#please forgive me I'm still trying to get their dynamics right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whisperofaflame · 4 days ago

Text

♡ Collision Course ♡

Chapter 17: Too much and not enough

WandaNat x [innocent, femme] reader

Collision Course – Masterlist Link to full fic (so far) on AO3

Chapter Summary: After a quiet sit-down breakfast, Natasha leaves for work and Wanda helps you get ready for the appointment. The fading of your concussion begins to reveal more of your personality to them... but also unleashes some logistical concerns.

Word count: 8.1k

Featuring: slow burn, emerging D/S dynamics, mommy kink, praise kink, copious pet names, non-sexual intimacy (but also with hints of sexual feelings at times).

Heads Up: Passing reference to disordered eating thoughts/behaviours. In depth depiction of a panic attack.

A/N: Thank you all for your patience. This chapter is a bit weird, I won't lie. I'm not 100% happy with it, but I think I just need to let it go, so I can move on and progress the story again. Please forgive me if it doesn't live up to your expectations 🥺♡

The evening slips by in a blissful blur, and in the morning the details are hazy, like the remembered fragments of a dream…

The feel of Natasha’s fingers in your hair. The grounding warmth of Wanda’s hand on your thigh. The whispered conversations which floated between the two of them, as your eyelids began to droop and their bodies drew closer at either side.

Nestled between these two women, you drifted for a while in that feeling of fuzzy contentment, understanding nothing of what they said except the safety they conveyed to you. You were there, and they were happy to have you; their lives could continue with you folded between.

And you no longer felt like a burden. For those few moments, you felt like you belonged.

———

In the soft light and stillness of the morning, you grasp for the memories, wishing you could recall with greater clarity how Natasha bade you goodnight, and how Wanda settled you into bed. It feels cruel that these details get lost in the interlude between days, and the incomplete edges prickle with doubt upon waking.

It’s twenty minutes to seven — much sooner than you really need to get up, but you already feel far too alert to attempt sleep again. So you haul your body out of bed and begin the day with a half-body stretch and a painkiller, washed down with the water Wanda left you.

After a toilet trip and a cursory face wash, you tuck your laptop under your left arm and head downstairs to the kitchen, placing your feet carefully, silently as you descend. As you tiptoe round the corner, Natasha is there, alert, awaiting your arrival. She smiles at you as you enter, and you smile back, though her ready attention has you wondering. You place your laptop on the counter beside her, too occupied even to second-guess your proximity, and sit on the empty barstool, crossing your right leg over your left.

“Good morning, lapushka,” she greets you quietly, and you feel heat blooming in your cheeks at the nickname, which still feels like a gift every time she offers it.

“Morning, Nat,” you whisper back, giving her a bashful smile, then looking down at your lap. Your mind is still waking up, but your thoughts have already begun whirring, thinking about her, trying to fill in the gaps.

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks you gently, and her question pulls you out from your daydream.

“Oh…” you say, glancing up, then ducking you head again and feeling the warmth in your cheeks extend out to your ears. “I was just thinking about how you always seem to know when I’m coming. Even before I can see you.” You look back up at her, wondering how she’ll receive this, how she’ll respond. She smiles and gives you a little shrug.

“I have good hearing, I guess,” she offers in explanation.

You frown slightly, feeling there’s more to it — but also feeling unsure about how to inquire further. Natasha can be so guarded, so particular about what she’s willing and unwilling to talk about. You don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but you also want to understand.

“You’re like a…” — your fingers dance up and down above the counter as you flail about for a light-hearted analogy — “like a spider or something. Like you can feel me moving on your web.”

Natasha laughs, more than you think your comment deserves — which makes you wonder if she’s laughing at you, rather than your words.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensively. She grins at you.

“Maybe you’re onto something, lapushka,” she says, raising her left eyebrow. “A spider, huh?”

You huff a little, only half-jokingly.

“Well, I don’t know. You just seem to sense me moving, even when I’m being quiet.”

“You’re a lot quieter than Wanda, I’ll give you that,” Natasha grants you, and somehow, her observation feels like praise. It cheers you up immediately.

“Thanks!” you reply, beaming. “I bet I can be quieter too — maybe one day I’ll surprise you!”

“Oh, you think so?” Natasha replies, grinning slyly. “I’m not so sure. In fact, I’m even confident enough to bet a cinnamon roll on it. If you surprise me at any point, I’ll get you one from the bakery, deal?”

You sit up straighter and wiggle your dangling feet in your excitement, your competitive spirit activated at once.

“Deal!” you agree eagerly. Natasha offers her left hand, and you shake it, face aching from the pull of your grin. And in the moment when you let go and Natasha lets her fings linger a little longer, brushing over your skin, you feel your excitement transform into something else. Something that flutters in your tummy, as you meet her eyes and see the way her head cocks to one side, her smile a little lopsided, eyebrow ever so slightly quirked. The way she regards you seems to sit somewhere between amusement and affection. Rather like one might look down at an unruly puppy, redeemed only by its youthful and cutesy qualities. It’s a little confusing, and perhaps you’d like to understand it someday, but for now the day is unfolding with a quiet ease, and you have no desire to disrupt it with rumination.

“Let me get you some coffee,” Natasha says, standing up. You thank her without quibbling, knowing she likes the routine and ownership of the task, and open up your laptop, intending to write an email to your supervisor. You quickly become distracted though, and by the time Natasha places a mug of coffee beside you, you’re already pursuing a side quest: reading about postgraduate socials, and all the sports club tryouts you might have considered, were it not for your injury.

“What would you like to eat?” Natasha asks you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to obtain your attention. You glance up, then back at your screen, answering haltingly due to your divided attention.

“Um… I think I’m fine with just coffee for now.”

“Alright,” Natasha acknowledges, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before removing her hand. “Just be prepared that Wanda will probably ask you as well, when she’s down.”

You nod automatically, then look up once her words have been fully processed.

“I’ll probably feel more hungry then,” you suppose quietly, and Natasha nods, sitting down beside you and sliding her mug closer to take a drink. Thoughts bubble inside, and threaten to spill out. It seems your filter isn’t working so well today. Perhaps you’re becoming a little too comfortable with them, because you find yourself rambling: trying to explain, trying to process it yourself.

“I know Wanda’s worried that I’ve not been eating much, but I’m fine, really. It’s just the painkillers sometimes make me feel a bit sick.”

Natasha doesn’t reply with any word or gesture. She just watches you, her face neutral, open. An invitation to continue. An invitation which you accept, though you avoid her eyes as the words spill out, a little embarrassed by the honesty that overcomes you.

“…But also maybe a tiny bit because I’m not doing much exercise. I don’t know. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m really not hungry or if my brain isn’t allowing me to feel it, I guess.”

You turn back to Natasha, checking for her reaction. Her face looks much the same as before: neutral, but perhaps a little softer. She moves to rest her left arm on the counter, her hand close to yours, but not intrusive.

“Have you felt this way before, when you’ve been injured?” Natasha asks, and this in itself reassures you. She’s approaching the problem logically, without judgement. Just exploring, wondering. Piecing things together before giving direction, like she wants to fully understand.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly. “Like when I dislocated my knee… it was hard. But things were kinda hard anyway, at that time. I’ve been doing a lot better since then. And I know I need to eat, so my body can recover.”

“That’s right,” Natasha says gently, and she reaches forward to place her hand on top of your own. “You do.”

You nod awkwardly, chewing the inside of your cheek as you try to summon some semblance of wisdom to reassure her that you’re not entirely useless, not completely broken.

“I think going into uni will help,” you tell her, focussing on the way her thumb moves just ever so slightly over the back of your hand. “It will give me a routine, and I can take the thinking out of it then.”

“That’s a useful insight,” Natasha comments, and you look up to see her thoughtful expression, as she considers your words. “You like structure, then?

You raise one eyebrow slightly, and hold in a huff of laughter.

“Not all the time,” you admit, smiling shyly at her. “Sometimes I hate it, because it makes me feel caged. But if I’m completely honest with myself… I think I need it. At least a little. My brain doesn’t organise itself very well, on its own.”

“Could we help with that?” Natasha asks then, and suddenly her hand on top of yours feels heavy, feels vital. You realise that when she lifts it, there will be a loss. Just like when you have to leave.

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, and your cheeks ache from the effort of producing a smile. “I’ll figure it out, eventually.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow, just a little, for the briefest moment. But then she nods. Short and final. Her hand lifts from yours, and she turns back around to the counter, reaching for her book.

You follow her lead, focussing back on your laptop screen. But your fingers flex over the keys, missing her hold, trying to adjust to the loss. Inside, a part of you screams to take it back. To accept her offer of help, to allow them to take control. But this is different from letting Wanda help you with dressing, or letting Natasha supervise you in the gym. This would be unnecessary: help beyond what could be justified through your injury. It would be an extra ask, an extra burden. And you can’t — you won’t — allow them to take that on. However much the idea tempts you.

You take a deep, silent breath, and pull yourself back to the task at hand. Pulling up your email tab, you begin writing an email to your supervisor, Professor Manné. You’ve only spoken very briefly during an online interview a few months ago, but you’ve seen a video of a lecture she gave last year about some of her research. Her intellect and academic output are formidable, but she delivered that lecture with a quiet warmth, which you hope bodes well for your mentoring relationship.

You’re so focussed on your task that you don’t notice Wanda entering. It’s only when she says “Good morning, darling,” and kisses you on the top of your head from behind, that you are alerted to her presence. Thankfully, you don’t jump. That would be embarrassing, after you made so much of Natasha’s observation skills earlier. Normally you are pretty observant — but sometimes you just get so focussed that everything else disappears. When you turn to greet Wanda, you notice that Natasha has a small smirk on her lips. You catch her eye, blushing, and her smile deepens. It’s not fair, really. Because now, when you smile at Wanda, she can see your blush too. It’s far too early to be having so many feelings. And it’s only made worse when Natasha spins on her seat, stands up and wishes her wife good morning with arms wrapped over her shoulders and a long kiss to the lips.

You should look away.

But you don’t.

You watch their lips interlocking, Natasha’s head tilting, Wanda’s hands moving to her wife’s hips… you watch it all, transfixed, frozen but for the way your thighs press together on the stool. You feel hot and bothered — and also a little sad, a little annoyed. It’s ridiculous to think like this, but a part of you feels like they’re teasing you. But no, of course not. They’re just being themselves, loving each other in the way they always do, and you’re merely an intruder. A perverted guest who neglects to avert her eyes when they share affection like this.

And the sadness? You shove that down, far too scared to process the jealousy, the longing.

Your turn to stare at your laptop — not the screen, but the keyboard. Keeping your gaze dipped, and frowning a little as you will your mind to calm down and your body to cool down.

“Have you eaten already?” Wanda asks, and you choose to assume it’s directed at Natasha, not you. You’re not ready to respond just yet, so you pretend to be occupied with your emails again.

“Not yet,” Natasha replies evenly. “We were waiting for you.”

Wanda manages to summon some agreement from you with regards to breakfast, and she hums happily behind you as she gathers bagels and spreads. You send off the email to Professor Manné, then pull up the research studies you were reading the other day, finally able to make more sense of them now that your brain is feeling a little clearer. You suspect that you’d have even more clarity off the painkillers, but you’re not ready to face the unfiltered pain just yet. And you doubt Wanda would let you, even if you were.

“Do you want to join us at the table, myšička?” Wanda asks, moving to your left side and placing her right hand on your shoulder. You realise that Natasha has already vacated the space beside you, and you turn to see her placing spreads and a plate of bagels on the dining table.

“Would it be okay if I brought my laptop over?” you ask tentatively, looking at Wanda with what you hope is a politely imploring expression. “I kind of want to finish reading this paper, while I’m in the zone.”

She tilts her head as she listens to your plea, smiling in a knowing sort of way.

“Alright, myšička. Let me carry it though — we don’t need any more breakages, do we?”

You blush at her slightly teasing tone, but you stand up, letting her hand slip off your shoulder and move to lift your laptop as you make your way over to the table, sitting down in your usual seat on the far side. Once situated, Wanda places your laptop carefully down in front of you and asks what you’d like to eat, offering to make up a plate for you. So you shyly request two plain bagel halves, with cream cheese on one, and peanut butter on the other. Wanda moves diligently to make them, and soon slides the plated bagels to the left side of your laptop, along with a glass of orange juice and a banana.

“Thank you,” you acknowledge, making sure to meet her eye and smile as you say it, to truly convey your gratitude. Even though the addition of the banana feels a little overwhelming. Does she expect you to eat this all? Is this part of the deal?

“You don’t need to eat the banana, or drink the juice, sweetheart,” Wanda tells you, and you feel the tension in your chest release on your exhale. “Only if you want them.”

The slight stiffness of your lips evaporates into a truly relaxed, contented smile, and you look back at your laptop, giving a little nod.

Wanda and Natasha begin to chat quietly together, and you make sure to take a bite of the cream-cheese laden bagel, as a show of your good intentions. As you chew and try to reel your attention back to the research paper, you realise the slick way she presented the food to you: by adding the optional extras, she implicitly cemented her expectation that everything else would be eaten.

You’re not entirely sure how you feel about this. It’s not unreasonable, not by a long shot — but the mere expectation tugs at that rope buried deep inside you. There’s nothing pulling back, not right now. But there could be, at some point. And that scares you.

You stare at the words on the page, forcing yourself to find the focus again, to move quickly away from that dark line of thinking. You’re fine. That’s what you told Natasha this morning. And it’s true. You’re going to work hard to keep it that way.

Your commitment falls slightly flat on the account of your startling ability to focus this morning. Somehow you find that narrow beam of attention again, and you stop hearing the soft voices of Wanda and Natasha talking at the table; you stop seeing the plate beside you; you stop remembering the expectation to eat.

“I’m going to head up and get ready for work, now,” Natasha tells you, standing at the corner of the table, and looking down at you as you blink up at her. “I’ll say bye before I go, though.” She reaches out and shifts your plate ever so slightly towards you. When she speaks next, her voice is a little lowered. Gentle. Private. Wanda is over in the kitchen, placing something in the fridge. Just out of earshot. “I know you’re ‘in the zone’, lapushka. But just try taking a few bites, when you remember, okay?”

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you nod.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just forgot.”

“I know,” Natasha murmurs, smiling reassuringly. “And that’s okay. I just thought I’d remind you.”

You nibble your lip, then move your hand to take the closest bagel half, which is mostly intact apart from one small bite. You take another bite, and start to chew, staring down at your keyboard, feeling watched.

“Thank you,” Natasha grants, and then she moves to leave.

You chew and you chew, but derive no enjoyment from the slightly soggy bread and thick creamy topping. You should have eaten it sooner, before the cheese seeped in and the bread cooled. Next time you’ll do the spreads yourself. The ratio is off: there’s too much spread for too little bagel. It’s just a sensory thing. Nothing else. Definitely.

You don’t want to eat the rest, but you fear it’s going to become some big power struggle, between Wanda’s worry and your stubbornness. Regardless of how you feel about it, it’s not fair to make her worry. So you force it all down, over many bites and increasingly draining chews, using the orange juice to wash the mouthfuls down when the peanut butter half starts to stick in your throat. It’s hard to eat and read at the same time, so the research paper takes a back-seat for a while, until you’ve tackled the plate and received Wanda’s approving smile. Then you’re free to read again. Except the heavy, full feeling in your stomach is not conducive to focus.

“That’s me heading out now,” Natasha calls, emerging from the staircase and taking a few steps towards the table, her hands in the pockets of her sharply tailored maroon trousers, the sleeves of her blazer rolled up to reveal her forearms, where your eyes linger for a few moments too long. “I’ll be back around 6, probably. Good luck at your appointment, lapushka.”

