#shadow's heart chapter 8 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notmyneighbor · 6 months

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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 8

Word Count ~ 4.6k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, slight breeding kink, body horror, minor violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You always have to be extra careful when one of the Sverchzt sisters is asking to enter the building.

Twins, and both of them nearly identical, save for the location of the mole on the cheek: on the right for Selenne, the left for Elenois. Both employed as models, with the same hourglass figures, full, painted lips, long lashes, and breathy voices accented with something exotically European sounding. You always feel very plain and lacking around them; it was like being back in school again as the shy, unpopular girl, envying the pretty cheerleaders that seemed to have it all.

But you don’t feel inadequate today, still buoyed up from your feelings of being with Francis’ doppelgänger all weekend. You look over the identification card and entry request, finding everything in order. The elegant woman is on the day’s list of expected entrants, too. You’re nearly ready to hit the switch to grant her access into the apartments, still reminiscing about your fiancé, when something in you, some sixth sense kicking in, cautions you that you should probably call the apartment, just to be certain. There is nothing visually you can identify that is incorrect about the haughty woman on the opposite side of the glass, who is now folding her arms across her ample chest, the polished nail of an index finger tapping against the porcelain skin of one slender forearm. An impatient gesture you’ve seen Selenne make before, dozens of times. Nothing suspicious about the documents, either. But still, you feel it is better to be safe than sorry.

You already know all the residents’ phone numbers by heart now, the quick four digit extensions granting you rapid access.

“Hello. Elenois speaking. My sister and I are both at home today. We are not expecting any visitors.”

“Thank you.” You keep your expression calm, hurriedly flipping the plastic shield down and depressing the button to sound the alarm, catching one last glimpse of the doppelgänger, the crimson polished nails now scratching at the glass pane, the eyes with the lids shadowed in lavender streaked and bloodshot, the plush lips parting to expose yellow fangs dripping spittle before the shutters finish descending. You phone the disposal team, still maintaining your composure.

Close. That had been too close. You had to concentrate. Focus.

The day progresses and you find yourself getting back into the rhythm of things. Wondering how your pretender beau had decided which members of his squadron to sacrifice, sending them to the building to meet their doom to throw the DDD off the trail. What would happen when the numbers dwindled, when there were none left to send? Did the faded mark he’d left behind still shield you? Or did it only make you more desireable, like what had happened with the replicant who looked like Izaack Gauss?

You’re picking at the peeling varnish of the battered desk during the afternoon lull when someone walks into the building and your heart stops.

Francis.

Not the original, and not your doppel, either. This one is nearly a dead ringer, except for the nose that’s not quite right, the tip slightly larger, the nostrils a little more flared.

It had never occurred to you that there would still be other versions of the milkman walking around. Where has he been all this time?

“Mmm…hello.” The customary greeting the genuine version had always adopted. He slides an ID card through the slot.

“Entry request?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot. Here it is.” The smile breaks your heart. His smile. Only not.

You stare at the document for long moments. Everything looks correct: the document expiration date present and set for the future; the serial number identical to what you have on file; the logo of your organization in plain sight; the stated reason for the alleged milkman’s absence logical. All of the elements appear as they should, save for that slightly mismatched nose in the photograph and entry request.

“Is there a problem?”

Your eyes lift to meet his. Why are you drawing this out?

“Your appearance,” you answer distractedly.

“Yes? What about it? Doesn’t it match the picture?”

You shake your head, reaching for the alarm button. “I’m sorry.” It’s foolish, being this sentimental. No reason for it. You know the real Francis is gone. You know it’s not the invader you’ve fallen for.

Alarm blossoms on the fake milkman’s features. His hands clasp together. “Wait, please…I’ll leave. Just…I don’t want to die.”

You freeze. This was new. The doppels always reacted with anger when their cover was blown. You’ve never had one beg for their life before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Was it true? Were there others that were willing to coexist peacefully? Had you incorrectly assumed they all sought the same goal, replacing humans and ruling over the planet, the one remarkable exception being your lover?

Or was this just a new tactic that they’d adopted, evolving, learning, adapting better to human weaknesses?

You had no way of knowing which it was.

“I can’t,” you say. “I’m sorry.” You slam your fist against the alarm switch before the replicant tries to escape, that same soft, pleading look haunting you as the shutter descends. The cleaners arrive and you cover your ears with your hands. You don’t want to listen to it. You can’t.

There are tears in your eyes when the figure in the yellow hazmat suit declares you are now able to return to your job.

***

The replicant milkman—yours, you note with relief—arrives later that afternoon, hastily adjusting the cap on his head, offering a brief glimpse of the perspiration from the heat outdoors lining his brow, his tousled brown locks damp, plastered against his forehead. He’s already smiling before he’s even reached the window, hurriedly thrusting his document and ID card through the slot, and something else, something that sounds metallic against the shallow stainless opening at the bottom of the window.

You reach for it, realizing what it is the second your fingers close over the object: your engagement ring.

The DDD had ceased its surveillance of the security booth, the resources and manpower needed elsewhere, apparently, so their is no longer the camera or the person watching it to worry about. You stare at the solitaire diamond, at the pretty filigree decorating the band on either side of it, and the tears that had been threatening to spill earlier come pouring out of you, a messy amalgamation of guilt and fear and relief releasing in that sudden cascade.

“Sweetheart, you like it that much? I’m so glad, I wasn’t sure…” His voice trails off. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, absently hitting the buzzer to let him in, then hitting its partner to shut the door behind him.

The door to the security booth opens. “Oh, Francis.” You throw your arms around his neck, burrowing along his shirt collar while he rubs soothing circles on your back.

“What is it, love?”

“I’ve had such a terrible day. I almost let in a doppel by mistake this morning, and just a little while ago there was a doppel that looked like Francis.”

“Sweet girl.” His arms tighten around you.

“He begged for his life, Francis. I’ve never seen that before. It was so difficult to call the team. But I had to. I had to do it. I didn’t know if he really meant he wouldn’t harm anyone, or if he was lying. I couldn’t risk him hurting the residents inside.”

“Of course you did, love.”

“How many copies of him are there? Just roaming around the city?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t Francis and it wasn’t me. They were just trying to trick you, and you didn’t fall for it. You did the right thing. I know it was difficult for you. I know why, love. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

You remain in his arms, letting the comfort he’s offering seep into you. He does understand, better than anyone else ever could. After a time you draw back, sniffling. The ring is still clutched tightly in your fist. You relax your palm, spreading your fingers so you can admire the piece of jewelry again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. It’s lovely, Francis. Perfect.”

The imposter smoothes the last of the tears away and kneels down, gently plucking the ring from your right hand, then reaches for your left one, sliding the diamond band onto your ring finger and kissing the back of your hand.

The sound of a throat being cleared at the window interrupts the moment. You jump, startled. It’s the pilot.

“Dropping off more paperwork, doll?” Steven Rudboys grins, sliding his card and request form towards you.

You blush, aware of your fiancé rising to his feet beside you, frowning. Of course he doesn’t understand the reference, from that day when you’d visited the doppel so early on, when he’d slipped you the invitation to come to the apartment.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” the man with the Mohawk says, his eyes lingering on the ring. “I always knew you two would end up together. Took you long enough, Mosses,” he adds, shooting the imposter milkman a sharp glance. “Don’t know what Afton and Stone are waiting for. I thought for sure they would’ve set a date by now. Bet you two don’t wait that long to tie the knot.”

Your cheeks are scarlet, your eyes focused on the documents, checking the day’s schedule. On the day’s list. A quick phone call just to confirm what you already know, allowing the man to enter the apartments once you’ve spoken to his father, heaving a sigh of relief when he’s finally gone from sight.

“I don’t like him,” the pretender says, his voice nearly a growl. “I don’t think Francis ever did, either. Too intrusive.” He turns his attention back to you. “Maybe not the best timing for the ring,” he observes ruefully.

“I’m sorry. I love it. Truly. It’s just been a very hectic, stressful day.”

“Don’t apologize. You have every right to be feeling that way. I think…I hope…I can help with that. Come see me as soon as you get off shift, okay? And be careful. If you need me, call.”

You nod, kissing him before he exits the booth and heads towards the elevator. You stretch your hand out, turning it slightly, watching how the light plays over the facets. It was official. You were engaged. You doubted it would take long for the rumor mill of the apartment building to circulate the news. Poor Francis. He’d be bombarded with well wishers and busybodies. Rudboys was probably going to keep at him mercilessly.

The rest of your shift passes by blessedly uneventfully. It is nearly time for your workday to end. Time to return to your lover waiting for you upstairs, the doppel you’re betrothed to.

***

You tap your knuckles on the door of apartment 3-02, greeted by the copy of the living space’s former owner.

He’s shed the troublesome cap, the ebony bow unknotted and draped around his neck, the first pair of buttons on his shirt undone. He smiles at you. “Hello, future Mrs. Mosses.”

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Do you have proper identification?”

“I seem to have forgotten it.”

He clucks his tongue. “Then I can’t let you in, I’m afraid.”

“Do you accept bribes?”

His lips twitch. “Maybe.” The opening widens. “Come in here.”

You enter and the door closes behind you. “That was easy. I don’t think you’d make a good doorman,” you tease.

“No, but I make up for it elsewhere, don’t I?” He murmurs and you hum in agreement as he slides a hand around your waist, dragging you against him. “It’s torture being away from you. To go from having the weekend together to this long absence all day…” His lips touch yours, traveling to your neck.

“I know. I thought about you all day long.” Your hand rests on his chest. He covers it with his own, toying with the ring on your finger. A little room to move the band, but still secure around the digit. You didn’t wear jewelry often, but the size you’d told him had been the correct one. “I love it, Francis.”

“I’m glad.” Another kiss on your mouth. “I’m hungry for you, love.”

You feel it in his kisses. No longer gentle. Tongue stroking yours roughly. Teeth nipping. You cross the hallway to the bedroom with your fiancé. Unfastening clothing. Yours. His. Impatient to be naked. A button tears from your blouse. “I’ll mend it later,” you say distractedly.

