#because people walked away or died (rude of them) without a final goodbye

[geneterrachan]

me, dead and lying in my grave: yeah but where’s my closure though

[warriorsfireandwater]

Warriors Analysis 2: A Breakdown of the Crow/Night/Breeze Family Dynamic

I said I would do it, so here we are. The big doozy. For this one, I’m going to putting all of the sourced scenes in a linked google doc, because I just don’t want to make this post a million miles long. Instead, for this post, I will sum up all of the conclusions made after reviewing every scene involving the family from Po3 through OotS, with other relevant information from other books included.

Context of this one: I’ve watched (and participated in) a lot of debate over this family. Just about every single argument I’ve seen tends to:

1) rely on a person’s opinion of a character overall to how they feel about the family (”I found Nightcloud annoying” often goes along with “Nightcloud is equally bad of a parent” or “Breezepelt was a bad person so I don’t sympathize with him in the family situation”)

2) misremember canon

3) rely on a person’s headcanons of what actually happened to shape their judgement of the family (”Nightcloud spoiled Breezepelt and told him Crowfeather is bad” when there are zero canon scenes of this happening)

Some ground rules: I’m relying on breaking down the canon scenes in the books. I am NOT inserting my own thoughts or beliefs as to what happened behind the scenes. If there’s anything bordering on that (”this behavior implies X”), it’ll be clearly stated that it’s an interpretation. I ask that if you want to comment or debate this analysis that you do the same. People’s headcanons shaping how they remember the family is the thing that frustrated me enough to spend hours digging this up. As a personal request, please don’t use this post to say “Nightcloud still sucks and I hate her”/”Breezepelt still sucks and I hate him”/”neglect isn’t abuse” - the latter is definitively incorrect and is upsetting to hear as a survivor of abuse. “X character still is bad” just takes away from the point of this - which is not to say “Breezepelt is a good person”, but PURELY to breakdown the family dynamic. With that out of the way, let’s GO:

After looking at literally every scene involving Breezepelt, Crowfeather, and Nightcloud and analyzing the ones that involve or mention them as a family, here’s some key points. The scenes that back these points up are included and detailed in this doc.

Breezepaw is introduced to us as a bit aggressive and rude, and his mentor, Whitetail, wishes to Crowfeather that she would teach him manners (earning her no response from him)

We first properly see Nightcloud during the dog attack in The Sight, when Breezepaw returns from checking the barrier. Breezepaw reports that there is no damage, and Crowfeather immediately questions if he actually checked all the way around. Breezepaw tells him “Of course!”, and Nightcloud says that Crowfeather should trust his son more.

This suggests Nightcloud is ready to defend Breezepaw whenever. However, as ThunderClan is leaving, Breezepaw mutters that WindClan can manage on their own. Nightcloud immediately scolds him and compliments Lionpaw for saving Heatherpaw during the battle.

Later, at the daylight Gathering, Lionpaw and Breezepaw are buried underground. Crowfeather and Nightcloud help dig them out, and Breezepaw is not breathing when he comes out. Jaypaw has to pull dirt out of his throat to save his life.

Leafpool says to Crowfeather that she would “give [her] last drop of blood to save [his kit]”. Nightcloud sharply retorts that “our kit was lucky that Jaypaw was here”.

Nightcloud carries Breezepaw away from the scene “like a kit”. Crowfeather offers to help, but she carries him on her own. She does not push him away/force him away/shout at him, she literally just chooses to carry him. Nightcloud spends the rest of the daylight Gathering curled around Lionpaw and Breezepaw and keeping them resting.

We learn these things from the Sight: Breezepaw and Crowfeather seem to have a tense relationship, but that isn’t fully developed. Nightcloud is willing to defend him from Crowfeather’s doubts, but notably does not defend him when he acts like a punk in front of her. She is bothered by Leafpool’s comment about giving her life for Breezepaw (which I personally find pretty reasonable to be bothered by), but counters by giving her gratitude to Jaypaw. She wants to carry Breezepaw after he nearly dies, but isn’t pushing Crowfeather away or denying him anything like many people claim.

In Dark River, Crowfeather encourages Breezepaw’s bias against ThunderClan, telling him that they “celebrate mixed blood” in a tone that implies it as a negative thing. (It seems implied he does this to get to Leafpool, who is upset by his comment.)

Jaypaw is able to feel Nightcloud’s jealous emotions on a few occasions, but she actually never says anything to Leafpool or Crowfeather about it.

In Outcast, Crowfeather is called to go on the journey to the Tribe. Onestar tells him to take Breezepaw, who has gotten in trouble a few times. Breezepaw makes it very plain he doesn’t want to go and worries that his Clanmates are just trying to get rid of him. Crowfeather wants to go, but “sighs” over the idea of taking Breezepaw. To me, he comes off as disinterested and possibly disappointed that he has to bring him. Crowfeather snaps at Breezepaw for asking to say goodbye to his friends, saying “There isn’t time!” even though literally no one is rushing them to leave. Nightcloud comes to say goodbye, but Crowfeather is distant and doesn’t respond to her.

Throughout Outcast, each POV character has at least one (if not many) moments where they think about Crowfeather/Breezepaw and feel pity for Breezepaw, despite really hating him. Hollypaw especially thinks often about how she appreciates Brambleclaw for encouraging and supporting her, and the apprentices all seem to realize that Breezepaw is angry because his father “doesnt seem to like him”. 

When questioning why they have to help the tribe, Crowfeather just tells Breezepaw “You’ll never understand loyalty.”

When they run into Purdy, Breezepaw is pretty rude to him. Crowfeather doesn’t interrupt a single time throughout multiple insults, then reacts by hitting him across the ear without saying anything, which is noted as “a hard blow”.

Breezepaw nearly dies falling off into a ravine after thinking he’s discovered a faster way. Crowfeather pulls him back and snaps at him, expressing no concern for his life. In Eclipse, Crowfeather pointedly does not compliment Breezepaw’s catch of the rabbit, which angers Breezepaw.

During the reveal of Leaf/Crow in the last book, Breezepelt and Nightcloud stand by Crow’s side and don’t publicly turn on him or say anything against him.

This journey gives us a lot of insight into Crow and Breeze’s dynamic. Breezepaw is pretty obviously a little punk throughout this book, but Crowfeather has no healthy way of communicating with him or discipling him. Instead, he snaps at him, hits him, or ignores him, all of which just feeds into Breezepaw’s anger. Nightcloud is not present for any of this and has no way of controlling their interactions here, which could have been a perfect opportunity for Crowfeather to build a relationship with his son if it were true that Night had prevented this.

Breezepelt shows up in Fading Echoes, training in the Dark forest. A few things are made explicit: he is being manipulated by the Dark Forest and Tigerstar’s words have an almost hypnotic effect on him. The cats present egg him on against Crowfeather, feeding into his belief that Crow does not value him. (Side note, I find it really interesting that in this book, Breezepelt has notable value in the warrior code [which encourages his hate towards Crow] and the DF cats encourage this, saying it is “strong” in his blood. Next time we see him, though, he wants to destroy it.)

Flametail randomly thinks about Breezepelt’s family while spending time with Tawnypelt, feeling glad he has nicer kin.

We get the infamous scene where Lion and Breeze fight. Breeze and Crow were both trespassing on ThunderClan territory and Lion caught the prey Breezepelt was about to catch. He intentionally eggs Breezepelt into a fight (rather than just attacking him himself). Leafpool interrupts, asking how Crow can watch this. Nightcloud then shows up and insists Crowfeather has only one son. Leafpool jumps in between them as Breezepelt is leaping for Lionblaze, and she gets clawed. Crowfeather hauls him off and throws him aside, then keeps talking to Leafpool, who tells him she loved him.

Nightcloud then comes over and pulls Crowfeather away from Leafpool. She sinks her claws into his pelt to do this. However, it’s worth noting that this scene contains MANY references to blood every time claws come out - she does not draw blood and he does not express any signal of pain. It’s likely she used her claws only as a means of holding onto him, not to cause him harm. Crowfeather turns on him, and Breezepelt wails before getting between them, telling Crowfeather to leave his mother alone.

Nightcloud doesn’t react rationally in this scene - but neither does any character. Lionblaze is an ass, Breezepelt is an ass, Crowfeather is an ass, and Leafpool is still walking around making declarations of her former love in front of Crowfeather’s wife.

Nightcloud is one of the cats to react rudely to Hollyleaf’s return, but she doesn’t directly attack/challenge her. (This is actually the last time we see Nightcloud.)

The final meaningful scene is in The Last Hope, when Breezepelt fights Lionblaze. Crowfeather intervenes and says he will not allow Breezepelt to hurt him. Breezepelt retorts he always knew Crowfeather hated him, which Crow denies.

“I never hated you!” Crowfeather growled. “That’s just what you were determined to believe. And Nightcloud encouraged you.”

“It’s not her fault!” Breezepelt spat.

“No,” Crowfeather hissed. “I should have done something much earlier...”

This is the first and only time this is blamed on Nightcloud. This is the only indication we have that this could be true.

Some other notable things:

Crowfeather took Nightcloud as a mate to prove his loyalty, not out of love. (This is said in After Sunset: We need to talk)

The Ultimate Guide also confirms the above, but is a questionable source given the many errors included in it. It states that Crowfeather resents Nightcloud (for not being Leafpool), and that Nightcloud coddled Breezepelt. However, the latter is never shown in the story (and the opposite is actually shown when she scolds him).

In Crowfeather’s Trial, Crowfeather is pushed to recognize his anger towards his son and apologize for his behavior towards him and Nightcloud. Even in an entire book from Crow’s perspective (which provides opportunity for memories, flashbacks, etc), there is no indication that Nightcloud actually pushed Breezepelt to hate Crowfeather. There’s a throwaway mention that Crowfeather was too strict or too rough with Breezepelt as a kit, but it’s never actually said that Nightcloud told him this/kept him away/etc. (IE: it’s impossible to say if Nightcloud screamed this at him or asked him once to be gentle. We just don’t know!)

With all this said, here’s my take on the dynamic:

Crowfeather was a neglectful father and an inconsiderate mate. The only scene we get where he seems to actually get along with Breezepaw is when he is encouraging him to dislike ThunderClan by feeding into hatred for “mixed blood” cats. In all other scenes, he: 1) ignores his bad behavior, 2) is unnecessarily harsh to him or dismissive of him, 3) questions and undermines him, 4) does not have healthy ways of addressing his poor behavior (IE, he ignores and turns away from him rather than discussing it when all the apprentices are in trouble and the other warriors are scolding them, he flat-out hits Breezepaw at one point after saying nothing to intervene in his rudeness), and 5) blames Nightcloud for their bad relationship. Crowfeather is provided plenty of opportunities to interact with Breezepaw while Nightcloud isn’t present (in fact, Nightcloud shows up very little - most scenes of the family have just Breeze and Crow, there are many books where Nightcloud isn’t even mentioned).

Nightcloud was literally just being a normal mom and was often pushed to feeling jealous around Leafpool, often because Leafpool doesn’t have any boundaries around hinting about loving Crowfeather for some reason. I was actually really shocked by how... absolutely fuckin brazen Leafpool is 24/7 about waltzing up to Crowfeather while his wife is standing right there and going “just so you know......... i miss you........... i’d give my life for you......” It’s just WEIRD. IMO, it’s pretty damn reasonable for that to make Nightcloud irritated! Most of the time, she never actually voices her jealousy, we just know about it because of Jaypaw’s ability. When she does, it’s sometimes done by complimenting someone else or giving credit to another cat, like when Jaypaw saves Breezepaw. There is zero text in the story supporting the idea that Nightcloud was overbearing or that she spoiled him: we have TWO SCENES where she has character moments around this. In the first, she is defending him from Crowfeather’s doubt, and in the second, she is scolding him for being ungrateful to ThunderClan for their help.

Breezepelt was a kid that grew up feeling unloved, unappreciated, and angry and resentful as a result. The Dark Forest, not Nightcloud, fed into this belief, but we also have a whole lot of scenes that show why that feeling of resentment towards Crowfeather is there to begin with.

The final hot take: If you believe Nightcloud ‘spoiled’ Breezepelt or that she was ‘overbearing and possessive’, you need to reread Po3 and OotS. It’s just not there.

(Bonus: I love Leafpool but god, girl, you need to read a room.)

[nebulousfishgills]

In Reality

Request by @nosfera1 : hiiiii is your request open? i was wondering if i could ask for an angsty wanda x fem!r fic where they've been in a relationship for a year and r is absolutely head over heels with her. r planned their anniversary date and during that dinner wanda confesses that she's only been dating r to move on from her previous relationship the whole time and cant carry it in her conscience anymore? make it reaaally really heart wrenching as possible please. thank youuuuu

Ah, thank you so much for sending in your request!! (Yes, requests are open lol). I'm always excited to recieve a new request, especially for a character I have yet to write for!

I hope I get this the way you want! ❤

Warnings: Angst, feels, fluff (but like, fake?)

ฯฯฯ

"Wan, are you okay?" You asked, noticing your girlfriend looking a bit uncomfortable. Her hands were in her lap, her eyes staring at the table or the wall, and she seemed like she was zoning in and out. "Wanda?"

"What? Oh, yes, dear?" She asked, jerking up from looking at the muted paisley tablecloth.

"I was wondering if you were okay." You repeated.

"Yes, I'm alright, dear. Just a little tired is all." She said, showing her teeth in a smile that almost seemed forced. You chose to ignore it.

"I was going to say, but I didn't want to be rude." You said, chuckling.

"We've been together for a year, we can tell each other anything."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

The waiter brought your dishes not long after that, the thin veil of steam curling off the top of the Italian dishes you ordered. Your glasses were refilled and parmesan was grated on top of your meals.

You started nearly scarfing down your food, the wait having been a little too long without a breadstick refill. You watched Wanda gently cut through the meatballs on the top of her pasta, dividing them into quarters. The delicate movement entranced you for a moment, a bashful smile creeping onto your face.

To say you loved Wanda would be a severe understatement. The past year you had been together was the best year of your life. Before, you had been in a slump, everything seeming sad and dreary. You had been having a particularly bad day that day, as a matter of fact. You missed the bus in the morning, so you had to walk to work. Halfway through, it started raining buckets and you had no umbrella. You were lucky your boss was so understanding, else she would have reprimanded you for sure for being late. Still, the woman signed your paychecks; staying on her good side was in your best interest.

While pondering your latest excuse for being late to work again, it suddenly stopped raining.

No, someone was holding an umbrella over you.

That someone happened to be Wanda, offering her umbrella to you to shelter from the storm. You took one look at her and it was as if the color started to soak back into your previously grey world. Not only was this woman going out of her way to help you, she was beautiful as well.

Wanda held the umbrella over your head while you both walked to where you worked (she didn't mind in the slightest; she didn't have a set destination when she started walking). You told each other a few things about yourselves to pass the time. You were working at your current job until you could afford to move to a better part of the city. The apartment you lived in currently had a lot of small problems that would pop up every now and then that would take your savings. Your dishwasher had just broken and you needed to save up to get that replaced.

Wanda told you about things in her life, too. Her brother had died a few years ago in what she called a "tragic accident." Her last relationship had ended pretty suddenly more recently, so she took frequent walks to give herself something to do.

Suddenly your dishwashers woes seemed so nominal.

You arrived at the building you worked at and Wanda bid you goodbye. Though, not before passing you a small slip of paper with a few digits on it you recognized as a phone number. You went pink and walked into your office, sending a text to Wanda as soon as you sat down. You saw each other more frequently after that, going on your first date not long after.

And here Wanda was, sitting in front of you with her steaming pasta and quarter sliced meatballs. You ate your dinners in silence to start, the only noises between you two being the scratches of utensils on plates and quiet chewing.

After a few minutes, you noticed Wanda poking at her pasta with her fork. She hadn't eaten very much. Her chin rested on her other hand, the food on her plate starting to cool down.

"Wan, are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I'm fine..." Wanda replied, letting out an exhale as if she were holding her breath. She put the fork down and rested her hand on the table.

"Wanda, it's okay. If something's bothering you, you can tell me." You said, resting your hand on top of hers. She took it, rolling your fingers in hers. She pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap, her other hand following suit. She took a breath.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" She asked.

"Anything, Wan." You said. Wanda took in another breath and looked you in the eyes. That's how you knew she was getting dead serious with you.

"This isn't easy but... I can't keep holding it in. I can't do this anymore." She said.

"Can't do what?"

"This." She wagged her finger in between the two of you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"What do you mean? You can't do--?" You asked, your voice cracking slightly.

"No, I can't." Wanda cut in. "Listen, Y/N, I'm telling you this now so I don't hurt you worse later on. I can't keep stringing you along."

"'Stringing me along?' Wanda, I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

"I... I... No. It's just..." Wanda bit her lip and averted her gaze from you.

"Just what? Something I did? What did I do, Wanda?"

"Nothing! You did nothing! It's not you, Y/N, it's just..."

"Wanda, are you joking? One year, Wanda! This is our one year anniversary and you're telling me this now??" You asked, the tears streaming down your face through your anger.

"I know, it's not ideal, but I couldn't find time to tell you before!"

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't? You're telling me you lied to me for a year, Wanda. Why?"

"Because I needed a distraction, okay? My last relationship ended badly and I was having a hard time getting over it. I thought you would... provide support until I could get back on my feet." Wanda admitted. Your face got hotter as the realization sunk in. Your voice got low as you continued speaking.

"You used me? You dated me to get over someone else? Is that all I was to you? Just a distraction? A plaything?" You growled.

"Y/N, you don't understand--"

"Oh, no, I understand plenty, Wanda." You stood up from your seat, throwing on your jacket and grabbing your handbag. You looked at the half empty water glass at your seat and picked it up. You examined the water inside for a moment, looking at Wanda over the rim. "I'd throw the water in your face right about now, but unlike you, I have standards on how people should be treated. Like a person with feelings and not something you use to play pretend with."

You downed the rest of the water and put the glass back on the table.

"Y/N--" Wanda said weakly, but you cut her off with a pinch of your fingers.

"Not another word, Wanda." You snapped, before turning around to walk away. "Don't even try to call me."

You burst out of the restaurant and sat down on one of the stone benches out front. You sent a quick text to your friend asking for a ride home, sending the address. Wanda had driven you here.

"What happened to your date?" Your friend asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright. I'm on my way."

You shut off your phone and stared up at the sky. Not a moment later, thunder rumbled above you and it started to rain.

You had no umbrella to cover you.

Finally, you allowed yourself to cry, your tears mixing with the rainwater that dripped onto your face. You let everything out, all the anger and sorrow until your throat went raw.

The headlights of your friend's car pierced through the wall of rain. You stood up and ran over, climbing inside of the heated car. You let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"You okay?" Your friend asked. You didn't reply, just turned to look out the window, the raindrops gliding down it. As the car started pulling away, someone ran outside of the restaurant, screaming your name.

Wanda.

You looked at her as your friend pulled out of the parking lot. Wanda caught sight of you inside the car, watching you leave. You just stared back at her coldly as your friend whisked you away back home.

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you blocked Wanda's number and collapsed onto your sofa. Tears leaked down your face as you fell asleep.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, nosfera!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!

[witchywrter]

“Home” (Part 5/?)

Paul Lahote x reader

Part 4

Summary: y/n returns from college in California to her hometown in Forks to find things are not as she left them. She soon discovers that a lot more things have changed then she initially thought.

Warnings: mentions of death, car accident, verbal fighting, cussing, i think that covers it

A/N: i am literally so sorry for not updating sooner guys lmao i’m trying to update all my fics now, especially this one bc i love it. i’ll get the next one out next week. love you all!_______________________________________________

You felt so much pain as you began to regain consciousness and could make out someone calling your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned your head to the source of the sound to see a Doctor at your side, his hand on your arm. He was very handsome. Not exactly your type, but still. He looked to be around your age, far too young to be a Doctor already.

“Hello Y/n, my name is Dr.Cullen. You’ve been in an accident”

Your head was throbbing and you felt pain radiating from your stomach and leg. You looked around to find that you were indeed in the hospital.

You looked down at his hand on your arm. It was ice cold, absolutely freezing. He must have noticed you looking because he removed his hand.

“How long have I been here?” you asked, looking back to the Doctor.

“About a day and a half. Do you remember anything?” he asked kindly.

“There was a man in the road, he came out of nowhere. I swerved to try to avoid him” you said trying to remember.

“Your car flipped four times and caught fire. A piece of glass punctured your abdomen and another your left thigh, narrowly missing your femoral artery. We were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize your condition. You’re lucky to be alive, if your friend hadn’t been there to pull you out when he did, you could have died” he finished, shaking his head.

“My friend?” you asked.

“He’s from the reservation, one of Jacob Black’s friends I believe” he said.

Well that didn’t exactly narrow it done much. Your car was totaled most likely. You’re dad’s car, the one thing you had left of him.

“You’ll be okay, but you need your rest. You can be discharged tomorrow morning and the stitches will dissolve on their own in two weeks” he said has he picked up your chart and began walking away.

“Oh, one more thing. Sherif Swan called me, if you still want that internship, send over your resume and you can start after your two weeks” he said with a slight smile on his lips.

“Thank you Dr.Cullen” you called out as he left to check on other patients.

You looked over to your side to see an array of gifts on the beside table and chair. There seemed to be something from everyone. Flowers with cards from Leah, Sam, Emily and even Charlie and his daughter Bella and a big card from Quill, Embry, Collin, and Brady with all their own little messages and signatures.

The huge, brown bear sat on the chair with a red ribbon around its neck didn’t seem to have a card accompanying it.

You grabbed your phone from the side table and unlocked it. There were a few messages from friends and one from your mom. You opened up your mom’s message and read:

“Why did I have to find out from the Sherif that my daughters been in a car accident. You know what it was like for me when your father passed and the fact that you’d put me through that again is appalling”

This was followed by multiple messages about how horrible of a daughter you were and how you have no excuse for ignoring her text messages.

She had no right to bring up your dad like that. As if you got into an accident to hurt her, as if you were unconscious and not responding on purpose.

Your dad was driving home one night after a long night at the hospital when he was hit by a drunk driver. He was pronounced dead at the scene. You never got to say goodbye. Never got to tell him you loved him one last time.

You turned your phone off and set it on the side table and laid back down. Although you were out for a day and a half, you felt utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. You pulled your blankets back up and closed your eyes, hoping for a full nights rest.

You woke up to the curtains flying back, sunlight flooding the room. Your eyes stung as you were blinded.

“Wake up loser, it’s time for a jail break” Leah said in a very cheerful voice.

“No Leah, I’m not dead and feel amazing” you say in a sarcastic voice.

“That’s exactly what i wanted to hear. Seriously though, are you okay? You scared the shit out of everyone” she said, her voice taking on a concerned tone.

“Yeah, just beat up. Should be at healed up in two weeks” you say, sitting up.

“Here, I brought these from Emily’s house” she said, tossing a long sleeve, pants, socks, undergarments and shoes onto the bed.

After you changed and signed the discharge papers, you and Leah headed back to Emily’s place.

“What a bitch,” Leah said with disgust as she climbed the steps.

“I know, I still can’t believe I’m related to her” you say shaking your head.

Leah opened the front door and you hear “Surprise!” as you walk through. Everyone but Collin, Brady, Quill and Paul were there for your second homecoming.

Jake ran up to hug you, but Leah stepped in front of him.

“You wanna rip her stitches dumbass?” she said like a mother correcting her child.

“Oh shut it Leah” Jacob said, but gave you a much gentler hug than he originally intended.

“How are you?” Jake asked.

“Well I think I might fall over and die if one more person asks how I am” you say laughing. You stop as a stabbing pain shoots from your abdomen.

Sam, Emily and Seth hug you as well before you finally make it to the couch to sit down.

“What happened?” Embry asked taking a seat next to you with Leah on the other side.

“I was driving back here and I looked down at my phone for barely a second and when I looked back up there was a man in the road” you said.

“Well you know what they say about texting and driving” Seth said but the joke fell flat as no one laughed.

“What did the man look like?” Jake asked in a serious tone.

“Pale I guess, black hair, I’m not really sure. Why?” you asked, confused.

“No reason, just wondering” he said looking over to Sam who was sitting on a stool by the counter talking to Emily.

“Do you know who pulled me out?” you asked Jacob.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Dr.Cullen said one of our friends pulled me out of the car before it caught fire”

“Oh, uh, Paul did” he said.

Paul. Of all of your friends you had thought it might have been, that was the absolute last person you’d think would save you. If anything he’d probably be the one to toss you right into the flames.

“Oh” was all you said.

The front door opened and in walked Quill and Paul.

“Well I’ve gotta get back to..work” Jacob said standing up.

“Me too” said Seth as he followed Jacob to the door.

“Heal up Y/n!” Jacob yelled over his should and he and Seth left.