The nickname pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to meet her eyes from across the room, trying to scroll back through what she said in your mind. Her wry grin is a little distracting, but you get the gist after a moment, and manage a reply.

“Thank you. Have a good day, Nat.”

“You too. See you later.”

Wanda stands up and walks over to Natasha, reaching out with both arms and placing her hands on her wife’s slightly bent elbows. She says something quietly to her, and Natasha replies at a similarly indistinguishable volume. Then they kiss, and Wanda lets her go. As Natasha turns she sends you another smile, before departing.

Wanda begins tidying up the table, and you shut your laptop to help her.

“You can carry on if you like, sweetheart,” she tells you, but you shake your head.

“I can help.”

Wanda just smiles and nods at that, allowing to to help move the dishes across. Your stomach feels a little sore, but it’s probably just from eating too fast, in your haste to dispose of the bagels. It’s not bad, just uncomfortable. You’ll forget it, soon enough.

When there’s nothing left for you to help with, Wanda pauses loading the dishwasher to suggest you go upstairs and get ready, and she’ll join you in around fifteen minutes to help you dress. You agree obligingly, and make your way upstairs to the bathroom on the top floor, where you use the toilet and brush your teeth with only a little bit of wasted time between, when you stare into the mirror and lose yourself in a daydream. You still look rather worse for wear, even disregarding the sling. The graze on your chin and underside of your cheek has seemed to grow with the bruising that has bloomed around the edge of the raw skin. And you look rather pale, you think. Perhaps it’s the lack of movement, lack of fresh air and exercise. God, you miss running, cycling — freedom — so much.

Once finished, you change into fresh underwear and a pair of loose-fitting black jeans. You pull on fresh socks too, and contemplate your thinning supplies. You really need to do some laundry; things are on the brink of becoming desperate.

Wanda knocks on the door, and you call out permission for her to come in. She enters, smiling warmly and moving towards you, not too close, but there. Familiar, comforting.

“Do you have something to change into?” she asks, prompting you to pull out a bralette and one of your last clean t-shirts from the drawer.

“Would it be okay for me to do a load of laundry later?” you ask, as you turn back to her. “I’m sort of running out of clothes.”

“Of course, darling — I should have suggested it earlier, I’m sorry. We could even put a load on now, so it’s ready to hang up when we get back from the hospital?”

“Yes please,” you agree.

“Alright,” Wanda smiles, “let’s get you dressed, then we’ll do that.”

She moves closer to you then, and her eyes stray to appraise the clothes you’ve picked out to wear.

“Is that Italian?” she asks, looking back at your t-shirt to give context to her question, as she begins to detach your sling.

“Yeah,” you say, glad to have something to talk about, as a distraction from the discomfort of holding your arm steady. “I won it in a hill race, when I was on holiday in Italy. I mean, I didn’t win — I just came fourth woman, but they gave out prizes for first to fourth, for some reason.”

“That’s impressive,” Wanda praises, and you’re caught between pride and the automatic urge to bat away the compliment. “How did you end up doing that race?”

“It wasn’t a big important race,” you emphasise, not wanting her to think you’re more accomplished than you actually are. “I just saw a poster in the tourist information office near where my friends and I were camping, saying there was a hill race down the valley that week. A couple of my friends seemed keen too, but on the morning of the race they didn’t wake up, so then I was out of a lift, and I had to run ten kilometres down the valley to the village it started from. It was pretty stressful, but it warmed me up I suppose.”

“And you still came fourth?” Wanda asks, smiling as she carefully detaches you from your pyjama top.

“Mmm. Maybe I could have come third, or second if I didn’t have to run there, but I definitely wouldn’t have come first. The woman at the front was really quick.”

“And you won the t-shirt, after?”

“Yeah, and like a bag of local foods and stuff. It was really nice.” As Wanda helps you into your bra, you remember another detail of the story, your confidence growing with every show of interest Wanda grants you. “Oh, and when I finished there was this guy with a megaphone who interviewed me — through another guy, who was translating — and he was like announcing to everyone that there was an ‘international athlete’ in their midst, and he asked me about where I was from, and how I found the race and stuff… And I said it was a great course, though a bit too hot, given where I’m from, which they seemed to find funny.”

“That sounds like an amazing day,” Wanda surmises, helping you into the prized t-shirt.

“It was,” you agree, sighing nostalgically. Then you grin. “Except for the fact that — just before the prize-giving — my phone fell out my pocket when I was washing my hands, and it fell in the toilet.”

“Oh no, myšička — that’s awful!” Wanda empathises, her eyes widening at your words.

“Yeah, it wasn’t great. I had to walk back up the valley after because I was too tired to run anymore and I had the bag of food to carry, and my phone was completely dead so I couldn’t phone my friends to ask for a lift back. And when I got back to the campsite I attempted to save the phone by putting it in a pan of orzo — because I didn’t have rice — but it didn’t work, of course. So I lost all my photos, and all my messages, and I had to fly back home the next week without a phone. It sucked.” When you stop, you realise quite how fast you’ve been talking, how much you’ve said. You don’t think you’ve said this much at all yet, with Wanda. Is this a sign that your concussion has finally eased? Or that you’re finally feeling safe enough to be yourself around her? Or, a miserable thought pipes up, a sign that you’re forgetting to restrain yourself, forgetting to wear the mask and control your inconvenient habits.

A slight tremble runs through your body as the familiar thoughts thump in your brain. Like a sinister second heartbeat, they pulse in beat, repeating.

Too much. You’re too much.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”

“You didn’t,” Wanda tells you, holding your arm steady in her left hand, and cupping your cheek with her right. “I love hearing your stories, myšička. It’s like a gift every time you share a bit of yourself with us.”

You blush at that, overcome with the sweetness, and rather touched despite your inclination to disbelieve it. Because it’s so kind. Like Wanda always is. She smiles at you, then starts to put on your sling, threading your arm through, and attaching it gently behind your neck. She needs to be close to do this, her chest so close to your own. When she’s finished, she slowly lowers her arms back to her side, studying you with a tilted head, her lips curled up so sweetly.

Your gratitude fills every breath you take, and you feel compelled to share it with her, to show her how you feel. Not just for her help, but for her acceptance too. Though you long to dive forward, you hold yourself back, to ask. To seek permission.

“Wanda?” you whisper. Her name still feels necessary somehow, despite your two bodies being the only ones occupying this space.

“Yes, darling?” Wanda prompts, and you find yourself trembling slightly as you breathe out your request.

“Please may I hug you?”

Wanda pulls you in, even before she responds in words. Her left arm wrapping round your body, her right hand guiding your head to rest on her shoulder.

“Of course, sweet girl. Always.”

Your left arm curls around her back, and your fingers flex for a moment before finding the fabric of her t-shirt, which they cling to, without conscious thought. Upon her shoulder, your eyelids flicker closed. And in the darkness, you feel only her warmth, and the whisper of her lips brushing a kiss on your head.

You’d happily stay like this forever, you think, but after a while, Wanda’s soft voice calls to you.

“Sweetheart?”

“Mm?” you hum quietly into her shoulder, hoping she won’t extricate you, but knowing that she probably will. There are things to do, places to go, people to see. But you’d happily forfeit it all just to stay here with her. And perhaps Natasha too. That would be nice.

“We need to get going soon. And we should put on your laundry, before we go.”

You don’t say anything. Like your silence will put a stop to proceedings, and prevent her from letting go.

“Come on,” she encourages you with a little chuckle, giving your back a light, prompting pat. “There can be more hugs later. I promise.”

It’s just about enough to placate you, and you let Wanda unravel you from her arms. Once free, you blink slightly in the sudden light, which you didn’t have to endure while safely nestled in her shoulder.

“Where are your clothes for washing, myšička?” she asks you, and you move slowly to your bag on the floor beside the drawers, which is filled with your worn clothing.

“Just in here,” you tell her, and you lift the bag up — but it never makes it to your shoulder because Wanda lifts it from your hand and slings it over her arm.

“Are you sure that’s all?” Wanda checks, and you nod. “Alright. Could you find your phone and your Kindle please, darling? I think it would be good to have things to do while we’re there.”

“How long do you think it will take?” you ask, not liking the prospect of spending a long stint in the hospital.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. They might want to take more scans, which could mean a fair amount of waiting.”

You sigh deeply at that. Waiting is the worst. The one good thing about the accident was that the concussion scrambled your brain enough to delete all the boring periods between. Now you’ll be having the full hospital experience. Waiting. Being prodded in body and mind. More waiting. Probably being patronised too. And all under a different system: a system you don’t understand at all.

Not wanting to cause a scene with your reluctance, you force yourself to find the items Wanda suggested. Both are easy to locate, placed on the bedside table in a neat stack. You slide your phone into a pocket in your jeans, and carry the Kindle in your hand as you walk back to her.

“We should probably bring you a sweater too,” Wanda says with a frown, like she’s merely voicing her thoughts aloud. You watch as she moves to your drawers and finds your grey pullover with the quarter-zip. “Will this do?” she checks, and she smiles at you when you nod, tucking it under her arm before holding her hand out to you.

Wanda leads you down to the basement, where their washing machine resides in the little pantry off the living room. She places your clothes in the drum before you can protest, and you find yourself clutching your waist, embarrassed at the sight of her hands manoeuvring the bundles of fabric, which occasionally flashes the familiar colours of your underwear. But she looks so at ease, so unbothered by this task…

Still crouching down, Wanda opens the door of the cupboard beside the washing machine, and gestures to a variety of laundry liquids on the shelf.

“What would you prefer?” She asks, and you answer without thinking.

“The one you use,” you tell her, the words tumbling out your mouth like the fall of a Jenga block tower: unstoppable; inevitable. “I like the way your clothes smell.”

The humiliation rumbles through your body like thunder, and you’re frozen on the spot, like the lightning strike of your words has burned your feet to the floor. Your brain wants to run away, to retreat to the bathroom and curl up on the floor until you have rebottled the self-loathing and screwed the lid on tight. But you can’t move at all.

Wanda stands up, holding a bottle in her hand.

“You really are the sweetest little thing, myšička,” she coos, and she gives your forehead a quick affectionate peck with her lips.

You remain frozen as she pours some detergent into the drawer, baffled by her ability to reframe your weird words into something adorable. Of course, you meant it in a nice way — you do love the way she smells: that warm mix of sweetness and some kind of spice. But it’s weird to have noticed, and even weirder to comment on it. Yet somehow, she doesn’t seem unnerved by your impulsive admission. She just seems endeared. And although the horror of your reply still niggles at you, her kiss seems to soothe the shame.

Maybe it was sweet. Maybe it was okay.

With the wash cycle started, Wanda turns back to you, slinging your empty bag back onto her shoulder and tucking your jumper under her left arm. She moves in front of you, reaches out with her arm and turns you with a soft pressure on the back of your hip, so you’re facing the same way as her. Then she curls her arm around your back and steers you out, her hand settled on your waist in a way that feels startlingly intimate at first, then merely grounding.

Wanda guides you upstairs and takes your Kindle as she instructs you to put on your shoes. She tucks it and your jumper carefully in her handbag, which she retrieves from a little console table in the entryway. Then she ties your laces, slides on her own shoes, and leads you out the door.

The process of getting into the car is softly familiar. She still buckles you in and checks you’re safely enclosed before carefully closing your door. Again there’s mere moments to compose yourself, as she walks around the front of the car then enters on the left side. When she turns on the engine, she smiles at the clock on the display.

“We’re in good time,” she tells you. “Even if the traffic is bad, we’ll get there a little before your appointment.”

Only then does it strike you quite how much agency you have surrendered. How much responsibility you have shafted upon her. You’ve spared no thought at all to this appointment really, just trusted that she’d sort it, that she’d take charge.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, wanting to acknowledge your realisation, but not really sure how. “I — I’m sorry I’ve been so useless. I appreciate you, Wanda. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, darling,” she says warmly. “But you’re not useless; you’re just recovering. It’s okay to be a little less able, right now. And I’ll help as much as you need, for as long as you need, alright?”

You don’t trust your ability to thank her in words, without letting a sob spill out. So you just smile in a watery sort of way, and nod. She smiles back at you, reaches out and gives your hand a gentle squeeze, then moves her hand to the steering wheel and begins to pull out.

The world looks slightly misty out your window for a while, until the tears in your eyes either evaporate or are reabsorbed for later. The traffic is quite heavy still, even though it’s after 9, and the journey has many slow sections and stops. Your brain does a funny skip every so often, a little panicked jerk when you see a cyclist near an intersection. Even though it isn’t you, on the bike. You can’t help but imagine the other viewpoint, the version of the accident which Wanda saw through the windscreen. You wonder then what it was like for her, driving to the emergency room to find you, and discovering you bruised and confused on a hospital bed. How it felt for her, having to talk to the doctors on your behalf, because you could barely hold a conversation with anyone.

And what now? You haven’t spoken to anyone else since the accident, nobody except for Wanda and Natasha. Even with them it’s been hard to summon sentences at times. How will you cope with the brisk, clinical manner of unfamiliar people in the hospital?

Your eyes drop as you get lost in your daydream, slowly slipping into a spiral of concern. Your left hand lifts to your mouth; at first just your knuckles press against your lips, and then a fingernail is pressed between your teeth and you begin to bite down, gnawing away as you ruminate.

“Myšička?” Wanda calls your attention with the soft nickname and a gentle nudge of her right knuckles against your shoulder. You turn to look at her, hand only moving after you’ve fully switched your focus from your worries to her words. “Could you pass me a mint, please? There’s a tin just in the glove compartment.”

You follow her gaze to the little door in the dashboard, and you open it up with your left hand, finding a little tin and moving it to your lap. After prising off the lid — with care taken not to spill them — you hold up the open tin to Wanda. She smiles and takes one out, popping it in her mouth.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re welcome to take one too, if you like.”

You return the tin to your lap and consider for a moment, before lifting one white circular mint out and placing it between your lips. As you close the tin and return it to its home, you suck on the mint and feel the cool flavour awaken your senses a little. Somehow it helps elevate your thoughts from emotional concerns to practical ones.

“Wanda?” you ask suddenly, pushing the mint to your right cheek with your tongue. She glances over and gives you a smile of encouragement to continue. “Will I have to pay for the checkup?” You turn to face forward, looking out the front and frowning with the weight of your ignorance. “I just… I don’t have any idea how all of this works, here.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” Wanda says carefully, her words coming out slow and measured. “It should be covered by your insurance. But worst case scenario, we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

You turn back to her, your left hand balling into a fist in your lap.

“What if I can’t afford it? Will they tell me first, or will they only give me the bill after it’s done?” Your left hand releases, then bears down again on your thigh, nails pressing in. “Oh God… I can’t afford it… I should have got a job — I was meant to get a job… And I… I can’t…”

“Hey,” Wanda calls to you, and you feel her hand scoop up your own, leaving five points of prickling pain in the wake of your nails. “Baby, just breathe for me. Everything is going to be okay. Just breathe.”

“I can’t,” you choke out, and you don’t even know what it is you’re referring to; there are so many things you can’t do, you can’t manage. Wanda squeezes your hand, her focus switching between the road and the disaster you’re creating, the disaster that you are.

“I’m going to pull in, myšička,” she tells you in a calm, quiet voice. “Just take some deep breaths for me; you're okay, sweetheart.”

She lets go of your hand, and you pull it back to cross over your stomach and cling to your right side. You feel hot and tight all over, and your lungs feel like burst balloons, barely inflating before the air seems to dissipate and sink inside you, pressing down painfully. You screw your eyes tight shut but the tears drip down your cheeks anyway. Your brain seems to be thinking both too much and not at all; nothing registers but fear, ineptitude, and panic.