Your back is tucked against his chest, the pair of you standing before the dresser mirror. Your breathing is loud, nearly as loud as his. You would have been mortified to be making so much noise even a month ago. But you have no reason to hide it now. You’re engaged. No one on this floor was going to pretend they didn’t know what goes on with young couples behind closed doors. You’ve heard Afton and Stone going at it before. Not nearly as often or as loud as you and your doppel, though.

You’re about to bend to slide your thigh high nylons off but the copycat halts you, his hand clasping yours above the scalloped lace edge that clings to your leg.

“Leave them on for me? I like them.” He snaps a garter belt playfully, dragging a hand over your lace panties. Something else that was new. You normally wore sensible undergarments beneath your work clothes. But now you had someone to admire what clung to your intimate places. He caresses the space between your legs through the delicate fabric, dragging his hand up to begin massaging your breasts encased in a matching brassiere. “Gorgeous. So beautiful, love.” His mouth worries along your shoulder.

“Are you going to mark me again?”

A pause, his hands and lips freezing. “Do you want me to?”

The low pitch of his voice drags across your core. You’re still frightened of it. But you want it, all the same. You want this creature to claim you. “Yes. Do you?”

The doppelgänger’s lips are by your ear. “Yes, love. But you shouldn’t watch…”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “I want to. I want to see you…”

“Sweetheart…” Hesitant. Perhaps more afraid than you are. To be seen. Exposed. To let the monster off the leash, as it were. Allowing the demon within out to play.

“I trust you.”

He moans softly against your hair. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?”

“I love you.”

A whimper. The thing inside anxious to be let out, scratching and gnawing at the bars of its enclosure, that barrier of human flesh that had once belonged to Francis Mosses. Nails raking across your abdomen. Not enough to puncture the skin, still careful, the barest scrape of the unsheathed claws you can just see emerging now. Tearing at the fabric covering your sex, the material fraying, the embroidered threads coming loose. The crown of chocolate hair lifts and you see his eyes: the doppel’s eyes, peering at your from behind Francis’ sleepy dark ones. Red like blood, like the vessels that burst in surrender, like the lining of those shadowed lower lids. The white sclera of the orbs iridescent, shimmery, identical to the outline of the alien creature clutching you, an unsteady shift in the very particles and atoms that comprise him, things unseen, things not meant to be viewed by a mortal eye. The neat ivory teeth no longer tame incisors and molars, but transformed, sharp like the cuspids of a vampire, ravenous, the drool dripping from them onto your skin.

It is still not what he truly is; that monster well concealed, struggling to maintain control in this tenuous bridged state, not quite one or the other, partly human, partly doppel. What remains of your panties are shoved down, his leaking cock pressing against the curve of one cheek of your buttocks. He pushes against you and you grasp the edge of the dresser, the stained and varnished wood supporting you at a slight angle as he guides his erection inside of you.

Your body is already gushing arousal, welcoming him in. You catch sight of your heaving chest in the mirror, your lingerie encased breasts lifting and straining to burst free, much like the replicant thrusting into you.

He says your name, and it is not Francis’ voice at all. This a summons from deep within, heavy, full of gravel, dragging across your flesh like sandpaper. The wavering, mirage-like border of his pulsing frame feels hot, sticky. Your lashes flutter. The bottles of cologne lining the dresser’s surface tumble down. So deep. He’s so deep inside of you. Shoved in to the hilt each time. And still you want him even further. Impossible. But you crave it. That complete violation. Was this what it felt like to be taken over? You’d imagined it to be painful, terrifying. Instead it was sheer bliss. Your eyes link with his through the oval shaped looking glass once more.

“More, please, Francis…”

He jerks you away from the dresser, still impaled on his cock. Here is the pain you’d anticipated, that searing kiss of teeth piercing your shoulder, sucking the skin over the bone, a burst of stars in front of your eyes, fireworks ricocheting within you as you come undone, your insides splashed with something molten, soaked with your lover’s release. Wet skin, wet pussy, drenched prick, sweat and cum and that thin trail of blood seeping from the wound he’s created, laving rapturously at the taste of you, that very human taste in his very inhuman mouth.

His body shudders against yours. Aftershocks, not from orgasm but the shift back to how he appeared before, the glow dissipating, eyes cleared and gentling, the sharp hooks tipping each finger a replica of Francis’ blunt edged nails once more. Only a few red welts betray those nightmare claws’ existence, where he had become a little too lost in the passion, tattooing the soft flesh of your abdomen. The door to the invader’s cage is sealed shut once again. You hold him upright as much as he holds you steady, slipping free from your entrance, the hot spill of seed leaking down your thighs, seeping into the stockings. You can feel the tremors still spasming, your own nerves quivering with the remnants of pleasure, echoing against you as your lover’s body shares the same sensation. The panting breaths grow quieter. The sound of the Rudboys’ television next door disturbs the stillness. You’d completely missed the audio cue of the curfew horn.

“Sweet girl.” It’s all he can seem to manage, this whispered into your hair. It’s the milkman’s voice again, but it sounds raw, raspy. The vocal chords had been strained, never meant to produce the sounds they had earlier.

You rest your hand on the one clutching your abdomen, the glint of your engagement ring winking, a stubborn sparkle in the glow of the lamp, struggling against the growing darkness in the room as the day’s natural light fails beyond the curtained window.

***

The blackberry jam, pulled from the refrigerator several hours later, is perfect.

Perhaps one of the best batches you’ve ever tasted. You’ve snuck a sample from the unsealed mason jar, unable to wait. You’re already imagining how good that flavor will be when it’s smoothed over the biscuits you’re making with your doppelgänger, his fingers kneading the dough mixture you’ve just created. There is a stray bit of flour dusting his nose where he’d absently stroked an itch along the bridge and you wipe it clear, the touch becoming a lingering caress. He pauses, fingers still dug into the dough, looking at you with that same kind of wonder as he had earlier, after the incident in the bedroom.

As if he cannot believe what you’d asked for, accepted so willingly, eagerly; of the control over his true form he’d been able to maintain, keeping you safe.

Pats of butter melt quickly on the sliced biscuits pulled from the oven. You’re sweating. You need a shower after this for certain. You slather on a generous layer of the sweet fruit spread, offering a bite to your fiancé. He chews, nodding approvingly. There is a stray bit of jam on the corner of his mouth. You cannot resist lapping at it. Licking his mouth open. Tasting the sweetness there. Marveling at how quickly the desire is rekindled. Perhaps you would never be sated. Always this ache, this gnawing want in your center.

Drenched in the shower together. Back out again. Night sounds through the open window. The measured footsteps of a patrol. Soft chatter. A dog barking. You miss your farmhouse. The crickets and the scent of lilac blossoms and your lover in your bed, on cotton sheets that smell like the outdoors, hung on the line to dry in the clear air.

“Francis,” you murmur, your mouth tracing the outline of the crest of one hip, you hand curled around the other. Tasting the soap on his skin, the slight masculine musk as you wander along his groin, swiping your tongue across his cock.

Your shoulder throbs, pulsing in time with the neediness within. You want it again already. Not just the sex, but the other. A strange kind of addiction developing.

Your pussy aches to be filled again. You suck his erection and moan, hastily tucking your hair out of the way. Ravenous. An animalistic slobber. Lips loose. Shoving down as far as you can tolerate. Past it. Insistent, fucking your throat with his dick.

A little gasp of surprise from the doppel. “Easy, love. Don’t waste it. Want to…”

You release his spit soaked member, planting wet kisses back up his stomach, his chest. Crawling over his body until you reach his mouth. “What do you want, Francis?” Your voice a whisper, matching his.

“Oh love, you know what I want.” This huffed beside your cheek. You’re teasing kisses along his jaw, nipping at an ear lobe.

“Tell me. Tell me how you want to fill me up. With your cock. With your cum. Breed me, make a baby…”

You don’t know where the words come from. Another gasp. A growl. You want to impale yourself on him but it’s not the ideal position for getting pregnant. You allow him to shift, moving your body with his, pinning you beneath him.

“Is that what you want, sweet girl?” His hands press into the pillow beneath your head. There are a proper quartet of them now, piled plush cushions for you and your alien lover.

“Yes. Please, Francis…”

His knee parts your legs. Pressure. He’s inside you.

Your head lifts off the pillow and he captures your lips, pressing you back down. Working inside of you slow and steady, fucking you back open.

“There you go, love.” His mouth gentle on yours.

“I need…”

“What? What do you need?”

Your shoulder is on fire. “I want you to mark me again.”

“No, love. It’s too soon for that.” You feel him shake his head, the faint stir of air beside your cheek with the motion.

“It felt so good.”

“I know.”

“Put the light on, then? Let me see you. Let me see what’s inside…”

“No.” His voice loud now, his hips still against yours. “No, it’s too risky.”

“You can control it. I know you can. I trust you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“So explain it to me.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” he confesses against your neck. “You’ve no idea the strain. The desire to tear free. It would destroy Francis’ body. The urge to devour you…” He kisses your throat softly. “Let me love you like the man I appear to be.”

“I love you. You, what’s inside.” You touch his cheek.

“I know, love. And the way that makes me feel is indescribable. I don’t need to be out of this body to experience it. I adore you, sweet girl. Let me show you how much. Like this,” he says, his hips lifting and pressing, guiding his cock back into your hollow.

Your pelvis arches to receive him. It scares you how much you want him. Your body shakes with the intensity of that desire. Craving that violence, that feeling of teetering on the brink of destruction. His, yours. The human mouth on your shoulder. Sucking. Kneading with teeth that aren’t nearly sharp enough. But it stirs whatever he’s injected you with. A venom, a toxin, not poisonous, not lethal, but a chemical that you need more of. Bringing you closer to what you’re so desperate for. It doesn’t take you long to climax, the doppel’s own release close behind. He lifts your hips and legs, propping them against his chest, keeping his seed deep inside you, stroking along your stomach.

Willing there to be a spark of life there, the way all life has begun, according to the words in the holy book still sitting on the nightstand, a burst of light in the darkness.

***

Another day at the DDD security window.

