#i never realised it's spelled different in English

[16woodsequ]

What do usaAmericans call toques if they don't call them toques?

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Congrats on 1k! Absolutely love your work, especially the darker fics.

Can I request step-sis intersex!Nat walking in on reader as she's asleep and deciding that she's finally going to take her for herself? Nat starts eating reader out to get her wet and the reader moans Nat's name in her sleep, so Nat wakes her up so she can really enjoy it.

Thinking that maybe Nat ties the readers hands above her head, as Nat forces her huge cock inside the readers tiny body, creating a belly bulge. Finishing inside her to breed her and then making the reader cock-warm her so that she can stay full. Belly rubbing because Nat is obsessed with the sight of her cock inside her innocent little step-sis.

Kinks: bondage, breeding, dub-con that turns consensual, somnophilia, belly bulge, Daddy kink and thinking cock-warming too.

Thank you!

Closer

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x step-sis!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Having your beloved step sister back home for the summer turned more pleasant than expected.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, DUB-con, but the reader is very into it, amab!Nat, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, kinda mean Nat, tattooed Nat (Nat is just the stereotypical bad boy), innocent!reader, Daddy!kink, alcohol use, bondage, breeding kink, somnophila, cock warming, size kink?

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: kisses from the hospital guys enjoy the first park of the 1k special I’ll post more requests soon. This request was really fun to write

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Natasha knew how wrong it was to feel that kind of way about her step sister, but she was only a human too. Ever since she had came to visit her father for this summer she couldn't help herself but see you in a different light.

Back when her dad first started to live with your mother, she only had eyes for the many girls tendering to her, who were in her grade or above. She never really noticed you, of course you were her annoying little step sister who could've guessed you'd turn into this?

You weren't innocent either, you were always found of Natasha. In your eyes she was the coolest person you'd know, with her blue tainted hair and fast cars, you were heart broken whenever you saw a different girl enter her room.

Natasha soon went away for college, meaning you'd only get to see her for the holidays which was still enough to keep you crushing on her. It was special that she visited this summer especially since you just turned 18.

This summer had been unusual hot for the colder climate of Ohio, but it's not like you were complaining to see Nat in all those wifebeaters and sport bras. She normally rummaged in the garden, laying at the pool, again in sports bras and swim trunks. It made your cheeks heat, your stomach feel weird, and every once in a while when you saw how she climbed out of the pool, the muscles under her wet skin flexing, it made you feel all itchy down there.

Another hot summer day, another day where you'd relax under the water sprinkler in your backyard, just like you did when you were a child. Except for a pair of eyes watching from the pool. Natasha Romanoff, your step- sister, whose eyes hid under her shades, watched every move of yours. She sat by the pool shirtless to "tan", Natasha never tanned, she had the skin colour of a porcelain doll and always used the highest sunscreen to not end up looking like a lobster. No, she was there to observe, not the local birds, or nature, no, you. How could anyone be so carless, she asked herself as she watched your white camisole top turn translucent.

Shortly after realising what she was doing she, or better what your view did to her prick, she looked back on her phone scrolling on a black screen to look less suspicious. But it's not like you would've noticed anyway, Natasha knew how innocent you were, how your mother had sheltered you in contrast to herself. God, get yourself together Natasha, she thought to herself. If she wanted she could've get a hook up here within the day, but it wouldn't help last time she tried she accidentally moaned your name while cumming. Something so utterly embarrassing the girl left immediately after.

"Natty" you ask in an innocent voice, every other person calling the other woman that wouldn't stand here today, but she let it slide. "What's up" She asked as her eyes wandered over your wet body to which your clothes clanged. Natasha never was a religious person but in this moment she thanked god for the invention of sunglasses.

"Can you get me towel from inside" you asked giving her your best bambi eyes. "Go get it yourself, I'm not your personal servant" She scoffed "Please, Tasha I'm all wet and I don't want it tripping on the floor board" She shook her head "You should've thought about that in the first place" She mumbled under her breath but still got up to get you your towel. She could never say no to one of your pleads.

"Thank you" you grinned and wrapped you up in one of this big fluffy towels. She smirked back at you her hands rubbing over your wet skin. "There you go sweetheart" She mumbled again feeling a tingle in her pants when her hands touched you.

"Where's mom?" You asked stepping into the large living area you parents had. "Out for dinner with my dad" She remarked not even looking up from the TV where some, for me, unimportant soccer game was running. "Why are you still standing there?" She asked in a dismissive tone "They'll be gone the whole night" Oh, the whole night just you and your step sister together, great. Nat chugged more of her beer side eyeing you to leave her alone, of course she wanted you close, closer than close, but you couldn't know that yet. Not to mention that with the more of the bitter liquid she had the less she could control her urges. 

It wasn't that wrong, she tried to tell herself, millions of guys before her had fucked their step sisters right? Eventually you opened your mouth again "I'll head to bed now" you started and only earned a little hum from her and some mumbled words you didn't understand before slipping on her beer bottle again. 

Her team lost, of course it did, Natasha turned the TV off rubbing her eyes before too going to her bed room but not without making another stop at your room. She slipped though the crack in the door closing it gently before taking a seat next you on the soft cushion of the bed. She always did that, making sure you were save and sound but tonight it was different. She was frustrated, and horney, one more than the other. 

"You're so pretty" she mumbled being lost deep in the haze of the alcohol and lust, she knew you couldn't hear her nor feel but she still gently wiped some lost hair behind your ear. You squirmed under her feather like touch. You rolled onto your back the blanket slipping from your body exposing your topless body. Fuck, you had forgotten to wear a shirt to bed, or had you? Nat saw it as an invitation to taste your sweet body. 

She stood up pulling her hoodie off to reveal a hard set of muscles covered in tattoos, she strangled your smaller body kissing the valley between your breasts before turning to kiss down your soft stomach. You squirmed again your hands trying to find something to grip on, Nat caught your hands bringing them above your head before using her abandoned top to tie your hands to the head board of your framed bed. 

Finally she could turn to your soaked panties tugging them off your legs, your step sister placed both of your legs on her shoulders giving you better access to your sleeping form. She kissed your pubic bone before taking a deep sniff of your glossy cunt. "let my taste you baby girl" She groaned before licking over your weeping pussy, you tasted fantastic better than any girl she had before you. 

Your clit was pulsing in need to be touched, standing proud from his hood Nat couldn't resist tasting the forbidden fruit. When she took your bubble of nerves in her mouth she couldn't believe her ears. "Nat" came a sob from your throat she let she teeth scrape over it just to check she wasn't completely mad "Natasha" now it was a full blown moan, she smiled getting more and more bold with her movements. 

She kept on licking away on your cunt and thankfully to her many years of experience with the girls in college she had you trembling towards the edge within minutes. She took your clit in her mouth again this time biting down gently, to wake you from your slumber you thought to yourself. 

"I- what" poor innocent you were to confused to even grasped what was happening to you you were lost in a haze of mind numbing pleasure until you tried to find to source of it. "Nat-?" you were interrupted by an almost pornographic moan breaking free from your throat. You winded your body on the bed tugging on the restrains before climaxing under her tongue. She made you ride out your orgasm before hushing your quiet sobs. "You're mine baby girl" she kissed your pelvis bone. "Nat we can't" you mumbled "No one needs to find out" She reassured you "Just say no and we'll forget a bout this all, but something tells me, little girl, you want me just as much as I want you"

"You’re right" you mumbled under your breath making Nat smirk she stood up again tugging off your boxers to reveal a dick of a size you had never seen before. Of course you didn't have much experience but she looked inhuman. "Nat it's not-" She hushed you "call me daddy" Instinctively you closed your legs making nat chuckle. "Too big" You mewled again "Oh bunny, I'll make it fit, daddy would never hurt her little girl" she reassured you her hands trailed down her body brushing over the small patch of her which made up her happy trail. She pried your legs open before pushing them to your chest. 

She alined herself with you before slowly pushing inside your small hole, bringing tears to your eyes. It felt like her dick suffocated by your tight velvet walls, when she finally did bottom you out she knew it was heaven of earth. She admired the small bulge forming on your lower stomach rubbing over it in an awe. 

She waited for you to at least try to adjust before setting a rapid pace giving you no breaks, it felt like she was trying to compare her performance with a machine. I string of moans and whispers left your throat as her hips kept pistoling into your tight heat. 

"Fuck" She groaned in between thrusts "I'm gonna fucking breed this little pussy. Wouldn't you like that daddy making you a mommy?" You were too dumbed down to even comprehend her words  and the self assigned title made you see stars. "Answer daddy" She commented slapping your tits which bounced with ever vigour truths of her hips. "Yes daddy" you mewl in ecstasy "make me your mommy" You moaned making your step sister grin. 

With a few more truths you were both on the edge of ecstasy, especially you saw the stars already. "Cum" she commanded "Fucking cum with me" another sting of curse words left her mouth before releasing her white juices inside of you triggering your own orgasm. After leaving your high she gently rubbed your belly again not dreaming of pulling out from your walls. "mine" she mumbled upon seeing the clear bugle she had formed in your stomach. She freed your hands kissing each of your wrists which made you giggle at the romantic gesture, as if she hadn't just fucked you into oblivion. 

She moved you to lay on top of her making you trace the fine lines of her tattoos, she was your step sister but from this night on she was much more than that. 

:)

[jasmines-library]

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left. 

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and  shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly. 

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls. 

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough. 

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room. 

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips. 

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside. 

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly. 

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment. 

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

~

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls. 

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none. 

You were trapped. 

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor. 

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps. 

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest. 

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance. 

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered. 

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder. 

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed. 

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives. 

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped. 

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind. 

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob. 

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too.  They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

[wonderlandwalker]

Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay

Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick

A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly

To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.

Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.

The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory

So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.

But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.

But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.

The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it. 

You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.

You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer

You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest. 

He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.

He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.

You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.

You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm. 

But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did. 

You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did. 

The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape. 

You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck. 

You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more. 

So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface. 

The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing. 

But the water was your friend, at least it used to be. 

In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it. 

So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold. 

With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore. 

You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there. 

He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow. 

But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon. 

If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.

The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon. 

It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you

It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.

It told you to wake up.

Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home

You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.

"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.

As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.

"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.

"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.

"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.

"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.

[gayestbacon]

A sneak peak

Sorry for any potential spelling errors;; English isn't my first language, and I miss stuff occasionally(ヽ´ω`)

This is very much inspired by Rizzanon's "Undoing Fate." Great fic that you should definitely read if you haven't.

──────────────────────────────

Cold

Everything is so cold.

I take a deep breath as I stare up to the sky, the night feeling brighter with the help of the soft white snow. It feels good, maybe even right. It’s as if I’m finally at peace with myself, like I’ve walked away from my past and from them.

My family, the Waynes.

Truthfully it was nice at first. I really did feel like I belonged with them, like I had a place to belong to. Having siblings to play with, talk to and a family that cared for me, it was all I could have ever asked for. But things were bound to change. I never did become a hero like them, maybe that’s why everything became different. With each passing day they became busier and busier, they stopped having time to be with me. I didn’t really blame them, sure at first I was sad, but I believed in them, I believed that maybe they were just tired. They did so much for this city after all. 

But after days became months, and months became years, I realised they wouldn't go back to how they were before. They never would.

It felt unfair, it was unfair.

The others would talk with each other, they would bond, and they would be a family. Why would they exclude me? Just because I didn’t become a hero like them? Just because I didn’t want a life of fighting? 

Why act like I wasn’t there, I WAS. I always was.

Why can't they be the loving family I once had?

Why was I the only one who tried and not them.

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This isn't really a long sneak peak. The prologue itself isn't that long, but I wanna finish writing 3 chapters before I start posting more, so I thought it would be fair to share a little right now.

Also, updates will be sporadic, Uni keeps me very busy most of the time.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

|Part 1| | |Part 2| | |Masterlist|

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards. 

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs. 

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid. 

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to. 

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh. 

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom. 

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores. 

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. 

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be. 

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real. 

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation. 

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for. 

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try. 

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty. 

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly. 

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding. 

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word. 

But he's not. 

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go. 

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms. 

Gods, you've missed him. 

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness. 

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you. 

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word. 

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess. 

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt. 

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling. 

Gods, how you love this man. 

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso. 

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer. 

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince. 

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions. 

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care. 

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a  towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit. 

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too. 

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you. 

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths. 

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it. 

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you. 

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception. 

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. 

He's said it all. 

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything. 

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough. 

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying. 

“I'm yours.” 

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect. 

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right? 

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured. 

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you. 

Nobody does. 

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes. 

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous. 

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore. 

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way. 

“Who, then?” 

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through. 

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose. 

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.” 

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love. 

THE END

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @takamimami

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch. 11

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

I am back!! This chaptr took longer than I anticipated, I didn't know exactly how to continue even though I have an aidea of what I want. So here it is the new chapter, hope you guys like it!

Wanda is finally getting there, and Reader has to face so harsh truths about herself and those around herself.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 11

Wanda and Scarlet

Everyone left as soon as you disappeared with the twins upstairs. 

The time seemed to pass without your consent, and by the time the twins had fallen asleep and you were back on the first floor the world around you felt different. You stepped into the living room, your shadows flickering to make sure you were alone while you wandered around the place to take a closer look at the pictures decorating the place. You had always like pictures, and in general, you were good at photography; you realized every single one of the pictures you were seeing had a single purpose: to tell the story of yours and Wanda’s life.

It started with a simple friendship, the both of you were young and as the images move through the years you could see fear behind the attraction, the realisation of love and the tentativeness of a relationship until, at the end, all you could see was a happy ending. You tilted your head, your eyes checking the images over and over again until they fell on a missing section. A missing part of the timeline.

“We broke up one day,” you held yourself tight, your ears twitching with your eyes narrowing lightly, the woman behind you approached slowly, her voice sending a shiver down your back.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, her voice carried the weight of unwanted memories. 

“I was scared, it was the first time she said she loved me.” You turned slightly looking at the woman out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you cheat on her?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice dripping with old resentment. 

Wanda finally stood beside you, and she was so much different than your own Wanda. Taller, calm, with a confidence that poured out of her with an electric jolt of power you were not familiar with. The woman dropped her eyes, then you found yourself looking into her green ones.

“I broke her heart, and then I started dating Vision.” Wanda pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing lightly. “I pretend to be normal to honour my parents by being what they expected me to be.”

You clenched your jaw, the tension evident in your posture. 

“We almost got married until…I almost lost her.” Wanda whispered, her face breaking into a mask of pain. “She had disappeared on me, I couldn't reach her out and then, one day she…she came back and saved me and Vis…”

Wanda let out a bitter laughter, tears rolling down her eyes. 

“I almost lost her because I was afraid and I just…I couldn’t let her go afterwards. I fought hard to earn her forgiveness, and her love again.”

You swallowed down your own tears, turning away from this Wanda before letting your eyes wandered around a story you had always wished for. You could feel the weight of her stare on you, the poking of her presence waiting for the right moment to either talk to you, or push for answers to questions you were not ready to hear.

In the end you stopped on the one picture you had feared, the one you had seen before but with a different individual smiling back at you.

“They look like you…and me.” You finally said turning to Wanda, this time around the smile that broke her façade was one of pure bliss.

The other woman stepped forward, her eyes drifting to the picture and then to you. She had seen enough inside your head to know this might hurt in ways she could only imagine, and a part of Wanda was completely baffled by the mistakes done without a single thought of the consequences. She had to wonder, though, how much of those mistakes grew into resentment and how many of them were fear of allowing love in.

“They were our little miracle.” Wanda whispered, her voice softened all of a sudden before she closed the distance between you and her, and this time around you couldn’t look away or stepped away from her overwhelming persona.

“They were possible because of you and me, Y/N.” Her words made you shiver, the touch of her skin against yours was electrifying. “We weren’t even trying, and when I found out it had been me the one getting pregnant I was scared of you finding out.”

“Why?” You finally asked furrowing your brows, Wanda cocked a brow with her eyes gleaming challenging at you.

“Because of your thoughts, because of your doubts.” Wanda sighed cupping your face with her hand, “when I approached you my main fear was of you thinking I cheated.”