The car slows to a halt and you hear the click of a seatbelt unfastening. Then another click, and the feeling of the belt being carefully unravelled around you, Wanda’s arm reaching over to safely guide its retraction, protecting your arm.

“I’m here,” Wanda says softly. “I’m going to take your hand, okay?”

Your whole body racks with the force of your gasping breaths and jerking sobs. But you somehow manage a nod, in the midst of it all. And then you feel an arm reaching around you, brushing against the fabric of your t-shirt. And a hand, which is cooler than your own, encloses yours and carries it away from your waist, travelling leftwards until it is placed on top of something warm, and held in place gently. You can feel fabric, and beneath it flesh and bone.

“Just breathe with me, baby, okay?” Wanda guides you, and you feel her body rise beneath your hand. Your eyes flicker open, looking over to see how she’s holding your hand to the base of her ribs, just beneath the swell of her chest. At the same time, you take a shuddering breath in. Holding it shakily until you feel your hand sink in on her exhale, and you can release yours in tandem. You close your eyes again, and just focus on feeling.

“That’s it,” Wanda whispers. “You’re doing so good, miláčik. Just keep going.”

And you do. Your breaths slowing down, in time, and finally meeting Wanda’s in perfect harmony. You wait for more perfectly matched breaths, checking it’s not just a fluke, before you tentatively open your eyes again. At first, you just look at your lap. Readjusting to the light, and building up the courage to face her.

Two panic attacks in a week; one with each of them. At least last time you managed it alone, holed up in a bathroom until you’d recovered enough to show Natasha your face again. This time, however, Wanda has been subjected to it all. You look up at her, horrified by how you’ve conducted yourself, unable even to find comfort in her gentle gaze.

“Wanda… I… I’m so…”

“No, sweet girl,” she interrupts you, lifting your hand from her ribs and bringing it up to her lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “I don’t want to hear any apologies. You have nothing to say sorry for.”

Your hand trembles, frightened by the affection you don’t feel you deserve. Wanda moves your hand to her lap, where she strokes it gently, like she’s ensuring the kiss can be absorbed into your skin.

“I know you’re scared, sweetheart,” she tells you. “And I know it’s overwhelming. But I’m going to be here with you all the way, and I can give you whatever help you need.”

You blink at her a while, trying to collect your thoughts. You can feel that now-familiar fuzziness creeping in, like she’s wrapping you in a blanket, muffling your senses. But you can’t let it cloud your mind; you need to be alert and attentive in the hospital. You need to be able to answer questions and advocate for yourself.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you whisper, and your fingers begin to bend, moving to hold her hand in return. Inside your shoes, your toes curl up tightly, the tension running up your legs and holding your body steady, holding the tears back.

“Do what, darling?”

“Anything. Talking to the doctors… Organising the insurance stuff… I still don’t feel fully like myself. I mean, I keep thinking I’m getting better, but then my mind just switches off and I can’t think properly; I can’t manage anything.”

“Then I can help you,” Wanda asserts, squeezing your hand gently. “Myšička, I can handle it all, if you need. I can talk to the doctors, and sort out the paperwork. You just say the word, or give me a signal, and I can take over.”

“But they’ll think I’m so weird and useless. All they’ll see is this adult who can’t take care of herself. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic.” Wanda’s voice is more serious now. Still soft, but with an edge of authority. “My darling, you just need some help right now. That’s not wrong, or weird.”

“But that’s what they’ll think,” you demur, and you’re whining now, but you can’t stop. “That I need a chaperone; that I can’t manage.” Your voice cracks, and the next bit is said quietly, shamefully. “They’ll think that I’m immature and completely inept, like a child.”

“What if someone came in with a family member?” Wanda prompts, reaching out with her other hand and brushing away a tear that drips down your cheek. “Would you think that was weird, if an older man came in with his wife, for example?”

“No,” you admit, pouting a little at the way her question has disarmed you. Your brain whirs with the effort of defending your panic against her logic.

“Well darling…” Wanda says quietly, moving her hand to cup your cheek. “What if we just pretend, while we’re in the hospital?”

You stare at her, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Wanda bites her lip, and the action stills you. She seems hesitant, unsure. You’ve only seen her like this once before, very briefly. Yesterday morning, when she asked if you’d prefer Natasha. Her fingers twitch slightly, her grip of your hand briefly loosening, before tightening again as she finds her resolve and begins to speak.

“Do you remember what happened last time we were there?” she says slowly. You frown and shake your head.

“I... I’m not sure?”

“The doctor assumed I was your mom,” she reminds you, pausing a moment to let you take this in. When the memory registers, you give her a little nod, and she continues after giving you a cautious smile. ”So what if we just let them assume? And we pretend, just a little?”

Your heart flutters, and you hear the tiny stutter of air as your breath catches.

“You’d still be an adult,” Wanda tells you quickly. “And everyone would see you like that. But they would maybe just think I’m a worried mother, insisting on being there. It could take the spotlight off of you, a little.” She waits a moment, then adds a question. Quiet, tentative. “Does that sound like something you want?”

You can hear your heart pounding, the blood thudding in your ears. Every part of your body feels hot and alight with adrenaline. Logically she’s just offering you an out, offering you a solution to your anxieties. But the question feels charged. It’s like your body has noticed something your brain can’t quite comprehend.

Wanda breaks eye contact first, and you notice the slight flush of her cheeks. Is she finding this slightly strange too? And if so, does that mean you should be more worried, or less?

Her eyes return, and she simply studies you for a while. Looking at her reminds you of everything she’s done so far, every bit of help and affection she’s given you. Some things necessary, and some not, but all things she’s done from the goodness of her heart. And you’ve never been made to feel uncomfortable, or unwanted. She’s listened to you, both when speaking and silent. She’s ameliorated your worries and soothed your woes. She’s treated your body with softness and respect. And she’s welcomed you into her home, and allowed you to feel some sense of belonging in the strangest of situations.

You trust her. You trust her to choose, to direct. You trust her to think for you, because she’s done it time and again, and always kept you safe.

Maybe that’s all you need to say.

You nibble your lip, trying to find the words to express it. Her thumb strokes your cheek, and her head tilts in that gently expecting way. You begin with a nod. Tiny, twice-repeating.

“Please, Wanda,” you whisper. “I — I want you to help.” You swallow, and you give breath to the words; you speak the soft admission which feels like you’re offering something up of yourself. Like holding out a key, granting entry. Granting everything.

“I trust you."

A/N: Thank you for reading. I really hope this was okay ♡

Taglist: (comment below if you'd like to be added to this) @nessheartnat ; @valerie-lexi ; @bishovapls ; @redheadsinmybed ; @electric-guillotines ; @naominanuq ; @alpalpym ; @dreaming-potato ; @snowazul ; @deathbylesbianwitches ; @queen-of-chaotic-surprises ; @loverluzer ; @methealt ; @theslutoflasignora ; @godhatesgoodgirls ; @absolutelyregal

#wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #f/f fanfic #mommy wanda #daddy natasha #wlw fanfic #collision course #CC chapter 17

354 notes · View notes

drtyelvisfantasy · 2 months ago

Text

OH, BABY, BABY

CHAPTER THREE

note: I'm sorry this took so long to publish pls forgive me, but thank you for your patience. Please reblog and like🎀

warnings: emotional distress, toxic relationship, pregnancy, mentions of birth, toxic family dynamics

It’s the next morning, and even though the air still feels a little heavy, Margaret’s energy is doing a lot to lift the mood. She’s moving around the kitchen like she always does, humming softly, acting like everything’s okay. And somehow, just that—her being her—makes things feel a little less tense.

She’s always the one smoothing things over when Rafe and I butt heads. It’s like she can’t help but try to keep the peace, even when it’s not her mess to clean up. I feel guilty watching her do it, like she’s carrying the weight of keeping us all okay when she shouldn’t have to.

I wake up earlier than usual, but Rafe’s already in the kitchen, sitting there with a cup of coffee like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he’s always belonged there. Like nothing ever happened.

There’s something about the way he’s so at ease that gets under my skin—not angry, just... unsettled. He’s acting like this is just another morning, like we’re just a family, like we didn’t fall apart a hundred times before this.

Rafe looks up from his coffee as I walk in, his eyes tracking me like he’s trying to read something in my face. I know I look like hell—barely slept, head still full of things I wish I’d said.

He nods, that slight smirk playing on his lips, like none of it matters. Like last night didn’t happen.

“Morning,” he says, like it’s just any other day.

The casual tone makes something tighten in my chest. He’s too comfortable, too at ease—like he can just pick up where we left off without acknowledging the wreckage between us. And somehow, that bothers me more than if he’d just come out swinging.

“Are you leaving today, right?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but it comes out softer than I meant—like the answer might matter more than I want to admit.

Rafe pauses, takes a slow sip of his coffee. His face doesn’t give much away.

“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “Figured I’d head out later today.”

Rafe stands, setting his mug down with a quiet clink. He walks over slowly, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to do what he’s about to do. Then, without saying anything, he rests his hand gently on my bump.

He doesn’t speak right away—just stays there, still and quiet, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. Like he knows this moment might not come again, and he’s trying to hold onto it with everything he has.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” he asks finally, his voice low.

I feel the weight of his hand on my bump, and for a moment, I’m frozen—caught between wanting to pull away and needing to hold on to whatever this is. His touch is so gentle, like he's afraid of breaking something.

I glance up at him, and for a split second, his eyes meet mine—there’s something there, something I can’t quite name. It’s not anger, not regret, just… a quiet kind of knowing.

“Next week,” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper. I don’t want to say more, don’t want to explain, because I know if I do, this moment might break, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

He nods, his hand lingering for just a second longer before he pulls it away. The air feels heavier, like something unspoken is hanging between us, but neither of us knows how to reach for it.

“Good,” he says quietly, but there’s no relief in his voice—just that same weight that’s been between us for too long.

The door creaks open, and Margaret steps in, her face lighting up when she sees us. Her smile is bright, almost like she’s trying to will the tension out of the room. “Good morning!” she says cheerfully, her voice filled with that contagious energy of hers.

But then, as she notices the quiet between Rafe and me, something shifts. Her eyes flicker to him, and for a second, there’s that small, unmistakable sadness in her gaze—like she’s just realized what we’ve all been trying to avoid.

She hesitates for a moment, then looks back at me, offering a forced but warm smile. “Dad, you’re leaving today, aren’t you?”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just gives her a small nod, and that’s enough to make the smile slip from her face, just a little. She doesn’t say anything more, but I can see it—the way her shoulders sag slightly, the way she holds herself back from asking the questions she’s probably too afraid to voice.

—

The rest of the morning drags on, each minute stretching out longer than the last. Margaret seems determined to fill the time, to hold onto every second she has left with Rafe. They play cards at the kitchen table, and I can hear her giggling as she teaches him a dance she learned from TikTok. Rafe actually laughs—loud and genuine, like the world outside this moment doesn’t exist.

I stay in the kitchen, pretending to be busy, but really, I’m just watching them. Watching how easily they slip into this rhythm, like nothing’s changed, like Rafe hasn’t been gone for so long, like everything’s still okay.

But then a thought creeps into my mind, uninvited and heavy: Will he show up for this one? Will he hold the baby?

It’s a question I don’t want to ask, but it’s there, sitting in the back of my mind, because I can’t shake the feeling that he might walk away again—just when things start to matter the most.

Margaret insisted on getting ice cream at the beach, her face lighting up with excitement like nothing was different. She’s ahead of us now, lost in her own world as she walks down the boardwalk.

Rafe and I trail behind, side by side but not really together. He keeps his hands in his pockets, glancing at me every so often, but neither of us says a word. The silence stretches between us, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to walk away again once this is all over.

“She’s growing up so fast, isn’t she?” Rafe says, his voice quieter than usual.

“Yeah, she is,” I reply, my words simple, but they carry more weight than they should.

Rafe nods, his gaze following Margaret as she walks ahead, her energy still bright, her innocence still untouched. There’s a softness in his expression as he watches her, something almost wistful, like he’s realizing how much time has passed while he’s been away.

For a moment, it feels like the world slows down, and the distance between us feels a little smaller—until the silence falls again, heavier than before.

I shift the conversation, needing to know—needing something real before he leaves.

“Um... I was wondering if you’d be able to stay for a while. When the baby’s born.”

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. He looks ahead, jaw tight, like he’s turning the question over carefully in his mind. I can see the weight of it in his silence—the idea of staying, of showing up this time.

His face stays unreadable, but when he finally speaks, there’s a hesitation in his voice that says more than the words do.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can commit to that right now.”

“Rafe, please,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “At least be there. You’ve missed every doctor’s appointment so far... the least you could do is be there when the baby comes.”

My voice shakes, not out of anger—but something closer to exhaustion. To hope, maybe. I’m not asking for everything. Just that.

Rafe’s jaw tightens, and when he speaks, there’s an edge to his voice.

“Don’t start with that. I don’t have time to make every single doctor’s appointment. I have a life too, you know.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

He cuts me off, sharper this time.

“But what? You think I don’t care about this baby? That I don’t want to be there for you?”

“I didn’t say that, Rafe,” I reply quietly, but the hurt is already there—pressed between the lines of everything we didn’t say.

Rafe’s frustration boils over, his voice rising as he snaps back, more defensive now.

“But that’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? That I don’t care—just because I can’t be at every damn appointment?”

I flinch at the intensity in his voice. Whatever fragile calm we had is gone now, replaced by the same wall he always throws up when things get too real.

He looks away, jaw clenched, then calls out, louder than he needs to, “Margaret! We’re heading back!”

His tone makes it clear—this conversation is over. Whether I got the answer I needed or not doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

The silence in the car is thick, stretching between us like miles. Margaret’s soft snores drift from the back seat, the only sound breaking the tension.

I stare out the window, the landscape blurring past, but all I can feel is the weight pressing down on me—loneliness wrapping itself around my shoulders like a heavy blanket.

I want to say something, anything, but the thought of opening up to Rafe feels pointless. He’d probably just call me dramatic, brush it off like he always does. So I stay quiet, holding it all in, because it feels safer than being dismissed.

—

We finally make it back to the house. Margaret heads upstairs to her room without a word, worn out from the day.

Rafe and I step into the bedroom, the air thick with tension. He goes straight to his bag, focused, methodical—folding, zipping, organizing like it’s the only thing he has control over.

I move around him, pretending to tidy up, but really just trying to fill the silence. We don’t speak. There’s too much to say and no safe way to say it, so we let the silence speak for us—loud and aching.

I stand near the dresser, pretending to rearrange things that don’t need rearranging. My voice comes out softer than I expect.

“You’ll call her, right? Not just for birthdays?”

Rafe pauses, his hands stilling over the half-zipped bag. He doesn’t look at me right away, just stares down like he’s weighing what to say.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Of course I will.”

But something in the way he says it—too quick, too automatic—makes my chest tighten. I nod anyway, pretending to believe him, because it’s easier than pushing for more.

I nod, but it doesn’t feel like a promise—just words he thinks I want to hear.

Trying to soften the silence, I shift the weight in the room.

“I was thinking maybe… next time you visit, we could all go to Orlando or something. Take Margaret to Disney. You know, like a family trip.”

I try to keep my tone light, casual, but there’s hope tucked beneath it—thin and fragile. I don’t look at him right away. I don’t want to see his face if he’s already thinking of all the reasons it won’t happen.

Rafe lets out a short breath, his tone already edged with irritation.

“You want me to spend money on a whole trip to Disney? Do you even know how expensive that is?”

I look down, jaw tightening, the sting immediate. I wasn’t asking for luxury—just a moment. A memory. Something that might hold us together a little longer.

“I just thought it might be nice,” I say quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “For Margaret.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and in the silence, it’s clear—I asked for too much again.