The doppelgängers have been clumsy so far. Woefully inept at replication. You didn’t need specialized training to recognize the imposter for the shoemaker with a mustache as a fake, a single eye in the center of his forehead making Albertsky Peachman look like a cyclops. The clone of the mother of the student living on the second floor had correctly replicated the placement of the blue and green irises, but the phony Nacha Mikaelys’ jaw was strangely formed, the flesh pulpy and uneven, making it appear like oatmeal.

The best part of your workday arrives on schedule, slipping a new gift into the slot this time. “Tickets to the theater for this Sunday. I know it’s not the movie you mentioned, but…”

You grin. You can’t even remember the last time you’d gone to see a movie. And now you’d be seeing it with your fiancé. “Casablanca! Oh, it’s wonderful. I have something for you, too.” You exchange an open envelope with the doppelgänger.

He slides the contents free, unfolding the letter and scanning it quickly, a smile lighting his features. “They’ve invited us to see them.”

You nod, still beaming, watching the invader tuck the letter from your parents back into the envelope. “We’ll visit the following weekend.”

“I look forward to it. Still nervous, but looking forward to it. How was your day, love?”

“It went well. Yours?”

“Better now.” Another smile. “I’ve got another surprise, too. Left it in the truck because I was anxious to see you. I’m making dinner tonight. Well we’re probably making dinner. I’m not optimistic about Francis’ cooking skills,” he adds, lowering his voice.

You couldn’t blame him for doubting it. The man’s pantry and refrigerator had been nearly empty, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because he’d been overdue for a trip to get groceries.

Thinking of the solitary, simple life of the milkman rinses the joy from your features. No real family to speak of, either, according to the doppelgänger, save for a cousin that he’d had little to no contact with. He really had been alone in the world. Isolated. You could have done something about that. You should have. But it was too late now. And you had your doppelgänger instead. The being your heart was so full for.

“Love?” The replicant sees the change in your expression, frowning now.

“I’m okay. Yes, I’ll help you cook. It sounds fun.” You’re not relishing the thought of working over a hot stove in that stuffy third floor living space, longing for the upcoming change in the weather. But you like the idea of working beside your partner. Preparing a meal. And what would come after.

The bite on your shoulder throbs, reminding you.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #that’s not my neighbor #the milkman

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deliciousangelfestival · 28 days

Text

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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19calicos · 3 months

Text

i know where to look — kuroo tetsurō ˎˊ˗

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✴︎ to be loved is to be known. ⋆⋆⋆

— on kuroo’s 2am walk home from a late night study session, yn and their skateboard crash right into his head heart.

status: in progress!

content: university au, meet-hurt LMFAOOO, slowburn, toothrotting fluff, some angst, gn skater! yn with they/them prns, whipped lovesick dork! kuroo, ooc writing sorry, ignore time stamps, this fic is self indulgent

warnings: language, bad grammar, injuries from skating, ooc writing sorry, weed + cigs + alc, self sabotage, descriptions of social anxiety, overthinking, usage of kms and kys, trust issues, yn's parents divorcing is mentioned, yn is so avoidant and in denial im sorry

tags are added as story progresses, please check individual chapters for cw.

disclaimer lol i’m not a fan of tv girl at all sorry but just hearing the “you know where to find me and i know where to look” snippet is so soft and sweet to me cuz to be loved is to be known (ty twitter) so here i am w this kuroo smau 🗣️

( 𖦹 ) denotes written content!

the cast: skater cat fan club + stupid bitch syndrome havers

table of contents:

1 ⊹ call an ambulance! ( 𖦹 )

2 ⊹ build something up

3 ⊹ literally everywhere…

4 ⊹ a cat named ube ( 𖦹 )

5 ⊹ helmet hair

6 ⊹ clocked

7 ⊹ tech deck master

8 ⊹ shadow the hedgehog

9 ⊹ happy community day! ( 𖦹 )

10 ⊹ exposure therapy + delusion

11 ⊹ a hundred not-dates ( 𖦹 )

12 ⊹ who wont slime

13 ⊹ on the kitchen floor ( 𖦹 )

14 ⊹ (it was tails)

15 ⊹ so in hindsight

16 ⊹ under familiar lights ( 𖦹 )

17 ⊹ tba

taglist: closed! (50/50)

extra: moodboard | everyone’s decks | yn style guide

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 8

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: Panic attacks, Nyx being adorable...

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Terror was clawing its way up her chest. Her heart…her whole body.

And Eira was frozen in place, unable to move…unable to do anything…unable to…

They had appeared out of nowhere. Winnowing right in front of her, wearing these violently dark uniforms, knives and swords strapped to their forms.

Not Illyrian fighting leathers. She had gotten used to these over the years. In a way, they had even become safe to her. Illyrian Fighting leathers reminded her of a male with dark bat-like wings, green eyes and the gentlest, scarred hands one could imagine.

These…these were different.

The shadows had screamed at her to run.

So she had. She had clutched Nyx to herself, had lifted him out of that swing and had fled, knowing that she had no chance…

And then…then… screaming and terror…something inside her had given way.

She didn’t know what.

She didn’t know how.

She just knew that when the first male grasped her arm…He only had time for one scream, before dropping to the floor…lightning crackled from her skin to him, forcing him down to his knees, Nyx screaming in her arms…

Number 2 had gotten the knife into her, the pain blooming with a sudden stab as the shadows managed to pull him back…

She had known then that that knife was going to be her death…

And then the magic had lashed out as she had gone down, shielding Nyx between her own body and the ground, the pain sparking inside her and making everything…everything growing hazy.

The magic had taken over…

The lightning had snapped out from high heavens, hitting numbers three and four…and their screams…horrific …they were burned into her brain.

*Eira. Eira, listen to me.* She knew that voice.

She knew that voice. But Rhysand didn’t talk to her like that. Not that gently…not that worriedly. Not…like that.

Mostly she just annoyed him.

*It’s only a memory, nobody can hurt you,* he insisted.

He was lying. Everything hurt. Everything was…

*Wake up.* He dragged her right out of it, back to…back to something else, back to…back to reality, back to her life, back to…

She woke up.

And then the reality of the situation hit her and she vomited over the bedside, her chest caving in with her sobs.

She had killed three people.

She had killed them.

Not even on purpose, she had just wanted to get away, get Nyx safe…but she had killed them. With nary a thought…felled them with magic, with lightning that had crackled from her very fingertips, burnt them to a crisp like they were a piece of meat, not even a human being with friends and family and feelings…she had…

She had killed them.

Nyx. Where was Nyx?

“Nyx is fine. Not a scratch on him. Thanks to you,” Rhysand’s voice came again and she was still retching, still feeling bile rise in her throat…even when she felt the cool midnight darkness of his magic, felt him clean up the vomit with nary a thought…

She smelled snow and ice and lilac and pear and her eyes weakly lifted to find Nesta…her sister, reaching out for her, hovering, not daring to touch her.

The tears came, a hysterical sob building in her throat.

“I killed them,” Eira choked out. “I killed them.” She had ended 3 lives. She had murdered them, ended their lives, she had…

“You’re alright, it’s alright, Eira,” Feyre’s voice reached her, her sister’s soft hands, gently cradling her head, pulling her back to lay down properly, enveloping her in her arms.

“I killed them. I killed them,” she whimpered, repeating the words, again and again and again. She had killed them.

She hadn’t wanted to kill them. She had just wanted…she had just wanted…

“I know. I know you did,” Feyre whispered soothingly. “It’s alright.”

“You did what you had to,” Nesta said quietly, a warm hand rubbing her back as she clung to Feyre, clung to her little sister as tightly as she could, her hands fisting in Feyre’s shirt. “You saved Nyx’s life, you saved your own life, Eira. You did what you had to. Nobody is faulting you for that.”

She had killed them.

“I didn’t want to kill them,” she choked out weakly, the sobs building in her chest so strongly, so harshly…

She hadn’t wanted to kill the. She had never wanted to kill anybody. She despised violence. She had never wanted to be in a position where she needed that. The war against Hybern had turned her stomach in more ways than one and she couldn’t…

“I know. I know,” Feyre promised her, as Eira’s tears wet her shirt, scalding against her skin. Eira couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop sobbing…the grief overcoming her.

Grief for them and grief for herself.

“I killed them!” she wailed, the noise bursting out of her throat, so harshly, so shocking, her whole body shaking.

She could hear a growl, that just made her heart start racing in her chest, everything suddenly even more terrifying, suddenly, too much, too…

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” Nesta whispered. But she couldn’t. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.

“That won’t help,” Rhys said quietly, his voice sounding far, far away…“She’s hysterical.”

*Eira,* his voice in her head but she couldn’t listen. *Eira. Listen to me.*

She couldn’t.

She heard more voices but no words, and then…“Just three drops under her tongue…it should take away the worst.”

She didn’t know what it was…what kind of bitter-tasting liquid Feyre forced into her mouth…

Just that suddenly…Everything grew hazy around the edges. Unfocused. Fear blunted, everything blunted…her emotions far, far away from her…her sobbing far removed, as she weakly clung to her sister, thick, heady tiredness enveloping her.

“There we go,” the same voice said softly.

“Feyre?” her voice was thick in her mouth, not listening to her.

“I am sorry,” Feyre apologised, her voice tearful and Eira struggled to open her eyes, failing. “I am here. It’s alright.”

“I am sorry,” she mumbled out. “I couldn’t protect Nyx. I tried.”

A soft gasp from Feyre, then…“You protected him. You protected him,” she promised her fiercely.

She had?

A shudder came over her body and she shivered, a whimper leaving her mouth.

Suddenly she felt the brush of these shadows again at her wrist, a thick blanket being dragging over her form…it was…

“Just rest. It’s alright,” Nesta soothed her. “Just sleep. It’s alright.”

She wasn’t sure how long she slept…how long she slid back into the darkness that was welcoming and sweet and safe and sound, and everything that being awake wasn’t…

Eira blinked open her eyes again, to her room that was filled with sunlight.

Tears still bit in the corners of her eyes. Especially when she found her sister sitting next to her quietly, holding her hand and staring out of the window.

“Nesta?” her voice was rough with disuse and Nesta’s eyes immediately snapped to her.