Your body tensed hardening your stare trying to ignore the tenderness and the understanding in those green eyes you had dreamed about so many times. It still hurt. It hurt like the very first time you fell in love with her, and the first time you saw the video of her and Vision. You closed your eyes, but never stopped feeling the woman in front of you, so much like your Wanda, yet so different than her.

Wanda opened her lips, her heart yearning to get you closer to feel as if you were real. As if you were her Y/N, but she couldn’t stop feeling the coldness, the anger, the sadness pouring out of you from your every pore.

When Wanda spoke again, she did so with the same tone of voice she used that very first time. The one that had always told Y/N that she was loved that she was cherished, that she was everything Wanda needed.

“When I told her about the pregnancy, Tommy and Billy made sure to help me out. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why…” Wanda let out a breathless chuckle, “but when I told her, it just clicked. It was as if she could feel them, and she could sense the familiarity in them. They were as much hers as they were mine.”

“I felt them.” The words left your mouth before you could prevent it. You lifted your face to the ceiling, furrowing your brows while your powers ignited with the familiarity the twins brought to you. “It was strange, yet familiar…And I…”

You stopped right before you could say more than you meant to, you lifted your eyes only then taking notice of how close this Wanda was to you. You could feel her warm breath on your face, her eyes gleaming with a deep green that showed all the love she felt for you.

Correction, for the version of yourself in this universe.

Not you.

Never you.

Your whole demeanour changed in the blink of an eye. Your body tensed, and you stepped back until there was only coldness and distance between you and Wanda. And in that moment, your heart broke all over again for the things you had just discovered in a world that was not your own.

“I can’t…” You whispered; Wanda lifted her hand but she hesitated stepping back as well.

It was in that moment you thought about the videos you received; those chapters of a story Wanda had lived in world she had created. The twins that had come to life as the children of Vision, the sudden mess that became out of such a magic, and then the piercing pain inside your chest when you realized Wanda was even further away than where she had been the first time the both of you broke up.

Your mind quivered breaking into a flow of memories you had tried to contain behind the shadows, and your chest shrank into a deep void filled with coldness and emptiness that left you breathless with desperation clinging to your senses.

Wanda stepped back; she creased her brows watching as your powers flickered around her. You clenched your jaw tilting your head until your footsteps take you out of the house. The world around you trembled surrounding you in complete darkness until all that was left was the single, crimson light of Wanda gleaming in the distance.

“Why are you so hurt, Y/N?” She asked, and her voice was like a dagger piercing your soul and twisting the memories of what could had been.

Instead of answering, instead of voicing your frustrations you broke down with tears rolling down your cheeks and the woman you loved holding you tightly. You hugged her tightly knowing, in this world, she was yours as much as you were hers and, even if it was for a brief moment, you could pretend this was your life.

And that was all that matter at the moment.

________________________________________________

You had been watching the routine from afar.

Billy and Tommy were extraordinary, their powers had been developing along with their physical attributes under the watchful eye of your counterpart and Wanda. Your heart twisted every time they looked at you or addressed you in such a familiar and loving way. The way kids sought out their parents, and it broke your heart the same way it was breaking Wanda’s.

“You were quite good to them, though I am pretty sure Billy noticed you were not his mother.” The voice was familiar to you, you had heard him a thousand times teasing and overall being a complete nuisance until he was finally killed by Thanos.

Loki Odinson was looking completely different to the Loki you had met back home.

His hair was around his shoulders, and he was wearing a dark suit with a tie matching the green of his magic. He gave you a quick once over, his eyes cold and calculating, while his hand twitched around calling upon a spell. You turned completely getting your body ready for a fight, the god smirked and soon you let out a gasp filled with an exclamation of pain as your back hit the ground.

“Not as fast as you used to, I see.”

“You just wait until I get use to this stranger’s body, then you will wish I was this slow.”

“Indeed.” He replied with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he stood by your side stretching out a hand to help you up.

You eyed the hand before taking it, the strength he used was enough to tell you he was not someone to mess with. Yet, there was something different about this Loki; he was calmer, more collected and with a hidden force that made you curious just to know the story behind the Asgardians in this universe.

“So, you played for the good guys in this universe?”

Loki scowled at the question walking past you until he reached the porch steps sitting down.

“I have never been part of the bad guys, but I have never seen eye to eye with Thor or some of those idiots he calls friends,” Loki leaned back settling his eyes on you, “I find it insulting to label people in such a black and white vision of life, when you and I know, that people and everyone in general is just…”

“Complicated.” You finished narrowing your eyes at Loki, the young male smirked tilting his head to one side.

“Exactly. Now, let’s get down to business, how much do you know of what happened before you got here?”

__________________________________

Another day sneaked through the clouds, the sun shone right above the heads of the agents surrounding the area around the dome. 

Yelena was playing with the knife you had given to her for her birthday, her eyebrows creased together while the TV got ready to play the same chapter of your boring life over and over again. Yelena wished whoever was controlling the show would at least get new ideas, or at least let all of you spice things up because this was getting ridiculous.

There was a loud beep coming from the screen, and the image in the TV flickered between colours and black and white. Yelena almost fell off her chair when you appeared on the screen, this time around the story was different, and for the first time Yelena wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

“Natasha! You better come here right now!” 

*****

The morning light sneaked through the bedroom curtains. The warm of a single ray of sunshine shook you from your slumber, without really opening your eyes you tried to cover up your face knowing that full consciousness poked through your brain.

Continuing with your marvellous sleep would not be possible anymore.

You furrowed your brows, turning to the side while stretching your arm to try and hug the woman you shared your bed with. 

Wanda.

A jolt of electricity went from your brain to your body, your heart beating at an anormal speed while you sat down in the bed. You glanced around the room but everything was the same as the day before, and the before that one. You frowned lifting a hand to your face, your thoughts came crashing down without any specific order.

Your wife. Her name was…

You turned to your bedside table, your mind flashed the memory of a single frame with the woman holding onto you smiling brightly. Your frown deepened, the name dancing inside your mind but unable to make sense.

It's going to be okay, my love, don't take the pill. Don't take it and you and I will be together again.

The voice inside your head whispered, the sweet tone was familiar, your heart jumped with anticipation. You turned on your side ready to leave the bed when the door of the room opened and another woman came right in.

She had dark hair, her lips full and red, while those eyes gleamed with a strange light.

“Good morning, baby, did you sleep well?” She came onto you leaning in to seal her words with a kiss.

It felt wrong, but you answered to the kiss lazily with the pretension of being just awake for a couple of minutes. The woman narrowed her eyes though the smile never left her face, she leaned back before making her way to the curtains and opening them with a yank of her hands.

“Today is a beautiful day, and last night was just amazing my love, I really enjoy it when you let me use you hard.” Her words pretended to be flirty, with a teasing undertone she tried to converge with the sultry stare she sent your way.

You shifted uncomfortably, this time around you wandered through your body to validate the veracity of her words. You didn't feel sore, but of course it could also be the effect of the drug or whatever it was you were in. You stood up making your way towards the woman.

Agatha.

Your face broke into another smile, your arms wrapping around her before leaning in to suck on her pulse point. Agatha lifted her hands closing them around your biceps, a sudden gasp left her lips and she tilted her head to give you more access.

“I love it when you let me be in charge, love.” You whispered in her ear, your lips teasing the shell of her ear, your eyes narrowing when the fixated on the flickering reality behind the woman.

“Mmm, I can tell you want more, but today we have the event in the school and we cannot miss it, I'm still competing for first place in the desserts contest.” Agatha stepped back her eyes dark and dangerous, a hint of lust gleaming inside them.

This was the very first time you approached her out of your free will, and the woman was excited. If you were already looking Agatha out and making these advances it meant her magic was growing bending the reality and helping her get what she wanted. Soon Scarlet and Wanda would no longer be an issue and you would be next.

“Very well, but you won't escape, Missy, I will have you later on.” You winked at her turning to make your way to the bathroom, Agatha called out to you stepping closer while lifting a single pill in her hand.

“I will wait patiently for you, now be a good girl and take your medication and take a bath.” 

Your smile never faltered taking the pill you put it right away in your mouth swallowing in front of the woman before entering the bathroom to get ready for the day. Agatha stood there for a moment, her eyes squinting trying to catch anything unusual but soon the shower started running and you started humming distractedly. The dark-haired woman smirked and left, the world around her flickering from purple to red.

*****

The day was bright and warm.

It was a complete contrast of the weather America had suffered in Norway. She glanced at the sky, then at the buildings around her, noticing for the very first time the forms of other people walking around the lanes in front of their homes. She frowned stepping back inside the house where Wanda had been recovering after her session with Agatha, she knelt beside the other woman lifting a hand to measure the temperature.

“Today I don't have a fever.” Wanda opened her eyes offering a half smile to the teen.

“That's good.” America sighed checking Wanda before sitting down on the floor. “You look weak.”

“I'm okay.” Wanda sat down slowly, she grabbed the pillows on the sofa tightly clenching her eyes close. “Scarlet is the one doing most of the work.”

America scoffed looking away from Wanda, that was another part of this crazy plan she didn't like. Whatever had happened before America came into the game, Wanda had detached herself from her powers and the part of her that had always been ready to fight for you. She had seen the suffering behind those green eyes, the pain in Wanda’s voice and the defeat in her posture, she had come to terms that you would never be Wanda’s and that she would always be in love with someone that didn't want her back. 

The world had been unfair to you and Wanda, and the both of you had given into miscommunications and pride to even attempt a shaky friendship. America pursed her lips glancing at the coffee table where Wanda had placed the necklace she wore at all times. 

“You are Scarlet.” America finally replied, locking her eyes with those of Wanda, “you and her are one and the same, you told me yourself that you could feel everything she did and that…”

“I know.” Wanda stood up on shaky legs, she pressed her lips together leaning in to grab the necklace. “Let's get ready, Agatha is finally confident enough that the world around her is of her own creation and we need to make the most of this chance to wake Y/N and get her help to break the spell.”

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, she could tell the other woman tensed waiting for the question.

America hesitated before stepping closer, “are you sure this is going to work?”

“It has to.” Wanda sighed glancing to the floor, “Agatha won't rest until she had completed the ritual and drained me of my powers, then she would move onto Y/N…”

“And finally, me.” America wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes tearing up hating people around her kept being hurt because of her powers. Because of who she was.

Wanda put her hands on her shoulders, she offered a tender smile and her eyes gleamed with determination.

“Nothing bad is going to happen, we will make this work and then we will deal with Agatha.”

“Would you fuse with Scarlet?” America gauged Wanda's expression, she could see the fear behind those green eyes. “I mean, she is you after all and perhaps in that way you and Y/N…”

“Even if we were to do this, America, she is…she would never…” Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her hand putting her hair back holding onto everything she wanted to say, everything she had been experiencing ever since she got a chance to see you again.

“It's never going to happen, she doesn't love me anymore and I broke any chances to be with her a long time ago.” 

America opened her mouth to say something but Wanda silenced her with a gesture of her hands.

“No, she is not…when I accepted this I knew what I was getting into.” Wanda couldn't help the bitterness in her voice, “I knew it would hurt and we would never be nothing more than allies, I just…”

There were no more words, Wanda strsightned up turning her back to the teen.

“I’m going to get ready, I suggest you do the same.”

Wanda didn’t say anything, without tuning around she made her way back to her room and got the bath ready. She held back her tears, tired of the pain this reunion with you had brought to her heart. She knew she had to pay for her sins, what she didn’t know was how high of a price she would have to cover for everything to at least be forgiven. She had been paying her mistakes from day one, without a single moment of peace or redemption.

The water fell on her washing away the painful pressure resting on her chest, her fist clenched tightly as she went along with the plan, with the memories, with everything Agatha made her lived all over again in order to get deeper into her powers. Wanda was not completely sure she understood, and Scarlet had been unable to be cooperative unless you were involved; everything turned out to be a complete mess, and the young witch had to wonder if perhaps outside this reality there was someone trying to help them out solve the mess they were in.

If there was someone out there that was not blaming Wanda for yet another invented reality.

Wanda closed her eyes, her body flinched with the sudden jolt of electricity that went through her limbs all the way to the very core of her soul. She clenched her jaw close, the world flickered for a moment until she felt the pulse of energy gathering around her hands. Scarlet was ready, and they were running out of time. With a single sigh, Wanda turned off the water and went to get ready.

They only had one chance, she needed to be fast if they wanted to safe Y/N and themselves before it was too late.

And, after seeing her weakened state, Wanda knew time was not on their side.

___________________________

Time was relative.

And, apparently, space bent to the laws of time.

Loki had been very clear in his explanation of the multiverse, and his role in getting you in the right timeline and the right body. You heard everything he told you, with your mind taking the bits you thought important while trying to understand those you found hard to believe in. The theory was solid, but it certainly was meant for someone with a deeper knowledge on these matters like Hank, Tony or even Bruce. You went along with the game, believing what the god was saying to you while formulating a plan that could help you out without disturbing the timeline or the multiverse.

But for Loki to make it work, he would need time, and that meant you would need to live in a world you already found was destroying you little by little.

Without a doubt, this universe was going to be the dead of you.

When you were young and left the Avengers, you used to torture yourself with the ‘What ifs’. What if you forgive Wanda, what if you had been enough, what if you and her were still together. What if.

You remembered those long nights in which you imagine a normal life with her, the thought of getting married and forming a family. These thoughts grew inside your mind until you hit the rock bottom and you had to start a real healing process, you had accepted what happened and you stepped out of the shadows to move forward. You were a hero, with or without the Avengers, you were still pretty much a person that could help others so that was what you did.

You never forgot Wanda, and those little what if scenarios would come at nights or on those specific moments in which you were alone with your thoughts. Your heart used to ache with the shadows of the past while facing the light of the future; and now, trapped in this world, you were face to face with the biggest what if there was dancing inside your mind.

What if you give yourself a chance to love her again?

What if you forgive her?

The door of the basement opened and closed with a heavy thud, you shook your head turning to see Wanda Maximoff coming down the stairs with a plate filled with sandwiches and a three glasses of orange juice. Your eyes went from the tray to the woman then back to the book you had been staring at, Loki snorted knowingly sitting down while flickering his hand around.

The lights grew in intensity, and Wanda shot a quick glare to Loki before shaking her head in defeat. She settled her tray on the table taking a seat right beside you, her eyes softening lightly as they read on your face the torturing thoughts dancing inside your head that multiply when you realised Wanda had prepared your favourite sandwich. The young woman offered an affectionate smile before turning to Loki.

“It is quite evident they had been dream-walking, whoever has been doing it, at least, has become quite adept at it and has been creating a complete mayhem while doing so.” Wanda grabbed a sandwich furrowing her brow while opening the book and showing some graphics filled with runes and letters you did not understand.

Loki tilted his head eating in silence while glancing at the graphics, he turned to you then back to Wanda who continued speaking while filling up in the gaps that you did not know. Those that you had not been a part of while on in this universe.

“When we first encountered America, she told us about the multiple encounters she had with strange creatures chasing her around the multiple universes.” Wanda pursed her lips furrowing her brows, “something happened though, there was a moment of peace and then when they came back, she fell into our world.”

“Is this the part in which everything else happened?” Loki asked tilting his head thoughtfully, “but there was a moment of peace as well, was it not? Stark mentioned a time of peace in which she was getting use to this place…”

“And to us, yes.” Wanda shifted lightly, her eyes flickered to where you were already finishing your sandwich, your tongue tucking out cleaning your lips before you went back to your food. She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, it seemed that some things didn’t change in between universes.

“Dream-walking is a powerful technique, not just anyone can do it and whoever decides to enter in such a realm of dark magic usually gets affected,” Loki leaned back closing his eyes for a moment, “whoever is behind this know what they are doing, and they had probably been planning this for a very long time.”

“I’ve been having dreams I shouldn’t have, dreams with Scarlet sneaking inside a different reality.” You chewed on your lower lip drinking from the glass before continuing, “some of them are pretty real, everything that she does it’s usually pretty real, yet I know it is not Wanda. It feels different, she is different even if they look the same.”

There was a moment of silence in which you tried to ignore the stares from Loki and Wanda on you. You distracted yourself with the food and the beverage while playing with the ring on your hand, you shifted on the chair ready to speak until Loki beat you to it.

“You said you saw a rune before the explosion, right?” Loki inquired, he produced a piece of paper and a pen that lend you waiting for you to draw what you saw.