Rafe sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, his voice still edged with irritation.

“Just don’t suggest things you know we can’t afford.”

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. Of course. I should’ve known better than to hope out loud.

“It wasn’t about the money,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “It was about doing something... together.”

But he’s already turned back to his bag, and I’m left standing there, feeling foolish for wanting more than he’s willing to give.

—

The moment is here, and it feels like time has slowed down. Margaret and I stand at the front door, silent, watching as Rafe hovers awkwardly in the doorway. His bags are packed, the car’s engine idling outside.

There’s something heavy in the air, something unspoken, and it hangs between us like a wall neither of us knows how to break.

Rafe shifts his weight, glancing between Margaret and me, but neither of us knows what to say. We all feel the same thing—this is it. This is the last time we’ll see him for who knows how long. And somehow, even though it’s been this way before, it feels different now.

Margaret’s the first to speak, her voice small, almost fragile. “Take care, Dad.”

Rfe looks down at Margaret, his expression both soft and pained. He responds to her goodbye with a gentle smile.

“I’ll see you later, alright little one?”

I can’t bring myself to say anything. The words feel stuck, tangled up in all the things I never got to ask. Instead, I just stand there, watching as he pulls away and walks out the door.

Rafe steps out, the door clicking shut behind him, and the silence that follows feels even heavier. I turn to Margaret, my heart aching as I take in the sadness etched across her face. It’s there in the way her shoulders slump, the quiet tremble of her lip, and the way her eyes shine with unshed tears—her brave face faltering under the weight of everything she doesn’t know how to say.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask softly, my voice breaking through the quiet.

She blinks, as if trying to push the tears back, but they fall anyway, one by one, and I know she’s holding onto the kind of hurt only a child feels when someone they love walks away.

“I... I don’t want him to go, Mom,” she whispers, her voice small and fragile.

“Well, he has to go, but he’ll be back before you know it,” I say, trying to sound more reassuring than I feel.

Margaret’s response is quick, her voice sharp with both annoyance and sadness.

“What, in another four months?”

I feel a pang in my chest at the bitterness in her tone.

“He has to work, sweetheart. Who else is gonna keep the lights on?” I answer, my words sounding more defensive than I intend.

She nods slowly, understanding the practicalities of his work, but her expression says everything—the disappointment is too heavy for her to just brush aside. She turns away slightly, trying to hide the way her shoulders slump.

“I know,” she mutters, but I can see the sadness still lingering in her eyes.

Margaret doesn’t say anything else. She just nods, her shoulders stiff as she turns away. Without another word, she heads for the stairs, her steps quiet but heavy, like she’s carrying something too big for her small frame.

I watch her go, the sound of her footsteps fading as she disappears upstairs. A lump forms in my throat, but I don’t chase after her. Not now. I know she needs space to process this, to make sense of what we both already feel.

The house feels emptier, quieter, and I’m left standing there, with the weight of everything left unsaid.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe fluff #rafe x oc #rafe x y/n #rafe angst #lineman!rafe x stripper!reader #bluecollar!rafe #oh baby baby🍼

169 notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 year ago

Text

You Should Be Sad

subby!Scarlet Witch x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You're the last line of defense against the Scarlet Witch.

Word Count: 770

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her power to make W do what she wants, Dom/sub dynamics, Mommy!kink, Daddy!kink, R calls Wanda bunny, W calls R Mommy, W calls R Daddy, R has W rut against her,

A/N: She came to me in a fever dream of 3 different night time meds while I was sick.

The most powerful being in the multiverse was known as The Scarlet Witch and the only one she'd ever submit to was you.

The wind whipped around you, dust and debris being blown around you. The crumbling remains of Karmer-Taj around you as Wanda settled down in front of you, heels clicking against the stone. Her green sea glass eyes narrowed at you as she stopped in front, looking down at you.

“Move out of my way Y/N.” An anger you'd heard directed at others, but never you. Your face showed no emotion and you were surprised she wasn't backing down. Before Thanos turned everything to shit the look you were giving would have had her on her knees. Begging for forgiveness for misbehaving.

“Wanda. Don't make me say it.” You threatened to use your enhanced ability to manipulate your voice. You saw the flash behind her eyes. The realization and you watched her falter for a moment. As if she was internally fighting herself.

“Your old tricks won't work on me anymore.” She called out, trying to seem tough, but you knew better. You knew voices better than anyone and though she tried you could still hear it; her fear. She knew it would work just as it always had.

When the two of you first met She believed your voice to be inferior to her mind. She was proven wrong very quickly when you made her get up from the meeting, introducing you to the team, to come next to you and get on her knees. It was something she never lived down from Tony.

You raise an eyebrow, head cocking to the side. “Are you sure you wanna test that bunny?” You changed the inflection in your voice when using her nickname. You visibly saw her shiver and tense. She couldn't even say anything as she gave a nod. A smirk coming over your face. “Heel.” You commanded and though Wanda tried to fight your voice she walked forward, stopping in front of you. Looking into your eyes which already looked a little glazed. “Sit.” You held out your leg for her to sit on your boot. Her arms wrapping around your leg. Cheek finding your thigh. “There's my good girl. Now, you're going to give up on this chase. You will give up the dark hold. You and I will go home and we will never speak of the atrocities you've committed. Those are the terms of your freedom.” You threw out the word freedom, both of you knowing Wanda didn't have freedom.

Wanda didn't know what freedom was outside of the small leash she's always been given. Hydra, the Avengers, you, Vision, Westview. Westview was the closest Wanda knew of freedom. Look where it's gotten her, right back to your leash that she should have never unclipped.

“Please Mommy I'm sorry. Can be a good bunny for you! Promise!” She cried out. You ran your fingers through her hair. You wonder when the last time was that she actually took care of herself. Her hair was greasy and you wonder for a moment if it's because she was too absorbed in the dark holds leash.

“I know you will be bunny. Mommy's going to keep you with her at all times. Always make sure that head is too fuzzy so you never think about leaving.” After the first time you'd used your power you had gone to apologize only for her to ask that you do it again because she ‘didn't want to think anymore.’ In the moment you didn't know everything that was going on with Wanda, but now you do. She'd be more than happy to submit so she wouldn't have to think anymore. “Rut.” Wanda's hips started without thought. Little whines and whimpers falling past her lips, “You want your boys back bunny? Want to be a Mommy?” Wanda looked up at you with glazed eyes. Her head nodded frantically. “If you're going to be Mommy then I guess I'll have to be Daddy from now on. “Call me Daddy.” Wanda let out a moan.

“Daddy! Daddy makes me feel good please Daddy can I cum?” She begged.

“Stop.” All movement stopped. “Stand.” She scrambled to get up, looking at you with a pout, upset that you've edged her. “If you actually thought I'd let you cum right now Then you're dumber than I remember.” A whine came from the back of her throat. You cupped her chin. “We're going to go talk to Strange and apologize. We're also going to be helping rebuild the temple. Am I understood?”

“Yes Daddy.”

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa

#ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

563 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 1 year ago

Note

a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!

charm bracelet

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)

2.1k words

i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!

au masterlist

"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.

"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.

"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.

"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."

"promise?"

"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.

—

two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.

gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.

"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.

"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.

"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.

"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.

"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.

"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.

the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.

things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.

"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.

samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."

"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.

"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.

"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.

"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.

samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.

being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.

"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.

—

will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.

she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.

the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.

somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.

"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.

"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.

"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.

"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.

"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.

"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.

"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.

"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.

"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.

"have you talked to him since.."

"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.

"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.

"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.

"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.

samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.

god, what happened to that will?

"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.

while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.

"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.

"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.

"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.

a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.

"you and me both," samy frowned this time.

"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.

the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.

"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.

the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.

her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.

samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.

"who?"

mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.

"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.

the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.

there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.

her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.

will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.

she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.

she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.

samy even wondered how long he's had it for.

without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.

210 notes · View notes

flying-nightwing · 1 year ago

Text

Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made.

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence.

“Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it.

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist.

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position.

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned.

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body–

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group.

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire.

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting.

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action.

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck.

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely.

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard.

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him.

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego.

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours.

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard.

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away.

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more.

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock.

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment.

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise.

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now.

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow.

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that.

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment.

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway.

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point.

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly.

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed.

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed.

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic.

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right.

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted.

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well.

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me”

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own.

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round.

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck.

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet.

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on.

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game.

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

#slade wilson x f!reader #slade wilson x batsis!reader #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke x f!reader #deathstroke x batsis!reader #dc fic #dc writing #dcu #DCU fic

207 notes · View notes

bethanydelleman · 7 months ago

Note

this is a very particular question indeed but I'd love to hear your take on it. if you could adapt all of the austen novels (even lady susan etc) in a modern day setting movie/book, what would you do? how would the characters, dynamics etc? would anne & wenworth still be separated by social status? would emma fall in love with a female knightley? what about lydia? & the whole fanny & edmund thing? I don't mind a long answer, in fact the longer it is, the better it is, i am in love with your austen posts and you haven't been wrong one single time. there's no other blog I'd rather ask about it tbh.

Okay, so, I'm not really a modernizer and this is a very long question. Here we go!

Two general posts about careers that would work for the men and women.

Northanger Abbey:

I wrote this. I think it's the easiest to modernize because Catherine just becomes a modern Twilight girlie or a Brontë fan and the Tilneys can totally still have a cool heritage house.

Emma:

Almost perfectly modernized by the movie Clueless, I wouldn't attempt to do it better. My queer take, which works modern or Regency era.

Pride & Prejudice:

Almost perfectly modernized by the movie Bride & Prejudice. This one hinges so much on class differences and a woman's need to marry that I think it's really hard to do a modern, Western context. However, it would make an excellent Korean drama because of remaining social stratification in that country.

Lizzie Bennet Diaries was fun, but I don't think it worked as well. Fire Island was not for me, but I think it was a pretty good modern take too.

Persuasion:

I wrote a post about this. Probably more than one but that's all I can find right now. Anyway, I think the basic premise can still work even if Anne can get a job, because there are good reasons to reject a penniless guy at 19 even today. Making Anne & Wentworth some flavour of queer can be a good angle too. But the story is essentially about yearning and forgiveness, that is something we still have.

Sense & Sensibility:

Willoughby's sin works in modern times, the real problem is Edward's unbreakable engagement. Having Lucy baby trap Edward (but it's his brother's baby maybe?) would be an option, but then again, hard to explain why Edward has to keep the marriage/engagement a secret. This one is really hard and I don't have a solution.

Mansfield Park:

I just posted about this. But it's strange, people say this one doesn't work as a modern but it totally does. Henry Crawford & Maria's affair is still totally unacceptable today, cheating is a thing most people hate, in fact. You need to eliminate the cousin thing for modern sensibilities and maybe take Fanny out of the house (she's a friend or an employee), but it can work. From Mansfield With Love was okay but I think it can be done better. The play can still be done, but I would choose one that is more well-known, like Romeo and Juliet.

If anyone has better or more ideas, please share! Especially for S&S.

Lady Susan:

I think this one might translate the best after Northanger Abbey, she's a basic Gaslight Girlboss Goddigger. Reginald would be just as aghast that she's sleeping with someone else as he was in the late 1700s. Honestly I wouldn't change much! Lady Susan can be from money or a washed-up actress or something which is why she's trying to marry and not get a job.

#modernization #jane austen #emma #persuasion #mansfield park #sense and sensibility #pride & prejudice #question response #lady susan #also thank you

63 notes · View notes

asce-of-hearts · 2 years ago

Note

Oh my!! Can I request 🌳 + 🍃 with that bully hawks that you posted. I think it really fits him! (love your writing btw! <3)

Mine to keep

contents: Yandere!Bully!Hawks with prompts: 🌳 Please stop crying, I did this for your own safety. + 🍃 You’re stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not. (gn!reader)

more Hawks content here

WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, THREATHENING AND MANIPULATION, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, COLLEGE!AU, HAWKS IS A POS, I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN SO LONG PLEASE FORGIVE ME, YANDERE, OBSESSIVE AND POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS, BREEDING KINK AND BABY TRAPPING MENTIONS.

— What the fuck do you mean you want to leave? — he asks with clear annoyance, he seems bothered by your petition.

— You really expected me to stay here forever? I don't even like you that much.

— I expected you to at least be grateful for what I did for you, you stupid slut. — he spits — You're not going to fucking leave until I want you to, which is going to be in a long, long time, dearest.

You stare at him with cold eyes, and he meets your eyes with his fiery gaze. You try not to break down crying in front of him. You already had to endure his constant abuse at college, but now in his own house? Seemed like a punishment for something bad you did in a past life.

He stands up, tall and menacing. Like a predator in front of a small mouse, now you kinda understand the nickname given to him. Using all of your strength not to fall to your knees your avert your gaze, turning your head around not to face him. He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the eye. The utter force of his hand is enough to finally break you, crying as you try to free yourself. He smiles softly.

— You’re stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not. — his statement is blunt and direct. Stuck with him, forever. Seems like a long, long time to you.

— What is your plan exactly to keep me trapped here with you? I can always go to a friend and tell them you have me here kidnapped.

— And who is going to believe you, sweetheart? Do you even have friends? You have nothing, absolutely nothing without me. That's why you're going to stay here with me, because I'm all you have and all you need. — he smirks, god, how you hate that stupid fucking smirk — I will continue to have you here all for myself until I get tired of your bullshit and decide to dispose of you. Unless, well, you stop being such a nuisance and comply with me. You're smart, right? Well, time to show it to me. Start behaving.

He is commanding, has he always been like this? You feel like submitting, maybe its a primitive part of your brain responding to fear. Still, feels pathetic to be crying like a small child being scolded in front of him, specially in front of him. He must be feeling powerful, special, like the king of the world to have you trembling in his arms with such ease.

— 'M gonna make sure you're completely mine. Hell, I'll make sure you'll never be able to escape me no matter how hard you try. You know how? This cute tummy of yours would look even cuter with my baby inside. Even if you didn't want it I'll make sure to fill you up nicely every night until you give me a baby. Our baby. Wouldn't that be lovely, dork? — he nuzzles your neck and smiles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder as he hugs you from behind. You only cry even more. — Oh, there, there. Please stop crying, I did this for your own safety. Would you rather be back home with daddy hittin' you for being such a crybaby slut? Or here with me?

feels like the plot has gotten darker everytime I write abt this stupid bully au lmao.

hope you enjoyed it!!

have a great day/night.

TAGGING: @jessicainhell @pasteldaze @duchessofhell @rosemary108233 @yukimutsu @repostingmyfavs @artist-in-training-wheels @mod-kyoko @rina-404 @eroscastle @fan4mha @goldenglow149 @hbk99450

Like my works? Join the TAG LIST! (please write your @ correctly or else the tag won't work)

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere hawks x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #yandere keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

288 notes · View notes

jodiefostertorturepornaccount · 1 day ago

Text

(Ardelia and Clarice discuss the existence of a little intruder in their dynamic, and come to terms with it)

The words hung in the air between them like a death sentence. Ardelia's hand froze mid-motion on Clarice's back, her dark eyes widening as the full meaning of what her friend had just confessed began to sink in.

"Hannibal Lecter," Ardelia repeated slowly, each syllable deliberate and careful, as if testing the words aloud might make them make sense. They didn't "The...the cannibal. The one who..." She swallowed. "You're telling me that he is the father of your baby?"

Clarice didn't look up to meet her friend's gaze. She couldn't look at Ardelia, couldn't bear to see the disgust or horror that must surely be written across her friend's face. She simply stared at her hands, picking at the quilt's frayed edges, and when she spoke, her voice was both steady and small. "I told you you wouldn't forgive me."