“How are you feeling?” Nesta asked immediately and she blinked back the tears, not wanting…not wanting Nesta to tell her that all of this was ridiculous and that Eira shouldn’t behave like a child.

She already had done that, hadn’t she? When she had hysterically cried over everybody about her killing…

She forced herself not to think about this, because even just that made tears appear in her eyes.

“Breathing hurts,” she said instead, a hand pressing against her ribs and hissing at the contact.

Was that were…

“Madja left you a tincture against it. It will probably hurt for a few more days…the knife was poisoned,” Nesta answered gently. Gently? Nesta never was gentle.

Some things just didn’t go together. Like her oldest sister talking to her gently. Nesta was forceful and blunt and not…gentle.

The door opened and her head snapped around, tears immediately running over her face as she saw the little boy on her sister’s hips, wings fluttering excitedly.

“Ra Ra!” he cheered.

Not a scratch on him. Nothing.

Unharmed. Not hurt, not…

Feyre brought him over, Nyx already holding out his hands for her and then throwing his arms around her neck as she breathed in that sweet scent of childhood that clung to him, closing her eyes as the tears leaked from them.

“Oh Nyx,” she whispered, one hand coming up to curl into the shirt she had made for him, embroidered across the hem with little moons and stars…

“He was inconsolable,” Feyre said softly. “When you were…unconscious. He was so worried,” she said softly, a hand gently carding through her son’s thick midnight hair, and then reaching out to wipe away the tears from Eira’s face, as she buried her face against Nyx’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“She says that breathing hurts,” Nesta reported.

“Madja left you something to take against that,” Feyre said quickly. But it was Azriel’s shadows that brought over a little potion bottle and tipped it against her lips so all she needed to do was to swallow as they poured it into her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said weakly as they pulled back, the bitter taste a small price to pay for the relief against the burning pain that she felt near her heart.

She caught the look her sisters exchanged and she couldn’t help but feel protective.

“What?” she asked, wishing she could cross her arms but instead just able to press a kiss to Nyx’s brow, as he settled comfortably to cuddle with her.

“Nothing,” Feyre said quickly.

“Just…Since when do you have Azriel’s shadows doting on you?” Nesta asked, making a face that…

Feyre pulled a grimace. Probably about Eira leaving Azriel in peace.

Eira was going to do that. But she couldn’t help it if his shadows wanted to hang out with her.

“They came a few days ago. They are lovely. And they don’t dote on me,” she corrected Nesta quietly. “They just like to keep me company.”

“We…need to have a talk, Eira,” Feyre said quietly.

She swallowed. She could just imagine what that talk would consist of. She didn’t want to have this talk. She didn’t want to…But she probably deserved it. Deserved whatever Feyre wanted to throw at her head. Whatever her sister had to tell her…

“I am so sorry,” Eira blurted out.

Nesta stared at her like she had gone insane.

“What? Why?” she demanded.

“I shouldn’t have taken Nyx to that playground. And I should have been more careful and if you never want me to…” Feyre interrupted her before Eira could continue that tirade.

She could understand if her sister didn’t trust her to watch Nyx anymore. It would break her heart, but she could understand it. She was supposed to protect him and she had failed.

“You asked me if you could take him to that playground, Eira. I gave you permission,” Feyre cut her off. “None of this is your fault. Keir sent them to…to hurt Nyx. You did nothing wrong, Eira. Nothing at all,” her sister assured her with wide blue eyes.

It just made her feel worse. “I should have…” she tried another feeble protest. She should have…

“What else could you have done, what you didn’t do?” Feyre challenged her sharply. “You protected him, you took a knife to your heart so that he would be safe, Eira. What else could I possibly ask of you?” her sister demanded. “You did everything perfectly.”

And she had killed three men.

It was still there, in the forefront of her mind. Always.

“When you were unconscious…” Feyre said quietly, trailing off…”Rhys tried to take your pain away from you. It’s a skill he has since he’s a daemati. But he…he wasn’t careful enough and your mental shields were nonexistent…He got dragged into your memories.”

“What?” she breathed out, tears immediately burning in her eyes, just as embarrassment and shame burned into her chest.

What had he seen?

Had he seen…had he seen her fledgling little feelings for…Had he seen that? Something she wished she could protect with her life so that nobody was ever going to use that to tease her?

She knew she had no chance, she didn’t need her sister's mate to tell her that either. She didn’t need him to know about any of this…couldn’t she at least have that?

It was embarrassing enough without anybody knowing the full extent of it…without anybody knowing all the embarrassing little daydreams she had about him.

“He’s really sorry,” Feyre said with a grimace. “He’ll tell you that himself, but we thought it was best not to overwhelm you…”

There was nothing she could do against it anymore, was it? It was done. Rhys probably had had a front-row seat to every single embarrassing and childish little daydream she had had about his brother and Eira was never going to be able to look him in the face again.

She could probably expect another intervention, after Feyre’s and Elain’s. Just that this time it would be High Lord shaped and he would probably threaten her to leave his spymaster in peace otherwise she would also be shipped off to the House of Wind or something.

“It’s fine,” she said weakly, instead. It wasn’t. But what else was she supposed to say?

What else…

“It’s not his fault. He just wanted to help,” she tacked on to the end of it…and then, with a sudden realization… ”Where’s Elain?” she asked, staring at Nesta and Feyre who exchanged another look that she couldn’t read. What was going on?

“In Day Court with Lucien,” Feyre answered quickly. “That’s also something we would like to talk to you about.”

“What, why? Is she alright?” Eira demanded. Was it wedding stuff? Had something happened?

If something happened, Elain was going to have a meltdown. Or rather another one. Another one that was going to make her get huffy about lilies look like children's play.

“She’s…She’s fine,” Nesta said, her tone clipped. “It’s…complicated.”

“What’s complicated?” Eira asked sharply. Nyx whimpered against her, and she dropped her voice. “What happened?”

“When Rhys saw your memories,” Feyre said carefully. “He saw…how horrible everybody has been treating you,” she said in a whisper, staring at Eira with tearful eyes.

“What?” How who had been treating her…what exactly did Rhys see?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nesta asked sharply.

“Say what?” Eira asked, not understanding what they meant. What was there problem? What has she done?

“Why didn’t you tell us how you were feeling, Eira?” Feyre repeated, her voice soft…coaxing. “Why didn’t you tell me what…Why didn’t you tell me how horrible everybody was treating you? Why did you just suffer that all in silence? I am so sorry.”

#lightning in a bottle #acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x archeron!reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic

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lizzyiii · 18 days

Text

His Lady Love (8)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson! reader

taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC

word count | 5.2k words

summary | chapter title: The Side Quests of Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys Targaryen. Flashback, flashback. Flashback, flashback. Flashback!!! (backpack song from dora playing)

tags | uhh, child sickness? creepy man, death, blood, miscarriage, reminder: reader is mentally and physically a teenage girl, with the knowledge and memories of a five-hundred year old vampire.

note | My heart will always be soft for viserys iii and the boy he was (before becoming angry and abusive). I always thought Dany was the prince that was promised, now I realise it was Jaehaerys all along. Jaejae the 2nd, you will always be famous to me. Alsooooo can we talk about CrazyTom's artwork of Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, Aegon and Viserys. I'm obsessed!!!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the landscape, yet it felt as if you had been riding for an eternity. Your heart ached for Jaehaerys; the boy had gone from being flushed with fever to trembling like a fragile leaf in your arms. The relentless chill of night seeped through the sky as you desperately sought refuge, knowing that time was slipping through your fingers.

A troubling notion flickered at the back of your mind, persistent and unwelcome: vampire blood possessed remarkable healing properties. You understood its power all too well—but administering it to a child? The thought sent a shudder through you, compelling you to cast it aside.

At last, a flicker of hope emerged on the horizon, a humble farm materializing in the fading light. You encouraged your steed to quicken its pace, each stride bringing with it the promise of sanctuary.

Yet, as you approached the entrance, a gnawing doubt took root in your mind. The farm was eerily silent; no animals roamed the barren fields, and the grass grew wild, reclaiming the land it once served. Rusty gates hung crookedly on their hinges, their broken visage painting a grim picture of neglect. Though the place bore the marks of despair, it was shelter you so desperately needed.

In the heart of the farm stood a dilapidated house, its once-inviting facade now obscured by age and wear. Your brow knitted in concern as you noted the boarded windows, their splintered frames, while shattered glass glimmered ominously like shards of a lost past.

Dismounting the horse with careful precision, you cradled Jaehaerys in your arms, his small frame feeling impossibly fragile against you. His small head rested against your shoulder, and with tender care, you drew the blanket around him, eager to shield his silvery hair from sight.

With a determined stride, you approached the door, Jaehaerys nestled protectively against you. You wrapped your knuckles against the weathered wood, the sound echoing in the stillness. After a brief, agonizing wait, you knocked again, more forcefully this time, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Your patience, a rare commodity in such dire moments, teetered on the brink of exhaustion. Just as you reached for the handle, ready to force your way in, the door creaked open violently.

A man stood there, his expression a mask of suspicion that softened upon recognizing you—a mere girl holding a babe. He appeared to be in his late twenties, towering over you with a lean frame, almost ghostly in his thinness. Dark hollows etched into his cheeks and sunken eyes spoke of sleepless nights and countless burdens, aging him far beyond his years.

You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of your urgency. "Forgive me, sir," you began, your voice a blend of desperation and resolve. "My son is gravely ill, and I implore you to grant us shelter from the weather."

His dark brown eyes flicked over your form, lingering on the boy before darting past you to survey the evening sky. "Seems fine to me," he remarked, a hint of sarcasm threading through his tone.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mingling of frustration and exasperation. You understood the rules of invitation all too well; only through his willingness would you find sanctuary. "I assure you, he has taken ill. A fever seizes him, and I fear he won't make it till sunrise if we remain out here. Please, I beg you—let us come inside."

The man scrutinized you, searching for hidden truths behind your wide, beseeching eyes. Then came the question that sent a ripple of caution through your veins: "Are you alone?"

A warning echoed in your mind, a primal instinct urging you to tread carefully. Yet, you were not merely a helpless girl; you were an Original, a creature of the night with immortality coursing through your veins. Steeling your resolve, you responded with a nod, your eyes wide to convey innocence, "Yes, I am."