“Yep.”

Wanda observed as you drew the rune, she leaned forward softening when her nose caught up with the aroma of your shampoo and special scent that was innately yours. She couldn't help the hand that rested on your arm, nor the tenderness behind her caress. You shifted on the spot, your back going rigid the moment you felt the familiarity behind the touch.

“There is something I don't understand yet, why do you call her Scarlet and referring to her as a third individual?” Loki finally asked furrowing his brows, you scrunched up your nose turning to Wanda then to Loki.

“Because they are not the same?” You knew something was not right the moment those words left your mouth.

Wanda and Loki glanced at one another, breaking their eye contact almost right away. 

“What?” You could see the hesitation but it was Wanda the one who answered.

“I am Scarlet, Y/N. That was my alias when I was part of the Avengers.” She clarified, you noticed just how closed she was to you, the twitched of her lips just as her hand cleaned up the crumbs of bread on your clothes and face. 

“Okay, well…look, I don't know what happened there, but my Wan…” You scoffed at the slip, stepping back and giving your back to Wanda you spoke again, “Wanda and Scarlet are certainly not the same. If anything…Scarlet is more…”

“Daring? Powerful? Mischievous? Straightforward?” Loki cocked his head, he smirked when you turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “That's Wanda alright, I will add an annoyance, and a pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.” Wanda glared at Loki who bowed his head, the relationship was almost as confusing as seeing Steve squirmed when talking to Loki.

“I wouldn't describe it like that…” you trailed off remembering the dreams, the touches and her words. 

You clenched your hands, this world was certainly driving you mad. 

“Is it possible this Scarlet is from a different Universe?” You asked looking at the circle on the floor, “perhaps a more deranged and obsessive version of Wanda from a different Universe?”

Loki stiffened at the question, he shifted from one foot to the other before stepping forward with a flickered of his hand a book appeared out of thin air. He grabbed the article, turning to Wanda before stepping forward into the circle.

“A cup of tea would be nice,” Loki sat down on the circle opening the book in front of him, the world soon darkened only to ignite a green flame. 

You stood your ground, stepping inside the circle making the magic around it flickered dangerously. Your eyes went black, leaning forward with your arms firmly placed at your sides.

“Answer the question.” You demanded to which Loki merely shrugged.

“Wherever there is a Wanda, there is always a Scarlet Witch, Y/N. They are one and the same.” Loki then twirled his fingers sitting Indian style while closing his eyes, the electric current of his magic pushed you away. “The fact that you are telling us there are two versions of Wanda only tells me what I should look for.”

“How can you know this? How can you be so sure that they are not two versions of different universes?”

“Because something like this has already happened before.” Loki waved his hand away frowning, “now, hush, I need to do this right or else I may take far longer than necessary and you need to go back to your timeline before something catastrophic happens.”

You observed the god with his hands position to the sides, flickering as the book finally revealed golden pages and he smirked. You were about to speak again but your body went completely rigid when a hand placed itself on your shoulder, you turned around only to see Wanda looking directly at you. Her touch was tender, and almost tentative, but it was enough for you to stop whatever you were about to do or ask. For a brief moment she waited, until you finally relaxed and stepped back.

“Come, this may take a while and I think we still have a conversation pending.”

You hesitated with your shadows flickering around you, whatever power or will to fight you had in you was soon eased out when Wanda sought out your eyes. You swallowed down your weakness before this woman, and without a single word you turned around and left the basement. The door close behind you with a flash of gold and green filling the basement before the closed door stopped any other intrusion from the magic.

You rested your back against the door, the young woman standing beside you bounced for a moment before she went into action and made her way to the kitchen. At first, you only follow her with your eyes, the confidence she was usually wearing faltered from time to time, and you could see the tension building up inside her while she grabbed the tea pot and got everything ready. Her back was turned towards you, but you were completely sure she was pretty aware of your presence and what you were doing.

After a while, and once it was pretty obvious Wanda had nothing else to do but wait for the water to boil you pushed from the door walking towards the kitchen and sitting down on a chair near the counter.

“When I first learnt about my powers, I started hearing this voice inside my head.” Wanda started talking out of nowhere, you sat down waiting for the story to continue.

“It was not a stranger's voice, it was mine though it held an influence and power that soon became part of me.” Wanda turned around, this time around she made sure it was impossible for you to look away. “While I was being experimented on, the voice kept on infusing me with confidence and power, I understood that the magic in me was talking but then…”

Wanda trailed off and her face broke into a painful mask of the past. The memories came rushing in, she lifted a hand to grab her arm hugging herself protectively. You swallowed down holding onto the counter, your heart twisted wanting to go over there and comfort Wanda. You clenched your jaw, looking away and hating the emotions running rampant inside of you.

“I was then given to my parents, my adoptive parents.” Wanda put a hand on her forehead, her voice breaking lightly. “She never told you?”

“She decided to cheat on me instead of trusting in me.” You replied through clenched teeth.

“It's so easy to judge others, isn't it?” Wanda shook her head leaning forward. “Have you ever asked her about the experiments? About the abuse? About the training?”

“Perhaps it was different from her that it was for you.”

Wanda leaned back, lifting her chin, “perhaps, but something tells me our worlds differ in the way we react to the past.”

“Does it make a difference?” You leaned forward, for the very first time spitting out anger while hitting the counter. “She broke my heart in the worst way and then…then came back with a set of troubles that only brought confusion and memories I didn't want!”

Wanda shook her head pointing a finger at you.

“If this is what you think then, you never knew her and you never understood her.” Wanda opened her mouth to say something else but she stopped, her eyes taking in the form of her wife and her heart yearning to have her back. To feel the sweet caress of her eyes on her. 

“She should have been more open, then. I was patient! I was always there for her! Even after Pietro died…”

“What?” Wanda paled at this, she opened her eyes trembling while she approached you, a piercing pain breaking through her chest.

You blinked confusedly shrugging, the anger still lingering in your features. 

“The day she became part of the team, that day Sokovia was destroyed. Pietro died saving Clint.” You hesitated to take notice of the pain crossing Wanda's eyes, “I'm sorry.”

Tears piled up in her eyes, her hand went to her chest. It was quite evident this news affected her greatly, even if her own brother was alive and her country was still pretty much a functional place with a stable government and amazing landscapes. You looked away, unable to face the tears or the sorrow coming from Wanda.

“And then, she lost you.” She whispered, leaning back, Wanda opened her mouth before closing it again. 

You shrugged, passing your hand through your hair, everything was messed up. Your emotions, the situation, the fact your heart ached to comfort Wanda, that you still wondered if perhaps being with her was possible. 

“I just…I want this to end. I don't know if this was…”

“You really don't understand,” this time around Wanda approached you with a tentative stare in her eyes. You stepped back the muscles of your face tense, with your chin lifted slightly.

“I think I understand enough after I saw her fucking Vision while she was still dating me.” You spat out, your eyes black while your powers flickered behind you.

Wanda had seen it.

The treason, the broken heart, the pride and the anger, but she had also seen the love, the nostalgia, the confusion as to what to do, how to proceed. She had seen enough to approach you, to place a hand on your shoulder. This Wanda had seen it all, and she had lived it before; the only difference was that she never hide herself from who she was and what she was experimenting with you. She had to face it because if she hadn't done so, she would have lost you and she was not ready to let you go.

It was getting harder to breathe, your thoughts came rushing inside your mind creating a spiralling of emotions that pierce through your very soul. Those green eyes were looking at you with understanding, there was a hint of sadness there but also hopefulness, and you just dropped your shoulders with your eyes glancing to the window.

“I can't look at you without remembering my pain,” you mumbled grabbing your chest, “I can't be here, and I can't be part of this fight if it means I have to be close to you. To her.”

“You still love her?” The question made you shiver, the darkness in your eyes increased and this time around the shadows wrapped around your body.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does to me.” Wanda squeezed your shoulder tenderly, there was a hint of a smile but otherwise the woman was trying to be as open as she could be with you. “I can't believe she did what she did, it was something that crossed my mind but I never…”

“Yes, well, things are different in every universe, right?” You tried to move away but the hand tightened her hold and Wanda kept you closer. 

“When I broke things up, and I started dating Vision something happened.” Wanda started, her voice carried the weight of memories while her magic flickered around you and her. “It was confusing at first, denying you, denying me, trying to convince myself that I was living in sin and that I have to change to be the perfect daughter, to be the person I was raised to be.”

You listened carefully, it was the very first time you heard Wanda after what happened. And while this experience was completely different to the one you lived with your Wanda you could perceive the similarities. The relationship with Vision, you running away, the conflict in the world, the need for the Avengers to save the day, everything came crashing down and the fight was almost lost because Wanda had lost herself and her mind. She was becoming a different person, her powers getting out of control. Until she was faced with her powers and the presence inside her mind.

“It was strange, at first, but it was as if I had created a different version of myself, a powerful one that had no limits on the magic she could use, my magic,” Wanda then let out a bitter smile, “I almost killed my Y/N when she tried to reach out to me, that was what made me snapped.”

“I don't understand…” you crunched up your nose, creasing your brows while replaying the story inside your head, “what do you mean another person? Powerful? I mean, my Wanda created a whole new reality for her and…Vision.”

“Are you sure it was for him?” Wanda stepped back letting go of you, “there is something about this whole mess that has been bothering me ever since America stepped into our reality.”

“You mean, besides my consciousness being trapped in the body of your wife?” The sarcasm in your tone made Wanda roll her eyes, though this time around she did smile.

“The magic feels familiar, yet tainted. As if there was something else in there.” Wanda leaned back against the counter, “you mentioned a Scarlet and a Wanda, I was never two different people in here, I became the Scarlet Witch and owed my powers the same day I decided to fight for you and your forgiveness.”

You tensed turning away from the intense stare Wanda was shooting your way.

“I don't pretend to defend my counterpart, her sins are her own, and her demons had been chasing her far enough to leave her alone in your world,” her words crashed the barrier in your heart, and not for the first time you longed to see your Wanda and comfort her. You had seen the loneliness, the misery, and the weight of her mistakes wearing her down.

“But, have you considered perhaps Scarlet is her way to escape who she really is? That perhaps, everything comes down to this Agatha and the world Wanda created for herself?”

You couldn't answer the question that left a burning mark in your mind, the house started trembling and soon the air filled with magic. You and Wanda turned to the door where the sheer strength of the magic being used was making it tremble on its hinges. 

“What's happening?” You narrowed your eyes, your body getting ready for whatever would come out of the door. 

Wanda approached the door tentatively, her hand stretched out but before she could reach the doorknob there was a small explosion. Out of instinct, you grabbed her through the shadows putting her out of harm's way while the hall got completely destroyed. Your arms wrapped protectively around Wanda, your eyes wide open as they glanced at the woman that was kneeling beside you.

“Are you okay?” 

Wanda swallowed down, nodding, she looked away from you, turning her attention to the hall. There was no more magic, and everything was silent. The place looked trashed but otherwise the house was silent, with only remnants of humming power prickling at your skin. You couldn't help but set your eyes on Wanda, the woman holding onto you submitting to your protective embrace. 

“Loki.” There was real concern behind Wanda's voice, with some reluctance she stood up getting ready to go down the stairs when Loki finally appeared behind the threshold. 

“Loki! Are you alright?”

Wanda was on him in no time , her hand gleaming red scanned the body of the male frowning before slapping his arm. Loki scoffed, rubbing the spot she had hit, glaring at the woman.

“What was that for?”

“I told you not to trash the house!”

“Yes, well it wasn't my fault.” He stepped past Wanda, directing his eyes to you. “Tell me everything you know about Wanda and Scarlet, and what exactly do you know about this Agatha.”

You cocked your head, your nose crunching up with just a hint of hesitation in your eyes. The world might have changed in this part of the universe but Loki was still Loki; what could he do to help? What was more, why was Wanda looking at him as if he held the answers to this mess?

“We don't have time for this, but I'm not the Loki you know…” here Loki trailed off, his feet taking him to the teapot, every single moment measured and carefully designed for him to serve himself a cup of tea.

Wanda came behind you, you sensed her hesitation before she too stepped past you and joined Loki in the same activity. You couldn't believe the strangeness of this world, the obvious power these two individuals held, and the secrets behind their powers. You glanced at the mug in front of him, then at an admiring Loki.

“By mere chance, I ended up in a place where all the timelines are stories I can tamper without any effort.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his tea, “while witches and wizards everywhere need to dream walk or steal the powers to reach other realities, I can do so by stepping into the sacred timeline.”

“What is…?” You started and for the first time you saw real annoyance behind Loki's face.

“I could explain to you my part of the story, but I believe our main focus must be for you to go back to your world, and our Y/N to come back.” Loki shrugged, looking at Wanda sideways, “that's why I need you to tell me everything.”

There were many questions in your mind, but with a nod you opened your mouth telling them about your first encounter with Wanda, whatever you found out about Agatha and then the subsequent explosion that led you to this world.

___________________

Wanda was ready to hit someone.

She really was ready to give up and do something drastic. The red magic concentrated on her hand, her eyes gleaming dangerously until a soothing hand wrapped around her forearm, America was torn between being amused and slightly concerned. For what seemed weeks they had been trying to get their plan into motion but every time they got to it you were ensnared deeper into the hex Agatha had placed on you.

The days were changing slowly, instead of the temporal loop they had experimented on those first days, now it was possible to go from one day to another, different days, different scenarios. Agatha was growing stronger while Wanda and Scarlet weakened little by little.

“You told me we had to be patient.” America stated trying to block Wanda's eyes from the scene playing in front of her.

Wanda huffed looking away from you and Agatha.

“She is doing this on purpose, she keeps using Y/N by having her under a spell, and we…”

“We are working on a solution, and the solution is here.” America rolled her eyes, still not believing she was the adult at the moment.

America knew most of Wanda's reaction was jealousy, the other part was guiltiness. Whatever was happening in the basement whenever Agatha dragged Wanda down, America knew the young woman had to face things she was not ready to face. Wanda usually came from those sessions tired, drained and miserable, while it became difficult for her to handle her magic.

America pursed her lips glancing at you and Agatha, Agatha placing your hand on her abdomen while you looked at her adorably. The principal of the school and the woman America and Wanda had met the first time they arrived in Norway were smiling congratulating the happy couple.

“How did she get the…” Wanda couldn't even said it, she turned around and everyone seemed to be having a good time in the school grounds.

“Well, you told me that's what you did…”

“Her magic was not like mine, she really is draining all my powers and here I am…” Wanda turned around and walked away.

America followed her walking faster to keep up with the other woman.

“Wanda, it's going to be fine, this is what we have been waiting for, right? We got her distracted and then you tried to wake Y/N…” America then hesitated pursuing her lips, “you told me your counterpart would help, right? With the signal she would help…”

Wanda stopped her passing, she squinted her eyes before nodding curtly.

“She said she would help.” Wanda didn't want to share her concerns with America in regards to her counterpart.

When they had met, Wanda had been scared out of her mind. The woman standing before her held the full power of chaos magic while being a construct of an inexistent reality. She had spoken harshly to her, blaming her for your indifference and for you to seek out other arms to be happy. Wanda had seen her life in replay, the past and the mistakes, the pain and the wrong decisions, everything that had led her to be alone and forgotten, trapped in a hex out of her control.

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, Wanda straightened up shaking her head before offering a shaky smile.

“Let's do this.”

America smiled nodding, Wanda sighed begging to whoever was listening to her that this worked, or else, she didn't know what would happen once Agatha had gotten what she came for.

“You know what to do, right?” Wanda asked a very enthusiastic America, the young woman nodded with a smirk forming on her lips.

“Yep, please, Wanda just go for her… I know things will be okay.”

Wanda watched as America left ready to join the rest of the teenagers she had known back at school, soon she pretended to be just like everyone else trapped into the loop while Wanda sneaked around ready to reach out to you. With a single tap into her magic, she signalled Scarlet and soon she felt the surge of power going through her body as an answer. 

There was a loud bang, everyone exclaimed in surprise and soon people were laughing and clapping. While Wanda saw the subtle flickered in the reality, the purple changed into a light red. It was time. Without wasting more time, Wanda sprinted towards you spotting you right away while you laughed at some of the kids putting you away ready to show you some of their works and Agatha was distracted by the mother's asking about her pregnancy. The scene was so absurdly familiar, and stereotypical Agatha never noticed Wanda coming closer, or you walking into the school building.