Quill came over and sat where Seth had just been and gave you a hug and Paul went straight to Sam without even acknowledging you.

Not like it mattered anyway.

“How are y-“ Quill started.

“Fine” you cut him off.

Through the rest of the day, people started to leave one by one as they had work, school or other things to get to. Eventually Paul said his goodbyes to Sam and Emily and began walking out the door, again without saying a word to you.

You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself and momentarily excused yourself from your board game that you were beating Embry in. You walked out the door just as Paul was off the steps.

“Hey!” you called to him.

Paul stopped and slowly turned back to you.

“What?” he asked rudely, not fully meeting your gaze.

Instead of responding with the same attitude, you walked down some of the steps.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Jacob told me what you did” you said gently.

“It wasn’t exactly like there was a choice in the matter” he spat.

“Could you just not be a complete asshole for once in your life? I’m trying to thank you for saving my life” you said, anger getting the best of you.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” he said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising your voice.

“Nothing. I-I can’t do this right now, I won’t do this right now” he said, voice equal to yours now.

“No, come on Paul, let it out. Say what you need to say!”

Paul started shaking with anger and as much as you knew you should stop, your anger wouldn’t let you.

“Say. It.” you seethed.

“Paul!” you heard as the front door swung open.

You turned around to see Quill come running down and barreling into Paul, pushing him away from you. Sam came running out too.

“Get him out of here!” Sam yelled.

Quill grabbed Paul and pulled him out into the woods.

“What the hell?” you asked

“Get inside Y/n!” Sam yelled.

“You don’t tell me what to do” you said angrily

“Get. Inside. Now.” he said sternly.

You scoffed but turned on your heal and went inside and upstairs, waking right passed Emily and ignoring her as she called out to you.

Who did they think they were, telling you to get inside. Paul always had anger problems, this wasn’t anything new.

You hate him.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” replayed again and again in your head. You hated him for making you feel less than, for making you feel worthless.

Him saving you meant nothing. He was a dick to you your entire life and you didn’t care that Sam asked you to lighten up on him. No one bit.

As you laid down to sleep, not even bothering to take off your clothes or change, you wiped the single tear that escaped. You hated him and always would.

//////////////

You were walking through the woods to get to your favorite spot again. It was the middle of the night, but Jacob asked to meet you there. The moonlight shown through the thick trees, illuminating your path.

Everything was so green and beautiful, you missed being home.

You walked a little farther when your foot hit something, stopping you in your tracks. You looked down to see a rock jutting up from the ground. It was the same one you fell on the other day. It still had blood on it, fresh and bright and not at all dried. That wasn’t right. You fell days ago, it should be dried or the rain should have washed it off.

*Snap*

You spun around. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, that same feeling of being watched returning. You shouldn’t be out here. Emily warned you.

You scanned your surroundings, but it was too dark. What happened to the moonlight? You squinted your eyes and saw him-it.

The man from the road, eyes blood red, skin pale as snow, hair dark as the night around him. He cocked his head to the side, watching you.

Where did he come from? Had he been watching you the whole time? Was he in the woods that first day?

You could try to outrun him, you didn’t know how far into the woods you were, you didn’t even remember how you got here. You went to take a step back but he was in front of you instantly and attacked, grabbing your arm.

You jolted upright, breathing heavily. You looked around. You were in your room, at Sam and Emily’s. You were safe. You ran your fingers through your hair as you looked out the window. It was the middle of the night.

There were things that weren’t adding up. Everyone has been acting weird, telling you to avoid the woods, saying that whatever has been attacking people isn’t animal or human, the man in the road, even Paul’s behavior has been worse than normal…something wasn’t right, you could feel it in your gut.

You knew what they told you, the warnings, but with everything that happened with Paul and your mom, you didn’t care anymore. You were gonna find out what was going on, no matter what.

_______________________________________________

A/N: hey guys! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! lots of stuff happened and i swear we’re gonna get more paulxreader interactions from now on. love you all❤️❤️

@that-animebitch @fangirlanotherjust @justdidabadthing @scuzmunkie @ccosmic-illusion

@xthefuckerysquaredx @destroyed-and-damned @classyunknownlover @hglyu @blackloveangel13

@champagnesugamama @bshelley322

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N:  FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write. 

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. 

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn. 

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger. 

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago. 

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her. 

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again. 

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there. 

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light. 

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved. 

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive. 

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff. 

Your wife. 

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end. 

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her. 

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been. 

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world. 

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.” 

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her. 

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses. 

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire. 

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed. 

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you. 

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you. 

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was. 

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly. 

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.” 

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them. 

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally. 

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year. 

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all. 

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright. 

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye. 

the Shield. 

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral. 

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time. 

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was. 

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran. 

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company. 

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men. 

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm. 

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you. 

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down. 

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed. 

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours. 

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.” 

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass. 

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves. 

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded. 

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened. 

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked. 

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand. 

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished. 

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them. 

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.” 

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now. 

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!” 

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while. 

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass. 

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke. 

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell. 

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave. 

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam. 

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you. 

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids. 

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly. 

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand. 

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight. 

“Yeah?” Sam replies. 

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying. 

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway. 

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow. 

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it. 

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule. 

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda. 

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still. 

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking. 

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.” 

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit. 

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss. 

---

---

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck. 

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’ 

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.” 

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.” 

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.” 

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-” 

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.” 

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped. 

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED  - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1) 

- ON MY WAY_CSGR

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Seven times someone spoke to a Marauder alone in a portrait and one person who spoke to them all together

In a world where all the Marauders died in the first war, their souls are preserved in portraits in Hogwarts. Their stories are legend if a bit tweaked, and their names are famous if a bit forgettable. But they were painted individually, and housed all over the castle, separated for all eternity from each other.

(Also, there are seven Marauders because Lily, Severus, and Regulus. Fight me.)

(FOR CONTEXT: Regulus married a Muggle named Amir and had a daughter with him named Hailee. Regulus and Sirius never fell out and Regulus calls Remus “Mum” because reasons. Sirius and Remus married and died without children and James and Lily had Harry with their partner, Severus. Peter had a nonbinary partner named Max, but they died in the war.)

ONE: Regulus Black (Room of Requirement) & Draco Malfoy [Second Year - Youth (Daughter)]

Draco is coming back from Quidditch practice after calling Hermione a Mudblood. He’s walking alone down a hallway empty of doors when one suddenly materializes in front of him. He walks inside, too curious not to, and finds a room with two chairs in front of a crackling fire.

Over the fire hangs a portrait of a young man with pale skin, ebony hair, and striking grey eyes. Draco sits down in one of the chairs and picks up the cup of hot cocoa from the coffee table, looking up at the portrait, which has now started moving.

“Who are you?” He asks, and the portrait shoots him a grim look.

“My name is Regulus Black. Do you know who I am?”

Draco shakes his head. Regulus hums, tugging at something around his wrist.

“I’m a Death Eater who defied Voldemort,” he says, pulling his sleeves up to reveal a blank wrist. “They didn’t paint me with that wretched Mark, thank Merlin.”

Draco puts his cocoa down, nervous, and finds his eyes darting around the room for a door.

“How do I get out of here?” He asks with all the politeness he can muster, and Regulus offers him a wry smile.

“Right through that door,” he says gently, pointing to the door now etching itself out of the wall. “But please remember, Draco - you make your own choices in life. You decide who you are. Not a House, not a name, not a Mark. You. Do not forget that like I did.”

Draco nods, backing towards the door.

“But you defected,” he says, feeling small. Regulus smiles sadly, his eyes cutting.

“Yes, I did. And I paid for it with my life. And the life of my partner, and my daughter, and my brother and my mum and my best friends. I paid, Draco. I’m still paying.”

Draco has his hand on the door knob. “Huh,” he says, and opens the door when Regulus adds, “Oh, and Draco, dear? Don’t call people Mudbloods. There’s no such thing. And it’s rude.”

Draco nods frantically and closes the door so hard he lands flat on his ass in the hallway, watching the door seal itself and fade back into stone.

TWO: James Potter (Gryffindor Quidditch “Hall” of Fame, Gryffindor Common Room) & Seamus Finnigan [Fourth Year - Never Not (Lauv)]

Seamus finds himself alone in the Gryffindor common room one Wednesday morning, pretending to be sick with a cold. He’s wrapped in a blanket and staring into the empty fireplace when he hears, “YO! KID!”

Startled, he falls off the couch, and stumbles up and over to the Quidditch trophy case in the corner. There, in a small frame, is the smiling face of a boy who looks just like Harry, except without the mark, with dark eyes, and happier. Seamus reads the plaque, James Potter, and smiles sadly, wondering if Harry has ever talked to this portrait before.

James, meanwhile, barrels forward, “You’re the one in love with that lanky black kid, right?” Seamus’ eyes snap up as he sputters, but James just grins. “Cool. I thought so. Can I give you some advice…?”

“Seamus.”

“Can I give you some advice, Seamus?”

Seamus, now bright red, says, “Um, sure?”

James’ eyes twinkle and he says, “Tell him.”

Seamus starts coughing, beating his chest as James laughs and he protests, “No! No, I can’t just tell my best friend I’m in love with him!”

James shrugs. “You can,” he says. “You wanna know a secret?” He leans in just a bit. “My best friends fell in love.”

Seamus startles. “What?” He breathes, and James grins.

“Yeah. Sirius Potter and Remus Lupin. Wasted six bloody years apart before finally giving in and admitting it. They’re the most in love people I’ve ever met.” His brow wrinkles. “Well, except Sev and Lily and me.” It wrinkles further. “Nah, I gotta give ‘em this one.”

Seamus gapes in shock for a moment before blurting, “That werewolf and the Black runaway were in love?! And you - fuck, you were with Severus Snape???” James stares at him for a moment before blinking and then bursting into laughter.

When he finally calms down, he looks back up at Seamus’ flushed face and says, “Sirius is a Potter and a Lupin, not a Black. And he and Remy loved each other more than anything. And yeah, Sev and Lily and I had some real fun times.” He tilts his head in consideration and says, “Actually, now that I think about it, some of those happened right on that couch over there. It’s weird they haven’t gotten a new one, huh?”

Seamus sputters for a third and final time and skitters away with a tomato-red face as James shouts after him, “TELL HIM, KID! SHOVE HIM AGAINST A WALL AND SNOG HIM SENSELESS!”

(Seamus, later, to Harry: “Your dad is fucking wack, bro.”)

THREE: Lily Evans (Library, Restricted Section) & Cedric Diggory [Fourth Year - Someone To You (BANNERS), Good Old Days (Kesha, Macklemore)]

Cedric sneaks into the Restricted Section to hide from all the pressure of the tournament. One night he’s thumbing through the books in his boredom when he finds an unframed portrait of a smiling redhead. As soon as he lifts her out of the book, titled The Marauders: A Complete History of Unfiltered Pranks (by Minerva Mcgonogall for Minerva Mcgonogall, signed by Regulus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Lupin (Love you Minnie!), and Lily Evans), the portrait pipes up, “Hi! I’m Lily!”

Cedric nearly drops the book in shock, but manages to catch it at the last second, mustering up a smile for the grinning portrait and introducing himself. She beams and glances at the book in his hand, her smile turning mischievous. “That’s a good one. We did get up to a lot, didn’t we?”

Speechless, he nods, not really processing that she’s just admitted to being Lily Evans, and her eyes dull with sadness at the sight of one of the injuries on his collarbone from the most recent challenge.

“Where’d you get that?” She asks, and he explains the tournament. She hums, and finally murmurs, “I heard them say my son is in that. Is that true?”

Mouth dry, Cedric nods, and Lily looks up at him again with glassy eyes and rasps, “Can you tell him I love him? That I’m proud of him and so are his fathers? Can you tell him that for me?”

Cedric nods again, hearing a creak and turning his head towards the noise when Lily whispers, “Go. Go, Cedric, before you get caught. Be brave, honey.” Cedric shoves the portrait back into the book and the book back onto the shelf with a muttered goodbye before sprinting away, Lily’s words echoing in his ears like a dying child’s scream.

FOUR: Sirius Black (Mcgonogall’s Office) & Ginny Weasley [Fifth Year - Alone (Bazzi)]

Ginny is sitting in Mcgonogall’s office, waiting for her professor to come and scold her for punching Zabini (he touched Luna’s ass, what was she supposed to do? Ask him to kindly stick his nose up where the sun don’t shine? She’d still be here, and he’d still be snickering like the slimy motherfucker he is in that dungeon cell he calls his bedroom). She hears a cough from somewhere on Mcgonogall’s desk and straightens up, ducking her head to peek around when she hears, “Pssst. Over here.”

She looks over and sees a framed picture of Sirius Black, grinning as if he’d never died. She swallows down her tears and nods her head in a polite hello. Sirius’ smile saddens as he says, “I hear you’re dating my godson.”

Ginny blushes, but nods, and for a moment, Sirius looks like he’s about to cry. “Why are you here, Ginny?” He asks softly, and she shrugs.

“Punched a Slytherin who touched my friend’s ass.”

Sirius grins at that, nodding his head in respect. “Good girl. You ever think about why that is?”

Ginny’s brow furrows and she opens her mouth to ask what he means when she sees his eyes wandering to a sketch of a wolf howling at the moon on Mcgonogall’s far wall, with the note For you, Minnie. Moony didn’t want it. Love, Sirius.

“I fell in love with a boy once,” Sirius murmurs. “My best friend. Remus Lupin. And he loved me back.”

I know, Ginny wants to say. You two were married and gave baby Harry joint Christmas presents and danced in the kitchen when you thought no one else was still awake. I’ve heard the stories, I’ve seen the pictures. I know. But instead she stays quiet, listening as Sirius tells his story.

“But instead of admitting that, I dated Marlene McKinnon for three years. Sold my gay ass out to a lesbian whore because I was too afraid to tell him how I felt about him.” Ginny has a lot of questions about the “lesbian whore” part - “I mean, she was a friend of mine, but I never wanted to kiss her, or sleep with her, but I did anyway. And he looked so fucking sad all the time. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t wanna ruin my happiness. I didn’t know how to tell him that he was my happiness. By the time I figured it out, it was too late.”

Ginny swallows, finally speaking up, “Why are you telling me this?” Sirius finally tears his eyes away from the picture of the wolf and the moon and gives her a bitter smile.

“Because I’m dead and my husband and I spent a mere three years together in all of the ten we knew each other. What kind of bullshit is that?”

Ginny shrugs. “Some bullshit,” she answers, and laughs uncomfortably.

Sirius laughs too, then sighs. He looks deep into her eyes and says, “I love my godson. You make sure he knows that. But I also love my husband. And I spent too damn long running from that. So let me save you a bit of trouble, Ginny - the greatest love is often the scariest.”

Ginny purses her lips. “What are you saying?” She says slowly, and Sirius smiles sadly as Mcgonogall’s heels come clicking down the hall.

“I’m saying maybe you shouldn’t waste your time on Harry when both your and his hearts lie elsewhere.”

Ginny blushes, looking down at the homemade bracelet Luna made her three summers ago, and at the sound of the door opening, she looks back up at a frozen Sirius, whose eyes are caught on Mcgonogall, somehow still twinkling.

FIVE: Peter Pettigrew (Outside Gryffindor Dorms) & Ron Weasley [Fifth Year - lovely (Billie Eilish, Khalid)]

Ron is sulking on the stairs outside the Gryffindor common room after a particularly bad Quidditch loss. He wishes he were with Hermione and Harry, but they were already tangled together when he came upstairs and he didn’t want to intrude, even though they invited him to.

He knows they’re all best friends, he just feels so much like the third wheel sometimes. So he’s sulking when he hears a soft, “Hey.”

He looks up in surprise and sees a portrait of Peter Pettigrew, and he immediately steels his eyes, backing away. Seeing this, Peter shouts, “Wait, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know! I just - I didn’t actually betray them, you know? Okay, well, I did, but - but I fixed it! They forgave me! I promise I’m not evil, I’m not, Ron -”

“How do you know my name?” Ron blurts, and Peter jumps back in his frame, startled, then smiles softly.

“They say it,” he answers. “Harry, and that girl you’re always with. They say your name all the time.”

Ron blushes. “Oh,” he says, ducking his head with a smile. When he looks back up into Peter’s sad eyes, he says, “We lost today. Quidditch.”

Peter cocks his head. “To who?”

Ron shrugs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his fingers over his knees. “Slytherin. Never lost against Slytherin before.”

Peter shrugs. “James and Sirius did. All the time.”

Ron looks up. “Really?” Peter smiles softly.

“Yeah. Mostly because they wanted Severus and Regulus to feel good, but. Yeah, they lost to Slytherin all the damn time.”

Ron’s smile fades. “Severus? Like, Snape? The Death Eater?”

Peter winces, then shrugs. “The Order spy. But, yeah.”

Ron blinks in shock. “They were friends? Even after Lily?”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion, but he answers anyway, “Yes? They were dating. Them and Lily. Sent the whole school up in flames.”

Ron’s jaw drops open. “You can do that?”

Peter shrugs. “Yeah, ‘course you can. You can date Harry and that girl if you want. No one’s stopping you.”

Ron flushes, looking down in shame.

“They don’t want me,” he mumbles. “Not the way they want each other.”

Peter hums. “Severus said that too. So did James. They were both idiots.” Looking up at Ron’s glistening eyes and pouting lips, he smiles.

“Just because you’re not the smartest or the strongest or the funniest or the best at anything in particular doesn’t mean you’re not important, or that people don’t care about you.”

Ron nods, slowly. He stands and heads back inside without another word, pretending he doesn’t hear Peter sigh and say, “You’re welcome,” bitterly as he mumbles the password to the Fat Lady and slips back through the crack in the door.

SIX: Severus Snape (Headmaster’s Office) & Hermione Granger [Sixth Year - Ophelia (The Lumineers), O Children (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)]

Hermione is visiting Dumbledore’s office for her Prefect badge and an overview of the position while Ron and Harry are brooding in their room. The three of them have become far closer than normal lately, and she’s almost glad to be away for a moment, as they’ve always been more honest with each other when she isn’t around. She can’t decide if that bothers her or not.

She’s waiting for Dumbledore to get there when she hears, “Miss Granger, correct?” in a slow, molasses drawl.

She looks up at the portrait labelled Severus Snape and answers the boy in the Slytherin tie, “Yes. Hello, Mr. Snape.”

Severus grins slowly, a cat-like expression of amusement and carefully calculated arrogance. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He asks, and she nods. He clicks his tongue. “Should’ve been in Ravenclaw.”

She flushes and opens her mouth to retort when the Sorting Hat starts shouting about insecure fuckwads who don’t know their place and Severus starts screaming back about it not doing its fucking job right until finally Hermione screams, “STOP!”

The hat grumbles off to sleep again while she stares a shocked Severus down, her shaking hands curled in fists as she says, “Please don’t shout at it. It’s tired.”

Severus raises an eyebrow, but huffs and turns away. She sees his blank arm as he turns his back to her and feels her heart break open with pity.

“You’re Harry’s father, right?” She asks softly, and his head whips towards her in shock. She offers a sad smile and explains, “Lily and James. There are no records, of course, but…”

“You’re Mcgonogall’s favorite,” Severus finishes, smiling wryly. “Yes. I am one of Harry’s fathers.”

Hermione nods, looking down at her books, and swallows before looking back up again to say, “He really loves you.”

Severus rears back in shock, his eyes searching her for lies as she tears up. “He really does. You may not know it, and he doesn’t speak of it, but - but I can tell. He misses you.”

Severus’ eyes turn dull and glassy and he turns away, hiding his face with his long shaggy hair. Hermione swallows down her tears, smiling again. “Yes, well -”

“I love him too,” Severus interrupts, voice soft. “I miss him too. We all do. Tell… tell him that, would you?”

Hermione blinks, then nods.

“Of course,” she says, ducking her head as the staircase starts to rumble. “I’ll take good care of him, sir.”

Severus smiles that sad wry smile again and stills just as Dumbledore steps through the door, but Hermione hears his silence echo in her ears.

Thank you.

SEVEN: Remus Lupin (Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom) & Luna Lovegood [Seventh Year - Dynasty (MIIA), Towards The Sun (Rihanna)]

As the war comes closer and closer to Hogwarts, the students there grow more and more anxious. Luna herself takes refuge in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where only Harry and Ginny know to find her. But with Harry on the run with Ron and Hermione and Ginny trying to hold down the fort with Seamus and Dean, Luna often finds herself alone.

One day she decides to make her way up onto the balcony over the classroom that leads to the office, and she reaches for the knob on the office door when she hears, “Don’t go in there, Miss Lovegood.”

She looks over at the portrait who’s spoken, dubbed Remus Lupin, and smiles. He smiles kindly back and asks, “What are you even looking for?”

Luna shrugs. “Some way to help, I guess.”

Remus smiles wryly and nods, glancing down at the wedding ring adorning his finger. His smile softens for a moment before he says, “Sometimes, Miss Lovegood, the best way to win a war is by treating others with kindness.”

Luna tilts her head to the side. “Like, with hugs and smiles?” She asks, and Remus smiles, biting his lip and nodding. His eyes are glassy, but she pretends not to notice.

“Yes, my dear, with hugs and smiles. Support each other. Take no conversation for granted. Merlin knows the only thing that comforted me in the first war was the constant reminders that I still had my family. That they were fighting with me, and that I was fighting for them.”

Luna nods sagely and looks down at the bracelets littering her wrists, each one made for a different person in her life: Ginny, her girlfriend; Harry, her partner; Neville, her best friend; Draco and Ron and Hermione, her friends. She asks, “What comforted you when you died? I know… I know it wasn’t fast. Or painless.”

Remus smiles, his eyes shining with kindness and hope despite the exhausted bruises beneath them and the scars across his face.

“I wasn’t alone,” he answers, his voice soft. “I died by Sirius’ side. I was holding his hand when I saw the light. And in the light there were silhouettes - James, Peter, Lily, Severus, Regulus. They were waiting for us. And I knew we would be okay.”

Luna nods. She twists a ring on her finger and says, “Thank you, Mr. Lupin. I’d best be going now.”

Remus nods as she begins to descend the steps, his voice ringing out one last time, “Good luck, Luna. I hope to Merlin your victory will be more permanent than ours.”

Luna twirls around, cocking her head as she asks, “You think we’ll win?” Remus smiles.

He nods, his eyes twinkling, and says, “Someone has to. Why not you?”

ONE: All Together Again (Grimmauld Place, Harry & Ron & Hermione’s Bedroom)  & Harry Potter [After Graduation of Eighth Year - Daylight (Taylor Swift)]

Following the end of the war, Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, left to him by the godfather he never knew. He takes Hermione and Ron with him, the three of them having been in a committed relationship since sometime when they were on the run and following an unspoken agreement that they will follow each other anywhere.

Luna lives nearby with Ginny, in an apartment by Draco’s little cottage and Neville’s tiny hovel. The three of them live quietly, though their friends visit often. Harry feels better, happier, though the hole left by his missing family is still there.

One day, as he’s putting up pictures of him and his partners around their shared bedroom, he hears, “Harry?”

He looks up, and there, on the opposite wall, is a picture of the seven Marauders, all young and staring at him in shock. Harry tears up and rushes over, taking the picture delicately in his hands and smiling as he rakes his eyes over his lost family. They all grin back, and Harry reads the inscription on the frame: My dear Marauders, You have been my pride and joy for seven long short years. I know you will all do great things; I cannot wait to see what you accomplish. You are, and have always been, my favorite students. All my love, Minnie.

Harry covers his mouth, emotional, until finally James asks, “Are you happy?”

Harry looks at Remus and Sirius, their fingers intertwined and their eyes sparkling. He looks at Regulus and Peter, their arms around each other’s shoulders as they grin. He looks at Severus and Lily and James, his three wonderful parents. And he looks down at the two wedding rings on the chain around his own neck, bearing the initials R.W. and H.G.. And he nods.

“Yeah,” he answers, grinning. “Yeah, I’m really fucking happy.”

[phoenixblack89]

Fera Ingris

Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons

It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.

My wonderful tag list:

@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel

"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."

Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent. 

"Are ye listening lass?" 

"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now!  As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!" 

"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear. 

"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."

"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much" 

"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns." 

"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?" 

"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?" 

"Sorry lass I got to -" 

The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys. 

                                                      **********

The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends. 

Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things? 

She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since... 

No, she thought don't think about it. 

She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty. 

Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles. 

A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her. 

"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her... 

Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was? 

He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there. 

"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."

"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet. 

"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something. 

"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face. 

"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her." 

"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces. 

Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.

Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.

She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.

"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle. 

"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"

"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip. 

"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"

"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together. 

God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.

"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself." 

"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.

                                                    **********

Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.

"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."

The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.

