Anyone can attend the meetings, and those who hold a valuable role in the community (such as the farmers and hunters who ensure a consistent food supply, Vyrm who's responsible for renovations, and so on) are especially welcome to attend and voice their mind. If there is an important matter that needs to be decided, then a vote is held, and the elder's main role is to count all the votes and then announce the results. Dirtmouth is a very small town, so I do think that every inhabitant's opinion would be valued. The town was built on the community and its group efforts, the bugs all cooperate and support one another, so maintaining this dynamic is at the top of the priority list if Dirtmouth is to prosper. And for that to happen, voices need go be heard.

The meetings would be held in the longhouse, a large building located at the center of the town. That is also where all celebrations are being held, so it's very big, with extra storage rooms and a kitchen connected to it, a fireplace, barrels for wine and mead, a large table waiting to be set up, and even a small scene for the Grimmkin crew to perform and play music, and so on. Visually it would resemble a Viking longhouse (since that kind of style is a big inspiration for the AU version of Dirtmouth) with some of the Hollow Knight aesthetic introduced, naturally. I'll definitely draw at least the outside once I get to remaking the map/panoramic view of the town.

[vanilkaray]

Many years after that event, in New York City

———————————————————————

On a deserted street, when everyone was sleeping after a long day of work, somewhere on the rooftops of buildings, a laugh that sounded extremely happy and excited was heard.

A turtle-shaped creature that could stand and act like a human was running and jumping from one building to another. Following that creature was another creature that looked exactly the same but it gave us the feeling that the creature was nagging the other creature.

“Leonardo! Keep it down! This is our first time on the surface!… well, even though we sneak peak without Dad’s permission and you were the one who insisted that we should go out and i reluctantly agreed… But that doesn’t mean we can make a mess here!!”

“Come on, Michelangelo, or should I call you Mikey? Let’s just relax! I'm sure no one will see us. Moreover, with our Ninjutsu, I'm 100% sure that no one will see us. Haha!"

The grumbling creature wore a dark blue eye mask, but the special highlight was the orange spots and the goggles. It wore a black scarf with a red symbol embroidered on it, black pants and gloves that were quite large for its small body and was called Mikey according to the person wearing the dark orange eye mask. Perhaps the most prominent feature was the fishnet stockings that were only worn on one leg while the other leg was only wrapped in black bandages and according to Mikey, the creature's name was Leonardo

i"But today is our mutation anniversary! Our day! We should be free!!"

Another voice was heard, this time the creature was wearing a green eye mask and a bow, the tail of the creature was tied with a bell that shook with the creature whenever the creature moved… It seemed that this creature was quite grumpy, looking silly but still trying to chase the other two

“You too Donnie!?”

“That’s right, D!! We’re at the age of rebellion!!”

“Leo, you’re only 16…”

“So what? I’m still young while you still can’t pass your emo phase Miche-lame-lo”

“Ugh… you still owe me a cup of black coffee…”

Mikey could only sigh and shake his head in disappointment but honestly he had wanted to go to the surface for a long time. Ever since he had his memories, he remembered his father always telling them not to go to the surface until they were old enough. As for his other three siblings, he was already 22 years old but Mikey himself sometimes felt like he was the real father in this family… His father wasn’t very serious, well he was serious but not that much…

The three of them played around doing things they’d never done before… actually it was just the two of them playing around because Mikey still had to keep an eye on them to avoid them getting too carried away and being discovered by humans.

After a while of playing around, Leo was giggling and lying on the roof of the building while Mikey just leaned against the railing

“What a f-“

“Bad day”

“Hey you party pooper!!!”

So the two of them argued back and forth while Donnie just laughed and turned back to look at the night city.

“It’s a pity that Raphie couldn’t enjoy the moment again.”

Mikey and Leo suddenly stopped and thought for a long time before Mikey spoke up

“I also… feel sorry for him, his body doesn’t allow him to go out much and I’m also afraid that he might get sicker.

Mikey, Donnie and Leo were now even more thoughtful than before until Donnie suddenly spoke up and pointed at something below.

.

.

.

“Hey, is that what human do when they want to invite someone into the car?”

“What did you say?”

Mikey heard and turned around to look at what Donnie was pointing at.

“Hey, I don’t think so, it might be kidnapping, looking at that girl’s expression, it’s very um, what did I say?” I like was the main character but turned out to be a supporting character and failed…”

“Oh, maybe they’re playing around? :D”

Mikey squinted his eyes despite wearing contact lenses to think about whether he should intervene or not. Leonardo, who was lying down, also had to get up because he smelled the action

“I smell it, we have to act!! We have to save the girl!”

Leo had just finished speaking then he pulled out his two Katanas from his waist and jumped down.