The place was completely quiet, there was not much light but whatever light sneaked inside the building was enough for Wanda to locate you in the far corner of the building. Her heart skipped a beat, she glanced around knowing at any moment the reality could break and Agatha could get everything under her control.

“Y/N?” She called tentatively, you turned around with a scrunched-up nose and brows knitted together.

Your eyes met hers, and Wanda felt her breath taken away. You looked just the same, the way she remembered, with the same serious facade and the eyes filled with kindness and wonderment. She wished she could reach out to you, that she could gain your forgiveness…

The distance between the both of you shortened, but before Wanda could say anything you did something that left her and Scarlet defenceless.

You kissed her.

Wanda gave in right away, her eyes opened wide only to close slowly while she submitted herself to the kiss. Your lips on her sent an electric jolt through her body until her heart was twisting inside her chest and a hoard of butterflies exploded inside her lower abdomen. She forgot her own name, and everything stopped when your arms pulled her close and your warmth engulfed her with your teasing lips eliciting sweet whimpers of need.

For a brief moment Wanda forgot all about her past, she forgot the problem they were in and even why she had been looking for you. Wanda gave in, and kissed you back with the same tenderness, with the same need, with the same love.

“My Love, I missed you so much.” You said smiling tenderly at her, Wanda whimpered when you went back to her, your lips pressing tentatively before you pressed your forehead against hers.

“By the gods, Wanda, what's going on? Where is everyone? Billy and Tommy? Are they Okay?” You broke the kiss cupping her face in your hands, your questions soon went through her foggy mind, and Wanda felt as if a bucket of cold water fell on her.

“What?”

“Is it Pietro with them?”

Wanda felt her world crumbling around her, and you just went to kiss her again when a ball of purple mist came in between the both of you exploding and sending you flying away from Wanda.

You groaned, hitting the wall, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

“Honey, I can't take my eyes off of you or you go back to Wanda's arms, tsk even after she fucked Vision you’re like a lost dog after her “

You pressed your hands on the ground lifting your face, your brows knitted together while Agatha held onto America and Wanda. You eyed the woman in front of you, she wore a dark dress floating just above the ground with America trying to grasp for air. Agatha smirked at you, her free hand twitching slightly until Wanda fell on the ground with a purple rope tightly wrapped around her neck.

“Wanda!” You stood up stretching your hands and your eyes darkening completely, you hardened your features stopping only when you heard the groan of pain from America and Wanda.

“Nu-uh, dear, I can be quite jealous and if you even care about these two you will lower your guns and…”

You were not even thinking about the threat, you had found an opening in the hex and in the powers used by the woman in front of you. Your fingers wiggled, and the shadows went into attack mode but you weren’t the only one joining the fight without giving it a second thought. Scarlet and Wanda had been planning it all along, they knew they needed one another to bring Agatha down, the same way the did that first time but they were not counting on you.

Or, the golden and greenish spark of magic that broke into their space, the explosion that followed blinded everyone, and soon they were there no more.

_____________________

The charts and the monitors were going into overdrive, Tony was trying to fix some of the readings with Monica and Friday helping him out while Carol was standing outside the dome getting ready for action.

Yelena and Natasha stayed behind, they had been watching the fill show for more than a couple of hours watching the time passed differently entering into days and nights as if time didn’t really matter.

Yelena was chewing on her lower lip, hitting the table as soon as she saw you running towards Wanda crashing your lips against hers.

“I told you! Didn’t I?” Yelena turned to Natasha pointing an accusing finger at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes trying to go back into the scene, getting other angles only to see Agatha freezing the scene around her and grabbing America harshly by the neck. She saw the way she roughed America up, putting her to her before making her way to the school. Her eyes went from one screen to the other, this time around she noticed Scarlet breaking the chains around her arms, legs and neck, almost crawling outside the house faltering before gathering some energy.

“Yes, Yelena, you told me, you are amazing at this but…” Natasha pointed to the screens, Tony and Monica coming over shaking their heads.

“Whatever the hell is going on is…” Tony trailed off turning around to see a huge explosion affecting the dome.

The earth trembled, and soon everyone right outside was running around screaming orders in different languages.

“Guys, you need to see this!!” Carol was standing right outside the trailer, her face was completely paled, with a hint of worry in her eyes.

Natasha was about to exit but stopped when Yelena grabbed her hand, she turned to her sister to see the concern in her eyes.

“That’s not her.” Yelena was completely serious, with just a hint of fear in her tone.

“I know.”

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know, Yelena, but…”

“Hey, you two, you better come out because we just got a huge problem right now.”

Yelena scoffed turning to Tony, “what could possible be more important than the fact that was not Y/N?!”

Tony tilted his head shrugging, “perhaps the fact they just disappeared.”

“What?!”

Natasha and Yelena soon joined the rest of the team outside the trailer, the cold winter breeze of the north hit them straight in the face. The town was left almost untouched, with people on the ground being attended by the medical team; the dome had disappeared but besides some buildings being scratched and the people around being confused and left on the spots, there was nothing else indicating something strange had happened.

Natasha stepped forward watching the streets, and the sky, her heart almost leaving her chest when she turned around to see everyone looking at her. Yelena came forward as well, she crossed the street glancing around until she realized she was right in front of the street Agatha had used to name the street you were living in.

“What…what happened? Where are they?” Yelena finally asked turning to Natasha who merely shrugged just as baffled as her sister.

Instead of watching the same destruction Wanda had provoked a few months ago, what they found was a city that had been frozen in time. With all the inhabitants trying to remember what had happened, why they seemed to be a little disoriented; meanwhile, Yelena and the others had to wonder where you and the others had gone to.

“Where are they? Where is Y/N?!” Carol asked turning to Natasha and Tony. “You told me this would be fine! That you guy would find an answer before anything happened! Well, guess what, something happened!”

But there were no answers, and while everyone was fighting over what they should have done, or discussing what they should do, Yelena grunted exasperated running back into the trailer ready to get her eyes square while watching the screens. Something must be hiding in the broadcast, something she probably missed, something that would bring you safe and sound back into their reality.

At least, that’s what Yelena hoped for.

______________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Loki miscalculates and creates a vacoon in the multiverse, Wanda has to face her counterpart and two different versions of Reader, America is ready to save the day and it was Agatha all along.

[auspicioustidings]

Bannockburn

Summary: Your boyfriend Johnny has come home in a strange mood, and you are about to get your shit rocked at Bannockburn.

Technically, if you squint, a sequel to Savage set just over 700 years later. Like I will perhaps write a proper sequel at some point, but you can blame Bunny for this one.

Words: 3.6k

CW: CNC, smut, implied character death

You were getting nervous. You were getting really nervous. There were two Johnny’s and you never knew what one you were getting when he came home from a mission. Most of the time you got your Johnny, sweet and loving and tackling you to the bed with a laugh while he showed you how much he missed you. But sometimes whatever happened out on mission got his blood up. Whatever he usually did to get himself settled and out of war mode didn’t take. Sometimes you got the Savage Johnny, the one who heard your English accent and became more animal than man. The one who went into such thick Scots that you hardly understood what he was growling into your ear as he took you. 

Usually you knew what Johnny you had the moment he walked through the door. Not this time. This time he seemed like he was boiling with energy under the surface, but he kissed you nonetheless and ate dinner with you and held you as you slept. When he got you both up and packed into the car the next morning for a trip you had the sense to at least be a little worried. Now, hand held in his as you listened to the guide, you had some inkling that you might be in for it. 

“Now King Edward the second invaded as a result of Bruce’s demand to his people to recognise him as their King. He summoned 25,000 infantry and 2000 horses, the largest ever army to invade Scotland. Bruce only had command of 6000 men.”

You could feel the blood draining from your face as the guide went further into the background of the battle. Around about the time she briefly mentioned how Wallace had been hanged, drawn and quartered, limbs displayed in different cities, just shy of ten years before the Battle of Bannockburn, you absolutely knew what Johnny you had on your hands. And this Johnny? There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this Johnny. This Johnny was taking in every word, ready to punish you for your ancestors' transgressions against his. 

You were trying to pay attention, but your eyes were darting around trying to pinpoint any little nooks that might spell danger if he got you in them. Only that was dangerous in itself, because the first time you felt your attention drift from what was being said Johnny had let go of your hand and moved to instead hold you firm by the back of the neck, fingers massaging a little too hard in warning. That got you to pay rapt attention to all of it, to the whole history of the Scottish wars of Independence as it related to Bannockburn. 

It was strange sometimes, you and Johnny. There were times like now when you would be learning about the history of your countries and it felt like some long forgotten memory. There were times when you met his Lieutenant and swore you knew him from somewhere. Like there was some ancient part of you that trusted them when they fought together to watch each other's backs. No matter what Johnny you got, you held such a deep love for him that it scared you sometimes. Your heart twisted as they described what the battle would have been like for the soldiers, the sights and sounds and weapons. It must have been awful. 

You were stuck on it. Stuck on the image of a Johnny with a sword on the battlefield. That was your mistake, zoning out and just following along when he led you out to the grounds. Only when you had been walking for a while did you realise how far you were getting from the safety of a building full of people.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinae pay any attention at all did ye? Must naw have been interesting tae ye learning about how my people battered yours when they tried tae grind us intae nothing.”

“No, I was paying attention. Of course I was” you said, trying to be meek and quell some of his building fury. 

“Couldnae even hunt a bunny without some English noble claiming it wisnae our right. Punishing us” he ranted before turning to you with a feral look in his eye. “Cannae stop me from hunting one right now though can they? Ye going tae run for me wee bunny?”

Fuck. He looked ready to tear into your throat with his teeth. You felt every bit a prey animal, eyes darting around to find a way out of this. The woods. There were woods here. That was where he had been leading you while you had been busy getting stuck on the idea of him as some ancient warrior fighting to the death. Gillies Hill. The guide had told you about it, how the Scottish had made their camp here. It was where they had attacked from.

And it was where you found yourself sprinting through, heart pounding. Your logical mind knew it was a mistake, you running only meant he could chase. You should have just stayed where you were, tried to talk him down. You were stumbling and tripping, trying to get your bearings as the woods became dense around you. Every snap of a twig or sway of a branch sent you darting away in the other direction until you were shaking from exhaustion and no small amount of mounting terror.

You had never been hunted like this. Johnny had been rough with you before in the warmth of your own home, had fucked you into the bed like he was trying to mould you permanently to him. But this was a different creature entirely. This was the monster under the surface that you only caught glimpses of, that you never thought you would meet face to face. The woods were silent of another human, had you managed to escape him?

“Yer naw even trying little bunny, ye want me tae catch ye is that it? Slut.”

His breath was hot on your ear and you choked on any response you had tried to come up with. How had he gotten right behind you without a sound? You were running again, tripping and scraping your knees but clawing your way back to your feet to keep going. The little summer dress was not suited for this, but at least you were wearing boots. At least Johnny had told you to wear boots this morning. 

It was with a sickening dread that you realised he had planned this. He knew you would be running from him, knew he wanted you in a dress for easy access but boots for fleeing into the woods. At least you knew that your Johnny was still in there somewhere, enough to care about you not breaking an ankle. Not enough to care about breaking you in other ways. 

“Aww wee English princess got her knees all scraped up? All yer kinfolk are going tae ken how ye love getting on them for good Scottish cock when they see the marks. Wee whore down in the dirt fucking gagging on it, crying over how much ye love it.”

You couldn’t properly tell what direction his voice was even coming from. The shame of his words was flooding you with a sickly humiliation that only increased when your body reacted differently to how it should have. When you throbbed with need for him. 

“I’m not! That isn’t what’s happening!”

You were flustered and scared and needy and felt like you were yelling at nothing as you kept catching sight of him on your periphery only to turn and find nobody there. 

“Naw? Slick is practically running down yer plush fucking thighs princess, bet yer clenching down on nothin’. Dinnae even have tae catch ye dae I? Could just wait until ye come crawling tae me, begging me tae claim ye. Fucking pleading for it right here, right where my army celebrated before decimating yours.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine. Out here felt removed from time, it really did feel like you were betraying something by finding yourself drawn to this savage. By imagining that his prediction would prove true, that you’d beg for him. You couldn’t, it would be too much, too shameful. So you kept stumbling through the woods even when the deep tenor of his voice rang through in a mocking little song.

God he had translated this for you once. Told you that brose and butter was a euphemism, that it was about fucking a girl full of cum. It had made you blush and laugh at the time when he playfully sang it over to you now that you understood the meaning, but now? Fuck now it just scared the hell out of you with how the words were tinged with a promise. This was hardly playful, he really meant to hold you down and shove himself inside you out here in the woods where anyone could walk by. 

“We can’t! John please, not here” you pleaded, pausing to try and find where he was. “I… you were gone for months, I’ve not…”

He had made you promise before he left that you’d save yourself for him, wouldn’t even put your own fingers inside yourself while he was gone. And you hadn’t. Fuck you would be so tight now, not ready for him to take you hard. Had he known even then that this was the plan?

“Maiden are ye? Scared it’s going tae hurt, princess? It will, did they naw teach ye that we’re animals? We dinnae treat wee English lassies the way yer own men would. Ye’ll get treated the way ye should, like a fucking whore. And ye’ll take it won’t ye? Ye’ll take it wherever I want tae give it tae ye.”

Fuck, you were starting to slip away to whereever he was. You were starting to feel less like yourself and more like the poor English maiden being hunted by the enemy. The bunny being hunted by the hound. Starting to drift away into pure animal instinct, pure fear and arousal. You could hardly breathe now, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“Please…” you sobbed quietly, not even sure what you were begging for.

And then he was there, towering over you and wrapping a hand around your throat, thumb beneath your chin to tilt your head and force you to look at him. 

“Wonder whit they’d think of ye begging so pretty for the enemy. Cannae help yerself can ye?” he said, as if fascinated by you, slipping his other hand up your dress and under your panties. “Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

Your reaction to those words was violent and unexplainable. It made your legs shake and your pussy clench painfully hard. It was confusing how much it affected you, causing such a flood of wetness that Johnny noticed, his pupils dilating as he squeezed at your throat and laughed when that made you whimper and claw at his hand. He only kept on squeezing until you were starting to see stars.

“Dinnae fucking move princess.”

The pressure of his hands was gone in an instant and the flood of oxygen made you dizzy. There was no time for you to recover before he was on his knees in the dirt, treating your pussy like it was a mouth and sloppily kissing it over your panties. The press of his tongue was insistent and overwhelming, like he was trying to bully it past the fabric. When he ripped at your waistband with his teeth the lace tore. 

He continued his attack like he truly was a wolf sinking his teeth into a fresh meal, completely ruining your underwear until the mangled scraps fell to the floor and left you bare. Your hands were woven into his mohawk and you tried to pull him away, earning a growl that reverberated into your bones and a heavy handed smack to your ass before he assaulted your clit with tongue and teeth and spit. 

You felt yourself clench so hard that you almost felt nauseous. Fuck. You were trying to keep some sense of self, trying to remember that you were out in public and he was some feral version of the man you loved who was saying horrible things to you and promising he was going to hurt you. But there was a creeping haze taking over, turning you dumb for him. 

It wasn’t even something you had been aware was happening when you came on his tongue. It was just sensation, just the desperate need for more. The primal desperation to be fuller even as he pushed his tongue into your over sensitive hole while your walls fluttered through the pleasure of that high.  

“Please, need you.”

“Aye, that right? Needy wee slut.”

You were too far gone to notice that while he was rough in getting you onto your back in the dirt, one hand was gentle in cradling your head to make sure it landed softly. 

“Use those pretty wee words. Ask me for it the way ye’d ask a good English man.”

Ask me for it the way ye’d ask Simon.

When all you could do was wriggle underneath him and whine he grabbed the neckline of your dress and yanked it down to let your breasts spill out, slapping hard at one and making you howl. 

“They naw teach ye how tae talk proper ye wee slut? Ask fucking nicely.”

“Please, please I want you inside me.”

“Aye, can tell that princess. Whit else?”

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Good fucking girl, wisnae so hard now was it?”

He didn’t take any of his clothes off, just fished his hard cock from his jeans, hooked your knees on his shoulders and pressed into your wet heat in one fluid motion. You both groaned as he bottomed out. It had been so long, you were so fucking tight around him. 