For a long moment, neither woman spoke. The distant sounds of the Academy continued their normal rhythm: footsteps in hallways, muffled conversations, the hum of the building as evening fell. Life going on as if the world hadn't just tilted on its axis for both of them.

Ardelia pulled back slightly, her hands falling to her sides. She studied Clarice's profile, taking in the pale skin, the way her friend's shoulders curved inward as if trying to make herself smaller, to defend her vital organs; the protective way she still held her knees against her chest.

"Jesus Christ, Clarice," Ardelia breathed, running a hand through her hair. "Jesus Christ."

"I know," Clarice said, her voice thick with remaining emotion. "I know what you're thinking. I know what I am."

"Do you?" Ardelia's voice sharpened slightly. "Because I'm not even sure what I'm thinking right now." She stood abruptly, pacing to the window, then back again. "Hannibal fucking Lecter, Clarice? The man who—who ate people. Who killed that nurse with a pen. Who—"

"Who helped me catch Buffalo Bill," Clarice interrupted, finally looking up. Her eyes were red-rimmed but defiant. "Who saved Catherine Martin's life. Who—"

"Who manipulated you," Ardelia said firmly. "Who got inside your head and twisted you around until you couldn't tell up from down." She knelt back down beside the bed, searching Clarice's face. "That's what happened, isn't it? He got to you somehow. He made you think—"

"So what, he's a monster? The Satan?"

It had been precisely what Mapps had thought, the accusations echoing from thousands of mouths whose owners couldn't decipher what Hannibal Lecter was, therefore deemed him a monster, plain and simple.

"Might as well be. Goddammit, Starling, are you in love with him?"

"No!" The denial came out faster than Clarice intended. "No, Ardelia. It wasn't like that. He didn't... I wasn't some victim. I made a choice."

"A choice?" Ardelia's voice climbed an octave. "You made a choice to sleep with a serial killer? A cannibal? Clarice, listen to yourself!"

Clarice flinched as if she'd been slapped. Suddenly the silence was too loud, too deafening, and the vanished man was too present, way too present in every element of their conversation. They figured they needed to quieten. "You think I don't know that? You think I haven't been telling myself the same thing every day since it happened?" Her accent thickened with emotion. "You think I don't know I'm sick? That I'm wrong? That I'm—"

"Stop it." Ardelia grabbed Clarice's hands, squeezing them tightly. "Just...stop. I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I'm just trying to understand."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Ardelia spoke again, her voice gentler but still strained.

"Tell me what happened. Please. I need to understand."

Clarice closed her eyes, and for a moment Ardelia thought she might deflect again. But then she began to speak, her voice so hushed that Ardelia had to lean in to hear.

"It was after Buffalo Bill. After everything. I went to see him one last time, to... get closure, I guess. To gather information that could get us closer to Catherine's abductor." She opened her eyes, staring at her dainty pale hands on the quilt's fabric again. "The guards were gone for some minutes. We were left alone and... and it just happened."

"It just happened," Ardelia repeated flatly, involuntarily scoffing softly as she looked at Starling.

"I know how it sounds. But it did. One moment we were talking, and the next..." Clarice trailed off, shaking her head softly. "He was leaving that night. We both knew it. And I... I couldn't let him go without..."

"Without what?"

"I don't know!" Clarice's voice cracked. "I don't know, Ardelia. I've been asking myself that question for weeks now. And I don't know if it was...some sort of fucked-up gratitude, if I was just so messed up from everything that happened that I couldn't think straight," her voice took on a punishing tone. "Maybe I was just not able to handle the job. Or maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

Clarice was quiet for so long that Ardelia thought she wouldn't answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.

"Maybe I wanted to."

The admission hung between them like a confession at trial. Ardelia felt something cold settle in her stomach.

"Clarice," she said carefully, "what you went through with Buffalo Bill, with the whole case--that kind of trauma can make people do things they wouldn't normally do. It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?" Clarice looked at her friend with eyes that seemed older than her twenty-two years. "It was before I killed Jame Gumb. I was the one who went to his cell without supervision. I was the one who... who asked him to. I was the one who said yes when he asked if I wanted him to—" She stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing.

Ardelia felt her own face grow warm and her eyes narrowed. Maybe she didn't want to know the end of this story. "You asked him to..?"

"I was leaving," Clarice said defensively. "I was walking away, and he said my name, and I turned around, and he asked if I wanted him to kiss me goodbye. And I... I said yes."

"And then?"

"And then he kissed me." Clarice's voice was flat, clinical, but an edge of shame was there. "And we didn't stop at kissing."

Ardelia sat back on her heels, processing this. In some twisted, horrible, way, it was starting to make sense, pieces of a jigsaw puzzle clicking in. The way Clarice had been after her interviews with Lecter—shaken, yes, terrified to the bone, totally, but also strangely energized. The way she'd talked about him afterward, the way she would say things and dissect cases in words that sounded awfully close to his speech.

"How far along are you?" The black woman asked finally.

"About six weeks, I think. Maybe seven."

"And you want to keep it" it wasn't entirely a question.

Clarice's hand moved instinctively to her stomach, a gesture so protective and maternal that it made Ardelia feel sick.

"I can't get rid of it," Clarice confessed under her breath, and she sounded frightened. "I can't. I know that must sound crazy, given who the father is, but—"

"It doesn't sound crazy," Ardelia said gently. "It sounds like you."

"Does it?" Clarice looked up hopefully, her bright eyes, blue like the ocean, red-rimmed from the earlier crying.

"Yeah, it does. You don't abandon things, Starling. You don't give up on anyone. It's one of the things I love about you, even when it drives me crazy."

Clarice's eyes filled with tears again. "I thought you'd hate me."

"I could never hate you," Ardelia said firmly. "I'm scared for you. I'm confused as hell. I'm probably going to need therapy after this conversation. But I could never hate you."

"Even knowing what I did? What I am?"

"You're my best friend. You're the bravest person I know. You're going to be a mother. And I'm going to be an aunt."

That made Clarice smile feebly amidst all her terror, and Ardelia smiled back, although it did not reach her chocolate-colored eyes.

"Okay," Ardelia said, deciding to give the Lecter subject time. "So, what are you going to do? About the job, I mean. About your career."

"I don't know." Clarice's voice was small. "I want to keep work, go to Behavioral Sciences. But I know it's going to be hard with a baby."

"Hard is an understatement," Ardelia said bluntly. It might have sounded cruel, but it was the realism they needed at the moment. "Clarice, you're about to become a single mother," Mapps let the words sink in, and didn't know whether she was surprised or not not to see fresh tears well in Starling's eyes. "In the FBI. The Bureau isn't exactly progressive when it comes to women agents, let alone pregnant agents. You have seen it, you know how they treat you, you know what it's going to be like."

"I can handle it," Starling argued mildly.

"Maybe. But what about when the press finds out? What about when they start digging into who the father is?"

Clarice went very still. "They can't find out."

"You don't know that. And even if they don't find out about Lecter specifically, they're going to want to know who got FBI's golden girl Clarice Starling pregnant. They're going to dig, and they're going to ask questions, and scandalize, and they're going to make your life hell, Clarice."

"I can handle it," she repeated gingerly.

"How? By lying to everyone? By making up some story about a one-night stand?"

"If I have to."

Ardelia sighed like a mother would at her stubborn kid. "You're not thinking clearly about this, Clarice. You're gonna need support. You're gonna need help. And you're going to need to be honest with someone about what really happened."

"I'm being honest with you."

"I mean someone in a position to help you. Your therapist. Maybe Crawford."

"No." Clarice's denial was absolute. "No one else can know. Promise me, Ardelia. Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Clarice, you need to think--"

"Promise me," there was a flicker of desperation in the redhead's eyes now.

Ardelia looked at her friend's face and sighed, understanding in her heart and rationality that secrecy was not a bad decision. "I won't tell a soul. But you need to think about this carefully. About what you're going to do once the baby is born. About how you're going to explain things. About whether you can really handle being a single mother and an FBI agent at the same time."

"I know it won't be easy," Clarice said quietly. "But I can't give up my career. It's all I have left."

"It's not all you have. You have me. And now you're about to have a baby."

"I have a job that defines me," Clarice interrupted nervously, fidgeting. "Without it, I'm just... I'm just some rube from West Virginia who got knocked up by a serial killer. At least as an agent, I'm something more than that."

"You're more than that anyway," Ardelia said firmly. "Job or no job, baby or no baby, you're Clarice Starling. You caught Buffalo Bill. You saved Catherine Martin. You're a hero"

"I'm not a hero," Clarice said bitterly, self-recrimination seeping into the words. "Heroes don't sleep with monsters."

"Maybe not," Ardelia agreed. "But they do make mistakes. You're human, Clarice, stop denying yourself humanity. All that's left is to make the best of your mistakes."

Clarice looked at her friend with something like gratitude in her eyes. "Can you help me? Keeping it a secret?"

"Of course I can. We'll figure it out together. All of it."

"Even if it means covering for me? Lying for me?"

Ardelia nodded with nothing but aching honesty. "I don't like it," she said finally. "This is a hell of a situation, Starling. But yes. If that's what it takes."

"Thank you," Clarice whispered.

"Don't thank me yet. We haven't even begun to figure out how we're going to pull this off."

"I know. But just knowing you're with me... that makes it feel possible."

Ardelia reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. "We're going to need a plan. A good one. And we're going to need to be careful. One slip-up, and this whole thing could come crashing down."

"I know."

"And Clarice? Eventually, you're going to have to deal with your feelings about him. About Lecter. Because whether you want to admit it or not, those feelings are going to affect how you raise his child."

Clarice pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself again. Her expression turned hard. "It's my child," she countered protectively. "And I don't have feelings about him. Not anymore."

"Okay," Ardelia said mildly. "But when you do... when you're ready to talk about it... I'll be here."

"I won't be ready," Clarice said quietly. "He... he's history now, a stain in my past," her palm moved over her stomach, where the slightest swell was forming, proof of how close Starling had let the man in before their paths diverged. Her tone became soft. "This baby is my future."

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own private thoughts. Finally, Ardelia spoke.

"Are you going to tell the baby about him? When it's older?"

"I don't know," Clarice admitted. "How do you tell a child that their father is... what he is?"

"I don't know either. But kids have a way of figuring things out. And it might be better if it comes from you."

"Maybe," Clarice said. "But not yet. Maybe never."

"That's a long time to keep a secret," Mapps countered.

"I've gotten good at keeping secrets," Clarice said, and there was something resolute in her voice that made Ardelia's heart ache.

"Yeah," Ardelia said quietly. "I guess you have."

Outside, the Academy was settling into its evening routine. Soon, they'd be expected at dinner, at study groups, at all the normal activities that made up their structured life. But sitting here in their small room, with the weight of this impossible secret between them, normal felt very far away.

"How are you feeling, Starling? Really?" Ardelia asked.

"Terrified," Clarice admitted. "But also... I don't know. A little excited? Is that wrong?"

"I don't think anything you're feeling is wrong," Ardelia said carefully. "Complicated, maybe. But not wrong."

"I keep thinking about what kind of mother I'll be. About how the baby is going to look like," her hand enclosed her midsection, and Mapps wondered if she was still coming to terms with the pregnancy, "if they'll be like me or like... like him."

"They'll be like you," Ardelia said firmly, albeit something in her tone left room of discussion. "You're the one who will raise them. You're going to shape who they become."

"But what if genetics--," the scientific part of the redhead's mind, the one that got her through Quantico, was working overtime again.

"They are just one part of the equation," Ardelia interrupted. "Environment matters too. Love matters. Do you love this baby, Clarice?"

"Yes," Clarice whispered without hesitation and felt terrified at the sincerity when she talked. "Yes, I do."

Ardelia sighed. "Then that's what matters. Not who the father is. Not what he's done. Just you and this baby and the love you're about to give them."

Clarice's hand moved to her stomach again, and she stared at a point above Ardelia's shoulder with a distant, pensive expression.

"I hope you're right," she said.

"I am right," Ardelia said with more confidence than she felt. "And we're going to make sure of it."

"We?"

"We. You're not doing this alone, Clarice. I meant what I said. We're sisters, and sisters stick together. Even when one of them makes spectacularly bad choices in men."

Despite everything, Clarice laughed. It was a shaky, tear-filled laugh, but it was genuine.

"Spectacularly bad doesn't even begin to cover it," she said.

"No," Ardelia agreed. "It really doesn't. But we'll figure it out," she squeezed Clarice's hand. "One day at a time."

"One day at a time," Clarice repeated, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she might actually be able to breathe again.

#clannibal #clarice starling #hannibal #the silence of the lambs #clarice x hannibal #silence of the lambs #some of our stars are the same 🫀#thomas harris #fanfic #post the silence of the lambs #mom!clarice starling #parents au #canon divergent au

8 notes · View notes

dimiotouole · 5 days ago

Text

Alright, small drabble time! Here are some cut scenes / things I never implemented into the story! Enjoy!

Keep in mind that these are still rough... hopefully

1. Loop encounter

(A hypothetical encounter between Loop and Crepéscule, mostly just testing for their dynamic.)

Cule PoV:

You raise your fan towards the stranger.

They've been following you for quite some time now…

You've only caught glimpses of them…

But…now that you look at them clearly…

They look like…

But…that can't be right…

You tilt your head in confusion, then open a box quickly.

[“Siffrin…?”]

The lookalike seems a bit startled, then shakes their head.

“Nope! Sorry, I'm not your stardust~”

Stardust…?

They don't sound like Siffrin, for sure…

“I am a…friend however. So no need for the fan, my dear! My name is Loop! Helpful Loop, here to help with the loops! Or…I was, rather. Now I'm…”

They go quiet…

…?

“A-Anyways! Don't tell Stardust you saw me, okay! I swear I'm not being a weirdo stalker! I…want to talk to them, but don't feel comfortable yet. So please, give me some more time…okay?”

You can't read them…even more than you can't read Siffrin…

Wait!

Loop!!!

That's the person Siffrin told you helped them!

[“Oh! You're Loop! Siffrin misses you! He seemed sad, talking about you.”]

They flinch slightly.

“Stardust…too forgiving for your own good…”

They murmur.

“Well…I'm here, and I'll talk to them…but, when I'm ready…okay? You're…Cule, right? The newest edition to their little group? Such a cutie you are!”

Another switch in topics…

They jump around conversations like a rabbit…

This one does bring a little darkness to your face though.

You're not cute!

They ruffle your hood a bit, just like Siffrin does.

Your face feels warm.

“You're an odd one…aren't you? From the same place as Stardust…how unlucky…well, I'll be on my way now…please don't tell them you saw me. From one hermit to another…I need more time.”

They walk away, towards the underbrush.

Hermit? Were you a hermit?

You…suppose you were, for a time…

For…as long as you could remember…

Hm…

You nod…letting them disappear into the woods

-------------------------------------------------------

2. Alternative Siren Call

(This was the original idea when I thought of Siren Song as a whole, and originally how the scene was going to play out. After the cut off, it's exactly the same as in the fic.)

You sit on a bench on the docks, staring into the distance.

Book in hand…pen at the ready…

You can see it…

It's…there…

Just…

Try to sketch it

It hurts…it hurts so much to look at it.

The longer you stare, the worse your headache gets.

But…if you can bear through the pain…

You can sketch it…

With effort, you begin to sketch

You try hard to keep your pen from tearing the paper

It's hard to not have it pressed down so hard…especially as your whole head feels like it's going to explode…

You can see it…you can sketch it

Make it real.

There's…a semblance of a shape on the page…you think..

You can't see ..it's all so blurry

Stars it hurts…

It hurts….

It hurts!!!!