"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."

"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."

"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.

                                                    **********

A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal. 

A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance. 

                                                    **********

They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.

"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy. 

He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now. 

Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago. 

He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place. 

He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.

                                                    **********

Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her. 

"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy. 

That damn hand. 

He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace. 

"Ya alright?" 

"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking. 

                                                    **********

The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left. 

She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled. 

Almost home.

Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.

                                                          **********

Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp. 

Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer. 

"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood. 

"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more. 

"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth. 

"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!" 

Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them. 

"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes. 

"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut. 

"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane. 

"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well. 

"He dead? "

"We're not sure..."

OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder. 

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark. 

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion. 

"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance. 

"Rick Grimes." 

"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?" 

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there." 

"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him. 

"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick. 

"Yeah." 

Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily. 

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair. 

"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground. 

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself. 

"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull. 

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed. 

"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side. 

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" 

Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question. 

"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies. 

Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly. 

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"

Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man. 

"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety. 

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog. 

"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly. 

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply. 

"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV. 

                                                   *********

Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.  

"Hey." 

"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces.  "Yea... Ya not comin' though."  

"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away. 

"Daryl!" 

"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.  

"Dixon..."  

"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed." 

"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"  

"Nah ya don't!" 

"Yes I fucking do!"  

"No. Ya stayin' here!" 

 "I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.  

"No!" 

"Yes!" 

"NO! And that's final!"  

The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.    

Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her.  "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead." 

"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.  

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange.  He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.  

"Hey!"  

Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair.  So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.  

"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.   

NEXT

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦ ♥ ◦∘ Peter Parker - Everything Happens for a Reason ∘◦ ♥ ◦∘

A/N - I only wrote it a couple of months ago and due to the close nature of it, I haven’t uploaded it anywhere. I hope you like my first (10k) Peter Parker fic. I know that the timeline doesn’t make sense, but in all honesty, Endgame and FFH messed it up plenty so I just kinda placed this in no-mans-time. And I know the compound was destroyed during Endgame, so just bear with the fact that I’ve made it so that Strange and his wizards rebuilt it for survivors :)

Warnings - making out and shadows to sex, SWEARING, bad parenting, mentions of grief, mentions of injury and disability, angst, death of parents etc. Also, don’t read if you haven’t seen endgame because it’ll be spoiled in the first paragraph of this. 

Summary - Stark!reader x Peter Parker, post endgame. Months after the death of your father, your aunt, and the retirement of your uncle, you find yourself in a sticky situation, and to make it even worse, your childhood crush doesn’t even recognise you now. Then again, doing most of your growing up while half of the population is dead doesn’t exactly bode well for your love life nor your commitment issues. When things finally start to turn around while learning to live with a disability, will you still be taken away to live with your step-mother, or will love pan out at last? After all, everything happens for a reason. 

IT'S BEEN JUST OVER THREE MONTHS since the final battle, and therefore just over three months since you said goodbye to the only three role models you had for the most important five years of your life. Well, the three are debatable. 

Your dad had died, still holding your hand, after saving humanity like he always did, allowing the burden of the Stark name to fall onto you at long last. Your uncle Steve - tutor extraordinaire - had officially retired and moved away, and you haven’t seen him since the final goodbye, leaving you more and more doubtful every day you’ll ever see him again. And your aunty Nat let herself go, she pushed herself away from that cliff, and let uncle Clint live, to help give you a better life, but what Nat didn’t realise was that you lost them both that day, because Clint hasn’t been back since. He’s never coming back now from the trauma, the man who was more of a father than your dad ever was.

It was quite possibly the worst period of your whole life, but then again, when half of the world is destroyed before you’ve even hit puberty, you don’t really have much to hold it against.

But here you are again, stuck in your room in the semi-rebuilt compound, grounded by FRIDAY while the step monster and child are at the lake house, living happily ever after. What the issue is, you don’t know. All you did was get a piercing... and be rude to Peter. And Sam. And everyone in the building- ok maybe she has a point, but hey, you’re grieving the loss of everyone major in your life, and you can barely do anything for yourself.

It’s like five years ago all over again. Everyone you’d grown accustomed to, your friends, your mom, your idols - even if they weren’t dead, they were lost for a long time - and your crush. The one and only Peter Parker. Much to your surprise, you got over most of the deaths pretty quickly. There wasn’t much to understand - they were gone and they wouldn’t come back no matter what, so what good would worrying and crying do? Obviously, as a young girl, this was the wrong response, so this is when Pepper got her name. “Don’t be so insensitive! Those were your dad's best friends, people he worked with for years. Those people were his family, and mine, and yours.”

You scoffed at her, the way you always seemed to do. “Yeah, ok. But my mum died, and am I making a fuss? No. She died for a reason, they all did,” and under your breath, you added “I still just need to figure that reason out.”

You held back from the obvious “they were my family too” bullshit, because your dad never believed that, even when you spent most of your time at his house with the Avengers instead of him. It wasn’t that you hated your mom or your dad, you loved them both equally and spent time with them both, but when one dies and one goes missing and spirals into lord knows what after going missing in space with a blue alienoid, everything gets a little complicated and stops making sense. Spending more time with your dad was scary too, seeing the intricacies of Avengers life in a capacity which you didn’t understand for a long time growing up. That only lasted for a year before he took off and made you be a tennis ball in a flawed game between him and Rhodey. Every weekend for five years you drove from the compound to the lake house. You lost out on a lot from that, and your dad didn’t even seem phased, because he had Morgan. 

But beneath all of the hatred that had made you so rebellious since you turned fifteen, there was something deeper.

Considering how stone faced and resolute you are and always have been, considering how harsh you are about the realities and never getting caught up in mindless emotions, no matter how much you claim that your grieving time was over the second that you pushed your dad's heart away, mere weeks after feeling his pulse drop as you laced your fingers with his, no one would believe that it was all a lie.

Every night since that snap more than five years ago, you’ve done the same thing. Make a cup of hot chocolate (an iced decaf latte if it was summer), and you’d take it to bed and just cry until you could no more and simply fell asleep. You weren’t even sure why you cried, because after all there wasn’t really any reason to. The world was moving on, albeit slower than before, and your life  was about as much locked into place as it could be with Tony Stark as your father, but the crying just felt obligatory. After ten, FRIDAY always turned off in your room, that was the agreement your mom had with your dad whenever you stayed there, although you weren’t sure why it made a difference, and it just stuck, so no one saw the pointless tears, no one heard, and no one cared. The only one who ever did care enough whenever you cried had been snapped away, and now he was back, you were just another repugnant face in the crowds, or so you’d guess with the way he looked down upon you.

 “It’s ok dad,” you said with a completely straight face, your hard eyes locked onto his, your entire being completely void of emotion, “you can go to sleep.”

He squeezed your hand with his forefinger and middle finger, very lightly, and he just croaked out his final words to you, “my beautiful Sloane, so brave.” So quiet that they were only decipherable to you.

“Life functions critical,” the Irish accent rang in your ears.

Pete had already said his goodbyes, but now it was Pepper’s turn as she wiped your dad's tears away. This time you should’ve been there for each other, a support for one another, after all, they were losing him together and were in the same boat, but sometimes even grief can’t bring people together. 

“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be ok..” she pleaded. 

Your dad's eyes moved from yours to hers, a sluggish movement that took the remaining life from him. He moved his lips to form two words that broke your heart, because you knew that they were directed at all of you, and they meant so much more than anyone else could understand. Those words were his attempt at making up for being such a shit dad. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Pepper kissed him. “You can rest now.”

You didn’t even look around to see anyone else’s face , especially not Peters or Peppers, because as soon as his pulse stopped and his skin slipped from your grip, his body cold, you knew that the chapter of your life with your father in it was over, so you pulled your mask back over your face, and strutted away, as far as possible. You ignored your limp completely, because with all of the numbness, it was like you couldn’t even feel the pain. Except you didn’t disappear, no way, you couldn’t. You watched as they all knelt for him, for the man who missed all of your firsts in life, who was absent when you needed a father and a friend and a leader, and even though you were chronically broken within, every terrible emotion gnawing at you, screaming at you to just feel something and express it; you didn’t. You suppressed it all, and walked away. And of no surprise to you at all, no one followed, or even noticed you were gone.

After all, Tony Stark died for a reason, and at least this time you knew what that reason was. 

 “Miss?” Someone’s snapping their fingers beside your ear, driving you mental but also snapping you awake from whatever dream that was, reliving the scariest day of your life. “Miss, you fell asleep at the table. We’re clearing it for dinner, please.”

You roll your eyes up at him, instantly recognising Pete’s voice, but you just don’t care. He doesn’t even know who you are. So you scoff, the way you did at Pepper so long ago, and you leave without a second glance.

“Are you a relative of Nat’s? I- I heard someone was coming over to stay...” his voice yells down the corridor.

“You can’t be serious Peter. You don’t recognise me at all?”

And with that, you snatch your water bottle from the edge of the counter with your spare hand and resolutely stamp off down the corridor, your feet loosely wading in your docs with your crutch assisting you along the way.

You’re leaving soon, so you won’t have to deal with him. But you still have another year or two of high school to compete with, and with your tutor gone - your dad refused to send you back to school after the snap, so it was left up to whoever wanted the job, and Cap wanted it a lot more than he did, so you spent your weeks driving from the city to the lake house after finishing the weeks tutoring, to spend time with your ‘family’ - and now, you seriously doubted that anyone else would want the job. Bucky is too hormonal and grieving the loss of his best friend, Banner is freaking you out, Clint is off the grid from another breakdown and it’s like he’s not even human anymore, Wilson is too busy with his new training regime and fighting Buck, and Scott doesn’t know the first thing about what you need to learn thanks to his ditsy persona. Which only leaves Pepper and Rhodey, and which forces you to go back and live in the lake house, away from the shambles of the rebuilt compound, all thanks to Strange and his wizards.

Maybe this is what you need, because now you don’t have to see Pete and get offended every single time he forgets your name and doesn’t have a clue who you are.

That night, you skipped your crying routine, and felt no better nor worse off for doing so. You simply dosed up on your painkillers and drifted off to sleep, filled with irritation and dreams of a mousey hero.

 For the next couple of days, you’d just gone about your business and avoided the funny looks from all of the other Avengers at your foul demeanour. None of them that were in and out of the rebuilt compound ever really took notice of you anymore, and you weren’t sure that any of them recognised you anymore, not with all of the piercings and hair dye and the crutches. After all, the last time most of them knew you, you were an annoying child who watched them work and ate dinners with them, and your dinners consisted of smiley face waffles and chicken nuggets. And besides, you were perfectly able back then, and you often had little friends over, or your mom would pop in to say hi on your way home. There’s no chance of that happening anymore. Bucky had recognised you, smiled at you, and occasionally made jokes about you being crippled together, so with any issues you could just turn to him, but this Peter thing annoyed you too much to talk about it, and you didn’t know why. 

Speak of the devil-

“Hey, can I sit?” He asks, standing just behind the sofa and hovering awkwardly.

“I don’t care,” you say, all of your words merging and slurring. You signal to the seat beside you yet far enough away for him not to be a bother, and he takes it.

“So h-how are you?” 

You watch him suspiciously out of the corner of your eye, because you can just feel his eyes on you, namely on your tits that had suddenly appeared in the last few years. 

“I’m fine thank you, Peter. It’s not like no one knows who the fuck I am and I’m living in a literal post war, dystopian, apocalyptic world all alone. How are you, Spider-Man?”

He blanches before your eyes, and you can physically see any words die in the back of his throat.

“I-I’m good.”

Everything stills for a little while, and the only sounds are what's playing on TV and Peter’s occasional swallows, making his Adams apple Bob in your peripheral view. He doesn’t dare look at you, and you can just sense his agitation, mainly from the way he fidgets and weighs the sofa cushions down weirdly with his weird spider legs. 

It only takes half an hour for you to wear down and ask him the burning question, his presence beside you enough to make your skin tingle in anticipation and anger bubble within, not to mention the girlish sense that overwhelms you, so contrasting to your dark clothes and self-given bridge piercing. 

“Why don’t you speak to me anymore, Peter? Do you seriously not recognise me?”

His eyes fall and his face turns sallow, and he stammers over a few consonants, unable to form any real words.

“I’m Tony’s daughter.” You announce, facing him head on. “Y/N Stark.”

Only after you’ve said that do you realise that he’ll have absolutely no clue what you’re saying, but you can see the cogs whirring in his head as everything is pieced together. His eyes lock onto yours, and they’re the one feature you haven’t changed about yourself in the years that he was gone.

“I changed my name last year, I used to be-”

“-Sloane Stark.” he finishes with you. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off yours, too lost in them after he’s been without them for so long. Something’s clicked inside, but scepticism overtakes him. You grasp your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the base of your neck, all the loose ringlets in different shades tickling your neck, but it reveals a thin, pale, bumpy scar on your skin; a thin and jagged line that runs from the base of your ear to the start of your clavicle. You’ve had it since you were 11, when Peter first became a regular at the compound and you began to play together, but then an accident happened, and Peter stayed by your side as you got the stitches, holding your hand. 

Finally, he cottons on, and you can see the tears welling up in his chocolate brown orbs.

“Sloane…”

He virtually leaps from his seat and throws his arms around you, completely overcome with all kinds of inexplicable feelings. Love seeps from his body into yours, he clings to you, and even buries his nose into your hair, taking a deep inhalation before sighing in contentment. Even when the average hug time has passed, he doesn’t release you, and keeps his arms wrapped like a koala around your shoulders, his body slowly getting closer and closer towards you and for some reason making you blush. Your arms remain limp around him, and your forefinger traces figures on his lower back, but you don’t squeeze him as much as you did when the surprise of his cuddle attack first hit you. 

He eases himself away, but still keeps his hand on your arm, a gentle and warm presence. 

It doesn’t hit you for a while that it’s the first hug you’ve received in months, and the first one from Peter in five and a half years.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t snap away like the rest of us then…?” he asks shyly. 

His spare hand immediately retracts and rubs the back of his neck anxiously, just the way he used to, but only now do you understand why.

“Nah, I didn’t,” you say, “Sadly I was stuck here in this shambles of an earth, dealing with everyone else's depression and having a little sister forced upon me. I couldn’t even go to school, it was awful.”

His face falls into a deep frown and he searches your face for any sign of your words being cynical, but he finds nothing.

“W-why did you change your name then?”

You shrug, for what feels like the hundredth time in his presence, “Sloane is an awful name, it means ‘raider’ in bloody Irish. None of my family is Irish, my dad suggested the name when he was drunk, and my mum couldn’t think of anything better. Y/N makes me feel like me.”

He nods understandingly and doesn’t push the matter, so you offer a half smile and move your attention back to the TV.

“Why did you change you?” he asks all of a sudden.

The question instantly ingrains itself into your brain, and makes your heart ache. Why would he ask such a thing? Doesn’t he understand what's happened? Why does he even care? But the last thought makes you sick to your stomach, because you know that he always has cared and he always will, he promised you that the first time he was babysitting you and you got all het up over something on the TV. Maybe a part of him knew that it was you all along but he just couldn’t broach the subject, or maybe he didn’t and he thought you’d been snapped away and you simply hadn’t returned. No matter what it was,you knew that you couldn’t blame him, but as his question bounced around your brain and repeated, you had no idea what happened, but you felt any compassion shrivel up, your heart grew cold, your demeanour turned harsh, and your kind response died in your throat. You look him dead in the face and straighten yourself up, your eyes devoid of all feeling.

“My mom died, all of my idols and my family and school friends died - Scott, Buck, Sam, you - and my dad was never the same again. I was left with him and the step monster who, who for the record doesn't even like me because of my mom, and Morgan came along, so they forgot about me, and I only stayed three days a week because the rest of the time I was stuck here with a depressed Nat and  counsellor Steve, and the latter had to teach me everything I needed for the finish of middle school and my freshman and sophomore years, which was hard in itself. Dad was so depressed, he wouldn’t listen to the words I said about the other Avengers, so apart from Steve tutoring me, I basically raised myself for two years, without friends or anything, and they were two of the most important years of my life . Everyone forgot about me. I was just turned fifteen and more adept at coping in this world than any adult I’ve known. I hated my name and what came with it, and I never really liked myself, that's always been the case. I hated my appearance and I had no one to make me feel nice when you died, because you always told me that I was pretty, just like a princess, and you kept me sane. Fuck, Pete, you held me together, and all of that faded when you died, because as soon as you were gone, everything else around me crumbled.” You inhale a sharp intake of breath, and move to stand, snatching your crutches from the floor. “Long story short, while all of you were gone, I grew up. I’m 17 now, I may be different to how you remember but at least I feel comfortable now. I really did grow up peter, and you need to start doing the same. My dad is never coming back.”

And just like the days before, you scurry off back to your room and bury any inhibitions beneath your pillow, leaving Peter in the living room, completely crushed and left to mull your words over alone while he waits for May to get home.

 Five days later, and you can’t take the silence anymore. Peter practically hides and runs for shelter each time he hears you approach, you saw the footage on FRIDAY’s cams. It really upset you for the first two days, but with each shy, rushed smile and fleeting glance he takes at you, each one that makes your stomach do little flips, they just remind you how cruel you were to him, how brutally honest, when Peter needs more time to heal than you do most likely, as your dad meant more to Pete than he did to you, and if anything then that's a reflection on Tony. He wanted a son. Maybe Peter feels guilty, mabe he’s sad, maybe he just straight up doesn’t like you, but whatever it is, you don’t fucking like it, so you’re preparing for the move in two days time. Far earlier than planned. 

With each piece of clothing you fold, with each piece of metal shrapnel you toss into your jewellery box, with each eyeliner you tuck away in a bag, you run everything that's happened in the past week through your head. You called Scott up to see how he’s getting on with Hope and Cassie, you spoke to Laura - no longer a secret - who just told you that Barton is in almost as bad a place as before, just without the machetes and with a lot more crying and whiskey, you spoke to Rhodey for an update on the lake house/new home situation and put all of the plans in place, but you did shut down his heartfelt offer to be another father figure, starting with a controversial suggestion to send you to therapy or rehab for your ‘lashing outs’, and you’d made amends with Sam who was surprisingly okay with your whole new thing going on, and he said he loved your vibe and gave hair dye suggestions, making you rethink your decision to leave all over again. Bucky had taken you shopping, hoping for retail to cure both of your depressive episodes, but it didn't really help even if the long, deep conversation over milkshakes at a nearby diner did help, and he cradled your head in his lap as you told him you’d miss him more than the others. He told you that you were being stupid about Peter and that the kid really likes you, but you retorted with a scoff, saying he’d never fancy you the way you fancy him.

Ah, yeah, that revelation, the one which makes you throw a sweater full force into your open trunk, sitting at the base of your bed. With a loud groan, you throw yourself dramatically down onto the bed and savour the soft comforter for one of the last times; after all, the place will probably be gone, along with the remnants of FRIDAY by the time you return, if you ever go. 

“Where are you off to?” Peter asks from the doorway, his voice inquisitive and startling you from your angered daze. 

He must’ve seen your bags half packed in your room, lying out on your bed beside you. You turn your head to look at him, your eyes thin and bullet-like.

“I’m leaving.” You snap rather viciously, and prop yourself up on your elbows. “The Cap’n has gone, and I’ve been out of school too long to go back. The Step-Monster needs to ‘tutor me’, and I need to teach the little brat.” You’re referring to Morgan, but Peter doesn’t seem to pick that up by the looks of his furrowed brows. He certainly looks relaxed though, leaning against your doorframe. 

“Why can’t you stay here?” Peter asks and You shrug, unsure how to respond. “I- I’m sure Mr Falcon would help teach you, or- or Wanda?”

Shit, Wanda. You’d practically forgotten she existed from how much of a recluse she was now. You should probably go and check on her or at the very least have a chat with her. She was dead for five years, just like Vis, but when she comes back she’s still not over him after months? Sounds fake but ok...

“Wanda has even less of an education than I do.” You retaliate with a foul attitude and an even fouler taste in your mouth, turning your back on him when you stand, and going back to your packing. You try your best to ignore his presence, but you can just feel him hovering metres away, itching to do or say something to you.

“Well then you can stay living here and enrol in Midtown High with me. We’d be the same year now and I could show you the ropes.”

Ok now you know he’s fucking with you.

“Peter, I can’t go to midtown.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been out of co-ed for too long, let alone education, as I haven’t had any since like fucking February, and I’m too traumatised and crippled for them. How would that look eh? Y/N Stark enrolling for junior year after the death of The Tony Stark?” Peter goes quiet. “And anyway, it’s not like I have the brains, at all. I’m not smart like you, Peter. I’m as thick as two short planks. I got my mom’s brains and some of my dad's abilities. I can chuck on suits all I like, I can build shit all day, and I can play sports like no one's business; or at least I could.” Having your one ankle completely useless is a complete bummer, maybe even more so than losing everyone, because now you actually have to live with being this way. They don’t have to live. “But the second you give me a math equation, I’m gone.”

“Couldn’t you live with your mom then? Mr Stark said she doesn’t live too far out of state, nowhere near as far as the lake house.”

“My dads fucking dead Peter, he doesn’t control shit anymore” You find yourself shouting, your eyes burning into his with a fire of fury behind them. “My mom came back after the snap but she hasn’t answered any of my calls, and she fled the house when I turned up on her goddamn doorstep. She ain’t no option anymore, my authority is Potts.”

He gives you a sad smile but slinks away. No surprise there, last time he saw you, you were twelve years old and tugging on his trouser leg to get him to play basketball with you. You didn’t have anywhere near this level of anger, and you’d never have dared scream at him, let alone repeating the words that hit him like daggers mere days ago. 

 The next day comes too soon, and you’re just chilling , finishing up the last of your packing, and trying to ignore anything pushing you to stay. Why did your chat with Peter compel you to want to stay here instead? What is it about him that always brings you full circle, and makes you feel like that love struck child again?

From your mirror, as you’re adjusting your blouse and switching out your nose stud, you see Peter approaching, steadily advancing down the corridor. Twice he stops, and takes a step back, as well as turning and looking the other way as though doubting his decision to come into your room, but when you see his knuckles come in contact with the wood of your door, as he knocks gently, and the sound floats into your ears, making you turn around to see his meek smile with his head hung low.

“You can come in Pete,” you exhale, “I won’t bite your head off.”

He chuckles lowly and advances towards the bed. He gestures, and you nod, giving him permission and hobbling over to join him moments later. He seems flustered, you can tell me by the way he’s struggling to maintain eye contact and the manner in which his hands are convulsing in his lap. Seeing him like this makes you uncomfortable, and you can even feel bile rising in your throat. 

“Peter, I-”

“No, Y/N, please let me, I mean, I wanna talk.”

You smile and bow out, allowing him space to align his thoughts with his words, after all, you’ve known that it takes him a while to do that, but it’s necessary in any kind of emotional situation with someone as awkward as Petter; just the thought causes butterflies to flutter around in your stomach and windpipe.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, for nagging you and insisting, and for asking you those questions and trying to make you stay. I just, I really just don’t want you to leave. I was insensitive, and I should’ve recognised you beforehand.” You can feel tears pooling behind your eyes, and it takes all of your willpower to not let them fall. “I just want you to do as well as you can, and I wish you all the best, I just wish I could’ve gotten to know you better  before it was too late; ok Stark?”

His lips quirk into a smile, yet his voice breaks as he calls you Stark. It physically hurts to hear him say that, and you want to tell him that it’s okay, and he has every right to be upset and grieving, and you know you shouldn’t have shouted at him and gotten so defensive because after all he’s one of the only people you can let your guard down around. You just want to say that it’s not his fault, except you can’t find the words.

“Why can’t you stay?” He asks sincerely, even a touch of desperation there.

Your heart drops to your feet at his expression, and your next words come out as a hushed, pained whisper, your words slow and detached. “I have no reason to stay.”

He nods dejectedly, almost like he’s giving up on something, and he even moves to stand up while your eyes are glued to the way his muscles ripple with each movement, but halfway to being upright, he changes his mind and turns towards you.

The next thing you know, you feel the soft pressure of his thumb on your chin, followed by the pads of his fingers on the soft skin underneath, tilting your head up to look him in his gorgeous eyes, like molten honey in the soft sunlight of your bedroom. Just the sight of his lips slightly parted causes your mouth to go dry, but you don’t have too long to think about that, because all of your thoughts dissipate with the featherlight pressure and sweet, intoxicating taste of his lips on yours. His nose nudges your cheek ever so gently. It’s barely there, and over far too soon, it still makes your head spin. Christ, you’ve been waiting for that to happen for upwards of five years, and it was just as beautiful as you hoped it would be.

“How about now?” He inquires, a stark contrast of shyness and courage written all over his face.

“Why don’t you kiss me again and we’ll find out?”