“M’so full, thank you thank you ,m’yours, need you. Fuck, ah. Made for you, it’s so much” you rambled, incoherent in your bliss. 

“There she is, needed this naw? Needed my cock deep in this tight wee English cunt. Cannae be a person without it, it’s whit ye were made for. Fucking built tae be on yer back with yer legs open for me.”

He stayed like that for what felt like forever, the fullness pushing any coherent thought out of your head. Fuck he was so deep like this, with you nearly folded in half. It felt like you were choking on his dick. You were clawing at the dirt by your sides so hard that you thought your fingers might bleed, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head before they could.

You were so cock drunk that you were only distantly aware of the look in his eyes now, the almost obsessive adoration as he took in how you looked pressed into the earth like this, dress rucked up from the bottom and pulled down from the top, palm print visible from where he had slapped at you, knees by your ears, hands pinned over your head and yet despite it all so blissed out you were salivating and babbling at him how you needed him.

When he pulled all the way out to the tip and then slammed back home you choked on the wind being knocked right out of you. It only encouraged him as he started to fuck you hard and deep, taking him time to make sure every thrust settled him so incredibly deep inside of you that you were floating. 

“Braw wee creature aren’t ye? Feart of me and gagin’ fer it anyway. Dinnae fash bonnie, gettin’ yer hole proper.”

You knew vaguely that he was close because you could hardly understand what he was saying. You were so unable to do anything in this position, no leverage on your arms and legs that you could use to pull him closer. 

“Inside, need it inside. Please, please ah!” you cried, no shame left in so as you begged like a bitch in heat for him to cum inside you. 

He shifted and sped his pace, nailing that spongy spot inside you that was making your vision black out with every thrust. You’d have marks on you from the buttons and zipper of his jeans. You’d have marks on your throat and your wrists, on your tits. He needed more, he needed anyone to take one look at you and know who you belonged to.

“‘at’s it, take it. Fuck. Good lass” he groaned as he sunk his teeth into your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, clamping down on his cock.

He jackhammered into you, forcing his way in while your pussy tried to force him out. The tight heat of it was too much and he growled and stilled after one more brutal thrust had him cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, the painful stretch from being folded as you were a delicious burn with the extra pressure forcing you to stretch further. 

You stayed like that for a while, both panting. Only when you were slowly coming back to your senses did you feel a sharp pain in your back from what must have been a particularly jagged stone. Ah, you thought you were probably bleeding on it, feeling something sticky. 

“Bannockburn” you breathed out softly.

The pressure was off of you almost immediately and he let go of your wrists and kneeled up, pulling out with a soft sigh leaving both of you at the feeling. He was quick to tuck himself in before his hands were back on you, gentle this time, fixing your dress and rubbing at all the spots he had marked.

“C’mere bonnie, ye did so well. Hurting anywhere I need tae look at?”

He looked at your back when you told him, laying soft kisses of apology on you as he cleaned it up. You used to tease Johnny for the little first aid kit he always had strapped to the back of his jeans whenever you went out, but it was coming in incredibly handy. Your panties were toast and he sheepishly tucked the remnants of them into his pocket before getting you to unsteady feet. 

“Creeping Jesus, I’ve made a right mess out of ye” he said with a bashful sort of grin, doing his best to try and fix your hair. 

“Hmm, s’ok” you replied, still a little hazy. 

He kissed you soundly and then gave you an absolute squeeze of a cuddle before scooping you into his arms in a princess carry.

“Let’s get ye all tucked up in the car then we can have a bath and dinner when we’re home eh?”

You nodded and nuzzled into his chest to get comfortable. He would take care of you, he always did.

–

John MacTavish didn’t know how he got so lucky. Not any woman would be softly dozing off in his arms after what he had just put you through. Fuck you were beautiful all of the time, but when you were like this? Fucked out and marked up but achingly soft for him in the afterglow? Jesus, he loved you. He would love you forever, through lifetimes. 

He’d explain obviously, he should really have warned you how hard he was going to go, that should have been pre-negotiated. But he had been so wound up. Fucking Simon Riley and his little comments about you, winding him up by putting thoughts in his head about how demure an English man could get you. It should have just made him laugh and shove at him, instead it made his blood boil and his cock hard and he had taken it out on you. You had let him, you always did until either of you thought it wasn’t safe. 

He paused on his way out of the woods with you, considering waking you so you could see the little glade he had come upon. It was pretty as anything, almost felt like hallowed ground with a giant stone right in the middle. Something about it called to an ancient longing within him. Fuck. He wanted to marry you out here. Was that ridiculous? Maybe just post orgasm stupidity.

Still as he settled you in the car and took you home so he could love you properly, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

–

“Fuck, Johnny.”

Simon Riley was an Englishman through and through. Everytime he stepped into battle it was to strike down those who would oppose his King and country. Yet he had left the battlefield. He had tracked into the woods, to where he knew MacTavish had crawled off to die. He found him leant against the stone that sat in the centre of a glade. Of course this is where he would want to die. Not on the battlefield, but here. The place he had married you. The place they both had.  

“Ye come tae watch it for yerself Si?” Johnny said with a laugh that turned to a hacking cough. 

“Course. Been trying to kill you for years, not about to miss it.”

Simon sat next to him, both of them looking at the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful here. Maybe in another lifetime they would not have been enemies. Maybe in another lifetime they could have been brothers.

“Ye’ll look after her until I can find her again?”

“Always.”

[winterrrnight]

secret admirer (reader's pov)

PAIRING: high schooler!soft!rafe cameron x high schooler!fem!reader

SUMMARY: the reader has a secret admirer who drops letters, flowers and some other little souvenirs in their locker.

WARNINGS: a lot of cliches, falling down and getting wounded, and some fluffy fluff :) if I missed something let me know! Please ignore any grammatical/spelling errors

EDITH SPEAKS: buckle up bffs because this is long!! Please note the following before you read:

both reader and Rafe are well versed in French.

The French translations are given side by side in the oneshot.

I don't speak French so everything has been gathered from the internet. If there are any mistakes, please let me know.

I'm not American so I've had a very different high school experience: I never had detentions in our school. So everything has been written based upon what I've seen in American shows :)

And that's it! I hope you enjoy reading, please like and/or reblog to show your love <3 feedback is highly appreciated! 💐

UPDATE: I have made a whole secret admirer universe! The link of its masterlist is given below <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests || series masterlist

As the class comes to an end, you walk out and go to your locker. You dial in your locker combination, and just as you open it, an envelope falls out and drops in the ground.

Confused, you bend down and pick it up. The envelope is plain white, and its flap is glued at place. You pull open on the flap, and find a folded piece of letter inside.

"Oooooo what's that?" Your friend says, smiling. "Looks like a love letter."

You shake your head. "I doubt it's a love letter," you say as you unfold your paper. A single sentence in cursive writing is scrawled on the paper. It takes you a second to realise it's written in French.

Je rêve de toi.

It translates to "I dream of you".

Who can write this to you? Thoughts clink around your mind like ice in a glass of water. Suddenly, you feel something drop out of the envelope. You look down at the floor, curious.

It's a little daisy.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Since then, a little gift always awaits for you in your locker every few days. Every time it's a letter with a simple sentence in French written on it in fountain pen. It's accompanied with a little flower, or a small piece of chocolate, and one time, it was a bracelet.

You've tried your best to figure out who's been sending you these. No one in class has flirted with you, so you don't even have any options to consider. The thought that someone secretly likes you does make your heart swoon, but at the same time it also concerns you. What if it's someone pulling jokes on you, just playing with your delicate heartstrings? You really hope it isn't the second one, because if it is, it will leave you heartbroken in a way you've never been heartbroken.

But you can't deny the smile the letters bring on your face. You collect the flowers and press them in between the pages of your journal. Every chocolate you've received so far is the kind you like, which makes you wonder how does this person know what kind of chocolates you are into. And the bracelet, well, it's tied securely around your wrist.

You reach school, and with hope in your heart filled to the brim, you open your locker. The smile on your face is as bright as the stars when you see an envelope.

Before you can open it, the ringing of the bell makes you look up. The first class has started and you're still in the hallway.

"Shit," you curse, as you hurriedly throw the envelope in your bag and rush to your English class. The scene in the class will not be pretty: your teacher isn't fond of late comers. Well, saying he isn't fond of them is an understatement. He hates their guts.

With your heart beating faster than the speed of light, you look through the small gap in the door of the class. Your teacher is extremely punctual, and as always, the class has started. He's walking around the class, handing your previous tests. You take in a deep breathe and open the door. The sound of the door opening makes everyone look up at you.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up," your teacher says, passive aggressiveness laced in his voice.

"I'm, I'm sorry, it won't happen again-"

"Oh looks like we have another late comer," your teacher says, cutting you off. Confused, you turn around to see Rafe Cameron standing behind you. His uniform shirt isn't buttoned properly; random buttons connected to the wrong holes, his belt is missing, and his hair is messed up. He looks like he just woke up.

You feel your cheeks heat up from the warmth of his body. He's standing right behind you, and if you walk a millimetre back, you would crash right into him.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I set an alarm but it didn't ring and-" Rafe starts to ramble.

"DETENTION! Both of you!" Your teacher yells. You flinch at his sudden loud voice. He signs two detention slips and hands those to the both of you. He dismisses you swiftly by closing the door on your faces.

You look down at the detention slip in your hand and sigh. You look up at Rafe to see he's looking at you. You break your small eye contact with him and look at your shoes.

"Shall we go?" He asks you. You nod at him, still not looking at him. In silence, you both walk to the detention room. It's just a classroom which isn't in use anymore. Your PE teacher is the one who will be supervising you. When you reach the classroom, you're surprised to see it's only you and Rafe in the detention. Usually it's around 5 - 10 students at this time in detention.

The teacher is inside, his nose buried in a magazine. He doesn't lift his head up when you and Rafe and walk in, and take adjacent seats. Only when you both sit down, the teacher lifts an eye to see you both.

"Just two of you?" He says, and you nod. "Well that's going to be a waste of my time." He closes his magazine, drops it on the table and stands up from his chair.

"I'll be here in an hour to let you both out. Don't do anything dumb, you're being watched." He says, leaving the classroom and closing the door behind him.

It gets extremely silent in the room, it's so silent that you can hear a pin drop. Your breathing is the only sound filled in the room, along with the constant ticking of the clock hanging on a wall.

You can't believe you're in a class room all alone with Rafe Cameron. It's pretty much given away that he's the most popular guy in your school, and not because he's the jock and only sleeps around with everyone, but because he's an actual sweetheart. He's nice to everyone, and has the most beautiful personality. One thing you know for sure is that if someone gets to date him, he will treat them like a royal.

You decide to finish up with some school work you're left with. As you open your bag, you notice the envelope you had completely forgotten about. Eagerly, you pull it out and open it. Today, there's no souvenir in it. Only a folded piece of paper.

You unfold it, and instead of the usual one line, there are multiple. You read them slowly, as you also translate them in your mind.

Votre âme est un paysage choisi

Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques

Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi

Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques

It takes you some fair amount of time to translate the verse. This is what you come up with:

Your soul is a moonlit landscape fair,

Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,

That play on lutes and dance and have an air

Of being sad in their fantastic trim

It suddenly clicks you: the verse if from Claire de Lune. You smile at the French written on the paper, and just read it over and over again in your head.

"What's that?" You suddenly remember that Rafe is right next to you.

"Nothing," you say, folding the paper and putting it back in it's envelope.

"Looks like a love letter, someone's been writing you love letters?" He asks, curiosity in his eyes. You take a few seconds to give him a reply.

"Maybe?"

"What do you mean, maybe?"

You sigh. "I've been receiving these letters which have poetry in French written in them. They usually come along with a little gift, like a small flower or some chocolate. But, there's no name on the paper whatsoever, so I have no way of knowing who is it, if it's legit or if someone is playing a prank on me."

"I don't think it's a prank, you know." You look up at him. He's gazing at you intently.

"You don't?"

He shakes his head. "Someone maybe likes you a lot, and is, i don't know, scared to admit it to you."

"But, why do you think it's not a prank? And how are you so sure it is an actual love letter?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that it can be an actual love letter? That someone actually likes you a lot? You're an amazing person, don't decline the thought of someone being your admirer so easily."

At these words leaving Rafe's mouth, you have a small hunch that maybe he's the one writing these letters.

Oh no, he can't be the one. You shake the thought out of your head. He's the most popular guy in the whole school, he can choose anyone, why in hell would he choose you? What does he see in you?

You've never been the one to be in the spotlight, you've always lurked in the shadows. So, when the letters started coming, you did want to believe that you have an admirer. That you are worth of being loved by someone deeply. But you find this thought too good to be true, so you instead believe it's just a prank.

You aren't sure how to respond to Rafe's words. All that slips your lips is a small thank you. You direct your focus back to your schoolwork on hand.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It's been a week to the detention. Since then, instead of every other day, the letters have been appearing every single day. This morning, you had a bigger envelope than usual. The size of the letter inside is the same, but there are more gifts than usual. Instead of the usual single flower, you have a daisy chain. There are many chocolates instead of one, and there are two new bracelets.

At this point, you are starting to get a lot more concerned than before. Someone's out there spending money on getting you chocolates and bracelets, and you don't even know how to thank them for it; you can only do that if you know who the person sending you these gifts is.

You keep the little gifts in your locker and take the letter. As usual, there is one line scrawled on the centre of the page, the cursive handwriting perfect as it is each time.

Je vous souhaite d'être follement aimée.

"My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness." You whisper. You softly trace the words on the paper with your fingertip.

"Who are you?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

The sky has suffused into hues of pinks and oranges, and you get on your bike. You're on your way to your favorite place: the strawberry field. You found that field when you were cycling around the area at the mere age of 6. Since then, you absolutely love going to that place at all times. The heavenly scent of strawberries will be settled all around the field, especially due to them being in season.

You reach the field in a few minutes. You take your bike to the small trail in the field, which is accompanied by perfectly manicured bushes of strawberries around it. Following the trail leads to a massive opening right in the middle of the field, which has a big tree planted in it. You love to pluck the strawberries and then sit under the shade of the tree as you eat them and watch the sunset.

Just as you reach the tree, you notice something unusual. There is a notepad, along with a bottle of ink and a fountain pen. You look around to see if you can spot the owner of the stuff. A sudden rustle in the bushes a little farther on your right increases the rate of your heartbeat. The sound of the rustling increases with each passing second, and suddenly, a head pops out.

Your eyes widen at the sight. "Rafe?" You ask, completely dumbfounded. Rafe is holding a basket full of the ripe strawberries. He's wearing a button up paired with a simple pair of trousers. The sleeves of the button up are rolled up to his elbows and you notice sweat shining on his forehead and his neck.

"Oh, hey," he says, completely frozen in the spot. None of you are able to comprehend the current situation at hand.

"I didn't expect to see you here, what are you doing here?" You question.

"Nothing, just... just getting some of these strawberries. I've heard they're really good," he says, coming out of the bushes. He walks up to you, and stands right in front of you, not leaving much distance between you two.

"How did you... how did you find out about this place? I come here almost every single day and I never see you here. Why suddenly today?"

You need to know why he's here. You need to know why does he have that notepad and a fountain pen. The hunch you had the other day, the one which you dug deep in your heart because you just believed it isn't true, is starting to come back up.

Rafe is just standing there, looking at you. He doesn't have anything to say. While you're waiting impatiently for him to tell you everything. You don't want to believe your gut feeling unless you have a concrete proof of it.

"Why do you have that notepad with you, with that fountain pen?" You swallow the lump in your throat.

"For you. It's all for you. It's all always been for you." He whispers. You feel like you're frozen right at your position. "These," he says, pointing to the strawberry basket, "these are for you too."

"But... why me?" You mumble. Your mind doesn't want to believe this. No, this can't be true. The person who everyone will fall on their knees for can choose anyone, but instead he chose you.

"Because," he walks closer to you, places a finger under your chin and gently pushes it up so you can look him right in his eyes, "I want you to know how special you are. You deserve nothing but love, and this is just me showing you that." His hand is now on your cheek, and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the warmth of his hand.