But you have to…you have to continue…

You can't feel your hands

Your head pulses, each heartbeat thrumming more and more pain into your skull

Your head feels like it's being crushed between rocks and sharp teeth…

Vaguely you can feel yourself crying…

It hurts so bad…

You're shaking so much the pen is unstable

It's a mess…

It's all a MESS

IT'S NOTHING MORE THAN SCRIBBLES

STARS IT HURTS!!!!!!!!!

AND FOR WHAT??!

A SHAPLESS BLOB?!

Frustrated, you slam the pen down into the paper, stabbing it through your drawing

-AGH!

Stars….

STARS IT HURTS!!!!

You…look down to see you've…stabbed your hand…

The pen went right through your palm…

Oh that's…

That's a lot of…blood…

You feel woozy…

It hurts…

Everything turns blurry

You see that shade….

The same one scored across your throat

In the corners of your vision

ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

It hurts so much you can't think anymore

You can't focus

You can't

You c a n t

You…you hear…

Something calling

It's…calling

The blood dripping off your hand is nothing compared to the ringing in your ears

You can hear it calling to you

You've heard it all this time…

But now it's louder than ever

You're drawn to it like a moth to flame

It's…just…out of reach…it's right there…

You can go to it

You can reach it!!! You can go home!!!

You…try to move…but something stops you

Someone

Petrónille

You struggle against Petrónille, she's got a tight grip on your cloak.

You mouth voiceless pleas of desperation

LET ME GO

I HAVE TO REACH IT!!!

I HAVE TO GO!!!!

I HAVE TO GO TO IT!!!!

I HAVE TO!!!

IT'S RIGHT THERE!!!

LET ME GO!!!!

“Crab…you're stronger than you look! Stay still will you?! You just stabbed yourself!! Something's not right here!!!”

Petrónille hisses, turning back to shout: “HEY! SOMEONE COME HELP ME! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH CULE!!”

NO NO NO NO

YOU CAN'T LET THEM DO THIS

THEY CAN'T DO THIS!!!!

THEY CAN'T KEEP YOU FROM YOUR HOME!!!

You reach up and grab the star binding your cloak together and rip it off

Slipping free of your cloak, and of Petrónille, you dash towards the end of the docks.

------------------------------------------------

3. Small test scene for certain aspects of the fic

(Just kinda a what if scenario, emphasizing Cule's terror of anyone trying to say the islands name)

You can see it happening

Siffrin…he's…he's opening his mouth. You can tell the name is on the tip of his tongue…

If he can just…get it out…

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONONONONONONO

You rush forwards, everything feels like it's in slow motion.

Barreling into him, you tackle him to the ground.

Your hand covers his mouth, he looks shocked and furious.

“Let me go! LET ME GO! I HAVE TO SAY IT! I HAVE TO MAKE IT REAL! WE COULD GET EVERYTHING BACK! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?! IT'S RIGHT THERE!!! JUST WITHIN OUR REACH!!” He yells as best he can, his voice muffled by your hands.

You press harder, to where he can no longer speak.

He's struggling underneath you, glaring furiously.

This isn't like him…this isn't like him!!!

What's gotten into them?! Why is he doing this?!

Water falls into his face.

Tears, you realize.

You're crying…sobbing…

Trying everything in your power to plead with him silently.

You can't let him do this. You can't!! He can't end up like you!! He can't end up broken, scarred, disfigured, mangled, cursed.

You can't let him do this!!

YOU CANT LET HIM DO THIS!!!

Why won't he understand??!!?

You feel yourself pushed off, fear striking right through your heart.

No no no…no no!!

You weren't strong enough!!

He glares at you, snarling something you can't hear.

You can't hear anything with the blood rushing through your ears…

You have to do something…anything!!!

He's about to ..

OH STARS HES ABOUT TO SAY IT

NO NO NO NO

You try your best to scream at him, all that comes out is a pitiful mess of garbled noises. A rasping, scraping sound of silent desperation

And then…choking.

You feel your throat opening up again

What's left of your vocal cords tearing open

You can feel the blood flooding into your mouth

No…no please…

You cough up lightless blood, staining the ground below…

Your vision gets blurry…

Your throats screaming, burning, torn apart again by your stupidity

You feel Siffrin rush to your side ..

He looks…terrified…

At least…you got him to stop…

Your feel your body giving out

You can't breathe…

All you can taste is blood…

Someone..

Anyone…

Help…

Help…me…

You're drowning

Drowning in a lightless sea

You can't tell if it's water or blood

It's too thick to be water…

Too watery to be blood…

Your throat hurts

It burns

It aches

Your head is pounding

You can't see….

But…

You can hear voices…

You can feel…a gentle warmth

It's like a warm sunbeam on a cold day

Soft…inviting…

A hand…holding yours?

There's…someone there…

Two people…

One holding your hand…another behind you…

Their hands on your shoulders…

“You must learn how to swim! It's far too dangerous for you to wander alone like this!”

A voice…soothing…

Familiar…

An ache tears through you…

A longing…

A need for that warmth..

“I'm sorry, mama…maybe papa can teach me to swim!”

Your….voice…?

But…

You can't…

You haven't heard your own voice in so long…

You can't speak anymore…

How are…you…?

Wait…

Mama…?

Papa…?

“Now now…come.”

You feel, a gentle push on your back.

“I'll teach you how to swim,Ã̸̡̛̠̠̅͊̓́͑͌͊͊͌͆̆̃̅̈́͗̏͋͐͗͒̉͗̌̓̓̇̄̅̋̄̃̊́̕̕̕͝ͅm̸̢̨̨̡̢̨̛̛̛̦̩̣͉͖̳̝̺̫͙̫̝̩̝̳͈̖͈͚͎̟̀̎̃͋́̀̒̑͆͑̉͒͊̑̎̿̂̂̀̾͋̍̀̾͑̏͑̎͆̉̎̿͗̕͝͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅa̶̭̘̼̠͙̦͚̬͍͂̀̿́̉̓̈́̌̊̈́̿̈́̀̅̓͑̈́̄̏͐͂͂͑̍̈́͒̈́̐̄̀͌̆̊̓̇͆̑̏̓̍͘̕͠ņ̴̧̛͕̯͖͇̣̤͙̬̦̝̩͚͍͇̘̝͓̖̙̤͉̭͈̬̖̩̻̺̣̑̀̓͋̌̊͂͊̈́͒̔͆͆̀̋͑̇͐̋͊͆̐͌̈́̓̎̋̋̒͋̾̿̾̏͛̈͘͘̕̚͝͝͝i̶̢̛͖͈̪̟̖̱̤̲̩̮̲̎̂̇͊̈́͛̒̅̃͑̄̀̽̌̍̓͐͐̄̾̄̓̉͂̊͘͘͠͠͝͝ “

ArGhH-!!!!!

A flash of lightning, sharp as it pierces your skill.

You feel sick

You can't breathe

It HURTS!!

ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!!!!

AGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Waves of agony pulse through you, clutching at your very soul

It feels like your head is being torn to pieces, shredded by claws

Crushed between rocks and sharp teeth

You can't think anymore

The pains too much

You twist and writhe in pain, screaming

But nothing comes out

You can't….

You …

“Cule…!!”

“Cule!!!”

“Q wake up!!!! What's happening to them!?!”

“Cule please come back to us!!!”

You open your eyes

The light….it hurts so much…

You can barely see….

Everything hurts…

The air is on fire, there's smoke in your lungs.

You can't breathe

You choke on your own amnesia

Struggling to breathe…

You…remember…

At least…what happened…before…

You opened your throat again…

You tried to scream….to get him to stop…

…Siffrin…

Siffrin!!!!

You look around wildly mouthing his name.

He's standing to your left, looking haunted…you can tell guilt is weighing heavy on his soul…

He feels at fault…

But it was your stupidity…

You knew what would happen…

He's…okay though

He didn't say it…

Thank…the stars…

Your vision gets dark as your overcome with sleep

You can't…see them…

You can't register what they're saying…

You can't…

Hold on…

Any….

M..o…re

--------------------------------------------------

4. Loop Nightmare

(An idea I had for a nightmare that Siffrin could have, but never fit anywhere narratively)

You find yourself sitting on the Favor Tree's roots in Dormont…

Just like you used to…

So so so so so many times…

You look to Loop

And freeze.

Loops there, staring at you like they normally did

But

They were holding someone hostage

Your dagger to their throat

Cule.

“Loop?! Loop what are you-?!” You yell, standing suddenly.

“Ah ah ah stardust~! Move one more muscle and I'll tear them open. You know how well this blades cuts…maybe I'll…intentionally miss the artery. Draw it out for a lonnnggggg while~!” They exclaim in a singsong tone.

Cule looks at you, terrified. They can't speak, they can't move…

But you can tell they're begging. Pleading you to save them.

To help them.

“WHY?!” You scream.

You don't understand

Loop disappeared

They were gone

You said you'd see them again someday but…

Not like this…

This has to be a nightmare…

This has to be!!

“Oh stardust…Siffrin. You know why. You took my family…you took my happy ending…

I'd never hurt them…but this…creature? Well…they're disposable~!!”

Loop didn't know Cule…

They had nothing to go off of

But they knew you cared

They knew you saw them like a sibling..

Family…

“.... remember this, stardust. Etch it into your mind. Always remember what you took from me….”

They slashed, cutting through flesh like paper.

“...can be taken from you just as easily.”

With that, they disappeared.

“CULE!!!! NO!!!”

You scream desperately, holding them in your arms. There was so much blood…oh stars…

Was this what your family had to go through, when you used your dagger…?

You try to stop the bleeding with your cloak, tears mixing with the pooling blood on the earth below

Cule looks up at you sadly…almost reassuringly…

They look so scared ..but trying to tell you it's not your fault ..

It is your fault

IT'S YOUR FAULT

IT'S

ALL

YOUR

FAULT

You can hear them choking, gurgling

“Please, please stay with me!! You'll be okay Cule, you're gonna be okay…you have to be okay!!!! PLEASE!!!”

They squeeze your hand tightly…and then fall limp.

All the lights drained from their eyes….their blood stops pulsing…

They're gone…

You scream and sob into their lifeless body, wailing at the top of your lungs…

“....siffrin…!”

Your fault…

Your fault….

“SIFFRIN!!”

You jolt awake, nearly headbutting Isa as you look around the room frantically.

“Sif!! Buddy…hey…are you okay? You were having a nightmare…” He says gently, taking your trembling hand.

“You…started screaming…something about ‘your fault’…?”

You want to throw up…

You have to see them.

You have to make sure they're okay….

Ignoring Isabeaus' confused protests, you jump out of bed and run downstairs.

You have to find them

You have to-

You stop, locking eyes with Cule. They're safe…intact…

Looking very tired and worried…

They must have heard you screaming…

Before you even realize it

You rush forwards and hug them tightly.

You're shaking so badly…

You're sobbing still….

Cule slowly hugs you back…giving reassuring pats to your back

They look up at you, clearly confused. They tip their head, probably trying to ask if it was a nightmare.

“...really…bad nightmare…” You manage, words wavering.

They step back a moment…

[“It was just a nightmare…did…something happen to me, in it?”]

You nod…your mouth dry…

You can almost picture the slash right through their neck…

“You…you died…in my arms…”

Their expression softens from worry to sympathy…

Not pity

But understanding

[“I'm here, Siffrin. I'm alive and well…I plan on staying that way. I'm here with you in this moment. I'm not gone. I'm right here.”]

#isat #in stars and time #isat oc #in stars and time oc #of stars and songbirds #Crepéscule posting #songbirds extras

10 notes · View notes

marichild · 3 months ago

Note

dazai and lucy for the ask game?

HELLO anon sorry for the delay! been really busy with practicals and work 💔 I hope you still see this help. warning this is Long

LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

favorite thing about them: I'm not sure how to explain this exactly, but I've always been fond of how strong-willed and blunt lucy can be, but not exactly unkind. I guess it's that she seems to feel things pretty high-key, but at the same time she's levelheaded and smart and rational. this is just turning into a thesis on lucy isn't it

least favorite thing about them: if I said how much I don't see her. I miss her. I need her back. lucy my girl please. /joking btw I love where the manga is at rn I know she's not a main character don't kill me

favorite line: "if I fall, go find my bones, okay?" like HELLO OH MY GOD? genuinely an insane line I think. the way ango told her and she still just. went for it. went to save atsushi despite the dangers. she's made it this far quietly backing them up — why not just go for it now? the amount of insane courage required to do that...if she'd missed her chance to get within range and activate anne of abyssal red. and she did it. jesus fucking christ. lucy maud montgomery the woman you are. heart eyes.

brOTP: KYOUKA AND LUCY!! I just think. there's so much to be said there. neither of you like the other but you trust each other when it comes down to it when you're on the field; your most important person is one and the same and you don't like how close he is to her but you understand what that relationship means to both of them. you play nice for his sake. both of you understand each other in ways no one else really will at the same time as there are aspects of each other you can't quite reconcile with yourself. little girls forced to grow up too soon. she had no love and no warmth and is only finding it now. she had so much love and warmth and it was ripped away from her so suddenly and she's only now beginning to find her footing. you've both done things you can't forgive yourself for. she's a killer and both of you once intended on truly killing the person you both find the most important. I'm really normal about them aren't I

OTP: atsulucy <3 I don't really ship romantically for bsd but this is one of those ships where I lean that way if the situation calls for it. they're cute and they understand each other intrinsically in a way nobody else does. they've been through similar things and hate themselves for similar reasons (but atsushi is still trying to find a way to live vs. lucy stubbornly clinging to her right to exist as she is even as she tries to mold herself into someone more acceptable). together they make a lethal force. they're quietly there for each other. sometimes I think about atsushi and his patience with her and I feel so melty and gooey. honestly I need to shut up about bsd dynamics I think I talk too much also tumblr users @tunamayuuu and @obsidianstrawberrymilk were absolutely right atsulucy sk8 au as renga would be so correct and so !!

nOTP: none

random headcanon: she and akutagawa would probably get along in a really weird way. I have no basis for this. I just believe in her right to get along with port mafia members in a way that'd horrify the ada. in all seriousness I do think people don't quite get that as hotheaded and emotional lucy is, she's also very full of ... not love, exactly, but something like kindness? she's made of softer edges than she makes herself out to be. idk. she makes me melt sometimes.

unpopular opinion: probably not a hot take for people with common sense but. holding some people's hands very gently and goes. she's not getting in the way of any ship. she's a very well written female character actually and you all should be nicer to my girl okay ‼️

song i associate with them: koukai no uta by sayuri; value by ado

favorite picture of them: oh my god LOOK AT MY GIRL !!!!! this scene lives in my head rent free considering what happened afterwards between atsulucy. I just think. you thought this stupid weretiger could storm in thinking he could ever understand you and it turns out he does understand you and for the first time in your life you choose to place your faith and trust in someone sincerely, not for gain like your alliance with the guild. and then it turns into what? you feel stupid and helpless and left behind but you know it wasn't exactly what happened. regardless. she's sooo. lucy when she's faced with feelings she doesn't know what to do with when she's normally running on anger or something equivalent!!! aaaaa!!!! don't mean this in an atsulucy way I mean this in a lucy character way. AAAAAAAA. I'm really normal about this. go read anne of the green gables ♥️

DAZAI OSAMU

favorite thing about them: the fact that he's literally in love with everyone he cares about ever and this is not about romance, he just is. dazai is so weird about feelings and emotions and caring about people. once he chooses someone, he latches on helplessly and it becomes an irreversible part of his psyche and it's so fascinating to watch this happen in real time — and see how it informs his actions and decisions, like with the meursault arc. god. fucking idiot claims that they're just the hand that feeds him but still went to hell on earth for them. sigma I feel you it's insane to look at dazai osamu and understand his layers.