You fist the fabric of his t-shirt and pull him towards you, leaving Peter shocked by the strength in just one hand, seeing as he finds his body hovering above yours just seconds later. He looks hungry, already ravishing you with his eyes as you kiss and kitten lick just below his ear. He holds his weight up but leaves no time to press his lips against yours, urgently, passionately. You moan a little at how desperate he is to get his hands on you, the way he knots one hand in your hair, splayed out on the pillow beside you, the way he’s senselessly grinding his crotch onto you. You don’t mind at all, especially not the breathy calls of your name he lets out when you knot your legs around his lower back to pull him closer. It's a primal desire that keeps you moving. His tongue glides across your lower lip, prying its way in, and you just let it happen, too caught up in the moment to do anything else.

“Pete, fuck…”

Your one hand slides under his shirt and runs across the ripples of his abs, you savour the way he tenses beneath your touch, the way the scars feel tenders beneath your hungry touch. You other hand threads into his soft brown locks. You pull gently and elicit the most perfect guttural groan from him.

“Y/N,” he almost pleads, and his lips move to gently suck on your jawline. 

You’re surprised that he isn't calling you Sloane, but you certainly aren't complaining. Your name from his tongue does things to you that you can’t even explain.

You dance your fingers from his hair across to his face, and push his cheek gently. Your eyes are thin, focussed on him, but Peter’s pupils are heavily blown with lust, leaving only a faint rim of golden brown around the edge. 

“You’re so perfect,” he rasps out, and your stomach coils in desire. Your face must look so pouty, so wanton, but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Fuck me, Peter.”

He looks like a deer in headlights momentarily, but gets over it quickly, attaching his lips back on yours and allowing his tongue to roam your mouth, savuring and swallowing every whimper and moan that escapes your pretty lips.You let your hand, the one still beneath his shirt, skim over his muscles to where his heart is, beating at a double pace, thrumming gently beneath your hand. It makes your ego inflate tenfold, knowing that you’ve gotten this flustered and needy.

Just as you’re really getting lost in the pleasure, Peter’s hand cupping and massaging your breast as his mouth works wonders on intoxicating you, you hear a rather loud cough from your doorway, and everything stops. You and Peter both freeze at the same moment, and you drop any stance, fully detaching yourselves to glance at who’s there.

“You kids should be careful, and next time, close the door.”

And with that, Bucky’s gone from view as quickly as he appeared, leaving you both with a mere glimpse at him in his sweats with a coffee cup in his hands, no doubt filled with earl grey tea being the old lady he is. 

In the heat of the moment, you’d both forgotten to close the door and turn FRIDAY off. And Rhodey can access all of the footage. Fuck. Oh well, you’ve already been caught once, why stop now?

You wrap an arm around Peter's shoulders and pull yourself up until you’re straddling his lap and upper thighs, eagerly rubbing yourself against the material of his jeans to try and get some kind of friction. He slides an arm around your waist, and you move in to kiss him, only for him to turn his head the other way. 

The moment couldn’t have been lost from Bucky’s playfully snarky comment, could it? You want nothing more than for him to kiss you again, earnestly, fervently, but he doesn’t even spare you a glance, not even when he pushes you from his lip and stands up with his head in his hands.

Apparently he doesn’t feel the same.

“Crap, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Why did I do that? Y/N…”

He even begins to pace, that’s when you know that he thinks he’s fucked up.

“You know why I shouldn’t have done that right, don’t you?” he asks, stuttering random syllables in no specific order, but you do notice that with each pace, he paces his way closer to your open door.

“Yeah,” you lie, but you’ll work that out tonight, “I get it. But it’s fine. And I need to pack…”

He smiles nervously, and with a few careless gestures and no words, he stalks into the corridor and closes your door behind him. You can hear him lettering a long-held breath out. 

All of a sudden, you feel completely sick to your stomach. Why would he do that? It was so God damn cryptic. One second he’s apologising, asking you to stay, pashing you senseless, and the next he’s keeping as much distance from you as possible, apologising, and treating you like a child.

That’s when it hits you.

He feels like he’s kissing the old you. You grew up without him there, and in the space of what was merely a nap to him, you grew five years older, grew tits, matured, changed every aspect about yourself, and developed a sex drive; whereas he didn’t change one bit, he’s still the same peter that he was when you were an aggravating child, crushing on him from afar and trying to be like him. He feels predatory at kissing you, because all he’s ever known you as is a child, and this is all new territory, a territory he’s too scared to broach because he can’t get permission from the man himself.

Maybe that’s why your dad had to die, so that you’d never end up with Peter, and that’s Earth punishing you for some godforsaken reason.

So you just lie there, far salty tears involuntarily dripping down your cheeks as you sit there and think. Will you ever just be fucking happy?

 Happy’s set to pick you up at noon today, and after a night of scarcely five hours of sleep, you are not in the mood for anyone and their funny business, especially not Peter, and you aren’t exactly peppy for the hour long drive to arrive there with the Bimbo and the Brat. Well, at least everyone has low expectations of you, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue when you simply scowl at them and flip them off until you chuck yourself into the car and wave them goodbye for the last time. You’re not sure if the gravity of the situation has hit you yet, maybe you’re repressing it, or maybe it simply just does not bother you, the same way that most things don’t.

You don’t even bother with your appearance, and stick to black trackies and a cropped tank top, with a mildly colourful button-down open over the top. Seeing as your docs are packed in the ‘hide from Pepper’ box, you toss on your worn down black converse and begrudgingly throw your hair up in what you hoped would be a messy bun but ends up looking more like a lopsided half-up ponytail, so you snap the hair tie and throw it away. Hey, that’s an easy way to deal with the Peter issue. Snap him in half and chuck him in the trash where he rightfully belongs after yesterday. 

All you have for breakfast is an iced coffee, and justly so, no one dares even make eye contact with you. By ten, all of your bags are out in the hallway, and not a single personal affect is left in your room. You say a quick goodbye to FRIDAY, and hobble out into the living room, where you spend the next almost two hours either staring blankly ahead of you and ignoring what’s on the screen, or picking at your crutches while you analyse the previous day with Peter. No matter how much you want to hate him, you can't refute the way he made you feel, completely under his control, so willing and malleable, so eager and hungry and loved.

 Happy pulls up at 11.55, and you begin to help him load everything into the car, but get refused after two bags and therefore two trips downstairs after you nearly fall face first and your crutches slip from your arms. The rest is down within seconds by Sam and Bucky.

You said goodbye to Wanda a couple of days ago when you popped in for a chat, but she’d still made her way out here, so you give her a quick hug and wish her well, and you see that May has made her way out to see you off, but Peter is nowhere to be found which makes your cheeks burn with anger.

“I’m so sorry for now knowing who you were my love,” she tells you, running a hand through your hair, “Peter told me all about you before it all happened, he said you were such a cutie, and I know that he would’ve made more of an effort had he recognised you.”

You chuckle softly, hug her, and simply don’t reply. What are you supposed to say to something like that? Bucky and Sam appear back at the top of the stairs and advance towards you, knocking each other out of the way in a playful battle to hug you first. Sam wins by tickling Bucky just beneath his ribs, and bear hugs you, making you feel like a baby koala. 

“Use protection next time, and please, God, shut the door.” He whispers in your ear, making you jump away, your jaw slack, utterly aghast, but he just laughs at your expense.

“You told him about that?” you accuse Bucky, shoving a finger at his chest.

He raises his hands in surrender and even lets out a chuckle before cuddling you, his metal arm somehow a comforting presence around you. 

“Of course I did, Doll. It was too good not to tell.”

You swat him gently on his chest, but instead of pulling away just yet, you bury your face in his t-shirt for possibly the last time. 

“You two kids get along, or I might have to come here and whip your asses.” you glance between Bucky and Sam, making them laugh, but they nod nonetheless and step backwards to join May, allowing you to leave. You grasp your crutches and let your arms fall through the rests, your hands slipping around the handles like second nature, and you start to make your way out. Something that resembles hope begins to blossom in your stomach, so you muster all of your courage and take a fleeting glimpse over your shoulder, but much to your disappointment yet not very much surprise, he isn’t there. You feel something within your chest physically break, and with the pain all over your body, emotional above all else, stemming from betrayal, you wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t your heart strings. Oh well, you tell yourself, and in recovery from bowing your head down in embarrassment, you hold your shoulders high with any remaining pride as you take the few steps to the door, ignoring the tears that begin to fall. Your tears are possibly the most confusing thing about this ordeal, you never cried before, not from emotion at least. 

“Stop- Y/N, wait, please Sloane…” you hear breathless shouts, followed by hurried footsteps on the linoleum. Instantly, you recognise his voice. “Please stop, I’m begging you.”

You halt your steps, and prop your crutches against the wall, but are slow to turn around, and even when you do, it takes you a moment to actually meet his gaze. His eyes hold all of the hurt he’s feeling. He hardly slept, you can tell by the red rims and deep, sallow bags. The warm chocolate colour is slightly murky, something of an anger in them, maybe even a sense of loss.

You can’t track anything more, because you take one step forwards, and he begins to virtually sprint towards you, his hair bouncing as he dashes across the floor and entwines his arms around you like vines, relentlessly squeezing you and ceasing to let go. He simply just stands there, glued to the spot, holding onto you, and once more you feel the tears well in your eyes. You’ve never been hugged this way, not by anyone, so you make the most of it and gently grasp his t-shirt to draw him impossibly closer, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and adoration. He moves one hand up to knot in your matted hair, and buries your head closer into his shoulder, which you welcome, even if you’re wetting the shoulder of his shirt with your tears. You lose count of the time until you let go, just savouring the way he holds you so lovingly, and you don’t particularly ever want to let go. All of the rest of the world has disappeared. But still, you both detach yourselves just a little, and you find your lips mere inches away from his perfect lips. Without another thought, something otherworldly takes over, and you find your lips planted together in the most intimate way possible. The tip of his tongue barely has to swipe your lower lip before you grant him access, and as you do, your mind and soul proclaim thanks to the gods. He tastes like heaven and cherry pie - his favourite - and he feels even better. The way his tongue dances with yours is like a massage, second nature, and God, you never want it to stop with how crazy he’s making your mind go, let alone the flock of butterflies fluttering around your stomach. His one hand shifts to the small or your back, and you find yourself wrapping your arms even tighter around Peter until your hands touch, and you have him held in place, in the most perfect position, the one where you know he belongs.

You separate, gasping for air and gulping as much down as you can in such a short amount of time before his hands are in your hair again and he’s kissing you just as sweetly, yet hotly, as before. The sensual way he gazes at you makes your insides turn to mush in seconds, and you have to look away even before he kisses you again because you fear you shan’t be able to keep his gaze if you ever want to leave this place with your heart intact. This kiss isn’t as long, you realise that as your hands drop to his waist and stay there lightly, feeling the skin above his hips rippling beneath his tensing muscles. His body shifts, as does his grip on you, and he starts to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks, just small, precious pecks that keep your heart beating with joy and longing. Just the feeling of his lips kissing away your tears as he hovers above you makes you feel alive at long last, and he makes you feel more cherished than you ever imagined you could.

“You need to go, Happy’ll start honking for you any second.” he breathes, the softness of his breath running your eyelashes and allowing your eyes to flutter clothes, his freckles disappearing from your view for a second. Then, as if on cue, Happy's horn resounds. “I’ll walk you down.”

He looks so crestfallen as he pulls away from your and passes you your crutches, keeping a safe distance. And although you both know that everyone saw, it doesn’t matter, and no one says a word, they all just observe quietly, but you can tell that they’re smiling down on you both. You can still taste your salty tears mingled together pressing on your lips, the taste of just indescribably, distinctly Peter stuck in your mouth, a taste you never want to stop tasting. 

When Peter crushes, you oblige and scramble onto his back as he carries your crutches, and the walk down the stairwell to where Happy’s parked on the sidewalk is a silent one, but it’s still comfortable. There are so many things the two of you want to say to each other, but it’s too hard to express them given that you’re about to be shipped off somewhere that he’ll probably never make your acquaintance again, no matter how much he wants to spend all of his time with you. You’re more conflicted than you’ve ever felt, so stressed, so hurt, but at the same time you’re so happy that you got to make those memories with Peter before you leave, elated that you made up with him, pleased that you got to feel him kiss you one last time. 

When you reach the concrete, Peter gently places you down on your feet, and he puts your crutches into the open door at the back of the car and proceeds to stand nervously beside you, his hands behind his back as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. You have your head down, anxious beyond comparison, just staring at the gravel, until one of Peter's hands comes out from where it was and takes your trembling hand into his palm, his fingers slowly tangling around yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. He switches his gaze over to you and catches your eye. He smiles briefly before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. 

“I’ve fancied you since I was eleven,” you tell him, “That’s almost six years, that’s a long ass time.” a brief hint of humour creeps into your pained, quiet voice.

He just chuckles and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, making you smile, despite the pain of the situation. He speaks to you real soft. “I know.”

Your hand feels like it was meant to fit in his and sends a new sort of warmth shooting through your body, but it doesn’t last long before he’s helping you into the backseat of the car and reluctantly removing his nimble fingers from their grip around yours, and placing a gentle, chaste kiss to your forehead for good measure, a kiss you’ll always treasure.

“Don’t,” you plead, feeling a sob suddenly choke your throat when all that’s left are his fingertips grazing yours. “Don’t let go, Peter, please.”

It’s difficult to remain stoic around Peter now, it’s like everything just completely pivoted the day he kissed you, and if you’re honest, you don’t want to go back. You don’t want to be the hateful girl you once were, just longing for him to come back. Now he is back, you don’t have to wait anymore, and he can help you be your old self again. If only he’d just hold your hand forever, and you could actually be together.

And then it hits you. You need Peter almost as much as you need air to breathe, and if he lets go, you’ll be lost, and it’ll feel like it did for five whole years, you’ll be lonely and isolated, and even in the few days that you’ve had him back in your life, that feeling has completely dissipated and been replaced with an albeit confused elation and a warmth of love. 

“I have to,” he whispers back his eyes already red, “I have to let you go. It’s what Mr Stark would want.”

He pulls away and closes the door in one swift movement, turning his back on you. You see his mop of brunette curls slip down from view when you peer out the window, hot tears burning your cheeks. You know he’s sitting on the side, his head in his hands, but you can’t look that far, so instead you listen to the soft purr of the car as it comes to live, and you let your laboured breath steam up the glass that your hands are placed on. As you begin to pull away, your final glimpse at your old home escaping you, you see Peter waving frantically and beginning to job alongside you, only stopping once you exit the driveway. Thanks to the tinted windows, you know he can’t see you, but you see him anyway and wave back before your pain overwhelms you. That happens the second he’s gone from your peripheral vision, and your chest caves in loud, wrenching sobs that’ll leave you in pain for days. 

Is this what it feels like to have your heartbroken? 

Of course it is, you know this, but all of the times you’ve felt it before, it still hasn’t felt this bad. You know that it’s happening for a reason, that God is punishing you this way for a reason, but no matter how hard you try, it just seems endlessly painful, and all for nothing. What could possibly be the reason for this?

You’re so locked in your thoughts that you barely realise that Happy has slowed the car down, and is looking over his shoulder at you, trying to bring you back down by asking how you are and how you feel. Did he not just see that display?

“If I was allowed to stay,” you slightly pant, your teeth gripping and your first clenching of their own accord, “then it could’ve been me and Peter. Just the two of us, the way it was supposed to be as I was growing up. But everything happens for a fucking reason, right?”

Happy just swallows and mumbles something incoherent before sliding the glass back over and starting up at another steady speed. You don’t know why you’re so... angry all of a sudden; you shouldn’t be angry, you should be upset and almost grieving, crying for the loss of an old home but excited for a new one. But yet, what’s the point in all of that? You’ve felt those emotions plenty of times in your short life, and you always thought you felt them for a reason, but where the ever loving fuck is that reasoning right now when you actually need it? 

Grieving has lost its effect on you by now, and your mind feels hostile from all of the thoughts whirring around. You’ve had the same thoughts every time someone died - every time you thought your dad died, when your mom died, when Peter died, when everyone else just turned to dust. Then you felt them all over again when your dad died, for real this time, but what was the point? Nothing good ever came of it… nothing except grieving for Peter. You felt the same way you do now, only now it's somehow worse, yet he isn’t dead. You grieved for him more than you did your own mother, because he cared, because he actually paid attention, because he told you that you were pretty for the first time in your life. He always treated you like a person, like an equal, even when you were just a clingy child, vying for someone's attention when neglected by both of your parents because they had better things to do. But even now, now he recognises you again, he’s treated you like an equal, maybe even put you on a pedestal after you were extremely terse and treated him horribly. He still kissed you and cared for you and loved you-

SHIT.

You love Peter. Surely that must’ve been obvious for a long time, but now you’re finally admitting it. You really, genuinely, wholeheartedly love the little shit. Your stomach churns with nerves, and your mind tells you that you’re insane, but your heart… your heart has known all along, despite how much you fought it, and it’s now telling you to go along with it. You’re so… overcome with emotions that you don’t even know where to start or how to react or even try to begin to suss them out to deal with them so you do what feels like second nature the past few days, and you begin to cry, unable to choke it down any longer.

“Turn back happy,” you plead, “Shit! I said turn back now Goddammit!”

“I can’t, Sloane, you know I can’t, bosses orders.”

His words just hurt you more, if that was even possible, and pile something new onto the burning pile of emotions battling for territory within your exhausted brain. 

“Happy, turn back right the fuck now, or I will scream until the glass breaks.”

When he does nothing, your sobs become harsher, and something in your throat snaps, forcing you to become hysterical. It’s something primal that takes over your body, a demon's force, because God knows you wouldn’t usually have this in you. You scream. It’s just a shrill sound to begin with, until your heaving chest and tears break through, and make it into a full hysterics game.

“HAPPY! TAKE ME HOME, TAKE ME TO PETER!” you screech, and you repeat the same words until you can’t breathe any longer, but even when your lungs fail you, your hands don’t. 

You clip your seatbelt undone and begin punching the glass. It starts off just to be the dark tinted window separating you from happy and the wheel that would allow you to drive home, but even though the glass begins to wobble, it isn’t enough, so you move to the windows, your knuckles and palms coming in contact with the night shaded glass again and again until they’re rattling and even beginning to crack, but the second you feel you can, you release the most bestial, guttural scream that you can muster, and punctuate it with a rough shove to Happy’s chair.

You want to stop, but with all of the loss you’ve been through, you just need this one thing, this one person, this one place to feel complete, and none of it’s happening. It’s unspeakable, indescribable the way you feel, the turf war that’s occurring all over your body driving you insane. 

“Just take me to Peter,” you finally beg after what seems like an eternity, collapsing completely into your seat, “I need him, Happy. I need Peter, please… please.”

You’re drained, dehydrated, hurt, and it doesn’t seem like that’s going to change any time soon. You’re driving away from the only happiness you’ve ever known to live in the arse end of nowhere with two people you hate, and so a void just takes over everything that previously embodied you, and you succumb to the emptiness, your last thought being of all the tears you’ve cried over one boy, the only one you’ve ever loved, and now you can’t even tell him that. 

It was hard to grieve for someone, only for them to come back, the same way it was hard to grieve for someone who never gave a toss about you. That's what you’re finding so hard about all of this. But now, none of that matters, because he’s gone.

Two months later

The doorbell to the house rings for the third time today, driving you utterly up the wall. First it was the postie with some kind of oversized parcel for Morgan, then it was Happy, here again to help outside and be a ‘watchful eye’ while Pepper is out grocery shopping, apparently since they still don’t trust you rough to take decent care of your own sister.

“MORGAN!” You yell from your place at the back of the house, knowing that from her spot on the sofa in front of paw patrol or whatever shit she’s watching, she’ll hear, “Get the fucking door!”

“Mummy told you not to say bad words, Y/N.” She shouts back, and you can practically hear the signature Stark smirk in her words, although it should be far too early for her to actually be making that face.

That’s one thing they got right with Morgan, though, at least she calls you by your actual name instead of fucking Sloane, even if Pepper does ‘accidentally’ slip up and call you by that awful legacy name from time to time when you really annoy her, say by breaking a vase or some china, or screaming at her using all of the profanities you can think of. She’s really regretting taking you in, now, because you’re simply that much of a handful that she had Happy and Rhodey actually build a quiet room for some respite. You’re still in the rebellious phase, and you don’t seem to be leaving it any time soon, although you have let the dye in your hair grow out and you haven't bleached it… yet, and some of your piercings have naturally closed over, although that was more so that Morgan wouldn’t continually take a metal detector to your face. 

Abrupt, your thoughts escape you, and you can’t catch the thread, because after multiple attempts of Morgan’s to click open the reinforced vibranium locks on the doors (Rhodey’s suggestion), and the shifting of a stool to allow her to climb to it, you hear a shriek and some mess of words that sound like ‘Peter’. But no, that's simply impossible. You’re imagining things in your annoyed state, knowing it would’ve been a lot faster and quieter if you just made your way over there yourself. 

“It’s for you!”

Now this peaks your attention. No one has been to see you in the whole time you’ve been here, nor have you ever gotten mail. No one comes to see you, so maybe your ears didn’t deceive you.

You leap up from your seat and begin charging to the door, running as quickly and carefully as you can over Morgan's toys, but you’re also careful to not aggravate your injury. One good thing that came from your time there - the only good thing - is that you were able to work with your dad's remaining technology and do intensive physio, resulting in your mobility improving tenfold, also meaning that now you can not only walk but kind of run without assistance. But that doesn’t matter as soon as you see the man standing in the doorway, a bunch of flowers in his hand, and an expression of pure delight on his puppy-like features. 

“Y-you can walk?” he blubs, his cheeks red with joy.

The flowers fall from his hands onto the deck, and your eyes fill with tears as your hands fly up to your mouth, only just containing your sobs. Your whole being is overcome with happiness like you’ve never felt before, and it seems like all of your depression since you left him has melted away, and a new you is born.

“You came back for me…” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, and in response, he draws his lips into a tight line to contain his smile, and nods his head at you, soft brown curls falling into his soft eyes.

“Why are you sad, Y/N?” Morgan asks, and tugs at your shirt, but you don’t even realise, because the sight of Peter coming towards you is all that you can see and feel, and you begin advancing towards him too, until you collide in a heated kiss. Everything just seems like a tangle of limbs, a clash of teeth, and a battle of tongues. You’re too wrapped up in the feel of him, the passion of the moment, the intimacy of the kiss, that you don’t notice that Peter’s already got you picked up with your whole body tied around him. He tastes utterly delectable, the same as before, and his tongue feels incredible as it sweeps your mouth.

“Morgan-” you pant, “Go find Uncle Happy in the yard, now.” When she doesn’t move, you open your eyes to glare at her, stunned and traumatised into silence with her mouth slightly agape. You can’t bear detaching from Peter’s lips for even a second, so your words are all rushed. “Morgan get out now, I can see him there, in the yard, go!”

The little squirt smiles wryly up at you, but does as she’s told, and scurries off into the mass of flowers and perfectly cut grass. Seeing her gone, you let out a long held breath and smile into Peter’s passionate kiss. All of the love floods back to you, and you feel whole once again. But before you can get too caught up in the sappiness, Peter is already blindly stumbling through the house and kicking the front door closed behind him. Your fingers in his hair, you guide him to the couch.

As he kisses you so tenderly, even in the heated moment, you finally understand what everything was for. Every trial and tribulation in your life was teaching you, helping build you up for this very moment, where it all makes sense.

Everything in life has been for a reason, and that reason is this very moment. The thought makes you smile, but nowhere near as much as Peter’s own smile does.

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: heey, so here is Part III, hope you all enjoy it! i'm thinking of starting a new story soon, once this is ended, probably focusing more on world building and Karl and reader relationship hehe

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord

Part III – The Hunt

Getting to know the factory turned out to be a fantastic experience. You had never seem so many different paraphernalia in your live, the closer you had ever got to that was when you were a child poking around your dad’s storeroom, but there were only some tools, agriculture products and inherited ornaments from your cabin family – these last ones were your absolute favourite.

Heisenberg’s factory, on the other hand, was full of interesting things, some of them you had no idea what were used for. You even found a suspicious “torture” room, but couldn’t dig into it, once he was nearby. Still, you found his journals narrating his experiments, his audio reports and some guide books on mechanics that had you intrigued for a long time while reading them. He was a madman, you were convinced, but at the same time, that secluded part of you was growing a little each day you explored his life.

Lord Heisenberg was nicer and quieter than you would imagine. He basically lived in his various offices across the factory, mostly he would be trying new mechanisms on bodies and seeing how they reacted with the Cadou, the strange parasite the villagers mentioned only on rare and veiled conversations. As far as it wasn’t you, or your family, lying cold on one of the stretchers, you didn’t care. As a matter of fact, you felt tempted to try some things with the gears yourself as you deepen your studies in his books.