"But-"

"No buts. I told you this before too, why are you not willing to believe that you are so worthy of being loved and appreciated? That there is someone who's ready to do this all for you. I could've just come up to you and confessed how I have fallen for you, but that wouldn't be special now, would it? That's what everyone does. And then my purpose of showing you that I'm not like everyone else and how I will shower you with love every single second of my life is defeated. I will bring you the moon, all you have to do is just ask." Rafe says, his voice nothing but a whisper.

But this isn't enough for you. You need to know what he sees in you. You need explanations on why he's doing so much just to see you happy.

"Why me?" It slips out of your mouth, because your mind won't relax unless you hear it all from Rafe's mouth.

"Do you remember kindergarten?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe runs to the swings, a big smile on his face as he finally gets to use it. The swings are never empty, but now he has the chance of getting to take a ride on them.

But, just as he sits down on the swing, a group of boys approaches him. They are all a year older than him, and they love to pretend they own the place.

"Hey! Give us the swing!" The head of the group, Greg demands. Rafe starts to feel scared, but he doesn't show it on his face.

"No!" He says firmly, his grip tightening on the swing. With just a small nudge of his head, Greg motions the boys of the group towards Rafe. They grab onto his shoulders and forcefully throw him off the swing. Rafe screams and feels tears stream down his eyes in pain. But, no teacher is around to help him. Greg laughs in his face and goes to his new found victory: the swing.

You see it all unfold from the side. You are sitting in the grass all alone. That's where you are every single day, because you don't mix in well with the other kids. When you see Rafe hurt, you rush up to him.

He's still crying when you reach to him. You do nothing, all you do is offer him your hand. Rafe suddenly stops crying and grabs ahold of your hand and with all the strength in your little body, you pull him up. You take him to the teacher.

The teacher gasps at Rafe's condition: teary eyes with dust all over his face and clothes, and two wounds each on his knees. You stand on the side as the teacher gets the first aid kit and starts to treat his wounds. You can't look when Rafe whines at the burning feeling of the antiseptic liquid against his knees. At that moment, all you wanted was to swap places with him so he doesn't have to go through this all.

Once his wounds were all covered in bandaids, you take him to your table in the classroom. From your bag, you pull out your favorite lolipop and hand it to him. Rafe looks at you and the lolipop with wide eyes.

"You are so brave," you say, as you nudge the candy closer to him.

"Thank you," Rafe says, accepting the lolipop from you.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

"From that day, I've never stopped looking at you. As we grew older, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with, and I wanted to reciprocate all that you've done for me. It's not just the lolipop, throughout all the years you've been there for me when no one else was, I just don't want you to think that your efforts go unappreciated." Rafe finishes.

You remember it all really well. All the times in kindergarten when you gave him your food because he dropped his on the ground, when you cut his craft paper for him because he just wasn't able to cut in a straight line the way you can, or when you gave him a pencil each time he forgot one at home.

"Rafe..." You say, starting to feel little tears blur your vision. Before you can hide them from him, Rafe is quick to reach his hands out to your cheeks and to wipe them off.

"This is nothing compared to what you've done for me, those chocolates, little verses of poetry, bracelets," his eyes goes to the bracelet you're wearing, "they don't amount to the things you've done for me in any way. But I just want to show you how amazing you are, and how you deserve the nicest things in the world."

You don't want to hear anything else. You press your lips against his. It takes a second for Rafe to process what's happening. Your arms are quick to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips move against his.

You pull back softly and lean your forehead against his.

"Je t'aime. Aujourd'hui. Ce soir. Demain. Pour toujours. Su je vivais mille ans, he t'appartiendrais pour tous. Si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chaacune d'elles." He whispers, his eyes closed.

"I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover

(if you want to be added, check out the 'join my taglist' post linked at the top! + send in requests if you have any!)

[meddwlyngymraeg]

Vocabulary - to want

A few different ways (that I know) to express wishes and desires.

eisiau - to want. One of the standard ways of saying you want something, all across Wales. In truth, it’s not actually a verbnoun like many others, it’s really a noun. That’s why you don’t need the ‘yn’ before it ad you would for any other verbnoun: ‘yn mynd’, ‘Dwi’n mynd’. ‘Dyn ni’n aros.’ Etc.

‘Dwi eisiau cysgu.’ I want to sleep.

I believe the reason for this is an older construction that is used in literary Welsh, but that got shortened and dropped off over time in colloquial Welsh. ‘bod ... ar [rhywun]’ was the construction used, roughly meaning to have ‘a want upon you’ (very roughly).

Double checking this with Wiktionary (beloved), they do have a credible literary source demonstrating this: the Welsh bible (which thanks to a frenzied linguistics and orthography-fuelled spiral down Wikipedia, and oddly enough, the Welsh comedian and radio broadcaster Elis James (unrelatedly), I know was first translated in the 1500s and directly led to the loss of the letter ‘k’ from the Welsh alphabet).

‘Yr Arglwydd yw fy Mugail; ni bydd eisiau arnaf.’ The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Close enough to colloquial Welsh to understand, that's using ‘eisiau arna (i)’. Over time, colloquial Welsh has dropped the ‘ar’. The example sentence above could've been 'Dwi eisiau cysgu [arna i]'.

A note. Some people have a misconception that eisiau should cause a soft mutation in the word following it, because it is an exceptional case of an action (of sorts) that doesn’t need an ‘yn’, and so must follow a pattern similar to a few other conjugations out there like ‘dylu’ (should).

‘Dylet ti ddweud rhywbeth’ (You should say something), ‘Galla i wneud rhywbeth amdano fe’ (I can do something about it), ‘Ga i rywbeth?’ (Can I have something?), the past tenses of gwneud, ‘wnaethon ni ddysgu Cymraeg’, ‘Mae rhaid iddyn nhw dduhino’n gynnar!’ (They must wake up early!)

And so on. This isn’t the case, as eisiau is not a conjugated verb. It’s just a noun for desire! (*not exactly. I’m trying to explain this as best I can)

There is a south Walian usage of ‘eisiau’ that makes this idea clearer.

In some southern dialects, the construction ‘mae eisiau i…’ is used to mean that someone needs something. E.g. ‘Mae eisiau i ti fwyta’ means ‘you need to eat’. What it literally means is ‘there is a need for you to eat’, and so you can see the noun eisiau (a need) in use.

North Walian Welsh uses the same structure, but with the noun angen instead. ‘Mae angen i ti fwyta.’ ‘Mae angen iddyn nhw sosban’, literally, ‘they are in need of a saucepan’.

Speaking of dialect differences, especially in north Wales Welsh, you might come across spelling variants of eisiau: ‘isio’, ‘isia’, (N) ‘isie’ (S), ‘isho’, etc. Perks of a phonetic language are that nothing’s a misspelling really if it sounds alright when said out loud. I did raise an eyebrow at the last one a little, ‘sh’ isn’t the English ‘sh’ in Welsh, is it? (Is that Wenglish?)

Other forms!

moyn - to want. Used pretty much only in the south and valleys, but this one is a regular verbnoun. ‘Dwi’n moyn cwpla fy ngwaith gytre’n fuan’ (I want to finish my homework soon)

(Just realised there are a Lot of dialect words in that sentence! Cwpla -> gorffen, gytre -> cartef)

It seems simpler than the exceptional eisiau construction, why isn’t it more widely accepted?, you ask. (Most people I’ve said it to say it immediately places you geographically to them because they never hear anyone else say it.) It derives from an older verb, ymofyn, which itself comes from the word gofyn (to ask), ‘ym’ + ‘gofyn’ = ‘ymofyn’, which sort of goes away from the original idea of wanting, and into one of asking. Still, language evolves, and so you will still hear moyn in South Wales. In fact, the Say Something In Welsh course teaches it (which is how I know it. Probably worth giving a disclaimer that I’m simply mad about linguistics and Welsh alternative bands, before anyone starts to think I live in Wales just because I occasionally write long grammar posts!)

Awydd - a desire. Used similarly to eisiau, no ‘yn’ precedes it. The whole point of making this post was that I just came across this sentence: ‘Ti awydd mynd i Gastell Caerfili?’ Meaning, do you want to go to Caerphilly Castle?

And those are the ones I know!

[wandixx]

Justice League never helped Amity Park.

Why?

They genuinely didn't need any help, it was one of the most normal and safe town in America.

Other than Jack Fenton on the road hazard but it's not like he can break walls with his orange jeep, is it? It's too little to get JL on it.

Okay, so what does Phantom do right outside of the Watchtower drinking Capri sun? Is it related to how horrified Flash is, running around meeting room like he tries to wear down the floor?

Why yes, absolutely. You see dear traveler, Ghost child is just not from this timeline.

He is from the other one. The intense one. The one, where Amazonians were at war with Atlanteans, where there was no line Batman wouldn't cross, where doctors Fenton didn't stop their research after their dearest friend had accident.

Yeah, that's the one. One that Barry created by saving his mother and the one he allegedly destroyed.

How do they tell the stressed ghost child that timeline he lived in ceased to exist?

*~*~*

Maybe I'm not clear enough but yeah. Phantom is from other timeline but as I heard, Dan shoved time medalion into Danny's chest so now our boi has wonky relationship with time. When Barry erased "wrong timeline", Danny got yote into his time and was confused. Like, one day he wakes up in the middle of the nowhere because of some shit and isn't even surprised at first but then realises something is off. Especially when he gets to the nearest town. Things are all sorts of wrong, like:

There is less ambient ectoplasm in the air.

Meme references are just not right.

There is no supernatural war.

Nobody is trying to post mortem murder him for being a ghost.

There are a lot more heroes and the ones he knew are different, like, why is Batman suddenly so much against killing?

So he goes of to find Amity and see which one's of the ghosts bullshit he has to clean up this time, only to see his city... Normal? Happy even? No broken pavements or anti ghost tech? No teenage stans? No alive food? His parents are more of the local handymen than mad scientists?! There is SECOND HIM, who isn't a ghost in the slightest?!

WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED AND HOW DOES HE FIX IT?!

Because yeah, this world seems nicer than real one, but he just can't stay here. Ghosts are probably wrecking havoc in his Amity again and he needs to get back now.

Just question is how, because it starts to look like whole new world and not some weird hallucination or Desiree doing her shit again. However so much things is similar that he assumes it's different timeline. He dealt with these before, once, but he managed. He just needed to find this Clockwork guy that showed up last time and learn what he has to do to fix it.

Wait, his parents here didn't made portal and Vlad didn't either because they're actually kind of trisome (ew) and he didn't have enough time. That's alright, Danny was raised in the shadow of the portal, he knew everything about it by heart. He could built it on his own.

Wait, portal needs and sacrifice. Can he use this world's himself as a sacrifice? He could probably ask these heroes for help but on the other hand he really doesn't want to do this to him. Being Phantom majorly sucks ass and he is jealous but he knows better than to destroy other his life over it.

Before he can resolve his dilemma, something he does pings Justice League's radar and Flash is send to investigate. Thank ancients it's him because allegedly other heroes wouldn't really get it. But it was Flash who somehow gets at least part of it, gives him a food and takes him to the space station (in space!). Now they have meeting about him and he has best view of stars he could ever imagine. Even though they're a little different than he remembers from back home.

.

Hope you enjoyed this little idea and maybe can add to the shenanigans. Comments and reblogs are whole yours.

I hope I'm englishing correctly and won't see too many spelling or grammatical mistakes when I wake up in the morning

Have a great whatever part of day it is to you

[jcollinswrites]

Somehow in all the time I've followed this blog I never realised Ahmose was gender selectable. Time to go through the asks and make another MC then.

😂😂😂 Feel free to do that! But yes, Ahmose is very much gender-selectable.

Fun fact, Ahmose was officially a unisex name in Ancient Egypt. Men and women could both get that name (there were actually lots of names like that). It means something like "born from the Moon". The moon god was Iah (pronounced like yaah), so the original name was probably closer to Iahmes or Iahmos. I have no idea where the English "Ahmose" spelling came from. Maybe Greek?

Ahmose's gender will also change a few things in the story, unlike with other gender-selectable characters. For example, a female Ahmose is not the direct heir to the throne, but they are ONE of the official heirs. Narmer has nephews too, and they are first-in-line in that case, Ahmose only comes after them. The MC's gender who is romancing a female Ahmose will also have different consequences later. Not romance-breaking consequences, but... things... might turn out... differently... for the MC in the future, especially if the MC happens to be a man 👀👀👀

[hearted-anon]

"Deer" or "Dear"?

Words: 1050 Note: this duo has me T/w: slightly rough tickling we know changbin could NEVER, lots of fluff Tag list: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya-apollos-kid @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one Lee: Seungmin Ler: Changbin

Changbin hummed in thought, marker in hand as he struggled to think of how to start his birthday letter to Chan. Knowing that the leader really loved being in Sydney and with their upcoming tour there, he wanted to write the entire letter in English, hoping to give him some sort of a reminder of his hometown to quell his homesickness. Despite this, he struggled to find the difference between ‘deer’ and ‘dear’, gnawing at his lower lip in anxiety.

“Hyung ah, don’t look so tense, what’s wrong?” The elder almost jumped off his seat when he heard a sudden voice behind him, wanting to scramble to hide the card that he had spent at least an hour trying to draw the cover, which consisted of Berry and Chan hugging each other. Once he realised that it was indeed not the receiver of his gift, he relaxed slightly, dawning on him that it was none other than Seungmin that had waltzed in. He swung himself onto a nearby chair, pulling himself over towards the rapper before taking in the meticulously hand-crafted drawing, cooing at the Dwaekki as his cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Stop teasing me! I’m your Hyung y’know?!” Changbin yells with no bite behind it, puffing up his cheeks before deflating. Seungmin only gives a light chuckle, moving closer and noticing that there was nothing written on the card at all. Curious, he pries at his Hyung about the mystery behind such a well-drawn card, raising a suspicious eyebrow at the way Changbin anxiously stammers over his words, poor excuses like 'it's for a surprise!', or 'nothing much, felt like drawing…' not getting by Seungmin's knowing glare. Eventually, unable to take the continuous prodding anymore, Changbin finally admits who the card is for, his ears now glowing red along with his cheeks when Seungmin smiles warmly at the gesture.

"Cute and all, but why's there nothing written on it yet?" The vocalist questions, skimming his fingers onto the thick and smooth paper, feeling his nails satisfyingly scratching over the glitter to highlight Berry's ears and brown fur wherever else gently. He listens as he hears Changbin's struggle with telling the difference between the two words, wanting to suggest another alternative to make it simpler for the poor producer's brain, seeing how he genuinely looked torn apart with his lack of understanding for English. However, he had other plans…

"Ahh, how about you try 'deer'? It's the correct one, really!" Seungmin enthusiastically gets out, even emphasising his point by creating antlers with his fingers, a wide smile on his face. And to his utter shock, Changbin actually managed to take the bait, hurriedly writing down said word as if it was sacred to him. Something twinged in the puppy's heart afterwards, but he figured seeing his Hyung so happy, practically envisioning a tail behind him wagging excitedly, was much more worth it for the potential scolding he was going to get from the leader for teaching his own elder all the wrong things.

"Wait…deer is the animal, you tricked me!" Seungmin snickers in mischievous glory when he hears Changbin suddenly yell out in surprise, pouting as he sullenly grabs the eraser to change his mistake. Playing the obviously fake caretaker role, he runs a soft hand through the rapper's hair, telling him that it was definitely 'alright', despite the spelling mistake being completely his fault. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Changbin simply glares at him in a prolonged silence, something that makes the vocalist freeze in his tracks and stare back the same way, getting lost in each other's gaze for some time.

"I mean- what can I say- Hehehey!" The younger is cut off when he's suddenly tackled to the ground, and fingers begin to skitter up his sides. Giggles bubble up in his throat, and before he knows it, Seungmin's giggling helplessly on the ground, trying to shove a determined Changbin off him. It's no use however, as he feels like a boulder that had gotten stuck into a ditch; impossible to remove in the slightest. Changbin purses his lips for a moment, contemplating, thinking of what to say. Something teasing? Serious? Seungmin could never tell what went through his mind.

"Well, I'm just congratulating you for teaching me the right thing!" Changbin deadpans, fingers venturing to the sides of the vocalist's stomach for digging into the soft area. The squeal it elicits stuns the older for a brief moment, relishing in the breathless cackles that flow from Seungmin's mouth as he thrashes uselessly under the older. To him, Seungmin's laughter was always unique somewhat, sounding pleasing to the ears, never too loud to break someone's eardrums but soft enough to sound like absolute heaven; Changbin could just sit here and tickle the puppy forever and ever.