least favorite thing about them: anything you could think of just makes me more fond of him tbh. once again the more a character sucks the more I'm fond of them and there's only one exception to the rule—

favorite line: less a line and more That scene in beast.... it just makes me go. okay first of all what the fuck. second of all what right does dazai fucking osamu have to make me cry (I wasn't actually aware how fond I am of him until beast <3). thirdly... hm. let's save that for unpopular opinion considering the fanon hallucinations dazai is subject to. I know my real ones get it though

“True… I honestly don’t have a lot of interest in this world. I don’t care what happens to it. At least, I’m sure the me from other possible worlds would say that. However…” Dazai closed his eyes and grinned almost nostalgically. “This is the only world where he’s alive and writing novels. I can’t let that world disappear.”

brOTP: would yall kill me if I said skk. in my defense I did say I don't really ship conventionally for bsd. at the risk of getting anon and probably twitter hate — to ME. and emphasis on me yall are free to do whatever you want. to me skk are sibling-coded partners who've been falling into bed together since they were teenagers and understand each other better than anyone else in ways no one can understand at the same time as not seeing and understanding the parts of them that only their friends in their respective organizations are privy to. feel free to send me asks about this I've ranted aimlessly in dms enough for a badly worded public rant

OTP: okay so there's two,

fyozai. heart eyes. two geniuses with such contrasting views on humanity and excluded from humanity. no longer human literally translating to smth similar to that + crime and punishment being what it Is. you know. dazai when he's fascinated by humanity and fyodor when he looks down on it. neither of them caring much about humanity to begin with — their mutual mind games, THE MEURSAULT SEQUENCES HELLO? yeah. Yeah. I'm really normal about how they seemingly understand each other but . wauuyygfh.

dazango. people are going to shoot me for dead and leave me on the streets for this but I heart divorce. demisexual ango the activation key being betrayal + the death of your mutual best friend. dazai is literally ango's crazy ex wife. he is crazy exwifeing what with the intentional car crashes and whatever was going through his head during meursault. imagine this fucker walking up to ango like. I'm gonna get myself arrested btw and you need to help me. ango vc there is something deeply wrong with you. dazai is breaking into his apartment at ungodly hours whether he's there or not and torturing him with fun antics like putting arsenic in his coffee. he hates and can't let go of ango. he doesn't know whether he hates ango or if that's his best friend still. he tells himself he hates ango but so many things point to the contrary. ango is wracked with guilt forever and he's fucking tired of dazai's antics and shenanigans but he'll never tell dazai to get out. divorced never touched and in love. to me (and kavi. heart eyes again). said flippantly btw don't take that entirely seriously please ♥️

nOTP: winces. okay in theory I'm not fond of romantic dazatsu or dazaku but you could convince me to read interesting fics although I never open the bsd tags on ao3 for how picky I am about characterization lmao . I will say that it's often problematic fics that get dazaku right to me if only because those are the people usually willing to examine their relationship as it is without sanitizing it. <3

random headcanon: hmmm. i did do sexuality hcs for 3H right. so: he's genderweird aroacespec in the demi direction and and probably doesn't realize this beyond "not too into that" because he sleeps around sometimes and it's usually with people like chuuya or kunikida and he's like. lowkey in love with them in weird and undefined ways so. does that make sense. it does to me idk

unpopular opinion: woooh continuing off what I said about his line in beast. i'm not gonna elaborate much so feel free to hmu on asks or discord again but. I fully believe that dazai would've gone along with fyodor's plan and all if he didn't love the ada. he loves them all and they're his home; of course he cares. they're some of the biggest reasons he believes in the goodness of humanity and is so fascinated by them. everyone say thank you taneda for directing dazai to the ada or bsd would be doomed I fear....

song i associate with them: timeless by takasetoya and mahiru, the reluctant heroes by sawano hiroyuki

favorite picture of them: this was the first thing that popped into my head the minute I read this ask. like. SORRY FOR BEING INSANE. I GUESS. sometimes you go to meet your ex wife with a gun unloaded full knowing he's going to risk shooting you. knowing he knows. knowing he hates you but you're the first person he'll turn to and place his trust in when he needs it, even if he frames it as pieces falling into place perfectly in his plan. god.

coughs. anyway. thank u for the ask !!!

#bsd #lucy maud montgomery #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #asks #mari rambles #ask games

12 notes · View notes

wren-galathinyus · 8 months ago

Text

alright bitches, screaming into the void again, act two of the second season just dropped and I am sobbing and inconsolable, as always, spoilers for arcane season two under the cut

-CAIT AND MADDIE?????? YOURE FUCKING KIDDING ME?????? HOW DARE THEY. the scream i scrumpt. but okay genuinely, I'm very curious how that dynamic works and started, I really am praying that it's just a casual thing and cait sort of rebounding, because to me caitvi is always gonna be endgame (side note, get it I guess, at least one of the girlies is getting laid)

-also I loved the paint the town blue music intro and how it can be interpreted and the way both sides can be seen with so much nuance but also how both sides can feel black and white about each other

-Mel being a bastard child is genuinely so funny to me with the notion that Mel didn't believe that her mother could fall in love, and now she's stuck with these freaky magic people. it's actually so interesting as it reminds me of the sorcerer class in dnd and how magic is inherent in the blood, but also, if you're a wizard, it's something you learn. as seen with Mel and the people that learn the arcane (the guy that saved baby jayce) (also the artificer which is everyone who utilises modern hextech, but specifically the inventors)

-the reuniting of Vi and Jinx!!! omg the tension, the grudge being held, but also the very clear longing for the sisterhood to be rekindled. and how this time, when Vi hits Isha (even though by accident) there's someone there to smile and ask if she's okay and to keep going. something something breaking the cycle of trauma.

-then to add onto that the fam reunion of Vi Jinx and Vander! and of course the fact that Vi chose to trust, again. despite how many times her trust has been broken and betrayed, she trusted again, and it payed off, because even if only for a couple days, she had a father back. she had a family, this time with a new younger sister addition

-and to add onto that even further!! the reunion of all of them with cait!! all of them are chosing trust and chosing forgiveness to try fight for a greater good and a future they wanted to fund!!

-the small family dynamic in the first episode that is sevika, Jinx and isha is so perfect to me. and I find it so curious that with isha, Jinx wants to leave behind revolution and violence to try and have something bordering on domestic. idk, I just love the three of them and how they would go to any end to save each other

-meeting young vander, silco, and the girls mum! it all started out so pure with so much hope. they wanted to leave a legacy and a world where you could raise children. and though they have failed initially, those children are now picking up the mantle. brimstone and blisters is an amazing phrase and goal

-small side note, I love seeing sevika try to step into a leadership role

-y'all what happened to ekko???? please, why is he on the mural?? I swear he better be in the final act. but I love to see that the fireflys are still thriving

-viktor and jayce truly are doomed yaoi and it's going to doom the whole rest of the narrative... and I kinda love that for them. all jokes aside though, it's amazing to see both of their developments and how viktor grew and created this amazing (if very uncanny valley) society (cult), and jayce, tormented by the touch of the arcane, driven close to madness, is so destructive. and despite one promoting growth, the other destruction, I'm actually not sure which one of them is in the right! like is the hexcore inherently evil and thus viktor and his community, or is Jayce delusional and going to self destruct in the worst possible way? or both! or neither! we'll see

-haha omg Jinx not being recognised and then also being laughed at for her pants

-the warden of stillwater is dead and all I can say is thank fuck 😌

-the scene in the prison! holy fuck. Jinx and sevika releasing everyone and Jinx making the sarcastic proclamation, only to be met with genuine connection from her fellow Zaunites. all of them touching her shoulder as they pass. "we see you, we know that you have done bad, we choose you, you are our hope" is what it says to me. and you can see that it really gets to Jinx, that she's having this holy shit people cherish me moment

-ambessa is amazing and awful. I don't love her but what a character she is. she's driven and corrupt and full of so much love and hate (fuck that other guy tho, the one that always stands near her who I can't be bothered to remember the name of, glad he dies, acab)

-so much diverse animation in these three episodes you absolutely love to see it! vander with his almost abstract view of the world when he's in a rage, only seeing in colours of blood red. the way that isha sees the world in her childlike sketch while reliving moments. the soft and peaceful almost watercolour sketch of vanders mind behind Warwick's animal brain. how much peace and love goes into every detail of this show will never cease to amaze me

-that one guy will never catch a break from Vi and it's the funniest running joke in the series

-Caitlyns face when Vi calls her cupcake

-the way Jinx draws her name under her eye with Vi's pitfighter paint in the same fashion as Vi's tattoo. it really says to me that Jinx still idolises her and wants to be like her sister still, no matter how much they've changed. while also accepting that there are parts of each other that neither want

-Caits character... ooh boy this one's a doozy. so yes, fascist dictator style, but we still see remorse from her. a want for things to be better for everyone. the deep desire to be able to change things for the better without mass acts of violence. but again clinging to the need for revenge. at least at the start. she still very much betrays ambessa when she sees how much pain she's willing to cause to fuel her own purpose though. I think she's come to terms with the fact that what she wants is something she has to try to achieve without becoming a monster. she's deeply flawed. she's amazingly complex. I'm in love with her. she's a cop. she's a heartbroken daughter. she wants to fix the world. she may have broken it a little under the deeply misguided tutelage of Noxus. I really can't wait to see her in the final act. especially since I believe she is going to be part of the revolution now

-Jinx calling the gauntlets bitch mittens 😂😂

-he's your father too (ouch)

-yknow, genuinely thought the pitfighter arc was gonna be longer than that but I'm not too bothered by it. I'm also really glad to see that Vi is allowed to be wrong! she is amazing but also makes a lot of mistakes, and she has people in her life that aren't afraid to call her out for her shit. I feel like a lot of people think she can do no wrong because she feels like the main protagonist, but the show continues to remind you that she's just a person, and one who is deeply fucked up by her trauma, but she is trying her best

-also just noticed the detail of the black rose having the red galaxy as their sort of ethereal plane, while viktors is a deep blue. I wonder if that's to do with the combating magics that they posses and if they are in opposition, whether thematically, morally, or any other kind of way. just thought it was cool

-also is it just me or does the dog on Vi's jacket look like a domesticated version of the wolf that Singed used to revive Vander??

-the way that both Vi and Jinx sound like their mother

-the hug? I actually cried

-and finally. omg isha why??!?!?!?!? holy fuck I know that it was desperate, but child just pulled a season one act one powder move. what is the fallout of this explosion gonna look like? are we going to lose vander for a second time? is isha gonna die? how will our main crew fare? I can't wait for the final act. it's gonna be amazing!!!

-I lied, final final thought, Cait disarming Vi was so funny (and also hot)

sorry is none of this is very articulate or if some of it is a bit repetitive, but I needed to get it out of my system. please feel free to add thoughts or even tell me if you think I've got some things wrong!

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #useless ramblings #screaming crying throwing up #actually genuinely cried though

17 notes · View notes

signetrings · 4 months ago

Text

i'm backkk and with some minor changes and some updates.

i've decided to drop my sideblog @polyjuiceds ( it's password protected right now as i don't want to delete anything yet ). anyone following that blog is welcome to unfollow it. i'm hoping this stops me from being overwhelmed or deep in my head about certain things, and so i can just prioritize draco which was happening anyway

i've added a pjo verse for draco! it's not completely fleshed out yet, but i'll update his bio with extra details once i get brainstorming.

i've also added some exclusive ship verses ( ie. hunger games, zombie apocalypse, etc. ) if anyone wants to write / plot any platonic or antagonistic dynamics for them!

draco has an exclusive ginny, so i will not be shipping drinny with anyone other than berry over at @ofconnectedsouls. my pinned will reflect this change.

i very much enjoy writing on discord again, so if we've been writing here and you're down to write on discord too, let me know! i typically only give my discord out to people i talk to frequently, so this is only for folks i've written on tumblr with before <3

i gained a few followers while i was gone ( wild ), so this is a friendly reminder that i have an interest tracker that anyone's welcome to fill out to get something going ( you can always message me too hehe ).

i may go through my drafts and delete some. if there's a thread you're still waiting out for, please let me know! i just don't want to spend time on replying if it's something that'll be dropped after i get to it.

i know my break wasn't terribly long, but i still feel hella rusty writing draco so please forgive me as i try to find his voice again.

#ooc.

8 notes · View notes

frickingnerd · 1 year ago

Text

i’ll lie & you'll believe it

pairing: sayaka maizono x gn!yandere!reader

summary: sayaka ends up kidnapped by an obsessive fan of hers. but is that really that bad…?

tags: kidnapped!sayaka, yandere!reader, plot twist, submissive!reader x controlling!sayaka, switch in power dynamic, sayaka manipulating reader into doing what she wants

“you're just as pretty in person as you are on tv…”

your fingers gently traced over sayaka's face. lifting up her chin, running a thumb over her bottom lip and softly caressing her cheek. you had dreamed of this for so long. and sayaka was every bit as perfect as you had imagined.

“p-please… don't hurt me…”

sayaka whispered underneath her breath. she didn't dare move. she had been still ever since you put those chains on her. she really was as obedient as you had always imagined. even if those teary eyes were annoying you a little…

“hurting you is the last thing i'd do. you know that! i love you, sayaka! and you love me too, don't you?”

you smiled at sayaka, eagerly awaiting her answer. but she didn't reply. she just sat there, as still and stiff as those figures you owned of her.

“DON'T YOU–!?”

you raised your voice, causing sayaka to flinch, before breaking out into tears. immediately, you regretted your actions, panicking a little. you wrapped your arms around sayaka, trying to comfort her again.

“i-i'm sorry–! i just lost my temper, i didn't mean it… please, i can't take it when you cry! smile for me again, sayaka. you're so pretty when you smile… p-please…”

sayaka quietly sobbed in your arms. she didn't dare move again. she was clearly frightened and you hated seeing her like this. why couldn't she see that you were harmless? that you'd never hurt her! sure, you kidnapped her and locked her away, but that was out of love!

“sayaka, please forgive me… i-i'll do anything if you stop crying… please please please…”

slowly, her sobbing stopped. you carefully pulled away from her again, eagerly awaiting her to tell you that everything was alright. to smile at you again. or at least tell you what you could to make her happy…

“i want those cuffs off…”

sayaka mumbled, raising her cuffed hands.

“you know i can't do that. you'll run away.” you sighed. “let me do something else for you, please. anything but taking off the cuffs”

sayaka remained silent. you could see she was thinking and you hoped this could be a request you could fulfill her.

“then… proof to me that you truly love me”

her request caught you off guard.

“y-yes, i do! i mean, i'll do it, of course–! just tell me how i can do it and–”

“there's someone i want you to get rid of for me…”

you thought you didn't hear right. your precious, innocent sayaka wanted you to kill someone for her. if she wanted someone dead, they must be a truly vile person.

“tell me all about them! i-i promise, i'll kill anyone you want for you, if it means you'll trust me and believe that i truly love you!”

a small smile hushed over sayaka's lips. so quickly, that you could barely even pick up on it.

getting you to do her dirty work really was too easy. sayaka might've been the ones in chains, yet she still held control of this situation. you weren't a threat to her. if anything, she was a threat to you!

but you were too blinded by your love for sayaka, to realize that she had let this all happen, for this very moment. so her hands stayed clean, while you did the killing for her. so that she'd be saved once you were caught and could play the victim.

why else was it so easy for you to kidnap her, if not for sayaka wanting to end up here?