He stared at you for a moment more, then stepped aside, inviting you to enter. “Come inside, then,” he murmured, granting you passage across the threshold.

As you ventured into his dwelling, it mirrored the desolation that lingered beyond its walls. The atmosphere was devoid of warmth, wrapped in a shroud of emptiness that seemed to echo the chill of the wintry night outside.

“How do you survive in winter?” you couldn’t help but ask, curiosity leaking into your voice.

He moved ahead of you, shrugging dismissively as if the question were an afterthought. “I get by.”

You followed him through the dimly lit corridors, ending up in what you surmised was his bedroom. With a gesture towards a ghastly contraption that barely resembled a bed, he said, “You can put him here.”

Grateful, you nodded and brushed past him, gently placing Jaehaerys down on the makeshift bed. With tender care, you swept the strands of hair from his face, attempting to obscure the telltale glimmer of his silver locks.

“You look a bit young to have a child,” the man remarked from his position behind you, his gaze trailing over you with an intensity that unsettled your very core.

"Aren't all girls?" you replied softly, allowing a hint of bite to creep into your tone as you turned your attention back to Jaehaerys.

"Fancy clothes you've got on," came his voice again, laced with curiosity and something more insidious. You sighed inwardly, frustrated by his relentless inquisition, feeling the heat of his gaze like a noose tightening around your throat. "You a lady or something?"

Your eyes drifted down to your attire — a simple green dress, elegantly cut but unpretentious by your standards. To you, it was nothing but fabric; to the eyes of the common folk, however, it gleamed with the opulence of fine material and intricate embroidery that bespoke of you standing.

"Or something," you replied vaguely, then spun to meet his gaze head-on, a noncommittal smile painting your lips as you turned to face him. "You've been so kind, yet I realize I have yet to learn your name. My name is Rebekah and this is my son, Jayme," you said.

A sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, an expression that held secrets of its own. "Hello, Rebekah. I’m Tym," he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise—or perhaps a threat, you couldn't discern yet.

The air thickened with a momentary silence, as your attention remained fixed on Jaehaerys, who stirred restlessly upon the rickety bed. With a subtle clearing of his throat, Tym broke the stillness. “Got some stew simmering over a pot. Care for some?”

His intentions appeared benign, yet a cautious wariness lingered beneath your polite smile. “That would be lovely, Tym,” you replied.

As he turned to fetch the stew, you cradled Jaehaerys, your fingertips brushing against his fevered brow. You planted a gentle kiss atop his head, whispering a quiet prayer for his recovery, your thoughts drifting back to a distant, haunting memory of the only time illness dared to lay its claim upon you.

You laid in your small makeshift bed, your frail form draped beneath layers of faded linen. It was a peculiar day, the air thick with the scent of impending rain, yet it did nothing to soothe the searing discomfort that coursed through her. At the tender age of eight, you found herself ensnared by a relentless cough, the kind that rattled your small chest and left you gasping for respite.

Your mother, Esther, hovered close, a blend of nurturing instinct and divine desperation etched upon her face. With deft hands, she anointed your forehead with fragrant oils, whispering incantations as if the very words could weave a protective barrier against the illness that sought to ravage her youngest child. Dreamcatchers, crafted from woven twigs and adorned with feathers, hung limply around the bed, enchanting the air with their promise of sweet, undisturbed slumber.

Though young and naïve, you could sense the depths of your mother’s magic, a language that danced just out of reach of your understanding. As your body quaked with another fit of coughs, you felt an unwelcome chill enveloping you, a stark contrast to the fever that scorched your skin.

“Shh, my sweet,” Esther cooed, her voice a soft balm against the storm of her anxiety swirling within the room. She gently stroked your flushed cheek, her eyes—usually so fierce and commanding—now wide with concern, scanning every inch of her child for signs of relief.

Suddenly, the sun’s warmth spilled through the hut as the flap was pushed aside with an abruptness that startled you. With great effort, you turned your head, your heart fluttering at the sight of your father's imposing figure silhouetted in the doorway. For the briefest moment, joy sparked within you—your father had come to check on you.

Yet that joy was extinguished instantly as you watched him barely acknowledge your presence, his gaze locked onto your mother like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. “Wife,” he rumbled, his voice rough and unyielding, “Hendrik calls for you.”

Without a glance in Mikael’s direction, Esther continued her tending, damp cloth in hand as she wiped away the sweat that clung to your overheated skin. “I am busy, Mikael,” she replied, her tone firm, unyielding against her husband.

Your small frame tensed as the tension in the air thickened. Your father’s eyes darkened, annoyance flashing across his face. “He is in distress,” he pressed, his voice low, “he needs his mother.”

Fleeting uncertainty crossed your gaze as you stole a glance at your mother. Esther's lips pursed, a familiar sign of her frustration simmering just below the surface. “And she needs me more,” Esther countered defiantly.

“I will not ask you again, Esther,” Mikael’s voice was dangerous now, a rumble that hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface.

With a resigned sigh, Esther’s gaze softened as it met yours, a flicker of pain reflected within, as she acquiesced. “I will be out in a moment.”

After a tense moment that felt like an eternity, Mikael strode from the hut, leaving a cold breeze in his wake. You could almost see your mother’s shoulders sag, the weight of contention that had filled the air lifting slightly.

Esther returned to her ministrations, fussing over you as if her very life depended on it, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your hot forehead. “Rest, my sweet. I promise, I will return.”

The present moment snapped into focus as the soft creak of the door announced Tym's return, his hands cradling a small bowl of steaming stew that filled the air with an enticing aroma.

You offered a grateful smile as he approached, accepting the bowl with a sense of warmth that contrasted with the chill of Jaehaerys's feverish skin. Though you had no need for sustenance— in all honesty, you had no need for human food, whatsoever—it was Jaehaerys who was truly in need of nourishment. Yet the delicate strands of his silver hair were a secret you dared not expose.

With wide, innocent eyes and a pleading smile, you turned your gaze to Tym, your voice a gentle lilt. “You’ve been so gracious and accommodating, Tym. Might I trouble you for a glass of water to soothe my parched throat?”

His expression faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across his face, before it transformed into a smirk that danced across his lips, revealing a charming dimple. With a nod of understanding, he lifted himself from his seat and made for the door, ready to fulfill your request.

The moment he stepped beyond the threshold, you seized the opportunity. Raising your wrist to your mouth, you punctured a vein with your sharp fangs, allowing a few precious droplets of your vampire blood to trickle into the simmering stew. The rich, coppery liquid blended seamlessly with the bubbling broth, and just as swiftly, your wrist healed, the wound disappearing as if it had never existed.

You leaned over the sleeping form of Jaehaerys, your voice a delicate whisper entwined with the warmth of your concern. "Jaehaerys, my sweet," you murmured softly, gently brushing tousled silver strands from his forehead. "You must wake and eat."

The boy’s lips pouted, instinctively shaking his head in protest, prompting you to coo in a soothing tone as you gave him a gentle shake. "Just a few bites, darling, then you can drift back into slumber. I promise it will help."

Slowly, his violet eyes began to flutter open, blurriness giving way to confused recognition. "Munās," he murmured, the word escaping his lips like a soft caress. A tender smile graced your face at the endearing term, encouraging him along as you lifted a spoonful of the stew to his mouth. (Aunt)

As he slowly sat up, the blanket slid away, unveiling his Targaryen silver hair glistening in the soft light. With a cautious lean, he accepted the offering, his tiny bites deliberate and slow, while you continued to weave sweet encouragements into the air.

Another harrowing cough wracked your small frame as you lay ensconced in the shadowy confines of your hut. Tears welled in your eyes, cascading down your cheeks as the weight of despair pressed upon your fragile heart, specter of death lurking ever closer.

Your head turned slightly, drawn by the soft patter of footsteps crossing the threshold of your sanctuary. Hope flared within you as you believed it might be your mother returning. Slowly, you blinked open your weary eyes to behold a small boy with bright, golden hair and piercing blue eyes, peering hesitantly around the dim room.

“Nik,” you croaked, a wan smile flickering to life despite your ailment.

Niklaus met your gaze, his own lips curving into a smile that illuminated the gloom. “Baby sister,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “You’ll catch my sickness too.”

With a puff of bravado, Niklaus drew up his chest. “It’s quite all right. I was chosen as the sacrifice.”

Your small brows knit in confusion, the gravity of his words lost on your young mind. “What?”

He began to explain with a playful glint in his eyes, “Initially, Elijah offered himself but Rebekah, Kol, and Henrik voted, and I was chosen to come instead.”

“Why?” you asked, a small pout forming on your lips.

A mischievous grin danced across your brother’s face as he playfully drew out a small box he had been clutching. "Because, dear sister, I've brought gifts."

With that revelation, your sickened facade brightened, and hope rekindled within you. “Really?” you gasped.

“Indeed,” Klaus said, settling beside you, the box nestled comfortably in his lap. He opened it with care, revealing its treasures to you.

"Rebekah crafted this lovely flower crown just for you,” he announced, lifting out a quaint yet ruffled circlet made of daisies. A tender smile spread across your lips as Niklaus gently raised your head to place the crown upon it.

“Now, this is from Elijah,” he continued, holding up a delicate bracelet of tiny beads before sliding it onto your wrist. “He thought it would add a touch of color to your day.”

A frown grew on his face as he reached for yet another item. “Henrik was at a loss for what to offer, and Kol…” he hesitated, clearly exasperated, “Kol handed you an acorn.”

A delighted giggle escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all. “An acorn? Why on earth would he do that?”

“He thought it would be amusing,” Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, while you giggled in actual amusement, as he placed the acorn in your palm.

You gazed up at Niklaus with the purest adoration, your voice softening as you asked, “Now, what did you bring me?”

He hesitated for a moment, a shy smile creeping onto his face as he rummaged through the box once more. Finally, he withdrew a small wooden figurine, expertly carved into the likeness of a girl with delicate wings. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the beauty before you. “A fairy,” you gasped, snatching it from his hands with reverence.

“It took quite a bit of time to craft her,” your brother admitted, a hint of bashfulness coloring his cheeks.