At your first days there, you got worried you would have to share the bed with him, which would be much more proximity than you had ever had with another person. The man had already seen your half naked and that was enough. However, he didn’t sleep there with you and you wondered why, once he so enthusiastically mocked you about it when you arrived. Actually, you started doubting he ever slept at all.

You were still a bit scared, though, never knowing if he would play a prank on you, so you were very careful to avoid him for a while - that didn’t endure –, believing you should give him space to get used to your presence after the mood he got into after your reception.

He was disturbed, indeed. His work was getting closer to a crucial point that involved Mother Miranda. He musted be discreet, but it was proving to be a real trial with Soldats activating and running around as lost beasts. Also, having you around actually gave him a new problem.

Lord Heisenberg would walk around the factory looking for material, testing the Soldats and cursing a lot, some of these swearwords you didn’t even know, but started liking how he used them, almost cartoonish. It was never directed to you, of course. He acted like you weren’t there most of the time, in others, when he was more chilled, with less work to do, he asked “how is the mess at the wing, buttercup?” laughing at you blushing at his indiscreet platonic flirts.

You had to find your way around the factory. That place was a labyrinth and a map would come handy, so you drew it on some clean papers you found lying around, loving not to get lost anymore. You hadn’t been face-to-face to one of his creations yet, just saw them on the production lines on the overview of the factory and on some specific rooms. You also avoided it due to fear.

He told you where the wing to be cleaned was and you found it after an hour. It was so incredibly packed with mechanical parts that you could barely come inside to take a look. Huffing, you thought that he could solve that without moving a muscle. It made you mad, but also made you wonder what you were doing there. You cleaned it anyway, as it was your duty and used that waste to build some minor projects.

At the end of your expedient, your hands were orange because of the rusty irons you were moving all day long and you had little cuts here and there, but nothing really bad. As it was going, it wouldn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and could even decorate it for him, making it feel more like home to you too.

You were liking it there. Of course, it was dusty, grey, sometimes rusty and hot all the time, but it was also very different from everything. Once you said goodbye to the cabins, then to the Village and maybe being away from Miranda’s dominance made you feel lighter.

You found some red fabric lying around somewhere, appearing to be forgotten, made some nature sketches on blank papers and put yellow lights on the bedroom and on Karl’s soon-to-be new working room. It looked cosy. You hoped he would appreciate it when he met the reformed wing, until then, you would keep quiet not to bother him.

Though, shortly after you finished decorating the bedroom, an event destroyed your plans of avoiding Heisenberg. On your daily route to what you would now call your wing, you crossed the kitchen and found an overcoat-less Karl trying to prepare a sandwich. He had any chef’s nightmare happening in that place. There were blunt knives flying around, a metal cup chasing the kettle spilling hot coffee all over the floor as he tried to open a bottle of whiskey and, finally, hot coffee hit Heisenberg’s chest and he screamed and cursed like a sore animal.

“FUCK!” He thundered, his word echoing in the corridor where you stood.

You couldn’t ignore that scene even if you tried. You were getting tired of not talking to him, you lived together now and all your few friends were slowly becoming distant memories. You would be happy to hear his voice, something else than gears rumble, even if it was cursing your predecessors.

As a powerful person, he would try to use his powers to do simple things and do a real mess instead. You felt compelled to give him some support, maybe it was a part of your mother’s care for others that lived in you too. You entered the kitchen headstrong, holding a laugh at his misery looks. Now he was stroking his shirt with a cloth and only noticed you when you were getting around the island.

You didn’t know, however, he never “never noticed” you. He felt your presence at the corridor before you saw him and he felt ashamed of you seeing him failing at a stupid task, and so forth his reaction was to be boorish.

“What?” He asked in a rude tone.

“Just let me help.” You offered, placing your hand in the air between you two. It wasn’t really an offer, you were just being polite, you would help him one way or another, you would have your small talk, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. “Please.” You asked, making the sweeter voice you could.

He huffed and threw the wet cloth on the sink. You took another cloth from one of the drawers – you were getting used to the utensils’ places –, wet it a little with water and looked at him, your head slightly tilted to the right.

“What is it, kitten?” Heisenberg questioned, roughly playful then.

“It is your shirt.” You pointed.

“Yes, it is dirty. Weren’t you trying to help?” He started to lose patience.

“Yeah, I am. It is just… You will have to take it off.” You let it out unpretentiously, although in your mind you were revengeful.

“Oh.” He understood and immediately took it off with so much easiness you wondered how many times he did that when you were so uncertain of it at your first day.

You had never seem him shirtless. To be quite sincere, you hadn’t seen many shirtless men in your life. The Village was a very cold town, once it was deep into a forest in the mountains, so even in the summer there wasn’t a hot weather, so people tended to keep their clothes on. Because of this, when he took it off you instantly blushed at his scarred chest.

He has what you would call a dad body. It isn’t really sinewy, although still very strong with thick arms and defined muscles. He has some belly, which means he isn’t a skinny person, but he isn’t fat also. And maybe you took too long looking at him like that and feeling weird feelings you would think about later that night.

“You’re almost drooling there, buttercup.” He teased you and when you quickly, but gently, started cleaning his chest with the cloth, so you wouldn’t have to answer, he gave up a deliciously loud laugh.

You laughed with him, making him laugh even harder. You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked it, this casual connection between you two. The laugh died a gradual death and you started moving you hand on his chest, feeling its warmth below the cloth. You could almost swear his breathing was getting faster and you saw he was biting his lips, maybe because you were taking too long. You didn’t want to finish, but you both know there wasn’t much coffee on him anyway.

You put the cloth with the other one in the sink and as you watered them, you saw him going to get his shirt that had been laying on the island.

“No, no, no.” You said, taking it from his hands kind brusquely, making him confused. “I need to wash these.”

“I see.” He said, raising his hands to show he wouldn’t try again, as a peace offer that made you grin.

“I can finish your sandwich for you, it will only take a minute.” You added, embarrassed to be so bossy with him.

“I will be at my office.” He told you and left without looking back.

You thought he got mad at you because of the shirt situation. It made you sad, you started having a nice approach. To compensate you made him a really good sandwich with the meat and vegetables you found in the refrigerator. Searching for food there you considered asking him to go see the Duke and buy supplies, maybe even hunt, because you didn’t have enough provisions. Anyway, you also prepared the coffee, poured a glass of cowboy whisky – sipped one, two or three times yourself – and cleaned what was there to be cleaned. It took more than one minute, but less than teen.

You were heading to his office when you heard a muffled noise. It sounded guttural and made you shiver. Electricity running through your body, making you feel hopelessly exposed, only that countered by the alcohol it felt good. You stepped carefully as you got closer to the door. You considered not knocking, but the noise made you knock.

“Just…” He gasped. “Leave it at the door, please.” Heisenberg was painting, but he asking “please” was what made up your mind, that politeness wasn’t usual, so you did what he requested.

You wanted to be around him on that day, but chose to respect his privacy. You didn’t imagine that his mind was blowing with you, he desperately wanted to continue the kitchen talk, but couldn’t give himself the chance once he was so close to perfecting the Soldats.

To ease your thoughts, as you were no longer requested at the factory, you tested your stealth skills and slipped to the forest behind it, caring your bow and arrows determinedly.

You were familiar with that area as you have hunted all around the Village, thus, you knew where to go to find good preys. It was by the lake were the deer stopped to drink water. It was far from the factory entrance, but again, you knew exactly what you were doing. When approaching the lake, you climbed a tree and waited.

It didn’t take long until a lonely deer appeared, unsuspicious. It leaned its head so it could reach the water level and started drinking it. You positioned one arrow, held your breath and did the physics magic. The arrow nailed its left eye. It didn’t scream, it was over very quickly.

You climbed the tree down, came closer to the body and tied it with the rope you brough from the factory. Your way back wasn’t effortless, you were slower due to the extra weight and the lycans sensed its blood, their sounds were all around you. They wouldn’t hurt your, though, somehow, they knew you were with Heisenberg.

It was past four in the afternoon when you reached the factory, panting with the effort of bringing the deer. Heisenberg was poking around for something in his front yard. He noticed you just as you appeared in his peripherical vision. He walked towards you, with an intrigued expression that transformed into an impressed one when he saw the deer.

“Some gifts you have there, kitten, ain’t gonna lie.” He commented, squatting to take a good look at the animal. “How did you do that?” It was clear he didn’t mean to offend, quite the opposite, he was genuinely curious.

“A girl has her secrets.” You answered, when you finally stop panting, shrugging when internally you are fulfilled someone knew about you hunting and didn’t seem mad at you.

He wasn’t even angry you left the factory without his permission, which made you happier. He stood below you with the animal for a few seconds more, than got up on his feed, laid his hands on your shoulders, well, on your skin hunting jacket, and said “You are really something, kitten.”

You fell for his words. You never wanted to feel that dependant on someone’s appreciation for you, but with him it was lighter. Karl took the weight of the world off your shoulders by bringing you there and kind off supporting you even though you had only spent little more than a month together.

“Thank you, my lord.” You spoke.

“Stop it. Call me Karl.” He said roughly, but good hearted. “Now, do you know how to clean this deer?” Heisenberg asked.

Usually, Duke would do it for you, although you knew the theory, you hadn’t much practice.

“I was hoping you could help me with it, Karl.” You suggested, toasting him a malicious smile.

“For fuck’s sake.” But he cursed laughing.

He cleaned this table at the garage and disposed the deer there. You helped him doing the messy job, learning with him what you only saw the Duke doing. It wasn’t pretty, but you were comforted by his presence and obstinacy. He probably did it often as it showed, but didn’t bother to take it slower so he could teach you.

Heisenberg enjoyed that night more than you could imagine. He didn’t care for the Soldats, they could wait, it was nice being around you for a change, not running away from your hair, your smile, your presence. For the first time in his life, he actually had someone who wanted to be around him.

Later your prepared venison, demi-glace, potatoes, a fresh arugula salad and both of your enjoyed dinner at the kitchen island with bottles of dark beer. He was funny, he was tripping over words a little, due to the alcohol, but his stories, oh man… He was a real brat. You told him about the cabins and the hunting. He listened carefully, never judging you and laughed at your silly manners, at your etiquette and, over all, loved your cook.

He slept in the bed with you, tired, amused and drunk, he sunk in his dreams. You stayed up a bit longer, resisting your lazy eyes temptations just to appreciate his scent, it would smell like burned wood.

[lesbianlotties]

Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 4:

Sam really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was a hectic day for everyone but here. It was an accident, really. She just wanted a glass of water, but when she heard Deena and Kate arguing in the kitchen, she stopped before reaching the doorway, and couldn’t help but listen.

“Are you seriously not going?” Deena was saying.

“No, Deena,” Kate replied, in a tone that made it obvious it wasn’t the first time she said so. “I’ll only go to a funeral when I’m dead, thank you very much.”

“Maybe I should kill you then,” Deena grumbled. In the hallway, Sam fought back a smile at the grumpiness of the gardener. “He’s your platonic husband and you’re letting him down in the most fucking tragic day of his life, Kate.”

“He understands,” Kate snapped back at her. “Besides, we’ve let each other down before.”

--

Eavesdropping on teenagers feels even worse. But Sam can’t help herself, again. She just seems to be at the right place at the right time, and nobody hears her coming. She was just looking for Constance and Josh when she found them talking in the classroom in whispers. She worried they might have been planning something unwise, so she listened in for a moment.

“Do you think they can follow us?” Constance asked in a whisper.

“No, I don’t think it works like that,” Josh replied.

The girl hummed thoughtfully and then added, in a considerably more distressed tone, “Do you think they’ll try to stop us?”

“Shh! Constance!” Josh stopped her. “Let’s just… see what happens, okay? We’re in this together, right? All of us.”

Sam considered intervening, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what they were talking about. She could barely keep track of their changing moods or Constance’s name. In the end, she walked away, deciding to keep an eye out and studying them more closely when she had the chance.

--

Sam had tried her best, but she really had nothing else to do at the moment. It was strange, having a day mostly free from her responsibilities as au pair. Deena would be taking Josh and Constance with her to Simon’s mom’s funeral. A little lost in her thoughts without anything else to do while they all got ready, Sam took a seat near the bottom of the stairs, looking out at the gardens she could see through the open door. It started out as a particularly sunny day, not at all something you’d expect for a funeral.

The au pair was leaning against the railing of the stairs. A little behind her, under the safety and familiarity of the manor’s shadows, Harry Rooker stood perfectly still. His clothes hadn’t changed at all in all the decades he had been wandering those halls, even his bowtie was in still place. The same couldn’t be said about his face though. The passing of the years, one after another, had slowly washed away his features. His eyes were no longer there, his mouth was barely noticeable and his nose wouldn’t likely last long. The burn on the side of his face, which had hurt him so much during the war and cost him so much even after his return, was still there, stubbornly, almost mocking him. As well as his knife, always in his hand, always sharp. Never being useful anymore.

The sound of a heavy pair of boots coming down the stairs, as often, disturbed the peace of the foyer. Sam tried not to look too excited as she turned her head to look at Deena descend the stairs, but when she saw the gardener’s outfit she probably failed to hide her pleased reaction.

“Hi,” Sam gasped a little and stood up, “You look…”

“Like I remembered how to take a shower?” Deena smirked. She reached the bottom of the stairs and showed off her clothes, consisting of all black pants, shirt, and blazer that fit her perfectly, made her look a little too good for a funeral, if Sam had to give her honest opinion.

“Like a waiter,” Sam said, biting her lip to keep that honest opinion from spilling out.

“Hey! Didn’t know that side of you, Sunnyvale. Rude,” Deena replied, smiling the entire time. When her expression softened a little, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay staying here by yourself?”

“Yes, t’s okay. Besides, Kate’s here too.”

Deena made an unamused sound. “Sometimes it feels like she isn’t,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Before the silence could stretch for too long, she spoke up again. “Anyway, I, um, had to… be present in a funeral, not too long ago. It’s… I can’t, again. Not yet.”

As she spoke, Sam couldn’t look Deena in the eyes. Not when the only thing in her mind was Sunnyvale. Peter. Her mother. Peter. Twentyfive entitled children in a classroom. Peter. A heavy engagement ring and suffocating wedding dress. Peter.

But it didn’t start like that. It started with her father getting sick, her mother being cruel enough to divorce him on the spot to save herself from taking care of him, and Sam being already in Sunnyvale, thirty minutes away, when he finally died. It started with her mother wrapping her in her best dress, too old for her already, and dragging her to the neighbors house, because they were rich, and look at that handsome young boy, he already has his eyes on you! They were only eight. But then they were twelve, and Peter got in a fight for her and felt entitled to her attention ever since, and nobody ever told her she didn’t have to give him anything she didn’t want to. So when he demanded it, she gave him a kiss, a second date, the color of her prom dress so he could get a matching tie. She gave and she gave until she didn’t know what else he could take from her, but everyone made her feel like she still owed him. So she gave hiim a second chance when he first hit her, and she gave him her bags when he told her to move in with him, she gave him a third and fourth chance, and she gave him the answer he wanted when he offered her a wedding ring.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

In the blink of an eye, Sam was back in Shadyside Manor, with Deena’s gentle hands on her elbows, anchoring her to reality, and those warm brown eyes worriedly searching her face, not knowing what horrors they could find behind the walls Sam spent a lifetime building.

“Yes,” Sam blurted out. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Right,” Deena nodded and slowly stepped away from the au pair. “Well, I’m leaving now. Try to come up with something real to tell me when I return, okay?”

Sam suddenly couldn’t come up with any words so she nodded, smiled, and watched holding her breath as Deena walked away from her, not without glancing over her shoulder by the door.

--

Sam stood awkwardly in the middle of the chapel. She had made it too far to turn around now, but she didn’t dare move closer and interrupt Kate who appeared to be praying. Except, before Sam made up her mind about her next move, Kate spoke up without turning around.

“Are you just going to stand there like a ghost?”

“Sorry,” Sam blushed. “Uh, how did you know I was-”

“I have eyes on the back of my head, darling,” Kate replied with a smile and finally turned around.

“Am I interrupting you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Kate softened. “I’m not a funeral type of person. I deal with loss in my own way.” 

“I get it,” Sam nodded. She found the courage to continue walking closer to the other woman.

“If you ask me,” Kate continued, somewhat unprompted, “This is more for our own comfort.” She nodded her head to the side, indicating the five red little candles burning. “You have to be there for people while they’re still alive. Simon gave his entire life for his mother. I’ve been there with him for most of the journey, in ways that I know count so much more than missing out on one tragic goodbye party.”

Again, Sam nodded. She took a seat down on one of the pews close to Kate. She really didn’t want to think about the funerals in her own life. Her mother made sure they arrived late and left early for Sam's father’s funeral. And then a few months ago…

“You two are very close,” she blurted out. It was a statement, a question, and mostly just a way to get Kate to keep talking.

“Best friends since childhood,” Kate said and she wore one of the most genuine smiles Sam had seen on her. “We kissed once, and afterward I punched him in the face. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Which might be the best and worst part about our friendship.”

“What do you mean?”

This time Kate took her time before replying. Her smile was gone.

“Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to leave Shadyside and see the world. But there was nothing that could have convinced Simon to leave his mom. He missed a chance to work at a restaurant in Paris, I missed my chance to see the world, but we have each other. We have each other and ninety-nine percent of the time it feels like the right choice.”

The remaining one percent of the time hung in the air of the chapel so heavily it was almost palpable.

“What about now?” Sam asked, not without a good amount of hesitation.

The meaning of her question was obvious. Simon wasn’t tethered to Shadyside anymore. However, there was no answer from the housekeeper. Kate chuckled sadly, completely dismissing the idea of grabbing a bag of her best clothes and her best friend’s hand and moving away to Paris any day now. Instead, she stood up and threw the little box of matches for Sam to catch.

“What?” Why?” The au pair looked back and forth between the matches and Kate.

“Light a candle,” Kate replied. She noticed the confusion in Sam’s face, but the au pair, unknowingly, carried her heart, broken and hopeful at once, on her sleeve. “Dead people, regrets, protection, good luck,” Kate said while methodically fixing the wrinkles on her red skirt, checking her ponytail, and mindlessly passing her hand over the back of her neck. “Everything counts.”

Sam stayed silent. She watched Kate walk out of the chapel and then she moved toward the candles. She moved almost automatically, lighting up the first match, but then she couldn’t bring herself to actually light the candle. The small flame burned bright for a second, highlighting the sadness in Sam’s blue eyes, but she let it die before reaching for a candle. }

Eventually, Sam decided to light up a new match and light up a single candle at random. Not for dead people, and not for her attempts at forgetting about them, but for the time she had wasted trying to please people that did nothing but hurt her for so long.

On the way out of the chapel, Sam made the mistake of glancing at the windows. Of course he was still there. He would never leave her, would he? She had seen him angry at her more times than she could count, but never like that. That expression of outstanding disgust and fury was forever etched in Sam’s memory of him. He was just a shadow, he was pure darkness in the shape of a man she once knew. But Sam had to look away and walk as fast as she could away from him, fearing that any day now his image would definitely leave the restrained space of reflective surfaces and finally kill her, like she had killed him.

--

“Dinner… is served!” Simon announced with a flourish.

Simon and Deena dropped several bags on the kitchen table and they chuckled when everyone else eagerly jumped forward to look at the contents spilling on the table. 

“There’s nothing like an absurd amount of junk food to fix all your problems,” he smiled proudly at the scene in front of him. All the people closest to him with smiles on their faces, exchanging a warm meal and easy conversation. His smile turned just nostalgic enough, thinking about his mother, the woman who taught him that lesson. She used to fix all problems with food. She had special meals for every sickness, mended broken hearts with each person’s favorite food, and she celebrated every occasion with big feasts. So far, Simon couldn’t say she had ever failed.

Simon, Deena, Kate, Sam, Josh, and Constance, sat down at the table. They got started with their junk food feast. Everything was still hot, smelled amazing, and tasted even better. Behind Simon and the teenagers, stood Ruby Lane. She tilted her head one side and the other, observing the scene in front of her. Her slightly blurred expression showed confusion, then a hint of sadness, and finally settled in something surprisingly close to affection. Eating. Food. Good company. Friends. She distantly could remember the feeling of it all. The details had left her a while ago. But if she focused hard enough on the smiles of these strangers, she almost felt right at home, almost felt like she belonged with them, almost let herself believe that if she wanted to she could reach out, take a seat, enjoy a meal with them… Almost, almost but not quite.

At the table, conversation flowed easily. Everyone was enjoying the food, and the adults all had one or two beers with the meals, perhaps a little more. Despite the emotionally heavy day, the group was in a surprisingly good mood. A consequence of growing up in Shadyside, maybe. They were either the best or the worst at coping with loss. The trick was not knowing how to tell the difference between both extremes. 

Sam was a little concerned about the fact that the pair of teenagers looked so refreshed and so much like themselves after attending a funeral. Maybe they just needed the time away from the manor. She just hoped it would last.

While all of them discussed favorite meals and comfort food, Simon finally explained his choice of food for the day. “This is actually from the first place where I worked,” he confessed.

“Really?” Sam asked, leaning forward with a kind smile.

“Yeah. My mom got me the job,” he added. “She was the sweetest woman, but she could be scary as shit if she wanted to. She convinced them to give a part-time job to little old me. I was barely fifteen.”

“Tell her why you got fired,” Kate said, raising a playful eyebrow in his direction.

Simon rolled his eyes and picked up a couple of fries to throw in her direction. “For giving you free food you asshole!”

While all the others laughed, Kate gasped loudly and wore a nearly comically offended expression for a moment. It was her turn to roll her eyes and lean across Deena to look at Sam and explain, “This bitch throwing me food like a toddler? He got fired for being too talented for a food truck, basically.”

“Ah, whatever,” Simon laughed. He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair and pushed through his unexpected shyness to explain. “The food was good, but it was also too slow and expensive. Got me fired but got me noticed.” He stopped then, and tried to make it seem natural and not at all like he was holding back information. Which made Sam think about the missed opportunity across the ocean that Kate had mentioned earlier that day. “But!” Simon went on, with extra cheerfulness on his voice to hide who knows how many things anymore, “now I get to happily cook for all of you, ungrateful little shits that you are.”

“Hey!” Deena protested, stopped a second to swallow her food and continued. “I am grateful. Dude, I love your food. I survived eating this cheap shit almost exclusively for like a decade. I’m in heaven when you cook actual food.”

“Do you just love me for my food?” Simon pouted dramatically. 

Sam watched them banter with a smile. Before she could stop herself, she was joining the conversation. “This actually reminds me of my childhood in Shadyside,” she said, holding up a burger in her hand.

“What?” Kate smirked, “You don’t have these bad boys in Sunnyvale?”

Sam laughed along with everyone else, she was starting to feel just the slightest bit tipsy, and this time decided not to mention the fact that Kate hadn’t even taken a bite of her burger yet. However, she hadn’t managed to shake herself from the weird, nostalgic mood that had had a hold of her the entire day. One moment she was there, seated at the kitchen table in Shadyside Manor, and with the blink of an eye, she was back at an expensive Sunnyvale restaurant.

She had been more than a little tipsy back then, she had needed the courage in any way she could find it. During the meal, a hundred different memories of her mother’s cruel comments on her weight and eating habits passed through her mind. She didn’t push them away though, she focused on them, because it hadn’t been just her mother, and she needed to focus on that pain and resentment. Because seated across from her was Peter. Peter, who had joined her mother in criticizing her. Peter, who never once defended her from his own mother. Peter, who had hurt her emotionally and physically more than anybody else.

Peter, who refused to lose an argument, who didn’t know when to let it go, and would never let her go. They didn’t get to the altar, but since their first kiss, he had assumed only death would take her away from him. He didn’t consider he’d go first, he might have even dreamed of a second or third wife, and one or two times he had been close to being responsible for that sudden end. Instead, it was their anniversary, they were both drunk, Sam admitted more than she had meant to, he was yelling at her in the middle of the street, threatening to kill her, taking a step backward when she reached for him, and then there were the truck’s headlights…

“Oh, yeah,” Sam blurted out, and hoped they wouldn’t notice the way her voice was trembling. “But in Sunnyvale, we add a little caviar on top of the burgers.”

Sam was surprised to see everyone laugh at what she had considered a pretty lame joke. It was a beautiful sound. She didn’t think she’d ever been surrounded by the incredible number of five people that genuinely liked her for who she really was. Josh even choked a little on the food he had been chewing, and Simon slapped his back, maybe a little harder than necessary. It made Kate and Constance laugh even harder. Those were things that Sam noticed, but her focus was actually on the woman beside her. Deena had laughed with all of them, of course. But the soft smile she was directing at Sam was something completely different, something she couldn’t even compare to anything else she had ever experienced. 