39 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 2 years ago

Text

Fic Finder

~*~

1. Hi! For the next fic finder, can you please help me find a modern wangxian omegaverse? Its a survival dating show where the participant doing challange with their choice of partner. JYL and JZX was mentioned as a participant in previous season. At the last challange, it's a mating run where WWX and LWJ get trapped in a cave because of earthquake. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! 🧡 shoot your shot -- hot or knot by defractum (nyargles) (E, 51k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Reality Show, Hunger Games Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes)

~*~

2. hello! it's been bugging me and I'm thinking of this fic where lxc turns himself into a baby and wangxian end up having to raise him all over again bc he leaves a letter telling them he doesn't want to remember all the sworn brother debacle??? I can't find it AT ALL I'm going crazy please helpp... and thank you for your hard work all the time we really appreciate it !!!!!

FOUND? how do i forgive myself (for losing so much time) by thunderwear (M, 26k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kid Fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition, of sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, yunmeng bros reconciliation, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Pining, 50 percent angst and 50 percent domestic fluff, read end notes for warnings, Post-Canon)

~*~

3. Hi hi! Im trying to find this one fic its alternate - canon divergence, where Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing get married / together and thanks to that the remnants are safe, the stygian amulet is made into a bracelet I thinnnk, and the whole story Jin Guanshan and JGY are trying to use sect politics to get it from then, at almost the end someone tries to drown Wei Wuxian at Lotus pier, and there’s a confrontation with JGY, Xue Yang and WangXian / Jiang/Wens where everything is revealed? Thank you!!! @memeismemeismeme

was the person who tried to drown wwx Jin Zixun, and did wwx somehow access LWJ’s core from afar?

FOUND! Hope Dangling by a String by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing) Isn't #3 "hope dangling from a string"? The drawing/core accessing is in chapter 11

~*~

4. Hi!!! I've read this before, I just stopped reading it because it's still WIP.

What I remember is that it's like a Time Travel fix-it story?? But instead of Wei Wuxian, it's Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng that got sent back and tries to make everything right ??

THANK YOU IN ADVANCE!!!! @gideonmorningstar

FOUND? ❤️ For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, WangXian, Time Travel, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ)

FOUND? A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 44k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX)

FOUND? Brother-In-Law's by Loveable_Psychopath (M, 324k, WIP, XuanLi, WangXian, Memories, Butterfly Effect, Sexual assualt, Self Harm / Self Doubt, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Recovery, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Warning: JGS, Emotional Manipulation, Time Travel Fix-It, Second Chances)

~*~

5. Hey so I can't find this one fic

Wei ying is a hitch hiker and he ends up going with lan wangji who's on his own roadtrip when he meets him at a gas station and in the end we find the reason why he's hitch hiking and on the run @yilingpatriarchsimp

FOUND? vintage youth by sami (E, 13k, WangXian, Modern AU, references to past LWJ/others, references to past WWX/WQ, Family, Sexual Tension, set in the early 90s, Background Xicheng) I think #5 is vintage youth by sami, this is how wangxian run into each other at the beginning.

~*~

6. Help please? I think it was on tumblr here. Modern day fic where Madam Lan is alive and LZ and WY get together as teens but the Jiang's kick WY out and he comes to live with the Lans who all love and adore him. Later on LX brings Meng Yao, who he is dating, to met the family. Meng Yao doesn't get a warm reception and gets jealous of how the Lans treat WY. LX then explains WY history with the Lan family which Meng Yao tries to use against WY. The family then gets mad at LX for telling. Thanks! @isis-moon

~*~

7. hi hi hope you're doing well hehe

was wondering if someone knows about this fic where wwx gets kidnapped and lwj uses chenqing to find him

thank you!!

FOUND? something wild calls you home by Fleetling (T, 8k, WangXian, Kidnapping, nhs is only there briefly, resentful energy, the fic where lwj plays chenqing, Rescue, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, Happy Ending)

~*~

8. Hi, for the fic finder, hope you guys can help me. I am looking for i fic a saw i while a go it was an arranged marriage, female Wei Ying, where the Lans are like tea merchants (?) i think, and Lan Zhan was being pressure to get married and he ends up choosing Wei Ying to marry because she was ''unkidnappable''. The Nie brothers are also in the stories as sisters. The fic had about 8 to 10 chapters, i cant find again and i think i had seen it in a post here but im not sure, pls help @omgnuttytale

FOUND! a harmony between qin and se by Alaceron (E, 62k, WangXian, Gender Changes, Historical, Female WWX)

~*~

9. I lost this fic ages ago and have no clue how to find it: WWX and JC have just gotten to gusu for lectures and plan for WWX to ask the LAN for sanctuary to get away from Madam Yu. I remember in a chapter WWX explains to LXC why he's asking for sanctuary and shows the whip marks on his back and is rushed to the healers.

Even if no one finds it thanks for the work you out into this blog, it's a Delight 💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜

FOUND! Sanctuary by lindgrsl77 (Not Rated, 13k, WIP, WangXian, Abuse, not graphic, Protective Siblings, LXC is a big brother to all, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

10. hello im in search of a fic but i cant recall the plot im so sorry 😞 i only remember that the fic uses the chinese names of the locations in mdzs (buye tian, luanzung gang etc), not the english translations. it's possibly a canon divergence fic or a time travel one. im sorry if i can't provide more data but i would appreciate any help thank you

FOUND! Restoration by ritualist (M, 84k, WangXian, Fairy Tale Elements, Non-Linear Narrative, Time Skips, Time Shenanigans, YLLZ WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Sunshot Campaign, Politics, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, JGS Is His Own Content Warning, Necromancy, Surgery, Identity Issues, Masks, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Love at First Sight, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

11. Looking for two fics:

A) The one where wwx explodes a wen’s head because they were going to kill lwj. I remember wwx being injured in this fic and constantly in bed save for sitting at the table working on wards and talismans. He made talismans for lwj to use while he was away fighting. I remember jzx helping wwx change his bandages and helping him to the battle field because he couldn’t walk well. On the battle field wwx sees lwj about to be killed by a wen and makes the wen’s head explode. I think lwj in that scene chose his last view to be the sky instead of his killer’s face but he instead got covered in blood and brain matter. All this takes place in cloud recesses btw.

B) The one where wwx is immortal (i think) and lwj lives in the burial mounds with him and the wen remnants. I’m not sure how they get to this point but they travel to Qinghe to ask for his help with something I think but wwx ends up sending nmj is dying and helps him too. I remember more or less the conversation when wwx met nmj went like “huh this is a bit awkward. Sorry to ask but you DO know you’re dying right?” And nmj responds something like “yes, I’m aware.”

Thanks for your time and help! 💜 @jikcf

11A)

FOUND? 🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending)

11B)

FOUND? 💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Pining, slow burn, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, bottom LWJ)

~*~

12. Hi! Please help me find these two series A) This one is of Jin Zixuan seeing Wei Wuxian kind of sickly and deciding tot ake care of him, int he series is different AU's but it's more of Jin Zixuan being a little stabby. Um in one of the fics of the series it was revealed that Jin Zixun is an ahh because Jin Guangshit decided to groom him and you know. B) This one is more mature because it's of wangxian teaching xicheng how to spice up their sex life by teaching them foreplay and so on

Um Hi again. I'm asking for two again one series and one also series but I'm more looking for the first book. C) So wei wuxian accidentally pulls off lan wangji's ribbon and the two get married, in the 2nd fic of the series it's of wei wuxian saying he wants a divorce but just lists more stuff of them being a cute couple D) This fic is of wangxian during cloud recesses era and wei wuxian is trans ftm. I believe it might have time travelling that's all I remember sorry

E) Hi again for the third time, instead of two books I'm asking for one. This is modern au and college au. Wangxian are roommates and I believe both of them or just Lan Wangji is/are a musician but Lan Wangji is deaf. and Nie Huaisang is kind of protective of Lan Wangji but yeah @thatperson0-0

12A)

FOUND? Coping Techniques for the Clueless and Socially Disadvantaged by meyari (G, 2k, Pre-Relationship, background wangxian, Slice of Life, slice of war, PTSD, Canon Compliant, Sunshot Campaign) One of my favorites.

12C)

FOUND? A Ribbon Beats a Red String of Fate (Restricted) Series by Titans_R_Us (T, 16k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Fluff and Crack, supportive families, Mutual Pining, Temporary Separation)

12D)

FOUND? 💖 It is a serious thing just to be alive by Itgoeson (E, 57k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Established Relationship, Trans Male Character, Happy Ending, transphobia does not exist because i simply Do Not Vibe with it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grinding, mentions of dysphoria, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign) the first fic in the Invitation ‘Verse series

12E)

FOUND? Comfortable Silence by WritersBlock823 (rdlaserna) (E, 65k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Deaf!musician LWJ, College/University, Musician WWX, Rimming, Anal Sex, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Oral Sex, Dry Humping, minor breath play, Anal Fingering, Accidental Semi-public Exhibitionism, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Fluff, Deep Throating, Sexual Harassment, Minor Violence, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending)

~*~

13. Hi, can you pls help me find a pic,

It's Modern au, lan zhan got into an accident and lost his memories. The fic also have moon river song as wangji's favourite song hus mother used to sing. It was full of insecurities and wangji wondering if he's a good enough partner and all.

I basically remember the whole fic but forgot the name and can't seem to find it.

Thank you for the help @vantae0417

In the fic wei ying was not a musician but was married to lan zhan already and they were living together and basically wei ying was being a brat and asked wangji to buy him chocolate milk and wangji got into an accident while getting it, when wangji woke up he had forgotten wei ying and about their relationship, so when he found out he he got a husband now get got all insecure because we'll wei ying was acting nervous and almost crying because he felt guilty for accident but wangji thought that he was a abusive husband and that is marriage was not a good one and all

After they went home and some wei ying cried and told him about his guilt wangji asked him if he's not a good husband and wei ying comforted wangji.

They were both probably teachers in this fic and were about to adopt yuan

is Wei ying a music store owner and was Lan zhan involved with crime?

NOT FOUND! Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist, Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx's biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

FOUND! remind me why I love you by AG1234VL (M, 44k, WangXian, Minor XiCheng, Past XiYao, Modern AU, Temporary Amnesia, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, sort-of crack treated seriously, WangXian Pining, Except They're Already Married, Hair Brushing, Childhood Trauma, Past Abuse L, Fluff and Angst, Crying WWX, Jealous LWJ, Forehead Kisses, Family Feels, Bottom!LWJ, versatile!wangxian, smitten!lwj, flirty!wwx, horny!wangxian, Mental Illness, Non-main Character Suicide, Non-Sexual Intimacy, but also sexual intimacy, brief discussions about grief)

~*~

14. Hello, me again! 😆 I'm looking for another wangxian fic that I would like to re-read. What I remember is: Jiang Cheng kills Lan Zhan in some sort of time travel ritual (?). Jiang Cheng then goes back to the past, but the ritual has erased Lan Wangji from existence. Even so, in this new timeline both Lan Xichen & Wei Ying feel that something/someone is missing. JC eventually reverses the ritual, LZ comes back, and LX & WY are NOT happy with the revelations. Please help me find it! 😢 @dreammaiden21

~*~

15. I lost a fic! It is pre-WangXian and is told from, I think, alternate POV of LXC and JC (it is not XiCheng, that I remember, it's just from their perspectives). It's post Sunshot and Jiang Cheng uses an old treaty with the Lan that was some kind of "in the future" betrothal agreement in order to open negotiations for trade, using WWX as the bait. What I remember is that he was not expecting the Lan to take it seriously, but LWJ VERY MUCH DID. Help? @kimboo-york

FOUND! Alas, Disasterous Miscalculations Align Sects with Sudden Summer Weddings by mondengel (G, 3k, WangXian, Humor, Arranged Marriage)

~*~

16. Hello!! I've been trying to find a fic where Lwj doesn't know that the elders told Lsz to stop calling him a-die, and just assumed it was Lsz's choice. It hurt him, but he didn't complain because he wanted it to be Lsz's choice. When Wwx comes back and Lsz is really close with him and starts calling him baba, Lwj starts thinking that Lsz stopped seeing him as a father back then because he was such an awful father that even someone who didn't get to raise him (Wwx) still managed to be a better father in the little time he had. I remember he feels guilty for feeling jealous of the close relationship Wwx and Lsz have. He gets depressed about it, and Wwx notices. He questions Lwj and Lwj confesses everythingto him. Wwx goes to inquire Lsz about why he treats Lwj so impersonally and formally. I think Lz has a panic attack at some point.

SIMILAR! The seasons change (but I love you the same) by kdkdkd (G, 7k, WangXian, Single Father LWJ, Thirteen Years, Fatherhood, Growing Up, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, Insecurity, Love, Canon Compliant, headcanons, Music Hall, Single Parent LWJ, Dad LWJ, Badass LWJ, Annoying Lan Elders get put in their place and fired, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death) is very similar but set when Lan Yuan is still a child

FOUND? Silver & Gold by beeswaxing (E, 198k, wangxian, JL/LSZ, LJY/OYZZ, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Age Regression/De-Aging, Fix-It of Sorts, Family Bonding, Established Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Literal Sleeping Together, Romance, BAMF WWX, Mutual Pining, Horny Teenagers, Underage Kissing, Protective WWX, Fluff) could be Silver and Gold by Beeswaxing, chapter 13, scene below the delicious pic of WWX. WWX is questioning LSZ about what he calls LWJ and why.

~*~

17. I'm going crazy looking for a fic I read where the Wen remnants send wwx and a-yuan away to Qinghe to look for help destroying the yin amulet, and somewhere along the line: wwx finds out the wens intended for them not to come back via a letter wq left, nmj and wwx exchange secrets(golden core + nie sabers), and I believe it ends with them giving the current nie ancestors the amulet to fight for eternity, instead of spirits and corpses. I am in your debt if you can find it <;3 @tupperwareofoddities

FOUND! The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

~*~

18. Hi! A friend recommended me a fic and neither of us can find it anywhere. I really want to read it and am hoping you or your followers can help.

it's jiang cheng-centric, set largely at lotus pier, he does embroidery (and it *is* complete, so it's not The Fic You Can Find By Searching For Embroidery), definitely post-sunshot and i think probably post-canon, and he *might* have been like cursed or something

Thank you for all the work you do! @cadencekismet

~*~

19. Hi (＾▽＾) for the fic finder I have been looking for one set after the SSC, LQR is humming? whistling? a lan song at WWX that reveal that WWX is possets? and he then quickly beg LQR for help before the thing posessing? him take control again. hope you have a great day/night! thanks a lot! you are amazing people ♡

FOUND! A Kiss to Break a Curse (or rather, Possession.) by Silver_Flame_2724 (T, 1k, WangXian, Demonic Possession, Lán Music, Magical Kisses, Love Confessions, Sort of?, more like, Marriage Proposal, Alchemy, Pills, Fluff)

~*~

20. Hello, I'm wondering if you know or might be able to help find a fic. It's a modern au, WQ and WN inherit a run-down house, and WWX is ride or die for them, of course, only to be surprised when both LWJ and JC are equally willing to put their lives on hold to support. JYL and JZX are together and the only reason she doesn't go with is that she's heavily pregnant. Also inc. Madam Yu not telling the boys that JYL had gone into labour as it was 'their fault for leaving in the first place'. Thank you in advance for any help! @katonahottinroof

are they fixing up the run down house?

NOT FOUND! Once Upon a Place by zeldasayre (E, 80k, WangXian, House restoration, Falling In Love, Misunderstandings, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bisexual WWX, Trans Male WWX, Gay LWJ, JYL & LWJ Friendship, Modern AU, Set somewhere in America, Tattoo Artist WWX, Librarian LWJ, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Domestic) is the one I'm thinking abt

FOUND! the ship sways but the heart is steady by taizi (T, 9k, WangXian, ChengQing, Modern AU, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Protective JC, Soft WangXian)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

124 notes · View notes