Cradling the wooden figurine as if it were spun from glass, you murmured in awe, “I love her. I shall name her Nikola, after you.”

“I’m honored, baby sister,” Klaus replied, his smile brightening, though a shadow of concern lingered in his azure gaze as it wandered over your frail form.

A shadow fell upon the moment as a voice broke through, startling you both. “Niklaus,” came Finn’s stern tone from the entrance, his figure half-illuminated in the dim light, his gaze aflame with concern. “You ought not to be here.”

“I was merely—”

“It’s far too dangerous,” Finn interjected, his tone unyielding. “You must leave at once.”

Niklaus huffed, frustration laced in his voice. “Very well, I’ll take my leave.”

With a final, gentle squeeze of your hand, he cast a glare at Finn as he slipped out of the hut.

“He was only bringing me gifts,” you murmured to your brother softly, seeking to defend Klaus.

Finn turned his gaze upon you, his features softening entirely. “He is but a boy, sister, which means his body is more susceptible to the fever.”

“Oh,” you replied, frowning in understanding. Your eyes flickered to him, a hopeful smile gracing your lips. “But you have a gift for me as well, yes?”

A roguish grin unfurled on Finn’s lips as he lowered himself beside you, leaning in conspiratorially. “Indeed... my delightful company."

You pouted, feigning dissatisfaction at his answer. Finn relented swiftly, his eyes twinkling. “Fear not, sweet sister, for I come bearing treasures.”

From behind his back, he revealed your favorite flower—a rare middlemist bloom—its delicate petals unfurled like secrets waiting to be whispered. “But this doesn’t grow in our region,” you gasped, voice cracking yet lilting with awe.

“Indeed,” Finn replied, his expression warm as he regarded the flower. “I traveled great distances to find it, and what’s more, there’s something undeniably special about this one.”

“What is it?” you inquired, your heart racing with excitement.

“I’ve been practicing magic with Ayana,” he confessed, pride lighting his features. “And I have successfully cast a spell to ensure this flower shall never wilt.”

Your eyes widened in wonder, absorbing his words. “You mean it will remain this way forever?”

“Yes,” he affirmed gently, placing the flower delicately within your small hands. “Let it symbolize my eternal love for you.”

Your youthful heart raced at his declaration, a radiant smile gracing your lips. “Eternal, truly?”

“Indeed, my flower,” Finn replied softly.

As that memory enveloped you, a bittersweet thought gnawed at your heart. Finn's ‘eternal love’ had faltered in the wake of your misstep, a fleeting mistake that had cast a long shadow over your bond. The pain lingered like a specter, even as you tended to Jaehaerys, carefully guiding him to sip the savory stew infused with your healing blood. Each gentle caress of your hand across his fevered brow was filled with an unspoken hope.

The tranquility was shattered, a sound like breaking glass slicing through the air, pulling you from your reverie. You whipped around, your heart racing as you caught sight of Tym, his gaze locked onto the boy child. “Tym,” you breathed, feeling a prickle of dread.

“The boy’s hair,” he spat, voice laden with accusation. “It’s silver!” You flinched at the loudness of his words, your eyes darting to Jaehaerys, who, to your relief, appeared to be deep in slumber once again.

You felt a wave of dread wash over you, the boy nestled against you oblivious to the chaos. “He’s a Targaryen bastard,” you countered, your wide eyes feigning innocence, your voice a whisper of urgency.

Tym shook his head vehemently, his once warm expression now twisted by suspicion. “No, no! You called him Jaehaerys,” he exclaimed, his finger jabbing toward you like a dagger. “Today was the prince's funeral! Did ya kidnap him?”

Your heart sank, frustration simmering beneath your composed exterior. You raised your hands, palms facing him in an attempt to calm the brewing tempest, as if easing a wild beast. “No, please. Just calm down,” you urged, your tone laced with reason.

Yet a spark ignited within Tym’s gaze, transforming his concern into something darker. “Perhaps there’s a reward out for the two of you,” he sneered, the words dripping with malice. With that, he turned to leave.

But before he could take a step, you appeared before him with a feral grace that startled him. He stumbled backward, landing abruptly on his rear as shock flared in his eyes. “What the fuck are you?”

With a soothing tone, you replied, “I need you to calm down, Tym.” You tried, almost desperately, to appeal to a semblance of mercy within him.

In a frantic attempt to escape, he began to crawl away, but you were far too quick. Swiftly, you seized his chin in a gentle yet firm grip, directing his gaze to meet yours, channeling your compulsion. “Calm down,” you urged, feeling the power of your words weave through the air like tendrils of shadow.

Gradually, you noticed the tension in his shoulders ease, yet a gnawing uncertainty tugged at your mind. Yes, you were a stranger to him, but the haste with which he spoke of rewards for both you and Jaehaerys left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, you whispered, “What were your intentions with me?”

The compulsion settled over him like a shroud, and he answered without hesitation, the words spilling forth in a smooth, almost languid cadence. “A pretty girl comes to a lonely man's door. It’s practically a gift from the gods.”

“And what if I did not reciprocate those feelings?” The question escaped your lips with a pang of trepidation. Deep down, you feared you already knew the answer.

Tym shrugged, his gaze locked with yours, a reckless glimmer in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a girl, and I'm a man.”

A weary sigh escaped you, disappointment settling like a stone in your chest. You dropped back onto your heels, your mind swirling with the implications of his words. In a world where predators lurked in shadows, your thoughts danced with the darkest possibilities—his intent to claim you while you slept, disregarding your will and robbing you of your decency, mere steps away from a child.

Deep sorrow enveloped you, thick and suffocating. With men like this, the glimmer of hope for any kind man felt like a cruel joke. “I genuinely believed you to be different—a bit strange, yes, but kind.” Your voice softened, laced with disbelief. “And now I see you possess the same animalistic traits as the rest.”

You paused, considering your next words with the weight they carried. “But I am not just any girl. And because of that I have the power and strength to protect other girls that cannot protect themselves.”

“And to do that,” you murmured, a chilling intensity igniting your gaze as your veins darkened beneath your skin, your pupils transformed into hungry slits, your fangs stretching long and sharp as moonlight kissed your features, “I must rid the world of men like you.”

Panic flared in his eyes, tangible and raw, yet your compulsion anchored him in place, keeping him eerily calm as you leaned closer, your breath a whisper of silk. “I haven’t fed in days. Soothe your mind by knowing that I shall savor every drop.”

With that, you descended, your fangs finding purchase in the soft flesh of his neck. His warm blood surged into your mouth, hot and intoxicating, even as he struggled against the inevitability of his fate, the frantic thumps of his heart echoing the finality of the moment, while his protests faded into a desperate silence — knowing it was a battle he could not win.

You lay in a restless slumber, your breaths ragged and shaky, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on your brow like dewdrops in the pale light of morning. Once again, Esther softly dabbed a cool, damp cloth over your forehead, worries etched deep in her face as she watched her youngest child struggle to summon the strength to open her weary eyes.

“Mama,” Your voice emerged, frail and whispered, like the rustle of leaves in a faint breeze.

Esther’s warm, deep-brown eyes locked onto her daughter’s, and a bittersweet smile graced her lips, tinged with sadness. “Hush, my love, I am here.”

The young girl gaze held Esther’s, filled with a mixture of trust and fear, as your mother’s tender hands continued to soothe your frail, sickly form. Yet, as the heat surged through your small body, you could not suppress the trembling words that slipped from your lips, “Am I going to die?”

For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze in the hut. Esther’s hand stilled, her heart clenched tightly in her chest. She diverted her gaze, struggling to conceal the tears that threatened to spill, the weight of her daughter’s words echoing in the silence. After a brief struggle for composure, she raised her hand to wipe away the dampness from her cheeks, looking down at the precious girl before her with fierce determination. “No, my sweet. You shall be just fine.”

A heavy stillness enveloped the hut, the world outside a distant murmur as your small voice broke through it once more, tremulous yet bold, “Will Father be sad if I die?”

Esther felt her heart shatter at those words, each syllable a dagger to her already broken spirit. Mikael harbored disdain for you, a constant reminder of his wife's unforgivable betrayal. Fortunate that he remained unaware of Niklaus’s lineage, yet Esther’s sweet daughter nevertheless yearned for her father’s love, seeking any semblance of affection in a heart hardened by resentment.

In that moment, Esther summoned what remained of her resolve, donning the familiar mask of tenderness, “Of course, he shall be, my star.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, yet she couldn’t bear to shatter the fragile threads of hope that clung to her daughter.

As your eyes fluttered shut once more, the lull of despair washed over Esther. She turned away, struggling to disguise the stark truth that loomed ever closer: her precious child hung at death's door. She could not bear the loss of another—never again, not after Freya.

Flaws ran deep in Esther, but they were borne of circumstances beyond her control; the bond she shared with you was a force unto itself. Perhaps it was the innocence of her youngest that drew Esther in, or perhaps it was the stark contrast to her other children. The warmth of your light was undeniable, a glow that illuminated the fears she dared not confront. Still, she would love them all—though deep down her heart loved you most.

With a surge of fierce determination, she pressed her hand to her abdomen, feeling the promise of new life stirring within her—a babe that once again grew. Yet the sacrifice loomed before her.

Night had cast its velvety cloak over the world; the moon watched solemnly as her family succumbed to slumber. Gathering the materials for her desperate ritual, Esther prepared with practiced hands. The moment felt both heavy and sacred. With a steady resolve, she sliced her palm, crimson droplets spilling forth to dance upon your fevered brow. Then, she cradled her daughter’s head, her other hand resting over her own womb.

With a whisper that quivered in the air like a prayer, Esther began to murmur the spell—repeating it like a mantra, “Hanc vitam in eam.”

"Hanc vitam in eam."

Each iteration grew more fervent, woven with her love and desperation, a last thread of hope tethering her spirit to your fading vitality.

When she finally opened her eyes, a wave of relief washed over her like the dawn breaking through the darkest night. Your strained features had eased, the pallor giving way to the flush of life. A sob escaped Esther, raw and unrestrained, as she sank beside her precious child, lifting the fragile frame into her arms.