“H-Hey! Wait!… Ugh! Always acting before thinking… Don, help me!”

Mikey sighed again and pulled out his nunchaku with a blade attached and also jumped down. Seeing this, Donnie used both hands to cover up his giggling and also jumped down

“We’re going to play pretend with them, right!? Yeeeeeee!!! It’s so fun”

[frogshipping]

How They Got Together: Viti and Goku

This is a little post series I'm doing to explain how my s/i('s) get with a specific f/o. These are going to be summaries and not actual oneshots about the pairings (though they get long. Especially this one, because there's a lot of details!). The writing isn't even close to my best work due to the nature of it being a summary, so don't judge my skills based on this series

With that said, let's talk about my main selfship:

Viti zapped into the Dragon Ball Z universe at the beginning of the Buu saga, just in time to sign up for the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai. Viti hadn't yet realized what universe she was in; only that there was a fighting tournament going on, and that she wanted to compete. After changing outfits, Viti applied for the adult’s division, and began tearing her way through the ranks of the competition. 

Viti was having the time of their life, confidence flaring and heart pounding with all the buzz and excitement. She felt as though she could win this, make a name for themself in this strange, new universe. That was, until she noticed a familiar mess of black hair from across the way. 

Suddenly all of her confidence drained, fluster taking its place. They realized what universe they were in now. They would recognize the man approaching them anywhere. Ever since they were little, Viti had held great admiration for Goku. She'd grown up watching DBZ, and used it as a guide to train herself in the use of ki energy, as well as inspiration for learning martial arts. Before the whole media-universe-hopping-shenanigans, she would have never imagined she'd get to meet him. Even now, she hadn't thought she'd be a blip on his radar. Still, the saiyan with the sunshine-bright smile came over and introduced himself. Apparently, he'd been watching her fight.

Meeting him killed Viti's hope of winning. Yet the thought of potentially going up against Goku thrilled her. The reality that he was trying to befriend her excited her even more. 

The pair clicked immediately, their conversation easy and pleasant. It felt like they'd known each other forever. To Viti, It was a strange feeling. She was not one to trust easily. Yet she had no hesitation with Goku. And Goku certainly hadn't caught on to how flustered Viti was, only reflecting back the hyper energy she gave off. Soon, he invited her to join him and his friends as they waited for their next matches to start. 

And that's where everything went to shit. Canon events continued to occur basically the same from this point on, though Viti was there tagging along. She went with Goku and the others to confront Babidi. She was there when Vegeta became Majin and killed half a stadium full of people. And they were among the very few survivors of Buu's Earthling eradication. She distracted Buu by fighting him when Vegito was swallowed. And they helped project Hercule Satan's voice across the globe with her powers to help grow Goku's Spirit Bomb. 

When the dust settled and peace was accomplished at last, Viti decided she was going to stay in the DBZ universe permanently. They'd been hopping from media universe to media universe for years. Their hope of getting back home had diminished. This was as good of a place to settle as any. Besides, Viti liked the people here, and the possibility of participating in more world shattering battles. She also really liked Goku. They'd become good friends, and he even offered to train her, seeing the potential she had inside. Viti wasn't going to pass up that kind of once in a lifetime opportunity. So she accepted the saiyan's offer, and temporarily moved into Capsule Corp while she put her new life together.

That was the beginning of their soon to come relationship. As Viti and Goku trained together, they found similarities among each other. They both loved to go on adventures, interact with animals, and have a big tasty meal. Their humor was the same, and they joked around constantly whenever they hung out. Eventually they started spending time together outside of sparring. They had  a routine of grabbing lunch at various restaurants when they were done. Or Viti would whip up a meal for the two of them to share. Then that evolved into going to new places to explore. Soon, there were times the pair would spend time together and not even train at all. That was unusual for Goku. People started to notice the extra attention he gave to Viti. Mainly Vegeta and Chi-chi.

This friendly ritual between Viti and Goku went on for three years. Viti's feelings for Goku over that time started to grow from admiration to adoration. But she refused to acknowledge that she had romantic attraction towards him, especially because he had a family. 

That was until he invited her to spend a day with him in the Room of Spirit and Time. Everything changed between the pair once they entered the chamber. Over what–to them–felt like a year, their relationship blossomed from something friendly to something more domestic. They were closer in the room, with everything being just the two of them. They trained together constantly, slept in the same space, and cooked together. In their downtime they would talk of deep things, and watch movies on the laptop Viti snuck in. 

Things escalated when Goku witnessed Viti having nightmares. He took to soothing her after them, and discovering all the horrors she was reliving through them. Cuddling became a regular routine, and soon the pair couldn't sleep without holding each other. They sought comfort in one another, and began craving the affection. 