When the conversation hit an inevitable lull, Constance was the first one to notice the way Simon’s mood dimmed, his shoulders slumped and he stopped eating, just fumbling with the papers on the table. There was a lot a person could say to a friend that just lost their mother, then there was what a moody teenager with an exceptionally tragic life could offer.

“My aunt was a shit cook,” Constance blurted out. “These burgers were all she got for me when my parents died. But I couldn’t eat it… I thought I would never eat again, which would be okay because that would kill me and I’d be reunited with…” She shrugged, and everyone else at the table listened to her intently, rendered speechless not just by the unexpected confession, but because of her expression, neutral without being insensitive, sincere without being very emotional. “But then,” Constance continued, adding the smallest smiles here and there. “It was like I could hear my mom yelling at me for not eating. Cindy Berman could be a pain in the ass in case you didn’t know. But that feeling… it was like she was right there with me, beautiful and annoying and never gone entirely.”

For a moment, nobody knew what to say. Simon, although his eyes were glassy, smiled brightly at her. “You do not act as if you’re listening to your mom,” he said.

“Hey! I ignored her when she was alive too, she gets it,” Constance rolled her eyes playfully. “But the point is I know that we have to keep eating, and keep living… for them. Don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do,” Simon agreed.

He took a deep breath to get a hold of his emotions and raised his beer bottle to the center of the table, where Kate, Deena, and Sam joined him in a toast for the living. Constance joined in enthusiastically with a can of soda, but Josh didn’t move a muscle.

“Hey, do we have some more beer?” Josh asked a moment later. “I could really use one.”

“Uh, no. Not at fifteen you can’t,” Deena replied immediately. She tensed on her seat.

The teenage boy rolled his eyes and focused on the au pair across the table from him. “Miss Fraser, do you think I could have a beer?” He asked with a sharp, charming smile that looked just a little off on the edges.

“I… agree with your sister, Josh,” Sam replied carefully. She didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but she was also responsible for the teenagers.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve gone without a real drink?!”

“I remember my first beer,” Kate interrupted him, reminiscing with an easy smile on her face. “It was my first time babysitting Constance, and then Christine thought it would be a good idea to give me a beer.”

“My mom hated beer,” Sam said. “She used to say one sip could mean I’ll end up in hell.” Then she took a hearty sip, thinking of her mother and the thousand suffocating rules she’d pressed upon Sam’s shoulders her entire life.

“Well,” Deena smirked, “You did end up in Shadyside so…”

While most of them laughed, Josh’s face contorted into an expression of deep frustration and rage until he didn’t look like himself anymore. “Why the hell am I being controlled by a bunch of dykes?!” He slammed his hand on the table furiously. 

But just as soon as the words left his mouth, Sam and Deena jumped out of their chairs. Deena was his sister, and maybe Sam was just the au pair, but while Deena was so angry that she couldn’t even get any words out, Sam got ahead of her.

“That language, and that attitude, and beyond unacceptable, Josh. You are going to your room right now. No discussion. Did you hear me?” Sam said, her voice firm, unwavering, and her stance perfectly commanding.

All eyes were on her, but she was staring straight at Josh. He didn’t budge, he was stronger than most teenagers Sam had ever worked with, but she was even stronger. She didn’t hesitate at all. She glanced quickly at Constance, and the girl, despite intensely rolling her eyes, stood up and walked toward Josh. She not-so-gently grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the chair. Slowly, and with Josh throwing threatening looks at Sam over his shoulder, they walked out of the kitchen. After excusing herself, Sam followed them. She didn’t look back to see the impressed looks her friends were exchanging, pleasantly surprised by that side of her.

--

“Hey, Sunnyvale,” Deena said as soon as she caught sight of Sam walking down the stairs of the manor to the foyer where she was waiting for her.

Sam reached the end of the stairs and noticed that Deena was wearing a jacket, and holding Sam’s own jacket in her hands. But when the au pair reached out to grab it, Deena pulled back.

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” Deena said. She was smiling, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. “You only get warmth in exchange for information.” Her words made the au pair chuckle, and Deena instantly felt herself relax a little. “How did it go with my asshole brother?” She finally asked.

“Um, it was fine, I think,” Sam replied. “He… Well, I think he’s embarrassed. He probably regrets it a lot. He’s acting almost as if he doesn’t even remember what he said.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Deena frowned. She felt pretty embarrassed about the entire incident, and she was so not looking forward to having that conversation with Josh, who apparently had turned into some kind of monster in the place of her sweet younger brother. “I’m sorry about it.”

Sam shrugged and attempted a smile. “If it helps, I think he really listened when I explained that we all just want what’s best for him, and having that makes him luckier than most of us.”

The gardener nodded thoughtfully. “I agree with you there,” she said as she held open Sam’s jacket to help her put it on. Deena was careful, and her hands were confident, but at the same time, she barely touched Sam’s body as she helped her. The only thing she couldn’t help herself from doing was standing perhaps a little closer than necessary. Enough to feel her heart skip a beat when Sam’s blonde hair brushed her cheek, and the smell of some sweet-scented shampoo filled her senses. “But also, how depressing is that for us?” Deena said, stepping back from Sam. The au pair laughed and turned around to stare a Deena, who offered her a hand and said, “Come on, let’s go be depressing outside for a change.”

[stradlingmrstradlin]

So I enjoy writing and I this is the first story that I wrote with the intent of being posted. Constructive criticism is always welcome ♥️

Here's the story

Steven x Duff

Reader x Izzy

(No warnings, maybe swearwords if that counts, also I don't promote underage drinking)

I think I managed to stay gender-neutral

Words: 2794

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You were on a road trip with the guys, how did you end up here? Oh well, you've known the guys for a few years as you were good friends with Steven since you were kids, but you had a falling out because he moved around quite a lot and your family did too.

When you were 14 your family moved to Seattle and stayed there for 4 years. In those years you met a blond-haired dude whose name was Michael or as you and a few other people called him, Duff. You and Duff met at a corner store when you were 15 and tried to steal a bottle of vodka. Duff was also lurking around the alcohol section, also probably trying to steal some alcoholic beverage.

But he was, according to the store manager, a suspicious punk guy...so he got kicked out before even getting his hands on anything. You felt bad for him so after sliding a bottle in the inside pocket of your denim jacket and throwing a wink and a charming smile towards the cashier you walked out.

So there you were at eighteen having to say goodbye to Duff because your family was moving away... again but now to Ireland. You had a huge argument with your family about always moving and you losing all of your friends because of them so you made a decision, to run away. Ok, I know that's a stupid idea because how the fuck will you survive on your own?

Your family was well off so you decided to take a bit of money with you, they probably wouldn't even notice.

You lived in quite a few places after that, from the back alley of the theater to Duff's place, his family loved you so it was ok. When Duff decided to move to LA to pursue his dream of being in a band you of course followed him.

You moved into a small one-room apartment together, but it was great. Living with Duff is fun. But he always moved stuff on the top shelf to mess with you, and also money was tight. You guys both worked a lot but it was alright.

He joined a few bands and played a few gigs in shitty bars but none of them worked out. You played guitar so you tried but it was the same with you, never being able to keep a band together for more than a month. Also being a girl didn't help, because many bands thought that it'll ruin their image if a girl is in the band.

Eventually, he put an ad in the paper looking for a band and that's how he met the other guys. You were super surprised to see Steven there but also happy to see him. Also, you remembered Slash from meeting him with Steven maybe a couple of times. The only new people were the two boys, who, as you later found out were from Indiana. The one who looked a bit like Johnny Thunders was hot, but you ignored that fact for now.

The first thing you noticed between your two blond friends was a bit of jealousy, at first you thought maybe they liked you and were jealous of each other, but after a while, even before they knew it, you caught onto the real reason. They didn't like you, at least not romantically, they liked each other. But for about four years they didn't act in their feelings...(later on about that)

Eventually, in 1985 they formed Guns N Roses. The guys liked you, and Axl tried to fuck you, but after a big smack on the head and an angry talking to by Duff he quickly forgot that idea.

So now in 1988 here you were sitting in the back of a van, that Izzy was driving because he was the only sober one...today. Tomorrow probably you'll have to drive.

Your pov.

We were in the car for about twenty minutes and everything was calm...for now. Led Zeppelin was coming from the radio and Axl was softly singing along, in the front seat and Izzy was driving. Duff sipping something from a bottle, probably something alcoholic, and slowly falling asleep and leaning on Steven's shoulder. Steve was smiling per usual, but if possible his smile got even bigger when Duff's head landed on his shoulder. But as all good things come to an end, the comfortable silence got broken.

"I have to pee!" Steven suddenly yelled out, causing Duff to lift his head off of Steven's shoulder and look around in confusion. "The fuck is going on?"

Axl just grumbled "Steven is a fucking baby and can't go and use the toilet before road trips...no he has to use them when we are in the middle of a fucking highways"

Slash snorted at Axl's response but didn't say anything as he didn't want to get into this argument, surprising.

Can't the guys stay still for one second?

"Izzy, can you please stop the car at the next rest stop?" I asked, as kindly as possible not wanting to further upset Rosie and listen to him throwing a temper tantrum for the next hour or so, he's annoying sometimes.

Anyways we stopped at the next stop, and Steven almost ran to the restroom. I switched places with Axl because he was tired and wanted to sit in the back, so he could stretch out a bit. Now Axl was sitting next to Slash, and Steven came back jumping in next to Duff. We're on the road again.

"Can I switch the music?" Izzy looked at me with almost puppy dog eyes, well I didn't think that was possible.

"Of course, what do you have in mind?"I replied almost laughing because of the face he was making

"Maybe Hanoi Rocks?" He again looked at me with the same stupid face.

"Fine, just stop making that face because I'll probably die from laughter" At this point, I just straight up burst out laughing and he just threw a cute lil smile my way. I was super proud of myself because I made THE Izzy Stradlin laugh.

A little background on me and Izzy. When we first met I ignored that he was hot because I didn't want to mess anything up for Duff with the band, but in the next two years that feeling grew from "oh, he's hot" to "I want to fuck him". No, we never fucked, but at a party in 87' we had a really hot make-out session which was sadly ended by a drunk Slash passing out on top of me...that was a wild party. There were no awkward feelings between us but we never took it further either. We sometimes cuddled and kissed when we needed human contact but nothing else. I always wanted more, but Izzy...Izzy is a mysterious guy, hard to figure out, the only person who somewhat is able to figure him out is Axl...but you don't go to Axl asking for advice, because Axl's advice is usually bad advice.

..My thoughts were interrupted by the opening cords for Don't You Ever Leave Me, which's one of my favorite songs. Izzy glanced at me and seconds later we were quietly singing because we didn't want to disturb our four friends who were asleep in the back. Axl and Slash were leaning on each other and Axl's face was barely visible because of Slash's hair. Duff was leaning on a window and Steve was cuddled up to him.

As I was looking at my friends when Iz asked me a question "When do you think they'll realize that they like each other because you have to be an idiot to not realize it, I mean Steven always smiles around Duff, and Duff is so cuddly with steven?" Oh boy, the problem was, that our friends were indeed stupid, at least on the topic of love. "I don't know Iz, they are after all a bit ignorant when it comes to love" As I said this I saw something in Izzy's face change, but I couldn't identify it because it was gone pretty soon. After that we didn't talk much, only glancing at each other a few times but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything, we just didn't have anything else to say out loud.

However, my thoughts were really loud... Ignorant with love? That sounds like us, maybe after all Duff and Stevie weren't the only stupid ones.

...It was around 6 pm when we got to our destination, a fairly large cabin up in the hills, between a shit ton of trees. Nice, finally we can rest without reporters, fans, and annoying paparazzi asking about the private life of the guys.

Everyone had their own room as nobody really wanted to share, we specifically looked for a cabin with 6 rooms, we love each other but sharing a room is annoying. In the beginning, when we didn't have much I shared rooms with probably all of the guys.

Axl is an annoying little fucker, he kicked me in his dream a lot of times, my back hurt a lot after. Slash is nice, he let me have my own space on the small bed we slept on and didn't bother me, well he accidentally woke me up when he fell off the bed, but that sucks for him, not me. Steven and Duff both love cuddles, Steven almost suffocated me once but other than that it's nice sleeping next to them. Izzy...He doesn't hug you or cuddle up to you when you're going to sleep but somehow you always wake up tangled together.

After we brought up our luggage to our assigned rooms Slash had the awesome idea to watch a film. Steven wanted to watch something funny but Axl quickly told him to fuck off.

"Axl, that's very rude" Duff quickly came to the help of Steven. "Yeah, well I ain't watching some shitty comedy, that's for pussies" ..Axl is an asshole sometimes

Slash had enough of arguing and just put on a horror movie and told everyone to shut up and watch the movie.

Halfway through, Steven was cuddled up to Duff, hiding in his chest.

Axl laughed every time someone died, and Slash always shushed him.

Outside pov.

As the movie went on Steven was buried under his hair, two blankets, and most importantly to him, in Duff's arms. How can they be so stupid? Not noticing something that's there?

But they weren't the only stupid ones, no there was a black-haired boy, and you. Also stupid... too stupid in love to notice what's there.

After the movie ended you made food for the guys. Duff decided to help, as the others were pretty incapable of cooking or didn't want to help.

Your pov.

"You know y/n you're blind for not noticing how Izzy looks at you." Duff stated bluntly. "Well McKagan then you're pretty blind for not noticing how Steven looks at you"

"What do you mean?" He asked with...hope? His eyes got wider and you could hear his voice shake a bit.

"Duff, are you serious? Steven likes you, he always tries to be close to you, looks at all the groupies you fuck with so much anger in his eyes, I never thought he could be so angry. And don't think I don't see you staring at him all day" I said with a sweet smile on my face.

"I don't get it y/n..he..he likes me?"

"Yes Duff, he does, he really does, so please don't mess this up, promise me you'll talk to him while we're here"

I really hope he'll talk to him because it's probably eating them up from the inside to keep these feelings locked away.

"But! Y/n, you should talk to Izzy too, you have something between the two of you" Duff looked at me with pleading eyes

"Duff, things are complicated, we.... well, we know about each other's feelings but, I don't know, I guess we're just too afraid to fuck it up"

I don't know about his feelings, to be honest, but I'm definitely scared to fuck up because I really like him. For a time I never thought I'd be able to love someone, and I know that's a strong word to use, but when he came along, stuff changed.

By the time we were done cooking the guys were all hungry and basically ran to the kitchen, I was really conflicted inside from our conversation with Duff. Should I mention it to Iz? Probably should. Whatever, I'll think about it later.

Night came around and everyone retreated to their own rooms to sleep, or in my case think.

Outside pov.

Slash and Axl were fast asleep in their rooms, but the others weren't.

Duff was sitting in the kitchen, head in his hands muttering to himself about being a coward and stupid. Steven however noticed someone downstairs and when he saw Duff and what he was muttering to himself he got sad. How could this perfect human being think that he's stupid? He tiptoed behind him and pulled Duff in his arms from behind. Duff was sitting so the back of his head was pressed into stevens chest. At first, Duff was scared but as soon as he smelled the familiar and calming scent of Steven he instantly felt comfortable, like he was at home. Steven turned Duff around and carefully put his fingers under the taller man's chin and leaned down to press a love-filled kiss onto his lips. At this moment both of them understood everything without words. Duff stood up hugging Steven and lifting him up to take him to his room. They didn't do anything else besides cuddling and a lot of kisses, but both of them felt safe and eventually, they fell asleep with Duff on his back pulling Steven close to him, almost on top of him. This is how they'll be found when you walked into Duff's room in the morning to tell him something.

What was that something?

Well after a lot of thinking you got up and went to Izzy's room. It's now or never you though.

Your pov.

My fingers softly collided with the wooden door and a rustling noise inside told me that Izzy heard it. This seemed like a really bad idea all of a sudden. Well, can't do anything about it now.

A soft "Who's there" could be heard from inside the room "Just me, can we talk?" I replied really quietly wondering if he heard me.  "Yeah, come in"

"Iz, look I'm going to tell you something, ok? Please don't interrupt me."

"Alright"

"So you know when we met, I immediately found you extremely hot. Well, those feelings grew a lot since then, and when we kissed at the party, it just, felt so...right? I know you'll probably tell me that you were just drunk all of the times you kissed me, or just felt lonely. But Iz, I like you, a lot." Silence, that's all, he said nothing. Just staring at me with his signature poker face.

"I knew it, sorry for disturbing  you, I'll just go now, forget it please!"

As I turned to walk away he grabbed my arms and pulled me back into a hug that soon turned into a kiss. When I opened my eyes again we were cuddling on his bed. This is where I felt home, felt alright, in his arms.

"I'm sorry for not responding love, it was just shocking to hear that you liked me. I thought you kissed me all those times just to anger Duff or Axl. I guess I just never thought you'd want to be with a junkie " Izzy whispered looking down at his arms sadly

"You thought wrong Iz, I don't give a fuck about what you do, well yes I don't like you doing drugs, but also you can get over that and to me you are perfect" 

"Maybe it's too soon to say, but I love you y/n, I really do."

"I love you too Iz"

Outside pov.

Maybe they weren't so stupid after all, just scared of their feelings. The two blond boys, who understood each other without words. Izzy and you, on the other hand, needed words to understand each other fully.

But what matters is that in the end, everything was alright.

[jesslockwood]

olive | chapter one

pairing: actor!Tom Holland x actor!reader

words: 3.5k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and smut (in between the ***)

a/n: special thanks for @stuckonspidey for helping me not only start a kinda guideline for this story, but go over the beginning of this chapter, go check out Lilly’s works!

I also am taking name suggestions for one of the characters (little miss diva celebrity personal) as im horrid at coming up with names and also want to involve you! (That’s why she don’t have a name in this yet lol) so send me an ask with your suggestions!

series masterlist

You couldn’t believe it. How could it even be comprehended of what was going on when it felt like a dream? 

bro, you’re living every Instagram jealous fangirl’s dream right now…

Man, you couldn’t even imagine the backlash you’d be getting after this once everyone knew. 

Let’s hope they never find out.

Maybe this whole ordeal should be explained...

You had been at an after-party for the first big movie you did, well it was a featuring role, that the character literally had a sex scene with Sebastian Stan- yeah you know what you’re thinking, he’s a literal Greek god heaven-sent being- we all know.

Anyways me being me found him way too unattainable- God all those marvel actors and actresses were-, especially after the mishap of seeing his butt naked self before the scene, and him telling you it was fine because you were like his “little sister”. Either way, he was a no go, and you kinda wanted to find someone to take home. you hadn’t been laid in a while, and after seeing Sebastian naked you kinda needed relief. 

you were looking for someone more in your league scanning the room, until Seb decided to bombard you at the bar, with probably another one of his actor friends he wanted to introduce you to. 

Yeah, heh… I know how this sounds, but you two actually became pretty close on set, as the lead to his opposite, was a total snob, and Seb couldn’t stand her so you’d do a spot-on impression of her while roasting her, and Seb and you got along pretty well because of that. You’re probably questioning: why Seb? Of all people why would a famous person like him get along with a weirdo like me? 

Boy, do I look like I know?

in all your years it would still probably be a mystery till you died. 

Throughout the night Seb had been introducing you to all his friends and helping you “network” even though they all knew you sucked. That still didn’t stop you from having a small heart attack every time it was an actor you admire.

This time maybe was a little different because you had downed some drinks, and was a little more… bodacious? That’s probably the worst description you could come up with but it is what it is... anyways it was the only way you could get through the night without completely dying of being in front of literal heaven-sent beings.

“Hey Y/n! you’d like you to meet one of my pals!” Sebastian yelled over the music, cutting through people to get to me.

you were sitting at the bar just getting another martini with olives. Before taking a sip you saw him. Holy guacamole! He was definitely out of your league, but alas, he was trailing Sebastian, coming over to you, with you almost doing a spit take. you knew who he was, but man, was he ever hotter in person! pictures did not do his beauty justice.

“Hey, Sebby, who’s the next victim you’re introducing to moi?” you ask, stirring your drink with the olives. 

Seb shook his head at you, with a smirk on his face

“This is Tom, and Tom this is the infamous Y/n.” you definitely rolled your eyes at that one.

“It’s a Pleasure.” He says all gentleman-like.

Just as Sebastian is about to speak, none other than the stuck up lead of the movie calls over to him.

“Sebastian, they're taking group photos of the main character’s with Drake Doremus, our director.” 

You could tell Sebastian refrained from rolling his eyes at the way she was smirking at you.

 “Sorry Tom! Y/n and I have to go-”

“Uh, Sebastian, they want the main cast. No extras.” she snarkily snaps.

“She’s not an extra she’s a featuring role and y/n-”

“I’m fine here entertaining Tom. Besides I’m all photoed out.” you cut him off quickly trying to deescalate the situation before Seb snapped on her causing a scene for all the hungry photographers to eat up.

“See? She doesn’t want to get in the way of our spotlight. I’ll meet you over there.” she blows a kiss at Sebastian and walks over to our director.

“Are you sure about this y/n? Because you know Drake would be fine with it, and she has no say over it anyways and-”

“I’m fine, and anyways, it would be rude to leave your friend here when you just introduced us.” you comforted giving the most genuine smile you can.

He dramatically sighs, raising his arms in surrender,  “Well if she ends up in the pool, it’s not my fault.” 

You laugh and wave him off before turning your attention to the arachnid superhero sitting beside you now at the bar. You sit in silence for a bit, admiring his freckles and eyes before speaking up.

“I’m sorry about all of that she can sometimes be such a-”

“-Bitch?”

“I was going to say Diva but that works too” you giggle as he starts to laugh with you.

“So Mister Spider-man, what made you come over here to be introduced to me?”

“I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t know anything about you till today, and seeing you act in this movie, I really am a fan of yours. Your acting ability in just this one movie blew me away!” He says intently, gazing into my eyes.

“You’re just saying that because I have a sex scene in the movie. It’s also probably just because of Sebastian’s acting. Or maybe you were turned on. ” you joke winking at him as you turn towards the bar, almost finishing your drink for the second time

He laughs, with a sly smirk on his face, “maybe.”

Before you can respond Sebastian interrupts.

“Hey, sorry I took so long, Miss Diva needed her ‘best angles’”

You internally groan. You just got cock blocked by the one you wanted before this whole ordeal.

“Well, I think I’m going to head out. We’re still on for breakfast tomorrow right?” Tom says, getting up abruptly.

“Yeah, Unless Y/n wants to bail on breakfast then we're still on, Then golf which Y/n will definitely bail on.” Sebastian jokes.

You were almost speechless, Seb said you’d meet some of his closest friends at the big brunch tomorrow. At least you’d be seeing him tomorrow. Maybe Sebastian set this all up? Either way, you weren’t turning down the opportunity.

“Well, uh I better get back to my hotel as well. We need to get up bright and early, and you know I need my sleep.” you mention, before downing the rest of your drink- very unladylike- and popping the olives into your mouth cringing a bit while eating them.

You hated olives, but it felt like such a waste to not eat them. You may have been in ‘high society’ but you still knew how rude it would have been, at least in your head it was.

“Party poopers. I’m gonna go say my goodbyes. Don’t wait for me.” Sebastian turns away going towards a group of his friends.

“I have a car coming, I can drop you off?”

“Oh, uh- are you sure? I don’t want to be a burde-”

“You’re not at all! Great company so far if you ask me,” he comments so… gentleman like.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, and Once you got up and going, with Tom trailing behind you, you had to dodge a couple of waiters, apologizing every time, before really bumping into a waiter, who accidentally pushes Miss Diva, who wobbles before falling into the pool.

You stand there in shock almost watching as she, in slow motion falls into the pool, screaming on the way down. 

As soon as she emerges, she looks dead eyes at you, with looks that could literally, and probably would kill you.

Everyone falls silent before Sebastian, from across the pool breaks out into a fit of laughter and yells for you to “run”. Everyone who worked in the film and even the waiter starts to laugh along. Drake, your director takes out his phone before snapping a few photos. 

“AH! I‘m gonna kill you Y/n!” she screams at you before trying to swim to the ladder of the pool.

“Here,” Tom says before handing a hefty tip to the waiter before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the exit, “C’mon Y/n!”

The only thing that ran through your mind was “Holy shit. I’m dead now.”

Tom kept dragging you, to the entrance, through the paparazzi, and into the car, which mind you, the car was really nice, almost tumbling onto him.

“I’m a dead man now” you chanted a couple of times, before Tom started laughing really obnoxiously.

“Dude! You think me being six feet under is funny?!” ,You try not to giggle along to the now almost intoxicating sound, before hearing a pinging of his phone.

“Y/n, you’ll be trending for being Hollywood's hero!” He says before checking his device, “Trust me when I say she has no fanbase, at least won’t after this video Sebastian just sent me.”

“What?” you say stunned, before Tom shows you the video.