All that mattered now was the warmth of your body against her own, even as blood seeped unnoticed from between her legs, the physical price of her choice.

A/N — actually confirmation that reader is esther's fav. also to go in more detail of reader's infatuation with finn, it's mostly because in her time, you were raised to become the perfect wife, and her mother always used to tell her, "when looking for the right husband, he should be like finn." obviously she took that too literally.

Next up, Reader returns to King's Landing...

Anywayyy

ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟsᴏɴs

(can you tell I made this within an hour ;) )

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear

@lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @ln8118 @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids @Lokisgoddessofpower

@anakilusmos @spacexdrago @strawberymilktea @snowtargaryen @fiction-fanfic-reader @feelingfaye @sxlsvv @crystal-siren @no-one0804 @tojisprincess @meraxesruin @supernaturalstilinski @talilosha@emerald-error20 @athanasia-day @mynameisbaby9 @lexi-anastastia-astra-luna @siriusblackrunmeover @shilphy87 @moonstruksandco

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #hotd fanfic #mikaelson #hotd #the originals #vampire!reader #ewan mitchell

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padfootagain · 3 months

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Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Pairing : Hozier x fem!reader

Professor! AU

Warnings: hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, no smut but suggestive scenes so 18+ only

Chapter 1 : 'And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately'

Chapter 2 : 'Through me the way to the City of Woe'

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Chapter 6 : ‘I’ll lie here and learn how, over their ground, trees make a long shadow and a light sound’

Chapter 7 : 'And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.'

Chapter 8 : 'I hope she never learns how to peel oranges'

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river-- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Chapter 10 : '[I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea'

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Chapter 12 : 'Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again'

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier fanfiction #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier masterlist #masterlist #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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anki-of-beleriand · 4 months

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A heart Made of Glass ch. 13

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, I am back and this chapter is a wrap-up for the confrontation between Reader and Wanda. They had been given a moment of solitude before going back to their own reality, can they really get past through everyting that happened to them in the past?

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

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

Chapter 13

Can we change the past?

You never imagined this ordeal would end in the way it did.

The universe you left behind came crumbling down under the weight of its own shaky foundations, it became a cold unfitting world that disappear the moment you and the others touched the land of another Universe.

Everything was kind of blurry from the on.

You knew Wanda was taken away, and soon after you were also being carried to a room in which you lost consciousness after your body finally gave up. Your mind didn’t have the time to think about what had happened or what would happen after you were completely recover. You let things happened, and in that time you gave yourself to a blissful mindfulness in which you knew, sooner or later, you would need to face everything you had been running from.

It soon became evident that time was running out, with people coming in and out of your room checking over your physical and mental well-being before asking uneasy questions. Sometimes you would evade those questions, and some others you would give vague answers that would tell the others you were no fool.

You stretched out grasping thin air in your fist, tilting your head you started making a small sequence of Tai Chi you had learnt from Yelena. After more than a week of being in the hospital, you were finally able to feel your body as yours again. Your muscles flexed, and the shadows under your feet stirred with the silent command of your thoughts. You smiled glancing at your reflection through the window, everything was working just fine and you knew you were ready to go back home.

The door behind you cracked, and the knob turned to the left revealing the single figure of Doctor Jean Grey. The woman was beautiful, and her smile was infectious always putting your mind at ease.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you this morning?”

“Doc, I’m doing better now, thank you.” You spined around slowly, the shadows wavering around until they covered your feet, your smile grew cocking your head to follow the lead of your left arm then your right one.

“I certainly felt much better now.”

“I can see that.” The woman smile stepping closer to your bed while placing a single file on the breakfast table.

“Tell me you cam here with good news.”

Jean offered a single smile while taking a seat, she sat waiting for you to settle down on the bed. The room soon filled with silence that was only broken by the busy morning routine right outside your room. You had learnt your room was in one of the busiest wings in the hospital back in the Tower. Wanda had not been that lucky, though.

“Well, I do come with news, if they are good or not depend entirely on you.” Jean could see the change in you, even through the easy smile you wore the young doctor could see you were being overly cautious.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Doctor Jean Gray sauntered inside the room with a light blush on her cheeks. Her eyes twinkling merrily glancing at the chart in her hands before settling then on you.

For some reason, the reaction of the woman made you squirm uncomfortably. You had been in this universe for two days now, but it wasn't until now that you were forced to go inside the examination room and get yourself a quick check-up. It was quite evident that in this world mutants and superpowered individuals were treated differently, and the rules governing each one of them were set to get control on the population.

“You seemed rather chirp today, Doc, good news for you or me?”

Jean chuckled, placing the chart on the bed before putting a chair close to the bed.

“It's my anniversary, and I received quite the news today.” She stated tilting her head, you smiled back at her.

“Congratulations, then.”

Jean nodded, putting a strand of hair out of her face, “thank you.”

“So that would be for you, what about me?” You finally asked leaning forward, your eyes drifting to the chart in your bed.

“Everything seems to be okay.”

“But…?” You arched a brow when Jean leaned back on the chair offering a serious facade.

“You had been quite silent in the last couple of days, keeping yourself out of everyone's way and most importantly,” here Jean stopped as if measuring her words, “your avoidance of your particular predicament has raised some concerns on our end.”

Silence followed such a declaration, you dared to lock eyes with the woman sitting in front of you well-aware of her ability to read beyond your initial thoughts. Jean didn't move nor did she give any indication of breaking into small talk, I stead she seemed to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak.

“I’m not sure I want to have this conversation.” You sighed, lifting a hand to the back of your head, scratching the nape of your neck. “But I guess it is inevitable.”

“It is.” Jean softened her features, grabbing the file she left on your bed, she opened it in a single page while presenting the form to you.

“How…how is she?” Your voice was above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jean to hear it.

The woman leaned back letting you read the file while she started talking.

“She is doing better now, trying to recover her magical core had been quite the challenge but our own team of witches and healers had come together to help around.”

There was nothing much you could do but nod, your eyes drifted to the file with your thoughts trying to focus on a single issue at a time. Ever since the five of you got to that universe everything had been but a blur; your Wanda was taken straight to the hospital and she had been looked after Tony's team back in the Avengers Tower.

“That's good.”

“I just want to do one last check-up before clearing you up, America has been waiting for you and the twins are very excited as well.” Jean chuckled, standing up making her way to the closest drawer and putting some surgical gloves out. “They seemed to think that having a pair of moms at their disposal would give them some kind of advantage in their mischief.”

You tried to hide your expression from the other woman, but it was inevitable. Jean offered a sympathetic smile while getting to work.

“They are just children…” you mumbled feeling your body warm up, your muscles twitching just as Jean started testing your reflex. “I don't think they understand that much.”

“Mm, you would be surprised how much Billy and Tommy understand about the situation.” Jean leaned back, lifting her left hand and letting it hover right on top of your forehead. “They are pretty smart, and sensitive.”

You pressed your lips together not wanting to go into a discussion. Not that you could raise any arguments against that statement, you had noticed just how sensitive they were and how smart they were. They had come that first time into your room calling you mom without a care in the world, telling you about their day while also making you aware of how they had sneaked in to see you and Wanda.

Your counterpart had been amused by your reaction, while her Wanda had been just a tad bit concerned about the confusion the whole situation could create in the children.

“If I were to be honest, you look more confused than them.”

“You told me you don't read minds unless you have permission.” You replied furrowing your brows, Jean had the sense of looking embarrassed but never lost her smile when looking back at you.

“You kind of scream that thought at me, sometimes it is inevitable.”

Jean then leaned back, grabbing your file and writing some notes down.

“I think you're ready to go.” Jean cocked her head when the first thing you did was jump down the bed and go to the closest chair holding your clothes. “But Wanda…”

You winced, grabbing your clothes tightly before turning around, this time around Jean was looking serious, her eyes gleaming lightly.

“What about Wanda?”

The silence grew around the both of you, your body was already tensing the muscles you would need to run. Jean opened her mouth only to close it again as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it.

“I think you should visit her, it can make a difference in her recovery.”

At the end of the day, this last visit from Jean Grey was just that, another attempt from these people to go to Wanda and make sure she was okay. For you to stop running and face her taking ownership of what would happen next.

It was complicated.

And you were unsure as to how to proceed or what was expected of you.

“Look, I just…”

“MOM!!!!”

Not sooner had you heard such a scream, you found yourself being tackled by a pair of bouncing kids. Your heart skipped a beat with your arms lifted at your shoulders height while the kids had their faces up to look at you with toothy grins. They were quite adorable, and in reality a part of you seemed to just instantly loved them, noticing the likeness they had to Wanda and yourself.

“Okay, guys let’s back up a little, remember what we talked to you about?”

The room was suddenly very crowded, your counterpart came right in followed by America and Pietro. It became quite apparent that everyone was waiting for Jean to finish her last check-up on you before getting into the room and see how you were doing. You placed your hands on the twin’s heads ruffling their hair playfully while offering a tentative smile.

“That’s okay, I’m getting used to the enthusiastic greeting.”

“And them calling you mom?” Pietro inquired, quaking his brow while placing his hands in his pockets.

You couldn’t help the little wince, recoiling from the comment with your body turning to the chair and grabbing your clothes once more. Billy and Tommy glanced at one another, with Billy opening his eyes really big while making a gesture with his head.

“Anyway, I’m just glad to know your good to go, because I was thinking we can go right ahead and get a look around and perhaps…” America started babbling making her way to your bed.

You nodded absentmindedly, your attention drifting for a moment to your counterpart and Jean that had decided to step out of the room to have a small conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on, and what they were discussing with your thoughts going over and over to the woman that was still unconscious somewhere inside the building.

Everything was strange in this universe.

A part of you knew that sooner or later the conversation of Wanda and you going back to your respective reality would come; but it was quite evident everyone was waiting for the right moment to intervene and perhaps get something done.

“Well, I think you better change so we can get out of here,” Pietro broke your line of thoughts, his eyes gleaming mischievously with his lips curling into a familiar expression. “Billy and Tommy prepare something for you, and I bet you are dying to eat something that isn’t hospital food.”