"Aha- Hyuhuhung plehehease! I-It's tohoho much!" Seungmin whines pitifully, and by whatever force Changbin has in him he stops, he never has the courage to go further than when the members beg for mercy; it feels like he crosses too many lines for his principals to be considered ethical. Rubbing the puppy's stomach tenderly, he ignores how Seungmin dramatically groans but yet still snickers and leans into the hand anyway, another hand laying a cup of water next to the vocalist's head. The younger stares up at the older, who went back to frantically scribbling onto his handmade card, and the smile that grazes his face is nothing more than of fond adoration, how Changbin loved to go the extra mile for his members never ceased to be the sweetest ever.

"Changbin~ I heard something was for me?" Chan coos as he steps into the room hours later, a red faced Seungmin behind him. It was presumed that a certain bunny had snitched onto the rapper's plans, and being the curious leader he was, he had to know what was going on! Eyes widening, he saw Seungmin gesturing to the back door of the office, and grabbing the card swiftly, he bolted all the way out of the room, a grinning, giggling elder following down the hallway.

It was rumored that Chan cried many tears of happiness when Changbin was caught, not after the poor younger was wrecked into a million pieces, snoring away on the elder's thighs.

[f1amboyant]

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

✄ what’s your editing process? (i loooove hearing about people's writing and editing processes)

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

💕💕

Hiiii, thank you for the ask 💕

-> ask me more

✄ what’s your editing process?

Interesting question! I'm gonna answer with my writing process a bit, because both are intertwined (and you said you love hearing about writing process, too 🫣)

So for short fics (under 2k I would say), I mostly write the whole thing in one or 2 sittings, with no plan, just an idea in my head. And when it's done I edit multiple times. A first reread to adjust some details here and there, make a few sentences flow better. And then I do a spelling check, with 2 different softwares because English is not my first language so I want to get it covered.

For longer fics, I plan the whole story, I plan the chapters, I plan the scenes. Then I write scene by scene, usually in order. For each scene, I first write it very badly. I write the scene, fast and bad, not caring about beautiful sentences. The idea is just to put words on the page and to block the scene (like in movies). When this part is done, I go back and I edit a first time, going over all this poorly written scene to write beautiful sentences (or as beautiful as I can do), to make it readable, basically. Then, since it's a long fic and that some ideas might have pop up in the middle of nothing, I do one or 2 full reread, to adjust everything, make sure everything is coherent, make sure the character doesn't realise he is in love 3 times in 3 different chapters, go back to foreshadow an idea that popped in a later chapter, things like that. And then I can do a spell check on each chapter and that's it! ✨

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

Easiest: Corset ~ The words just flew out of me, and it greatly helped that @moossings worked on their drawing at the same time as I wrote, so I just had to put their sketches into words and that was so much fun.

Hardest: Steal your art (and your heart) ~ The first chapters were so much fun and so easy to write, I wasn't prepared for the enormous block that fell on me halfway through it. Writing the last chapters was so so hard, for no particular reason. I was lucky I had my dear @drspleenmeister writing with me 🫶

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

Oooooooh, that's an interesting one. The Worst Alpha is omagaverse charlos, with alpha Charles experiencing omega Carlos' heat for the first time and having a whole crisis about if he is or not a good alpha. And truly, I think Oscar would fit that role pretty well too.

Oscar is an Alpha who grew with omega sisters. He knows what it is to be an omega. In theory. But he's never been with an omega. So it's all pretty new. And also, he has this massive crush on Carlos, because damn, have you seen that man?? Oscar was doomed from the start. But he's trying to act like a good alpha and not get overbearing with the omega he fancies, so he stays mostly away.

Then Lando shenanigans, probably. Maybe Lando does it on purpose or maybe not, but it makes Carlos and Oscar meet. Maybe, Carlos is in heat, and he usually goes to omega Lando for comfort during his heat but Lando isn't answering. And when Carlos goes to Lando's room, he finds Oscar there because Oscar is waiting for Lando to return too (maybe Lando asked him over and then forgot, or something like that).

It hits Oscar. The smell. Powerful. And so so sweet. Mouthwatering. Oscar is losing his fucking mind.

"Oh sorry, I thought this was Lando's room."

"You're in heat."

"Pff, this guy," Carlos huffs. "I know, that's why I'm looking for Lando."

"He's not here," Oscar answers unhelpfully, but his brain is completely fried. There's Carlos in the room with him. Carlos in heat. Oscar is gonna die.

"Well, tell him to call me if you see him."

Carlos starts to leave but Oscar stops him.

"Do you need help? With your heat? Until Lando comes back," Oscar offers.

"Sure." Carlos has never been with an Alpha before but this one smells pretty nice and also, he is tired of waiting for Lando, so why not? He's not afraid of a little Alpha rookie.

So they spend a little time together, in Lando's room. It's awkward as fuck. Carlos borrows a hoodie from Lando and sits on the couch, to play some game. Oscar stays with him and offers to help, getting him heat supplies that he steals from Lando (he doesn't care). He doesn't really know what to do, how to feel. It's never been like that in his family. Oscar is a pretty decent Alpha, but he never had to fight the urge to bend this Omega in half and fuck him senseless. But yeah, that's what's happening now. He is losing his mind.

He keeps his wit enough to half ass taking care of Carlos until Lando comes back and saves them from the awkwardness. Except after that Oscar can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about Carlos. If he had a crush before, this gets to another level entirely because now, he knows what Carlos in heat smells like and it's too much for him. Too much to stay away. So he tries to get close, to court him very awkwardly (and never saying officially it is courting). And maybe in his quest to get closer to Carlos, he also crashes with him on track a little too much (oops 🤭).

They're not exactly becoming friends but they're getting closer. And Carlos isn't entirely immune to this awkward Alpha who's courting him, without courting him. It's cute. And he likes him more and more.

So his next heat, he doesn't go to Lando, he goes to see Oscar (Oscar once again losing his fucking mind as he refrains all instincts to fuck/mate/breed with the beautiful Omega). And again and again. They spend more time together, spending heats together. But nothing happens. They just cuddle a little, play games. They talk too, getting to know each other.

Until Carlos says he would like to try spending his heat having sex, because it can be fun and a very good time (Oscar definitely loses his mind at that). They almost kiss already, just talking about it, grinding against each other (Oscar is losing his mind, definitely). They agree to have sex next heat.

Next heat comes. Oscar is beyond excited, he cannot wait to be with Carlos again. But he sees Carlos with another Alpha (Charles, or Max, maybe). And the two are not flirting exactly, but they are not keeping their distance either. And with Carlos being in pre-heat, this could really be courting.

Oscar is devastated. He thought he was a good Alpha, but apparently he's the worst because Carlos is choosing someone else, and why wouldn't he choose someone else. So Oscar spirals out of him mind, while Carlos' heat hits and it's way stronger than before and without Oscar there to help him, Carlos is losing his mind too but for a whole other reason.

So a little bit of misunderstanding, and an intervention from Lando before they finally get together and it's all better, it's all okay. And their first time is awkward as fuck but so hot and Oscar is the worst Alpha but he doesn't care because apparently, Carlos loves it (him).

[ranahan]

i've been pondering how mando'a-as-first-language speakers might tend to parse [θ] and [ð]... we know <x> = <sh> thanks to ryan kaufmann (which i'd say must be canon enough since traviss didn't contradict it) and [f ~ p] and [z ~ s] from Traviss, (and maybe <vh> = [f] at least dialectally a la Vhett -> Fett, but I'd prefer to think that's more a matter of Basic speakers parsing [ɸ] as [f] than [ɸ ~ f] being widespread in mando'a) but I don't think we have any data on how they'd tend to parse [θ] and [ð]. I like the idea of th-fronting where [θ] becomes [ɸ] and [ð] becomes [v ~ ʋ] (Kiwi English is allegedly developing this phenomenon), but since mando'a phonotactics don't seem to allow [ɸ] outside of a syllable-initial position (of course since vhe- words are the only example we have of <vh> the data is a biiit limited, but if we assume it's true) I do wonder how likely mando'ade would be to parse, for example, the [θ] in "cloth" as [ɸ], or if they'd be more likely to parse it as [t] or [s]. Tho I do also like the th-fronting bc I wanna distance <vh> from <f> as much as possible :') Not a cipher! 🗞️

On the other hand I'm a bit charmed by [θ] -> [s] as well, mostly bc I associate it with the Askie pronunciation of ת‎, historically [θ] which has in different regions either remained as such or become [t] (Modern Israeli) or [s] (Askenazi). But then the lack of [z] for [ð] (since [s] and [z] are not readily differentiated among mando'ade) makes it less ideal imo. I mean ofc they could be mismatchy, it's not like [ð] and [θ:] were replaced with other sounds neatly and evenly in Finnish (and there's that variation across dialects, which of course would be a thing among mando'ade as well--) But yeah, [ð] could be, if not [v ~ ʋ], then [d] or even [ɾ] or [l]... for obvious reasons I find the idea of the [ɾ] realisation pretty charming :')

anyway, uh, thoughts?

(yes i am thinking abt this bc loan words mostly)

(also. while generally i prefer [f] -> [p], ~kevhe [or whatever final vowel would be best...] for caf is much nicer than kep, lol...)

I’m afraid your ask is going to be better thought out than my answer!

I did think about the same thing, then thought about the option of ð being loaned as dh in Mando’a, and then got hung up in determining what the heck Mando’a phonology even is, and what do the dh etc. spellings stand for. And then never really got back to loanwords.

But now that I’ve found an answer that satisfies me, I do have a whole bunch of things I’d like to loan to Mando’a actually, because I for one don’t buy that a language of an empire, itself a creole (if you subscribe to that headcanon), does not have many loanwords. You know that joke about English mugging other languages and riffling through their pockets for loose vocabulary? I think it would be more realistic for people to make similar jokes about Mando’a, and how Mandalorians plundered half of the galaxy and half of the dictionaries too. (Yes, this is the hill someone else will die on.)

Anyways, yes I do have thoughts. Sorry this is going to be very long and rambling because these are more of immediate thoughts rather than something I’ve formed a considered opinion on.

Like you, I’ve also noted that vh only occurs in syllable initial position in the Mando’a dictionary. But! There’s a Mandalorian world called Ceravh, which as far as I can tell comes from Traviss. I’d give that even odds of being Mando’a or being (perhaps a Mandalorianised version of) a native name of the colonised world, which could indicate that Mando’a could use syllable-final vh in loanwords at least.

But anyways, another option I have thought about is that a word-final φ could get loaned as v. Even if Mando’a doesn’t allow a syllable final φ, the voiced counterpart v is very common in that position. So e.g. caf > kav. Or heck, how about h? > kah. Idk how sensible h would be, it just popped into my mind as something that could sound similar and is allowed in the coda.

Another option of course is that Mando’a could insert extra vowels into loanwords, like e.g. te reo Māori which basically keeps all of the original sounds and adds vowels until the word conforms to te reo phonotactics. So e.g. caf > kavha or kevhe or whatever the vowels would be. There’s this quote, which has a different context, but be used as a precedent if you wanted? “Pronouncing terminal consonants varies in songs. They often become extra syllables. For examples, tor becomes to-rah and tang becomes tan-gah to maintain rhythm and meter.”

On the other hand, loanwords, especially old ones, could also be subject to Mando’a’s habit of contraction. Which tbh seems as much fanon as canon to me in that canon shows some contraction and elision (especially in compound words), but fanon has observed that pattern and taken it as a licence to go an extra mile. I kind of love that kind of an emergency and it’s what got me interested in Mando’a in the first place. I digress, but I’m trying to say faithfully borrowing every single sound is not necessarily the way I’d go for Mando’a. Maybe borrowing syllables as the closest equivalents would feel better? Idk, maybe I’ll try a couple of different approaches with some test sets of loanwords and see what happens.

I do generally like f > p, but… Idk, the results don’t always compel me? They don’t sound unlike Mando’a, but also not exactly like Mando’a either? I mean kav feels more like Mando’a than kap to me. Same for vhervhek vs perpek (although for obvious reasons, perpek does appeal as a curse). But on the other hand, fan > pan vs van vs vhan? Not much of a difference. And Fi > Pai, Felucia > Pelucya/Pelusha, even Falleen > Palin/Paliin do sound good to me. This is probably because while there are words that end in p (like kotep, taap), they are pretty rare. While words ending in v or beginning with a p are a dime in a dozen.

I agree that Vhett being spelled as Fett is a transliteration from Mando’a to Basic, and not necessarily indicative of how Mando’a L1 speakers would adapt loanwords from Basic to Mando’a.

Re: θ/ð, I’ve previously considered t/dʰ, but I like both s and th-fronting better! Those would be the closest fricatives, wouldn’t they.

Mando’a doesn’t seem to have /z/, which seems to be an allophone of /ts/ rather than /s/, if you go by Traviss’s recordings. Or maybe it’s an allophone of /s/, if you go by some comments. Heck, maybe it depends on the dialect. So perhaps you could go with s/ts, or level them both as s? I guess it would depend on whether z gets loaned as ts or s?

Or go with th-fronting (θ > ɸ, ð > v) in syllable initial positions, and for the coda, either voice the θ > v, or add an extra vowel after it, or allow φ in the coda for loanwords. I think that at least for dialects that realise <v> as [β], th-fronting sounds really close. I like it!

And since some Mando’a dialects seem to have [b ~ v] (or perhaps more likely [v ~ β], or maybe some dialect has /β/ which is heard as /b/ in some others…), after making the rounds in Mando’a dialects, a loan word might even end up with ð > v > b.

Full disclosure, I also like how either would make loanwords a little less immediately recognisable. But on the other hand, loanword phonology is also affected by the speakers’ understanding of the donor language, which might bias e.g. /t/ over /s/. Idk though how much we need to nitpick realism in an artlang though. Enough to ground it, not so much the art goes out.

And then we of course have the loan words Traviss picked from English:

besom /ˈbiː.zəm/ > besom /ˈbɛ.sɔm/

Bergen /ˈbəɹɡn/ > birgaan /bɪɾ.ɡaːn/

TAB /tæb/ > taab /taːb/

hyem /jɛm/> yaim /ʝaɪ̯m/

charva /ˈt͡ʃɑːvə/ > chaav’la /ˈt͡ʃɑːv.la/

chebs /tʃɛbs/ > shebs /ʃɛbs/

scran /skɹan/ > skraan /skɾaːn/

scunner /ˈska.nɐ/ > skanah /ska.nah/

(Geordie) way aye /ˈwaɪ.eɪ/ or (Pompey) weee /wiː/ > wayii /wa.jiː/

dinny /ˈdɪ.nɪ/> dinii /dɪ.niː/

jack /d͡ʒæk/ > jag /d͡ʒaɡ/ ?

(I’m not counting mhi and kando from that linked post, since they—or at least kandosii—are pre-Traviss Mando’a.)

Bit of a guess at the pronunciations because I’m not a Geordie and Traviss doesn’t do IPA, but I’m getting the feeling that the vowel qualities don’t match up that well. I might have loaned Bergen as *bargen or *begen instead. Besom i > ɛ I can excuse as levelling the vowels to the same height, which seems like something Mando’a is prone to. ɛ > aɪ̯ is interesting. But generally, I’m not sure what I’m looking at here? Maybe just artistic licence?

Of course if actual historical loans, we’d have to consider that those words might’ve been loaned from a dialect or at a time when the pronunciation differed from modern/RP pronunciation. Plus I at least like to think that Mando’a itself has many different dialects, so I’d be willing to excuse a degree of artistic licence and inconsistency, especially when it comes to vowels which are more fluid to begin with. Afaik it’s also not weird for natural languages to exhibit even considerable variation in loan word adaptation.

Ch is loaned both as ch and sh. Syllable-final r seems infrequently loaned (birgaan) or not (chaav’la) or loaned as h (skanah)—perhaps this reflects the (non)rhoticity of the dialect from which the loans came from, because Mando’a does have syllable-final r’s. Otherwise the consonants in these words seem unremarkable.