By the end, when they'd exited the Room of Spirit and Time, both had realized they were in love with each other. Yet neither confessed, returning to their usual routines. However, a few days after they had come out of the chamber, Goku told Viti they could no longer be around each other. Viti took it to mean he stopped liking them, now that he'd gotten to live with them and see who they truly were. Heartbroken, Viti tried to be understanding. She let him go and cut contact, even if it killed them to do so.

Viti put all of her focus on getting her life in better order after that. In a year's time; she sold the blueprints and patent to the teleportation device they'd used for universe hopping to Bulma, and struck rich from it. They bought themself a house, and started attending university to follow their childhood dream of being a zoologist. They tried to focus on spending time with other friends. They even got themself a pet chicken to provide more company. Their life was turning out spectacular. Yet, Viti couldn't fill the void that'd formed in their heart. 

Meanwhile, Goku was trying to fix his home life. The reason he was no longer allowing himself around Viti was because of his wife, Chi-chi. She was upset at him, calling him distant. She wanted them to become closer again, and the only way was for him to stop hanging out with his friend. Chi-chi called Viti a distraction, one that was getting between their marriage. She noted even Vegeta had recognized how much attention Goku gave the blonde god-human who'd come from another universe. 

Though Goku had realized he was in love with Viti (something he'd never felt towards anyone), he still cared for Chi-chi. Their relationship didn't have the traditional romance in it. Their marriage had been arranged. Yet over the decades Goku had developed a unique type of love for Chi-chi, the one who cared for his home and raised his children. He didn't want to mess it up. So, he complied with her demands and stopped seeing Viti. Yet he could never get his mind off of her.

Over the next year Goku and Chi-chi tried to work on repairing their marriage. Though the distance between them seemed to grow even larger. Eventually, it became big enough that Chi-chi no longer cared what Goku was doing, as long as he was working and providing for their household.

One day, while Goku was working one of his jobs, he noticed a familiar head of windswept blonde hair in the passing crowd of people on the street. Calling out, he grabbed Viti's attention, hope radiating from him like a beacon.

Viti, surprised, approached the saiyan beckoning to her, hardly recognizing him with the way his hair was gelled back. They struck up a conversation, catching up on all the things that had happened with the two of them over the past year. Viti told Goku about her new house and her status as a university student. Goku told her about how he'd become a farmer, as well as Mr. Satan's bodyguard part time. Viti commended him for putting in such hard work, and wished him luck in all of his endeavors. 

She was set to leave after that, her heart aching at the knowledge that he was doing so well without her in his life. Yet Goku nearly begged her to stay, offering to buy them both dinner when he was finished work for the day. Though Viti wanted to refuse, her heart pulled her towards him. So, she accepted the invite and met with him come evening.

The two of them came back together as if no time had passed. Their conversations were as easy as they had been the first time they met. Goku and Viti held great joy in finding their friendship again, even if both had feelings to hide from each other now. 

Things went back to the way they used to after that dinner. Goku and Viti started to spar again, go out to lunch, and hang out with each other. Everything was wonderful, and Viti hoped nothing would change between them again, even if in secret she wanted more. But nothing ever stays the same. 

During the following year, Goku and Chi-chi were having serious discussions with one another. Their marriage was worse than ever before, and the time they'd spent together with only the two of them had made things more hostile. Goku blamed it on the seven years he was in Otherworld. Chi-chi blamed their different life values. Both came to the conclusion that they were miserable together and wanted more out of living. It was a hard choice, but the pair ultimately decided it was time to go their separate ways. 

And this absolutely crushed Goku. Though he held no romantic love for Chi-chi, she was all he'd ever known. She was the mother of his sons. Trying to figure out a life without her was difficult and depressing. But his friends were there to help him out. And Viti was there to cheer him on. 

Goku didn't indulge in his feelings for Viti for a long while after his marriage ended. Though his heart pulled him towards her more and more. She was such a positive influence in his darkest time, and he truly was grateful for her presence. He didn't know where he'd be without her support.

One day, Goku could no longer ignore the yearning in his chest, the way he ached to spill all of his love onto Viti. He confessed to her after an intense spar, while the two took a breather to watch the setting sun.

Viti was completely blindsided by his proclamation of love. It was something she thought she could only hope for in her dreams. Yet she was hesitant. Surely there hadn't been enough time since his divorce for him to move on? Yet Goku assured he was ready. He had loved her for years, ever since that special time they'd shared together in the Room of Spirit and Time. Viti admitted she'd been hiding feelings for him since then as well, and even before. She'd always loved him, she thought. Even before she truly knew it. Goku and Viti came together in an embrace that solidified the true start of their relationship. And they've been together ever since.