“That Fucking Bitch Y/n! You All saw that?! Y/n pushed me in purposely! She’s only out to get me, the talent of the movie! Talentless little bit-”

Sebastain cuts in the video “Yeah we’ve all heard it, you think you’re so much better than Y/n, Blah, Blah, Blah! You’ve treated her like shit from day one, and all she’s ever been was kind to you! I think karma is finally getting to you!”

Then your director steps in, “Well, I have news, we’re doing another movie, but in this time, Y/n has been bumped to lead role! I’m not so sure where your contract lies anymore though... Maybe it's just floating around in the water like your louboutins!”

Everyone cheers in applause in the video, chanting your name before it ends.

“What?! No, no, no! I don't deserve this because of a faulty point! She doesn't deserve this either! I know she's mean but to steal away from her talent and for someone to post that video?! She doesn't deserve that!” 

You started to freak out. Not only would she murder you if she had the chance, but no one deserved, not even she deserved the worst of what was going to come from the backlash from that video.

“Please tell me no one posted it!” you ask frantically.

“No, not yet, I’ll tell Seb not to, but I don’t think he can stop all the people who videotaped it.” He almost cringes, looking guilty.

“It’s fine I’ll just tweet something in the morning.” you sigh covering your face before telling tom where your hotel was.

It was almost upsetting, you felt like a second choice because of a bad apple in the batch, and you were the next.

“Hey Y/n? I know we don’t know each other well, but even though she might be booted down, or even off the next movie, your talent is real, and it doesn't take away from what you can do. From what I got from you already is that you're beautiful inside and out, as cheesy as it sounds.”

What the fuck. He was a fucking sweetheart. Let’s hope the fucking part litterally.

“Thanks Tom.”

You sit in an almost comfortable silence, all the way till you get to your hotel.

Once stepping out, Tom speaks up “Goodnight Y/n.”

“Dream of me Tom.” you wink before heading up to think of the game plan for tomorrow.

Once you got into bed, you couldn’t help but think of him. 

Why did he have to be so nice? Like god, did sweet guys ever make you horny.

Oh shit. Tom Freaking Holland made you this way.

Lets just say, you really did dream of him, probably because you thought of him while- well you know before falling asleep.

***

“Tommy!” you moaned loudly, as he went down on you, licking stripes from the base of your pussy to your clit.

He moaned onto your sensitive clit, sending vibrations all the way up your body, and especially to your core.

You could feel yourself getting close. His iron (man™️) grip on your thighs had you wishing it would never end and then-

***

Your obnoxious ringtone you had for Sebastian went off abruptly waking you up. You had set it to a fucked up sounding avengers theme song. 

“What the Fu-”

“Y/n uh, apparently there's a shit ton of paparazzi at your hotel right now… do you still want to go to the brunch?

You pause, “What? The Fuck?” you continue to look outside your window and sure enough, there's a hoard of them outside.

Greaaaaaat…

You really weren't sure about going, until you got a call from an unknown number. 

“Uh I’m getting another call gimme a sec-” you end the call with seb before answering the mystery person.

“Hey Y/n it’s me, Tom, Im uh almost in the back alley of your hotel waiting for you, I mean, only if you want to come, you were on my way anyways so i thought-”

“Hey Tom,uh yeah- okay, I’ll be down in twenty?” You say rushing around trying to find your suitcase.

“Okay, I’ll uh, tell Seb we’re coming soon” 

Tom hangs up after you say goodbye, and couldn't help the grin that reached his face being almost smacked back into reality by his brother, Harry and best friend, Harrison, goofing off.

“You div! You almost ruined my hair!” Harrison whines, as Harry rolls his eyes.

You, on the other hand, were rushing around taking a Guinness world record shower, before drying your hair, putting on minimal face shit, because thanks to Tom you didn't have time, and putting on an outfit that made you feel super cute and ready for golfing, well, watching it.

You weren’t much of a sport player, minus the competitive side that came out as soon as anyone challenged you. Then suddenly, you were an allstar (by smash mouth p.s fuck smash mouth) at whatever came your way.

Lets just hope you had this in the bag if someone challenged you. 

Your phone buzzed and you jumped, before quickly answering the texts you had gotten.

‘Are you coming?’

‘Yes seb im coming soon ;)’

‘Hey y/n it’s tom were here when your ready :)’

‘Wrong “you’re” but im coming lol ;)’

As you made your way down, Tom kept fiddling in his seat, trying to relax yet impress you. He just had to get over her, and you were the perfect solution for that. He didn't want to use you or anything, just have some casual fun that will help him move on.

As soon as you come into sight, of course looking both ways of the alley because who knows who's lurking, or going to hit you like Regina George, Tom couldn't help but almost drool in admiring you. You had your gorgeous legs on display, almost gleaming in the sunlight starting to peek through the alley, and your hair, looking almost effortless in your hairstyle, that took you like, five minutes to do. 

 As soon as you got into the car, Tom was snapped out of his daze, quickly trying to catch himself before being caught.

“Hey Y/n! You remember Harry? And this is Harrison. Harrison, Y/n-”

“Y/n I’m a really big fan! Maybe not as big as Tom’s di-” 

“Mate! Shut up!” Harry jabs Harrison in the side. You couldn't help but laugh at the interaction.

“Y/n i’m sorry about these divs.” he glares at them red in the face which makes you laugh even harder.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it from my catty family.”

“Oi! We’re not catty!” Harry says before Harrison gives him a wet willy in the ear.

“Haz!-”

And that's when you started to block out their fighting to focus on Tom.

“So uh, how many people will be at this? Sebastian totally didn't tell me for legal purposes of marvel-people-are-coming-so-don’t-tell-y/n-or-else-she’ll-freak-out.” You joke before earning a snort from Tom.

“Uh well, if you really want to know, the people I know are coming are Anthony Mackie, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson- you should close your mouth love, don't want any flies in there.”

You couldn't help but have your jaw slacked, and mouth hanging open. These were people you only had ever dreamed of meeting. You had to focus on what you wanted though. Tom was the priority, but damn were you going to freak out on the inside.

“That’s not the only thing you’re worried about going into my mouth? Right?” You joke, definitely meaning a sexual innuendo, but with a cover-up.

Now Tom’s the one with the open mouth.

“Damn bro!” 

“Oh my God!”

A chorus of reactions come through from Harrison and Harry, only leading you to say,

“Well? Don’t you have a frog in yours?” 

He tries to brush it off with laughter, though you could see his red face. He only hoped he didn’t have an even more noticeable way of telling he was turned on by that.

As the driver stopped, you realized you were at the restaurant, and man, was it ever a fancy and probably extorting you of all your life savings one too.

Tom almost rushed out of that vehicle, getting hotter than he should have been with the air conditioner blasting, if you were to ask, he’d blame it on the weather (we all know it’s not the weather).

You got out next, covering your face with your hand to block out some of the sun, and crossed your arm over to hold it steady, which may or may not have slightly squished your boobs together, making Tom’s mouth salivate. Man, was he ever screwed today, maybe literally as well.

As soon as he hurried into the restaurant, with you following closely behind, dogging more paparazzi, Tom goes to the front and asks where “Mr. Stan's table” is directed at the hostess. As soon as she saw Tom she looked behind to see you, which she definitely recognized the both of you, and that was pretty surprising, as you've never been recognized, other than hanging out with Sebastian, due to the movie.

“Right this way sir.” the hostess says professionally, leading you to your demise.

You were holding your breath. There were so many of them, all at once that you admired, it was going to be a difficult task. You could barely handle meeting sebastian stan, but all of your favorite celebs at once? 

oof

Once you got to the table hidden away in the corner, everyone said a chorus of greetings to Tom and friends and you.

You swallowed hard, only mustering out a small wave, before Tom pulled out a chair for you, (his momma taught him to be a gentleman) and you slid in whispering a small thank you.

Tom sat beside you to your left, with Harrison and Harry on your right. Sebastian was sitting right across from you, alongside Anthony Mackie, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, Chris Hemsworth, and Elizabeth Olsen surrounding the rest of the table.

“Hey everyone, so this is infamous Y/n, as you've probably seen the film or, the viral video, either way, this is her.”

“Hey! Y/n Seb here has told us so many stories about you, it’s like we already know you! You're a fan right? So who’s your favorite?”

You try to get words out but they don't seem to come. Tom notices and barges into the conversation,  “It’s obviously spider-man, ‘cause i'm so her type.” Tom mentions, in a cocky yet sarcastic tone, which started a spark for you to say something.

“And apparently I'm sitting beside a div? If that's the right word you use for a blubbering idiot.” you retort, re-using the words of his own. That got you a bunch of responses of “burns” “ohs!” and laughter.

It was almost as if the tips of Tom's ears were red in embarrassment with him still laughing along. You couldn't help but laugh as well at the sight.

During the rest of the course of breakfast, you had actually been vocal and had become quite fond of the people you now could say you knew, in one brunch. You especially loved the banter between Anthony, Seb and Tom, whereas you talked mostly to Scarlett and Lizzie, as she told you to call her, and Jeremy about projects they had done, and were looking for in their next ones.

Soon you had all had finished breakfast and had gotten the checks, with your eyes almost bulging out of your head at the price. 

Tom whispered into your ear, “I’ll pay, don't want your kidneys sold for this meal. Besides, I have to beat Seb in some way today.” he winks at you.

Your face feels slightly warm. 

Why did he have to be so nice?

“Well we should go to the course now everyone, I know Y/n’s out of playing so she can go to the pool, cause she apparently sucks at golf even though she's never tried it.” Sebastian taunts you. 

“Oh screw you Seb, I can totally do it, maybe, probably not but i'll try-”

“It’s nice to see some A list actors eat here too.” 

oh shit. It was her. 

[naerysthelonesome]

Before I Go

A Jeyna fic no one asked for.

Listened to folklore again and was cursed with feelings. I’m sorry.

Please, picture me in the trees I hit my peak at seven Feet in the swing over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Reyna, Jason had found in the two years he’d known her, did not tell people things about herself. And she sure as hell did not talk about her childhood. So he was surprised and more than a little gratified when she’d decided to tell him about her life in San Juan.

He couldn’t stop thinking of her now, as a happy little girl with untidy braids and a bright smile, strolling the cobbled streets with her big sister. Dancing around in the dappled shadows of the banana trees as the salty breeze blew past.

She’d told him of how she’d tried to catch a Coqui frog once, but had failed spectacularly. She gotten herself scratched up and muddied, and ripped all her clothes. Her older sister, she’d said, could be scary when she was mad, and Hylla had been infuriated at the state of her when she got back from the field. She spoke of that summer like it had been the best one of her life.

He couldn’t begin to make sense of how he felt about Reyna, but knew without a doubt that he liked the idea of spending a summer with her in San Juan. They could walk down the streets and she could point out her favorite cats, and trees, and rocks, and he’d make sure to remember every single one of them. They could spend long days with the old men playing dominoes, sucking on Piraguas without a care in the world.

But he knew these were just dreams, memories of a life long gone. Reyna barely spoke about her home town, let alone made plans to go back. Jason was not nearly dense enough to believe her life back then had been all sunshine and beautiful colours. They were demigods, and all demigods had monsters. Maybe someday, Reyna would tell him about hers.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids make a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

Jason was nothing more than a ghost now. Barely even a lare, who unlike himself, could be seen and talked to. That was alright. He wasn’t here to be perceived.

He’d tried to visit his friends multiple times over the months since he’d died- to see them one last time, for just a moment of closure- but this was the first time he’d had any success.

Of course the first person he came to see had to be Reyna. He’d missed her more than he knew he could miss a person. He supposed it was because he hadn’t so much as had a proper conversation with his best friend since Juno had so rudely snatched him away. And then it had taken so much time, time he only later realized he didn’t have to waste, for his memories to return fully. All he’d had of her for so long had been a space in his heart where she should have fit. Not a name, or a face, but a feeling. He wished he’d had more time to find his way back to her.

Reyna meant more to him than he had ever told her, and familiar regret came bubbling up like bile in his throat. Wasn’t the afterlife supposed to give him peace? But how could there be peace when there she sat, thick braid hanging loosely over her shoulder, sharpening her silver dagger? She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, her breath fogging up in the cold air seeming to breathe life into his dead soul. He’d never stopped loving her.

He was glad she’d found a home with the Hunters of Artemis. For the first time in a long time, she looked free. And while it meant they wouldn’t meet again anytime soon, he was glad to know she had the chance to live a long, long life. One full of the adventures and love and happiness she deserved. A small, perhaps selfish part of him hoped she wouldn’t forget him along the way.

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why I think you should come live with me And we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry Or hide in the closet And just like a folk song Our love will be passed on

Wanting to strangle someone that didn’t exist was a strange feeling, but one that was evoked in Jason every time Reyna mentioned her father. Neither of them had had happy childhoods or good parents, it seemed. Well, that was something to bond over.

It hadn’t been easy for Reyna to talk about him, which he understood, especially now that he knew how that story ended. He didn’t blame her one bit for what she’d done, but couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t had to make such a decision at all. The burden it seemed she would always bear was heavy, and she shouldn’t have been made to carry it at all. Not speaking ill of the dead kept getting harder by the second.

Maybe if her story had gotten better after she and Hylla had run away, his nerves wouldn’t be feeling so shot. Circe’s island should have been an escape. With its sandy beaches, and palm trees, and miles of sparkling blue ocean Reyna liked to describe in such detail. But no. All the adults in their lives had to be exploitative bastards. Reyna hadn’t sounded too angry about it though. She’d laughed as she recounted her tales of turning pirates into guinea pigs, coerced into the act as she may have been. Jason couldn’t lie- he saw the allure.

Speaking of pirates- the one’s Reyna had escaped with unfortunately hadn’t been the swashbucklery kind either. They’d been the cut-throat, cruel kind and now Reyna couldn’t stand sea shanties anymore; which was alright with Jason since he couldn’t sing anyway. The only reason the sisters had to escape with them at all had been because two upstart demigods she refused to divulge the names of, decided to blow up the island. Jason couldn’t decide whether he wanted to smack them upside the head for it, or thank them profusely for unwittingly steering Reyna to Camp Jupiter.

He hoped that here, she’d finally found a home and a place to rest. It wasn’t perfect, not even close, but she was making it hers. Reyna was already well on her way to becoming a praetor, and he knew she’d make one of New Rome’s finest.

Please, picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

Jason often wondered how Reyna had thought of him after she’d found out about his history. There hadn’t been much he’d been able to remember about his own childhood. He’d been only two years old when he’d been given to Lupa, and all his memories of a family were little more than a blur. His home had been Camp Jupiter for most of his life, and he truly couldn’t remember another.

When he’d told her all he could remember of how it was to be raised by a wolf, she’d only looked amused. She’d simply looked him up and down and laughed. She had a cute laugh, all snorts and shaking shoulders. He didn’t always understand the things that made her laugh, but laughing with her felt so natural he did it every golden time.

He wondered if she’d had anyone to laugh with when he was taken away. Had she missed him? Every memory he’d had of her had been snatched away, but there were some people with whom you were so completely intertwined, even the Gods couldn’t untangle the strings. Perhaps he couldn’t place a name to what had been missing, but he had remembered her. Even in death, he would remember.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We'll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

What he wouldn’t give to go back and have one last Hot Chocolate with her in the Garden of Bacchus, to speak one more sentence in Spanish (Te amo, Reyna) and hear her snort at his accent, to brush her hair behind her ear once more. He hadn’t told her nearly enough times, how much he’d loved her laugh.

What he wouldn’t give to have one last chance to confess to her how he felt, with Aurum and Argentum there so she knew none of it was a lie.

But there was nothing he could give to turn back time, or build himself a different fate. They could only be together now in stories, and memories, and alternate universes. If there were any kind Gods left, perhaps in an afterlife that wouldn’t come for centuries.

Maybe he should feel sadness or loss, looking at her now for the last time. Mourn the loss of all the happiness they could have had together. He was going to leave again without a way to say goodbye or wish her well or have her look at him, but all he felt was contentment. She sat around a glowing fire, surrounded by her friends and sisters, singing soft campfire songs and telling stories of old. Maybe someday, she’d narrate their story too.

Jason finally found peace in the knowledge that his girl was going to be okay.

[fencer-x]

Fencer’s Big Eva Review

Just got done watching the Eva finale, so it’s time to get out thoughts while they’re fresh! Caveat: Eva is difficult to understand for native speakers, and I’m definitely not a native speaker XD I feel like I got maybe half, and got the rough gist of like 10% of the rest, and the remaining was just no friggin’ clue. Would’ve gone better if there’d at least been JP subs, but you’ll have to deal with what I’ve got for now!

It should be obvious, but there’ll be HELLA MAJOR SPOILERS for the final Evangelion movie. Ready? Let’s go.

The movie very helpfully starts off with a ~2 min recap of the movies thus far. This was great because I didn’t have time to rewatch the previous three before going, and while I’ve seen them a few times, it took me a second the recall what had happened at the very end of Q, so I was glad to get a very brief recap.

The actual movie itself opens on...Paris! Or Paris post-Near-Third-Impact (Third Impact?), which is a red and black wasteland. It seems that Wille has been developing these things that look like Entry Plugs that they shove into the ground and restore everything to pre-all-impacts (so like, blue water and everything); couldn’t get HOW it managed that, but they had them and were attempting to restore Paris.

Would have been a walk in the park except for weird Eva-Angel-Machine hybrids that were trying to prevent them from activating the plugs. Lots of fighting happens, with Mari piloting her Eva to give them cover while the Wille staff set everything up. Eventually they manage it, and Euro Nerv is restored.

Then we switch over to right where Q left off: Asuka, Clone!Rei, and a catatonic Shinji wandering around trying to go who knows where. They eventually get picked up by...Touji! Yes, an older Touji now who lives in a commune of survivors, scraping out a semblance of a life in one of the areas protected by the aforementioned plugs (they had another name but I couldn’t get it).

In this community, Touji is the local doctor--and he’s married with a kid! He married Hikari, and they have an infant daughter named Tsubame. 

Now, let’s check in how our main three do when introduced to this relatively normal life they get to enjoy for a few weeks:

Asuka: Still in ‘fight mode’, ready to go at a moment’s notice. How she thinks she’s gonna fight when she has no Eva idk, but for this entire little bit, she’s either naked or in her plugsuit. She stays with Aida Kensuke, who’s kind of the handyman, and is generally just rude af.

Shinji: For 90% of this bit, he’s totally shut off. He’s incredibly fucked up from having JUST watched Kaworu die, essentially because of him, and Asuka has on a DSS choker, and every time he sees it, he collapses and begins vomiting violently. He stays with the Suzuharas at first but is quickly sent to stay with Asuka and Kensuke because they don’t really know how to deal with him. Kensuke manages to get him to open up a little bit, but eventually it’s Rei who gets him started on the path back to being himself. At one point he runs away and ‘lives’ alone for a while in what I think was either the building where he first met Kaworu playing the piano or one that looked a lot like it. He goes out to do odd jobs with Kensuke a lot, and on one occasion he’s taken to an ‘outdoor lab’ where some workers are experimenting with new gardening techniques. It’s here he’s meets...Kaji Ryouji. No, not that Kaji Ryouji. That Kaji DIED. This is the son he had with Misato (named after him).

Rei: Now, let me say I’ve never been super interested in Rei. I didn’t dislike her, like I did Asuka, but I wasn’t really interested in her either. She was just there. Guys.....I LOVED REI IN THIS MOVIE. I would have watched 2.5 hours of the Rei Learns To Be A Human show and been happy for the $20 I paid. Rei spends her time in the commune learning to be an individual. She stays with the Suzuharas and learns what different words mean, like “Good morning” and “Good night” and “Thank you” and “Goodbye”, she gets super close with a bunch of old ladies who essentially adopt her and teach her how to plant turnips and what a bath is, and she becomes her own person. When she first arrives, the Suzuharas think she’s “Ayanami Rei”, but she explains that she isn’t, so they call her “Sokkuri-san” instead (”Miss Spitting Image” essentially), and the old ladies find it amusing at first but then encourage her to choose her own name, and when she can’t think of one, they tell her to have someone choose one for her, so she asks the Uber-Depressed Shinji to choose one. These interactions are what eventually pull him back to himself, but ultimately he’s unable to come up with one, because “Ayanami is Ayanami”. She thanks him for trying anyway, returns his SD player to him..............................and then dissolves into a pile of LCL fluid, as apparently all clones eventually return to LCL. Fantastic, because Shinji didn’t need EVEN MORE TRAUMA.

Somehow, the above doesn’t break Shinji, and he resolves to go back to Wille and face his father I guess?? I’m not entirely clear on why (gotta go read some reports of my own I guess lol). Back on the ship with Misato et al., Shinji isn’t forced to wear a choker but he’s put in a cell with like explosives in it I guess. He starts having visions of Kaworu helping him accept things.

At this point it’s getting close to the climax, and Wille are going after Nerv/Gendo once and for all. During the final fight, Asuka tried to take out Unit 13′s core, and then she’s not managing it, she rips off her eyepatch, and we see that the patch was keeping the 9th angel bound within her eye, so she decides to throw away her humanity and let it take over to destroy Unit 13. Unfortunately, she’s killed in the end--how? She’s approached by a vision of her ‘original’. Yup, Asuka was a clone herself, like Rei, and she turns back into LCL and she and unit 02 are absorbed by Unit 13.

Eventually the fight comes down to Shinji vs. Gendo, who has thrown away his own humanity and bonded with Unit 13 in the hopes of completing the Human Instrumentality Project. He and Shinji go head to head as Shinji summons (???) Unit 01 from inside Unit 13, and there’s a really REALLY WEIRD final fight between the two that involves some weird animation choices. Lots of storyboards and overly CGI’d CGI, and some bits that seem to take them through the different incarnations of the Eva series.

We also get Gendo backstory by the boatload as he and Shinji have an actual goddamn conversation for once. Mari features prominently in Gendo’s flashbacks so she was definitely one of his classmates it seems, who introduced him to Fuyutsuki. I’m still not entirely clear on who she is/was.

However, through this conversation, Shinji gives the people he’s interacted with most closely/been closest with closure I guess? Gendo, Asuka...Kaworu.

So about Kaworu. Their conversation was VERY VERY WEIRD; it’s made clear that Shinji is also now aware of all the different iterations of their meeting. When they talk, it’s set at the beach where they first met in the TV series, and Shinji says he remembers all the times they’ve met before. Shinji mentions that Kaworu reminds him a lot of his father, and then there are some very strange flashbacks (????) of Kaworu’s that I feel like imply he’s to Gendo as Rei is to Yui. At one point, he’s seen talking to Fuyutsuki, trying to decide on a name for himself and settling on ‘Nagisa’ as it means ‘beach’, where the ocean meets the land. Fuyutsuki later addresses Kaworu, who’s sitting in Gendo’s desk, as “Commander Nagisa”. Kaworu reflects to Shinji that he failed so many times to make Shinji happy, but he’s realized now that that’s because he doesn’t know what would make Shinji happy and it was arrogant to think he knew better. He was looking for his own happiness all along.

In the end, after all these goodbyes, Shinji is left with the decision of what to do with, well, reality. He decides, in a conversation with Rei, that he’ll reset everything--create a ‘neon genesis’--to a world without Eva or Angels.

Our last shot is an older Shinji meeting his (presumed??) girlfriend Mari on a train platform. On the opposite platform waiting for their own train are Kaworu, Asuka, and Rei. Shinji and Mari hold hands and run, laughing, from the train station.

NEON GENESIS EVANGELION GOT A HAPPY ENDING. 2021 REALLY BE OUT HERE WILDING.

My final thoughts:

Okay I’ll say it: the fuck with Shinji/Mari endgame? Believe me, it was completely out of left field even in this movie. They just happened to be the only final survivors. Mari flirted a hell of a lot more with ASUKA and was distraught at her death than she did with Shinji. They were a kind of cute couple in the end, but very ????? 

I’m disappointed Shinji wasn’t the one to give Kaworu his happiness in the end, after Kaworu spent so long and so many lives and realities trying to make him happy and failing. I’m choosing to believe, since these multiple realities/resets are canon now, that he did it in one of them. They all deserve the happiness of their choosing, not just Shinji’s, and Kaworu showed us time and time again that his happiness definitively involves being with Shinji.

I’m sure I missed a lot, because yanno, Eva, and it was long enough as is, but gosh I wish I could’ve understood more of everything that was going on, cause there was SO MUCH WEIRD SHIT.

If I watch this movie again, I will 500% just be watching those “Rei learns to be human with the help of a bunch of old cackling biddies” bits :> Those were THE BEST PARTS OF THE MOVIE.