Talking about r though, I think there are some words in Mando’a where n > r in certain environments (or at least that could explain some etymologies). I guess it wouldn’t be too much a stretch to extend that to d and maybe ð. You can hear [kote], [kode] and [koɾe] or the Republic Commando OST. Imo this is simply the effect of singing on pronunciation (I was a trained singer once upon a time, I could go on about this), but Traviss seems to have taken it as t and d being interchangeable, or /kode/ being the archaic pronunciation and /kote/ modern.

Also as an aside, I kinda want to work out the phonetics of Huttese, because clearly Huttese (or trade/pidgin/creole Huttese, whatever they speak as a lingua franca in the Outer Rim) has lots of Basic loanwords, and I think that many Basic loanwords would probably arrive to Mando’a via Huttese rather than directly from Basic.

tldr: You have seem to have thought more about this than me. Do you have more thoughts? I’m not sure how much sense my reply made; it was bit of a brain vomit. I’ll probably go read some things and come back to this later with hopefully more sense, but I wanted to reply now because I’m not sure how busy I’ll be in the near future.

P.s. you wouldn’t happen to remember where you read about <x> = <sh>, [f ~ p] and [s ~ z]? I mean I remember reading some of those same things, but it was at least a year ago and I don’t seem to have saved the source (whoops). I can probably look up the source myself if you remember where it was. Might it have been this forum thread? “So, Xaga might have been "Shaga" (incorporating that "sh" sound the Mando like) and Zuka could've been Suka.”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Secure

Summary; Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> You meet Peña at a coffee shop but after time passes, he finds out your secret.

Disclaimer: fluff, angst, mentions of guns, mentions of death, illusions to smut, swearing (I think, I haven't proof read this - probably spelling mistakes), spanish is in italics.

You had met Javi one late night in the coffee shop. You were getting the place cleaned up for the morning. Isabella, a regular customer, was sat in the corner with her nose burried deep in her research. The old man who’d you come to know as Pops - a name he told everyone to call him by - was finishing his book closer to the counter. It had been a promise he made to his wife. To read a little, at least, while she was gone. That way they’d have something else to talk about when they met again. Jośe, the young boy who’d run through the door every couple of hours in need of a coffee for his mama and a small cookie for himself, had just left, rushing out of the door going ten miles an hour. 

“Good book, pops?” You asked and he looked up and smiled. 

“Excellent.”

“Good.” You smiled. 

Just as you placed the empty cups from different tables by the counter, the bell above the door rang out. “You open?”

You looked over your shoulder. “Yeah. For a couple minutes.”

“Great.”

He rushed over, you moving the dirty cups from the counter. 

“What can I get for you?” You asked in English. 

“Coffee. Decaf.”

“Coming up.”

Then it hit him. “How’d you know I was American?”

“What?” You looked to him as you changed the filter. “Oh, uh, just a guess.”

He nodded and looked around, suddenly being met with Pops. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sweet.”

You smiled and waved to Pops. “Have a good night.”

“Night.”

“Nice Spanish.”

You smiled. “Thanks. I’ve lived here long enough, I should know.”

“I’m Javier, by the way.”

You smiled back and gave him your name which he repeated. It sounded nice. 

“So, how long have you lived in Columbia?”

“A couple years. Yourself?”

“Same.” 

The conversation ended soon enough when his coffee was paid for - he had something important to get back to. 

But the next night, you were closing up again and he came in. In fact, for the following weeks, he came in around the same time every night; just before closing. 

He started conversations with Pops who would tell Javier the meaning behind all his books. He actually started taking a couple of night classes at the local college. His wife always told him he needed to socialise more. 

She was a people person. 

And Javier would sit there and listen. Pops, clearly, was a man who demanded respect with a single look. Something, over the weeks, you realised Peña had, too. 

During the week, you had heard rumours about Javier. About his job. 

But it was never something you asked him about. You knew more than to ask an American in Columbia if he was working for the government. 

But still, he’d come in every day and order a cup of coffee and smoke his cigarette. You’d both talk and eventually, it got to the point where he’d walk you home. 

It wasn’t far; maybe a couple of blocks. 

You’d tell him why you came to Columbia - your sister. She travelled after college and invited you to join her. But something made you stay. 

He ask where you learnt Spanish. You’d tell him school, mostly, but the practice came in while you worked in the coffee shop. 

Some days, he’d come in during the day and just talk to you. He’d order a coffee here and there but it mostly remained untouched which wasn’t like him. 

Steve had asked questions at work about who Javi was going seeing every day - at first he expected it was to see one of his ‘informants’ but after he began to smell less perfume and more coffee around Peña, it raises his suspicions. 

Peña would give a vague answer but when Steve told Connie, she knew instantly. 

It wasn’t that a woman’s intuition was lost of Peña, it was just something about Connie that scared him. She seemed to know what he was thinking about whenever she looked at him. 

Little did he know, she’d seen him a couple times walk into the same coffee shop and leave with a smile on his face. One Connie nor Steve ever saw on the man’s face. 

But surpringly, it took him a while to ask you on a date. 

Javier wasn’t one for dating. After all, his job didn’t exactly allow it - especially in Columbia - but Connie (and Pops) thought he would have at least done it sooner. After all, the man came in every day for weeks just to simply spend time with you. He’d walk you home and always made sure you were safe. And god help any man that approached the counter and started flirting with you. 

It was like Javier had a radar for those who were flirting with you because each time, not two seconds later, Javier would stroll into the shop and make his way to the counter. Most times, it was like you had a radar for him, too. His coffee would be ready for him to pick up and if the guy wasn’t scared away by the look Peña gave them, he’d order a couple more cups for Steve and Connie (she’d usually come by in the afternoons to check in on him when she had the day off). He’d stay until the guy left and most people who looked away from their books noticed. 

And maybe, in truth, you had noticed a little, too. Most guys tended to scarper when Javi walked in. A few of them would even apologise to him and you for thinking differently. 

Eventually, when he asked you on a date, you said yes. 

He was so nervous. Imagine; Javier Peña, nervous around a woman. Even the heavens wouldn’t believe it. 

But he was. 

He’d asked after he dropped you off at your apartment. His palms were sweating, his mind was racing, and you were right in front of him. 

But the moment you smiled, his nerves eased. 

You smiled at him, nodded and said; “I’d love to.”

He smiled back, a little more confident, and before you opened your door, you kissed his cheek. 

“Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, hermosa.”

As you closed your door, leaning against it, you smiled but you knew. 

You were in deep trouble. 

It didn’t take too long before you were both…intimate with one another. Four dates, in fact. It was longer than either of you had presumed but it kinda made sense. Mostly, the dates went as follows: 

You’d both ask questions which the other would answer, just simply wanting to know more. Then, you’d take turns picking the restaurant or bar. Next, you’d both head back to the coffee shop - the temp waitress had a family to get back to in the late nights - where you’d wrap your apron around your waist and serve the last couple cups of coffee to the night owls. Finally, Javi would either walk or drive you home (usually walk since he could hold your hand or wrap an arm around your waist) and finally would kiss you goodnight. 

It felt different. 

You’d gone on dates before but…they didn’t feel like this. Like…it was the first time but it was also the millionth. 

It felt…natural.

Homely.

A couple more weeks passed and you’d see Javier at least once a day. He always pop into the cafe to either kiss you good morning (when you hadn’t spent the night together - which was a rareity) or to kiss you goodnight which, you weren’t ashamed to admit would always turn into something more. 

One morning, as Javi lay back in bed, the cover draped over his lower half, he watched as you got dressed by the end of the bed. 

But that was when he noticed them. 

How he hadn’t before shocked him. It was like he studied every inch of you - and not only in the night but that morning too - and yet, how did they slip by him. 

“Hermosa?”

You smiled at the nickname before turning to look at him over you shoulder. You just wished you both had the day off. 

“The marks…”

It took you a moment to realise what he was talking about. But then it hit you. 

A memory you wished to forget. 

“They’re just from…” you contemplated telling him. 

He’d understand, right? He never confirmed it fully but you knew he worked as DEA. He’d understand carry a couple extra physical scars from a job, right? 

“They’re nothing, Javi.” 

You heard him shuffle around before you finally felt his hand on your back, tracing them before placing a soft kiss onto a couple, brushing your hair from your shoulders. 

You felt yourself melt into him, his other hand now reaching around your stomach to capture the other side of your waist. 

Slowly, you both lay back but then you remembered. 

You had a job. 

Unfortunately.

Javi groaned. He had one, too. 

You pressed a few kisses to his lips before he moved from on top of you and headed for the bathroom, him leaving you resting on your forearms with a huge blush across your cheeks. 

God, you were falling. 

Hard. 

It would be a while longer until Javier would find out the truth behind those scars; Find out the story that came with them and you. 

And it wasn’t in any way either of you thought it would happen. 

4 months later…

The sun was still burning hot over Columbia. Thankfully, however, the humidity was becoming less close and claustrophobic. 

Yourself and Javi had been going pretty strong. You had met Steve and Connie - albeit a little surprisingly. 

One of your waitresses had cut their hand whilst cutting up some of the breads for lunch later that day. Connie had been passing on the street with Olivia when one of the customers ran out asking for a nurse or doctor. 

Connie came rushing inside. 

After asking for your first aid kit and a space away from the customers, she handed you Olivia who you stood with in the kitchen as Connie cleaned out the wound and did what was necessary. 

“You’re lucky. It doesn’t need stitches. Just keep it wrapped and clean.” 

Your waitress, Elena, looked to you confused. You translated in Spanish and she nodded before thanking Connie. 

You gave Elena the rest of the day and offered Connie a cup of coffee and some food on the house. She thanked you before sitting down at one of the tables and placing Olivia on her lap. 

Yet, by the time you finished up, Javi had come strolling in and was a little shocked to find Connie sat inside. 

And, as suspected, Connie was shocked to find Javi there, too. But then it began to make sense. 

The smell off the coffee shop - it was Javi. 

It was you. 

Later that night, after Connie had insisted, you sat down and had a double date with Connie and Steve at a local place. 

Steve was glad Peña had finally found someone. As much as he himself had enjoyed the single life, there was just something about being married. About having someone to go to when things got too tough. 

And, this was something, if Steve ever said it out loud, Jacier would have to agree with. 

Sometimes it was like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. Keeping his mind awake when all it wanted to do was drown in the crime and the cases he delt with on a daily basis. 

The last six months, from the moment of meeting, it had felt like bliss. 

But sometimes it felt like Javi was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, although you never voiced it, you did, too. 

And finally, late one night in the coffee shop, it did. 

Javi had worked later than he’d wished to have done. His paperwork had kept him back, making seven typing errors in one sentence. 

Most of the time, he wouldn’t bother. But with Messina…everything had to be up to code. 

And legible. 

But as he walked up the street, he found flashing lights outside your coffee shop, a waitress sat by the ambulance getting patched up and no sign of you. 

His heart dropped. 

“Peña?” 

One of the cops recognised him. “I wasn’t aware we’d called the DEA.”

“You…what happened?”

“Oh, uh, robbery. Or, attempted. Two shooters. One deceased.”

“And the other?”

“Hospital.”

“How?”

“The owner faught. One of them came from the back and sneaked up on her. She said she was fine and needs to go home. We’re gonna bring her in for questioning tomorrow.”

Peña nodded, trying his best to keep a clear mind. So you was okay? Why hadn’t you called him? 

As quickly as he could, he ran to his car and sped down the roads towards your apartment. But the closer he seemed to get, the more he began to panic. 

You had faught? 

It wasn’t that he was surprised but…no, he was surprised. Most people when met with two armed gun men didn’t exactly fight against them. Especially when the only other person in the shop had been knocked clean out and now had a severe concussion. 

But you had faught. You had, what? Killed one gun man and injured the other? 

This seemed more than just a robbery, to Peña. He didn’t exactly know why. Maybe it was the fact that the toll hadn’t even been touched. Maybe it was the fact that they’d knocked out one of the waitresses. Maybe it was the gun they had been using - Peña saw them as they got taken in for evidence. 

This couldn’t have just been a robbery. 

Peña didn’t bother knocking. He knew where you kept the spear key and he knew the code. 

He shouted your name as he entered, shutting the door behind him. “Honey?!” 

Javier had to double back as he passed the enterence to you living room. There you were, sat on the sofa, blood splattered across your body, hair, arms and clothes. You had a first aid kit open in front of you. Javier could see the bloody gauzes in a pile in the table. 

“I’m fine-“

He rushed in, pulling you up and hugging you. God, he thought you might have been dead. That the cop had got it wrong and he’d decided to just hear what he wanted to. 

But he didn’t.

You were here. 

You were alive. 

Are.

“Cariño,” Javi’s voice was soft as he took you in. Any anger he had right now could be saved for later. All that mattered was that you was alive. 

You pulled back from him to sit back down. You needed to clean the wound. 

One of the gun men had got you. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad and since it was night, you got away with telling the cop the stain on your uniform was from the kitchens. 

Peña pushed the first aid beside him as he sat on your coffee table, you knees interlocked with his. 

“It doesn’t hurt?” He asked you after a couple of minutes. He was shocked. Most men he’d met would be at least grunting in pain by now. 

You shook your head.

Something changed in Javi. His back became straighter, his gaze more focused. 

“Those scars. How did you get them?”

“Javi.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“They’re nothing-“

“Bullshit.”

You stared him down. He wouldn’t budge. 

“How did you fight? Those men. One is dead and the other will probably do so in hospital. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

You bursted. You tried your best to look away as Javi questioned you but when he said your name…

“I was a cop, alright!” You hadn’t meant for it to sound so loud. 

Javi just looked at you. You hadn’t told him? Was this how you got the scars?

You sighed as you looked down. Well, it was out in the open now. 

“I was a cop, back in the states. FBI.” You explained, your voice a little quieter now. “I had a partner, a couple years back. We had been working on a case for months. Turns out, all the information, all the insider stuff he’d found - it had come from him. He wanted into their circle. The people I had seen die, everyone’s families and children and friends had all died because he was the mole. He would tell the group where to find the families, he’d tell us he knew where the groups would be that night. Then he’d go back and inform them that we were on our way. It as fucked up.”

Javi waited for you to continue. 

“Look, I felt something was wrong so I tailed him one night. I put a call in and somehow…he found me one night. He caught be by the shipyard. When my agents finally turned up, I was almost dead. When I woke up in hospital, a guy came in. CIA. I had a bag packed, my life covered up and a plane ticket to wherever I wanted to go.”

“So you came to Columbia?”

“My sister stopped over for three days and I stayed. I don’t know what made me but I did. An agent found me a job at a local place since I wasn’t ready to go into the field or anywhere near it. The job stuck and then I decided to buy the place.”

“And the guys?”

“Local gang, I guess. They look into everyone’s background and they must have thought something was up with mine.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Just that I was American and that I had a dirty secret.”

“They know you were a fed?”

You shook your head. “Probably thought I was an informant or some shit.”

Javier nodded. You could see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m fine, Javi.”

“You could have told me, you know.”

You looked at him. Maybe. Maybe you could have told him earlier. Maybe you should have told him earlier. But what would that have done? Make him worry more? Make him panic when you were left alone?

You’d been in Columbia a good few years before you met Javi. You were one of the best agents the FBI had in the field and - if you ever wanted it - there was a job waiting for you at the FBI in the states, the CIA or, probably now, the DEA. 

You were protected. By your career, by your knowledge, by your skills and by the fact that you entire past had been burried so deep, not even the Pentagon had access to it. 

Your gaze was both soft and serious. 

“I’m telling you now.”

Over the next hour, Javi went to your bathroom and grabbed a fresh face cloth before getting a bowl of warm water. Sitting back in his place on the table, he held your chin softly, Turing your face so he could wipe away the splats of dried blood. 

Once he finished, he placed the cloth down and turned back when he felt your hand grip his. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Javi just nodded, interlocking his knees with yours once more. “I get it. I do. I just wish…”

“I know.”

You both shared a look with one another. It didn’t need to be said out loud. 

Peña leaned in, and pressed a secure kiss to your lips. 

You would be okay. 

You are alive. 

And, over time, more stories would be revealed. What happened on certain jobs, what scars came from where, what they signified…

But in this moment; it didn’t matter. 

All of that could wait until tomorrow. 

For tonight, he wanted to show you what you meant to him. He’d say the words soon enough, but right now, he just needed to show you. 

And you were okay with that. 

After all, you felt the exact same way.