[dreamii-yume]

(1/2) This one is pretty dark, lets take Crowley's incompetence to the logical conclusion, also the fact that despite what everybody says I think the player is meant to be a girl disguising as a boy. Beastmen (aka the Savannaclaw students) have a very keen sense of smell and despite reader's efforts, they find out shes in fact a female. Now leaving a sole female in a place filled with aggressive, horny dudes is never a good idea. This is where the angst/tragedy kicks in (continue in second ask)

Anonymous asked :

(3/3)-→ in a pool of her own blood, her skin laden with bruises and other unmentionable things. The ‘Claw students learnt about her secret and offered to leave her alone if she had sex with them, when she she refused they took her by force, but got carried away and she died in the process. What follows is complete chaos, students screaming in the halls, the dorm heads demanding the culprit to show themselves, Grim crying and screaming as other students enter the bathroom...

Since this scenario request wasn’t specified for any character, why not write for everyone? ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ For that reason alone, I’m going to title requests like these as “Imagine a dream with Yume” for easy distinction! (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

Also, was this request supposed to be split into three parts? I checked my inbox over and over again but I only received two though? Hm, weird.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Such an unfortunate thing to happen to someone so loved...

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

Your vision was getting clouded over, dark spots slowly appearing one by one as unfamiliar hands travelled everywhere in your bare body. Who they belong to, you didn’t know and you didn’t care, you wanted nothing more right now but to throw them off you. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, struggling as someone’s grip on your throat tightened, forcing broken sobs to escape you. You tried to claw your freedom out, you tried moving your legs but each of your limbs were being held against your will. Even with the ringing that was slowly pulsating through your ears, you could still hear their awful snarls and comments, cruel laughter echoed throughout the bathroom walls.

“Hey, dude! Aren’t you being too rough? Little girly’s turning a bit blue, don’t you think?”

“Nah, she’ll be fine! God, she just feels so good, I can’t help but to lose myself!”

Bruises had begun forming on your body, anywhere your skin could expose itself to. Your usually healthy skin tone was now dirtied by these disgusting purplish marks and wounds, some still had been bleeding for a concerning amount of time now. You gasped desperately as the lack of air was seriously becoming a big problem for you, but they wouldn’t know that. No matter how much you struggle, they didn’t care, they didn’t even notice how much you wanted to voice out your complaints, but just have no way to do so. Instead, their voices got louder, more excited as the pain in your bottom region increased.

You knew there were risks of attending an all-boys magical school as a cross-dressing girl. You knew that it wasn’t going to be easy, but where else can you go? It’s not like you wanted to be in Twisted Wonderland in the first place, you needed somewhere to stay. Besides, seeing your monster companion, Grimm getting so worked up after finally getting accepted, even as a half-student brought you unimaginable amount of joy. Until you could find a way to get back to your world, you’ll just stick around for as long as you can because you personally thought it was fun.

...Or at least, it was supposed to be fun even with all the risks.

But ending up at the mercy of a bunch of rowdy, good-for-nothing teenagers, coming from different dorms was definitely not a risk that you regretfully did not include to that list. They must be bored, to have taken the time to thoroughly confront you about exposing your true gender like this and using that secret against yours even though you were sure that you have been so careful all this time. The headmaster and Grimm were the only ones that know, probably the Dark Mirror as well, but you were careful enough that even Ace and Deuce who you spend so much time with have never even showed a single gaze of suspicion. You’ve met so much nice and kind individuals in this academy, even if some weren’t so obvious about it at first, that you forgot about the other side of the spectrum. This, you forgot about this, the dark side to every good side.

Night Raven College’s reputation would suffer if the word got out about it accepting a female without a single shred of magic within herself. Two automatically disqualified qualities from a prestigious school, that’s what Headmaster Crowley told you. You didn’t want to contribute to that, but you didn’t want to agree with what the men wanted from you. You may not be the most refined lady out there, but you have dignity like everyone else. Wanting to play with your body in exchange of your secret not getting out was definitely not a fair deal.

But it didn’t matter, it seemed.

Because before you knew it, they were all over you, dragging you one night in a bathroom unused when the moon is out. You were powerless, not just in terms of strength but in terms of magical proficiency, these were students who can pin you down with a single bat of their magical pens, you stood no chance. You screamed, you struggled, you cried, but it was all for naught, they got you where they wanted you. They took turns, filling you up in all your holes with no mercy, their hands fiddling with your flesh way too rough, biting you until you bleed, and even have the audacity to contaminate you with their disgusting seed. There was no love, no care, just brutality and vile, selfish thoughts they wanted to satisfy.

You just wanted them to get over with it already, to just leave you alone. It sickens you to wonder how these men could even walk again tomorrow, acting like nothing happened, acting like they hadn’t just ruined your life. You hated this, you wanted to go back to your dorm, to talk bedtime stories with Grimm. You wanted to walk to school again tomorrow with your fellow first years with a smile on your faces. You wanted to know more about your seniors and listen to their stories way back when they were still in their younger years.

You still wanted to do so much, much more in this unfamiliar world! But...

“Hey...Hey! Wait...! Stop! Fuck! She’s not breathing!”

...It seems like you were never going to live through those moments again.

Your lungs had given up on you, unable to pump any more oxygen to keep your heart pumping. You vision fades as the rest of your body shuts down, you stopped struggling and your limbs fall lifelessly. The hands on your throat loosened but it was far too late, the bone keeping your neck intact had been fractured from the sheer pressure. The panicked state of the perpetrators reflected themselves in your now hollow eyes, as they began to scramble, realizing what just happened. Funny, the rest of your body functions had given up, yet your hearing seemed to be the longest to stay up, at least enough to hear their voices, laced in fear.

“Idiot! I told you, you were being too rough! You straight up killed her!”

“H-How am I supposed to know that!? Don’t blame me! You were the one holding her down!”

“Aah...! W-What are we supposed to do...!?”

You would’ve had a sadistic satisfaction from the way they are acting, the regret building up in their minds. It serves them right but what was the point? Anyone could tell they were being regretful because they’re the ones who’s going to be in trouble, not because they regretted their actions towards you. In the end, they just blamed each other and went their own ways, teleporting without even bothering to fix your current state. Your major injuries were still fresh and bleeding without stop, they didn’t even try to at least clean that up? How rude.

An unfortunate ending isn’t it? No one would’ve expected a plot twist as gruesome as this one. This girl knew she was going to leave this world someday, this whole world of Twisted Wonderland. She doesn’t belong here and she certainly have people waiting for her in her own world. She knew that, she was a lot more aware than anyone after all. It’s just that this lone woman did not expect that she would be leaving both worlds at the same, the universe all throughout.

Ah...You just wished that this universe had given you more time, just enough to at least say goodbye to everyone first.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the...Sweetness???

This is just sad. Yume and my Darlings needs a hug. (´；Д；`)

[lastxviolet]

The Assistant - Ch. 3

Description: Summary - Her sixth year at Hogwarts was supposed to be relatively peaceful but after an incident on the Hogwarts express, Violet Wilkes finds herself the newest target of the Weasley twins. This, combined with a dark family secret, and the Triwizard tournament, makes her first few months back more exciting and stressful than every year before.

pairing: George Weasley x Original Female Character

warnings: pg-13. slow burn, eventual smut hehe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218804/chapters/69148695

They'd arrived on a Thursday night so Violet spent the long weekend finalizing her class schedule, helping the occasional lost first year, and being restless for Monday morning.

She'd met with Snape on Saturday to go over her O.W.L scores from last year's test and create her schedule. Their meeting was a pleasant one even though she became quite flustered when he'd asked for her after graduation plans. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind taking over for Snape one day but didn't feel confident in telling him. She also felt a longing to become a potioneer and perhaps create her own recipes at an apothecary someday. None of which she shared because there was nothing worse than being less than certain in Snape's presence.

He took her flimsy answer without protest and congratulated her on receiving almost all Outstanding scores, expressing as much happiness as his stoic disposition would allow about having her in advanced potions this year.

"You'll be requiring the use of my classroom for after-hour practice, I presume," her mentor said with a meaningful look.

He was a master at Occlumens but it always seemed as though he could read minds without it.

"That would be very much appreciated Professor," she confessed. "I wasn't able to practice much over the summer. Muggles don't usually have valerian root or infusion of wormwood lying around."

The side of his mouth twitched. "How do they survive? Draught of the Living Dead is most ambitious," he replied, referring to her aforementioned ingredients.

It was, but so was she. She was hoping to be able to create the entire Advanced Potions textbook from memory by the end of the year. Class stopped challenging her during her fourth year so after-hours practice was her only opportunity to flex her knowledge in any way. She'd tried hard for the past five years to become an expert simply because potions fascinated her. There was no rhyme or reason other than being captivated by the things that harmless ingredients could do when stirred together correctly.

They'd only decided on six classes this year, after all, she'd scored out of many courses being offered and didn't want to waste her time. She glanced down at the scribbled schedule Snape had made for her. Potions on Mondays and Wednesdays, followed by Ancient Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts, respectively. Herbology on Tuesdays, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures on Thursdays. Friday was completely free, as were almost all of her afternoons. Years of packing her schedule and studying deep into the night seemed to have paid off. It was a relief to finally have some free time, even though most of it would be spent studying for the NEWT exams at the end of the year.

She waited for Snape to give her the key to the classroom and raced back to the common room to compare schedules with Sadie.

"You're joking," she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Only one class together? What am I going to do in Transfiguration with a bunch of Ravenclaws, without you?"

"Maybe you can transform yourself into a kind and patient person," Violet joked, masking her disappointment and dodging her friend's elbow again.

Dark, hooded figures surrounded her, making escape impossible. She pleaded, screamed, begged them to hurt her instead. They laughed before turning their wands on Olivia, who was too far out of reach.

Her nightmare jolted her awake before her alarm could. Cruico, rang in her mind even after her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the wall, getting her bearings straight, listening carefully, ensuring that it was just a dream, and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead before getting dressed for the first day of classes.

The nightmare faded from her mind with each step she and Sadie took on the way up to breakfast. She crossed the floor of the much calmer Great Hall, listening to Sadie rant about whether or not she would have any Durmstrang boys in her class and fiddling with her tie. It was ridiculous to have to wear it, especially now that they could all see the much better uniform alternatives from other schools.

"All I'm saying is that I have had to put up with barely there pretty boys like Malfoy for five years," she huffed. "And I feel as though this school owes me a chance at a great love affair with a real man."

A real man. Yeah right, she thought. Judging by the leers and comments erupting from the Durmstrang table as they walked by, these were just slightly older-looking, rude horny gits.

She grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet off of the Slytherin table and skimmed the Triwizard tournament article on the front page.

How this a school AND government-sanctioned event, she did not know. Muggle schools, as she remembered, called off outdoor sporting events if even one person in the stands saw lightning. Hogwarts, however, participated in an event for seven centuries that had resulted in countless deaths and injuries.

Figures.

"Merlin, people have died?" She muttered.

Sadie shrugged and nodded before recommitting her attention to her oatmeal, and one of the Bulgarian's still looking towards her from across the aisle.

At 8:45, Sadie bid her a dramatic goodbye, blowing her kisses and pretending to cry, the entire walk back out of the Great Hall and into the main hallway. If it had been her first year at Hogwarts, she would've about crumbled at the strange looks from her peers but by now she'd gotten used to it. Sadie was not one for blending into the scenery and although that was what Violet preferred, she let her drag her into the spotlight now and then, like exposure therapy.

She gladly descended back into the dungeons, past her common room door, letting the stone hall guide her to the potions classroom at the end of the corridor. She knew the walk like the back of her hand and could've done it walking backward, with her eyes closed.

The muggy, dimly lit classroom was a welcome sight. Cauldrons, strange beakers, and scattered ingredients had never looked so inviting. The second table to the back had been her seat last year, so she flitted through the familiar room and claimed it again.

As she'd suspected, mostly green and blue ties trickled into the classroom. She didn't mind the company of Ravenclaws in the slightest. Generally speaking, they were able to take things seriously and didn't seem to anger Snape as much as yellow or red ties did. Potions was an incredibly disciplined subject with little instant gratification or convenient use, as their professor liked to remind them, so there was no room for impulse, bravery, or even passion; only precision and memorization.

The second chair at her table squeaked over the stone floor, its shrill noise breaking her away from her internal musings.

Adrian Pucey, a tall dark-haired Slytherin boy, dropped into it and nodded her a polite hello. All things considered, when it came to Slytherin boys, his company wouldn't be particularly minded either. He could be a prick when he was with the rest of their house Quidditch team but alone, he was quiet and harmless. Besides, she knew he'd let her take the lead on all their projects.

Thank god, she thought, there was nothing worse than being stuck with a talkative git for a partner.

Loud laughs from the hallway cut through the comfortable silence. The almost full class let out a low murmur, annoyed at the ruckus. She whipped around and squinted, ready to shoot a death glare at its source. There was a very well-known dungeon etiquette of silence and although she wasn't a fan of most traditions, that one was respectable.

A red and gold tie snapped her out of her hateful trance.

Its owner met her eyes.

George Weasley tugged fellow Gryffindor, Lee Jordan, through the door. Her glare turned into a look of surprise. Surely they were in the wrong classroom. He stopped walking and squinted at her slightly. It took him a few seconds to recognize her face in the dim room and she watched him register her presence. His eyebrows raised in equal parts shock and something that looked like distress. Their eyes lingered until he opened his mouth like he was about to say something and she dug her nails into her palm and spun back around in the hopes that he wouldn't yell across the room.

Four times in one week? She could feel her intestines winding together, twisting her already anxious torso into a bout of nerves. This must be a mistake, she told herself. Snape will come and sort it out, ending whatever scheme they're attempting.

Taking calming breaths, she turned to her table partner, desperate for some way out of the embarrassing scenarios she'd begun spinning in her head.

"How was your summer, Adrian?"

"Oh, it was fine thanks. Actually I —"

The classroom door slammed shut. Professor Snape burst through the room, drawing his wand to shut the curtains and light several candles and a fireplace.

Thank god. She really didn't want to hear about whatever weird, rich, hunting trip Adrian took with his pure-blood family.

Everyone watched as Snape swept aggressively into the room but she could feel Georges's eyes on the back of her head. How was he here? And why was he looking at her?

"Do you two need assistance finding your seats," Snape sneered at the Gryffindors standing awkwardly in the aisle. She glanced over Adrian's ear and watched them rush forward to the table directly across the aisle.

"Not there Mr. Jordan," Snape hissed, looming from his podium with a furious look on his face. "Something tells me you will be incapable of restraining yourself from vexing the rest of us if seated next to Mr. Weasley. Switch with Mr. Pucey."

Violet watched Adrian grimace and collect his things. If he was the least worst Slytherin boy to be stuck with, then she guessed that Lee Jordan was the least worst Gryffindor boy. Especially when considering her other option. Despite never speaking before, she knew he willingly hung out with the twins, almost as much as they hung out with each other. That alone was cause for an evaluation of his mental state, regardless of how harmless he seemed.

She greeted Lee with a smile and a nod. Of course, he returned the small act of congeniality with an otherworldly grin and a friendly nudge to her bicep. She tensed slightly and tried not to grimace. Classic Gryffindor, she thought, give them an inch and they'll take a mile.

Snape, satisfied with the new arrangement, opened his mouth to begin class. She braced herself for his wrath now that he was more tense than normal but his first word was cut off by a loud screech of wood scooting across the stone. She turned to find the culprit and watched George stifle a giggle with his hand, now a good two inches closer to a murderous-looking Adrain. Snape remained silent and glanced back down at his book with an even more sour look on his face.

"In this class," he began. "You will learn skills beyond reading directly from your textbook. Some of you are here because of talent… while others, by dumb luck." He eyed George with disdain.

"To separate the two, we will begin today's lesson by brewing the last potion you learned last year…from memory," he said with a measured, cold voice.

The potion ran through her head as soon as he finished his sentence. She knew it. Of course, she knew it. She watched her classmates look around nervously, and tried not to smile and out herself as a know-it-all. It was always a balancing act. Staying in the good graces of such a harsh man like Snape and keeping up appearances around her fellow students.

"You have an hour — present the potion to me when you have finished," he concluded, taking a seat at his desk.

Lee's stared at her wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. As she had suspected, this was not his best subject. She turned and glared at him, suspending him in panic for one more second before smiling. She thought about winking but didn't want to give him any reason to think that they were friends. Lee squinted at her in a mixture of confusion and realization.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "You know it, don't you."

His expression relaxed significantly, and he looked as if he'd just won the lottery. She didn't acknowledge him further and calmly reached underneath the table and pulled out a bottle of standard potion water, pouring it into their pewter cauldron with the burner set to low. It would be boiling by the time they got the ingredients so she quickly scribbled them on a piece of parchment and motioned for Lee to follow her. He did so wordlessly, and with more pep in his step than she'd ever seen a person muster.

"Alright Jordan, if you want to help, you can carry these," she said.

Lee gladly carried the powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn from the shelves back to their table, blocking the labels as he passed Adrian and George bickering behind their cauldron.

"Sorry Georgie, no cheating," Lee whispered across the aisle, with a smug smile.

If he wasn't best friends with the Weasley's then it might have been an ok setup. Clearly, he had no clue what he was doing, meaning he would stay out of her way, but also seemed rather eager to follow instructions. Regardless, she was sure he'd find a way to annoy her before the term was up.

She watched George stop fussing and stare daggers into his friend.

"Shove off," he hissed, bristling with agitation.

He'd always been so easygoing in herbology but she guessed that she'd never looked hard enough to see the anger, frustration, and competitiveness bursting within. Probably what happens when you have seven siblings, she thought. Thank god she only had Olivia.

His eyes met hers for a brief moment with the same look he'd had on his face when she'd shrunk her tongue on the train. Evidently, she was in fact, not the only one with whom he had quite a temper.

Lee burst into a fit of laugher and she dropped her eyes back onto the task at hand.

"Quiet," Snape snapped.

She focused back on stirring the first round of powdered moonstone in a clockwise pattern, waiting for the mixture to turn blue and let the repetitive motion ease her mind.

Of course, Snape would choose Draught of Peace to do from memory, she thought, silently giggling to herself. Not only was it complicated, but it required precise stirring patterns for a particular amount of time. Also, its deceptive name wouldn't make anyone suspect that if it was brewed incorrectly, it quite literally turned into an elixir of death. He probably didn't mean it as one, but she appreciated the morbid joke.

"Pass me the hellebore," she whispered to her table partner.

Lee looked a little shocked that she was speaking to him but reached into the pile regardless. He looked around the room and stealthily handed her the small vial. "Ah, yes, the goats spell," he said a little too loudly.

A few of their peers stood up to go to the ingredient cabinet and she bit back a giggle, not wanting to egg her partner on.

She usually wouldn't call herself amused during potions class but Lee looked like he was having the time of his life and it was nearly impossible not to feel somewhat entertained. He exaggerated every movement when she asked him for an ingredient or stirring spoon, and acted accusatory towards anyone who glanced over for too long. He was a lot less intrusive than the twins but his energy level was the same, along with the way that he had to turn every single moment into a joke or a laugh. It looked exhausting but he seemed to be having fun.

After nearly an hour, she added the final ingredients and stirred the solution in a clockwise motion, watching the potion turn turquoise, purple, red, and a myriad of other colors before finally turning a glowing white with the addition of powdered porcupine quills. The potion illuminated the room with shimmering white light for a few seconds before she took it off the burner.

"Merlin's beard," Lee exclaimed under his breath.

Suddenly very aware of the silence in the room, she tried not to think about all the eyes on her, especially the ones she knew were focused on her in contempt.

"Go put those back," she hissed at Lee.

He jumped from his chair, scooped up the ingredients, and skipped down the aisle with probably the biggest shit-eating grin Hogwarts had ever seen, on his face.

While all attention was on him, she quietly ladled the concoction into a vial and scurried up to Snape's desk. He took one glance at the now light turquoise potion and pocketed the bottle seemingly unsurprised to see her although his face had been hidden underneath a book for the entirety of the class.

"Miss Wilkes, can you please tell your peers what potion they should have attempted to make?"

Her stomach sank. The rest of her classmates had stopped fiddling with their cauldrons and were staring at her with annoyed expressions. It was to be expected but that didn't make it hurt any less. Except for Lee, who was exuberantly giving her a thumbs up, and George, who just looked dumbfounded and a little pissed off. Maybe he'd thought she was kidding about potions.

"Draught of Peace," she announced to the cold room.

"Which does what, exactly," Snape said, questioning her further.

She knew he was just trying to make a point but hated being used as the one to make it. The label of know-it-all was no longer a worry, now they would just skip straight to teacher's pet.

"It relieves anxiety and agitation," she said, avoiding eye contact.

"I am sure you will all want a dose before our next lesson," Snape said in a scolding tone. "Please come to class on Wednesday prepared, or your grade and house points will suffer…tremendously," he hesitated and turned towards her. "50 points to you Miss Wilkes for Slytherin —class dismissed."

She squeaked out a quick goodbye to her mentor, before rushing back to her desk. His praise meant the world to her but it also put a target on her back. In past years, it at least took a few periods for the class to realize she was on good terms with him. Now, it just looked like they'd colluded to make everyone else feel stupid.

She jumped a little as Lee cut her off before she could make it past his chair, trapping her in the aisle.

"That was totally brilliant!"

Not in the mood, she thought. His praise meant nothing. He was just thankful to not receive failing marks for the day.

"Move," she hissed, keeping her eyes on the ground.

He stumbled back against the table a bit but turned to let her through before continuing.

"How on earth did you do that…I heard if you get Draught of Peace even the slightest bit wrong, you could kill somebody!"

She shoved her books back into her bag, frantic to leave without further incident but wasn't fast enough as Adrian and George appeared in the aisle.

"Then it's a shame you didn't drink ours," Adrian snarled at her table partner.

Great. Now they could all fight like snakes and lions were meant to. She just wanted to leave and be done with this nightmare class.

"Awh Pucey, you didn't enjoy our romantic time in your dungeon together," George said, swinging an arm around his partner's shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Adrian shoved him off like his touch was poison, making the Gryffindors chuckle.

"Thanks a lot, Wilkes," Lee said, dawning the same smile he'd given her at the beginning of class. At least it was a little more warranted now.

She eyed him suspiciously but nodded in acceptance.

"So you really do know your potions," George mused, still looking at her, his eyes gleaming competitively. "I'm surprised."

The look told her straight away that her plan had backfired. Entertaining the twins on the train had not in fact made her immune to interacting with either of them for the rest of the year. She would just have to try something else.

"That makes one of us. You're just as daft as I suspected."

She ignored Lee's cackling and stared at the redhead. She could've just left, or let Adrian deal with him but something flared inside her at the chance to challenge such a smug man. It felt good. It wasn't often she felt equally matched, even now she suspected that George was quite a bit beneath her but the opportunity was too enticing. His anger, although she'd only been privy to it once, was addictive.

It must have felt equally as strong for George because his face got darker again and he leaned closer, ready to retort. His eyes searched hers and she could tell that he was going to make it personal, perhaps even try to be hurtful but Adrian cut him off before he could say anything.

"Shove off Weasley."

Something seemed to snap and George's face switched back to a jovial smile and mischievous eyes.

She stared at him in shock. What was his problem? Adrian was much more infuriating than she was but he barely even seemed to register his words.

"Until next time my love," he cooed at Adrian whilst he and Lee fell into a fit of giggles and pulled each other out of the door.

She and Adrian followed silently after them, walking together out of courtesy, rather than friendship. One of the perks of such a historic house with noble bloodlines was the occasional show of chivalry

They walked down the corridor and back up into the main hall. "Thanks for the 50 points Wilkes," he said, turning to part ways. "Can't believe I'm stuck with a bloody Weasley."

He flashed her a smile which she returned with a polite nod before making her way to her next class, trying to ignore the hustle and bustle of the students around her.

She plopped down in Ancient Runes a few minutes later, still annoyed about the less than peaceful potions class.

Professor Babbling said something about Ancient Runes, best-serving students, as an independent study but she couldn't focus on her open book and unfinished translation. The class was always appreciated seeing as quiet moments throughout the day were rather rare outside of the library. The opportunity to spend several hours with just her thoughts and meaningless translations was a much-needed break from the day-to-day busyness.

George's comment rang in her head. What was his problem? He exuded arrogance without reason. She'd outsmarted him on the train and although she'd technically outsmarted him in potions, it was entirely out of her hands and not meant as an insult to him in any way. Maybe his ego was bruised, even though the only witness on the train was his brother, who she seriously doubted cared about intelligence. Either way, he seemed to be taking their encounters entirely personal.

Whatever it was, he needed to get over it, and quick. Usually, potions class was the only hour and a half in her day where she got to gather her thoughts and methodically apply her knowledge with little disturbance. She would rather deal with the consequences of forcing him to leave her alone, than sacrifice it.

Even after an entire afternoon and evening in the library, George's smug face still taunted her as she went to sleep.