“You are completely right on that one, I’m going to change and then…you guys can show me a good time.”

You offered a tentative smile, your heart dropping for a moment when the twins cheered babbling non-stop to America and Pietro. For a brief moment you wondered…

…was this what you were missing back home?

_______________

You had been welcomed inside the household of your counterpart.

This time around, the guest room had been prepared and you could enjoy the joys of a soft bed and a nice view of the backyard while trying to get some sleep. The day had been quite unexpected, with the twins and America being active participants in different forms of conversations and different sets of games and rambles that you were not prepared to share with these people.

You had tried to get away from it, but Billy and Tommy were very adamant on having you close and including you in every single moment of their afternoon. You didn’t fight too hard to not be there, though. After a while you realised Wanda would not be joining the family outing and actually your counterpart ended up being just a good source of geek material that differed from the one you had in your own world.

Not for a single moment did anyone mention the white elephant in the room.

And for that you were quite grateful.

But now, in the middle of the night with the stars twinkling above your head and everyone sleeping in the house you couldn't help but think about it. Time was running out, sooner or later you would need to go back and face the consequences of what happened back in Norway and in that other universe.

Sooner or later you would need to face Wanda once more.

“It is pretty late for you to be thinking so loud.”

You kept your attention on the stars, the room was completely dark which was one of the reasons as to why you knew she had come home already. The young woman took a few steps forward until she was standing beside you, her face turned to the sky with her arms hugging her tightly.

“I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged leaning against the wall, your head tilted to the side. “It was quite an exciting day, I think I’m still in a sugar rush.”

Wanda chuckled, lowering her head, her eyes gleaming lightly, turning her attention to you.

“So I heard. The twins really took you everywhere and made sure you taste everything back in the restaurant, didn’t they?”

Your face fell when the memories of that day came back, the twins had never left your side while telling you stories about their adventures. Not for a single moment did they think or even entertained the idea of them not being part of your life in your other world. For them it had been natural to make sure that you and Wanda did not forget about them. That was one of the reasons why it had been a shock for them to find out you and they didn’t know about that restaurant.

“You should tell our other selves about this place, mom! I know they will love it!”

“Yeah, we love it, and you love bringing us here!”

It still burnt that this life was not yours, but there was nothing you could do.

Wanda could read your thoughts; she could sense your pain and it was something she couldn’t take. Not with you. Wanda dropped her arms, stepping closer to you. Her hand felt warm on your face, brushing away your hair and mapping out the form of your jaw. It was so unexpected you couldn’t help but freeze in place the tension evident in the contraction of your muscles, your left foot stepping back and stopping waiting for the other foot to join. It didn’t happen, though, you stood there waiting for something else to happen.

“They are good kids.” Your voice trembled at the very end of that sentence, but your eyes never waver in their hold of those green irises.

“They are. They are very much your children as much as they are mine.” Wanda offered a timid smile that soon vanished, whatever hold she had on you broke and the young woman turned around as if ready to leave.

The tension in your body didn’t leave, and your mind was poking at you uncomfortably pressing over for you to speak. To say something, to ask the question you were dying to ask but didn’t dare to do so. It looked as if nothing else was going to be said that day, as if nothing else was going to happen and you were trying to get a hold of your beating heart when Wanda stopped by the door turning to the side and locking her eyes with yours.

“You will need to face her sooner or later, Y/N.” Wanda let her words sink in, her eyes softening lightly when she could sense the conflict inside of you.

“Do I have to?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda lifted her shoulder stepping back.

“I think you know the answer to that question,” she stated letting out a tired yawn, “what you really need to ask yourself, though is what would happen if that confrontation doesn’t come the way you expect it to be? What if it becomes everything you thought impossible with her? Are you ready to face that conversation? Are you ready to make a decision for you and her?”

You hated the fact this Wanda was so insightful and you hated even more that she was right. That was the real reason as to why you couldn’t sleep, as to why you were trying to bury your emotions and your memories, while also running away from what you were experimenting with. Of the changes that had come knocking on your door all those months ago.

“Have a good night, Y/N, rest and follow your instincts on this one because they…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, and it was you the one to finish it.

“They had never failed me.”

There was a flash of a smile and then Wanda left, closing the door behind her.

___________________

But trying to follow your instincts was easier said than done.

A part of you knew the meeting was inevitable, after all, the both of you needed to go back to your respective Universe and this would never happen if you two kept on avoiding one another. But then, there was another part, the one you had been carrying with you for far too long, that was afraid of a confrontation that might broke your heart all over again.

You played with time for as long as you could, taking advantage of Tony’s curiosity and Loki’s infinite questions. You became very helpful of Wong and Hank’s questions, and you couldn’t help but give in the twin’s whims every night before going to bed. Nevertheless, you had the days count on that universe, and it wasn’t as if you really wished to stay. You missed home, and you missed your friends and family; but the final step to get everything ready to go back was something you had never felt ready to do.

On the fifth morning you woke up on a guest room, you knew you couldn't run anymore. America had finished her breakfast and Y/N was reading the paper, no one did or said anything for a moment until you sat at the table with the coffee warming up the mug in your hands.

“Wanda is fully recovered.” Your counterpart stated, never leaving her eyes from the page she was reading, “she is confused, a little weak but ready to talk and go back home.”

“Talk?” You asked a little harsher than you were meant to.

Y/N lifted a single brow, her lips pursing tightly.

“With you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a kick on your leg made you stop. America was glaring at you, her head shaking slightly opening her eyes and glancing meaningfully at your counterpart.

“I know, I just…”

Y/N sighed, closing the paper and placing it slowly on the counter. Her eyes pierced you with a gaze filled with emotion, you shifted on the chair trying to look away but unable to do so.

“Whether you want it or not, you will need to have this confrontation. Whatever you are afraid of facing…I think you should get your shit together and face it right away. You are running out of time, and excuses.”

Your counterpart finished her tirade with a slap to the table, shaking her head as she stood up and left the kitchen. You cocked your head until you found America glancing at you.

“I guess there is no running from this, is it?”

America shrugged, biting her lower lip, “I guess not.”

You lowered your eyes to the counter before lifting them to ensure America was paying attention to you.

“Once this is over, are you staying or are you coming back with us?” The question caught her off of guard, America was looking shocked and her mouth tried to form a specific thought but was unable to respond right away.

You chuckled standing up, your hand on her shoulder.

“You would be more than welcome back home, but I know you missed this place greatly.” You squeezed her shoulder before walking away, a single wall of dark shadows spreading before you. “Think about it, America, I'll be back in a few hours and we will talk about me and Wanda going back home.”

“I will think about it.” America mumbled offering a half smile. “Good luck.”

You winked at her trying to show more confidence than you actually felt before crossing over the shadows and disappearing into them. The trip was short, with the shadows embracing you with a cold hold leading through the space until you stepped inside a dimly lit hall.

The place was completely silent, though you could make out the sound of chatter in the distance. You lowered your gaze to the floor, our ears twitching lightly ignoring the rest of the sounds and focusing on your heartbeat.

The last couple of months have been a complete rollercoaster for you. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that Wanda would show at your doorstep with a young woman asking for help. For a very long time, you had put in the back of your mind the confrontation with Wanda. A part of you knew it would come, eventually. But you never intended to be the one to take the first step for the meeting to happen.

When you got to see Wanda face to face, and actually talk to her, your world came crumbling down around you. The barriers you had built around your heart and mind ended up not being as strong and resilient as thought them to be. Your heart still missed a beat at the sound of her laughter, and your hardened façade went away as soon as you saw the suffering and the heartbreak in those green eyes.

Wanda would always be one of your greatest weaknesses.

And you hated yourself for that.

It was as if your own suffering didn't matter, as long as Wanda was fine and didn't have to feel what you felt. Yet you refused to believe her words or even offer forgiveness for the wrong doings in the past. All of this came crashing down in a single meeting, all the doubts and pain came back, but also the yearning and the confusion you were threatening to overwhelm you and leave you without a way out.

You took a deep breath, your hand running through your hair helping your uneasiness. You closed for a brief moment, and your mind went blank emptying any thoughts that might come in and make you falter in your actions. The last couple of days, and actually the last couple of months, you had thought about this moment; you had given yourself and her a chance to step aside and let the past in the past and for the both of you ready to face the present without thinking too much about the future.

The room was in complete darkness, the lights were out and the curtains were still closed. You could hear the monitor in the corner, the bed occupied the left side of the room leaving a big sofa and a couple of chairs on the right. Hanging from the wall you could see the TV that was huge enough to almost cover the wall, the only thing that prevented this from happening was the side door leading to the bathroom. Tony was really into luxury, you closed the door behind you a little unsure on how to proceed.

The tension around the room only increased when you felt a pair of eyes on you. It didn't take too long for you to know who it was, you stepped forward making your way to the curtains.

“Would you mind if I open them up? I prefer the natural light of the day instead of the artificial ones.” You turned lightly, finally locking your eyes with those of Wanda.

Your Wanda.

“That's fine.” She replied, her voice was but a whisper but you could get the strong laced tone that Scarlet used whenever she talked to you.

The room changed under the light of the day, while there was not much sun the sky was cloudless and the position of the tower as well as the floor you two were currently in allowed for the perfect setting for natural light. You glanced around a city that was familiar yet strange, the weight of that stare didn't leave you, not even when you finally turned around to lock eyes with her.

“You look fine.” Wanda lowered her chin, her fingers twitching on top of the bed wanting to do or say something else but unsure where her relationship with you stood at the moment.

“I wasn't that badly injured, but I think I did need the rest.” You took a step forward, then another until you were actually standing beside Wanda.

Wanda hesitated for a moment before moving to the left, she chewed on her lower lip before patting the spot on the bed.

“You can sit here, if … if you want, there is also a chair and…” whatever else Wanda was going to say was cut off by you taking her initial offer of sitting on the bed.

Wanda felt her heart do somersaults, her body tingling at your closeness and the little voice she had come to recognize as Scarlet’s whispering to her telling her to close the distance, to grab your hand, to not let you go. But she held back knowing that her position was precarious at best and whatever you had come to discuss with her needed to be addressed first.

“How are you?” You fixed your position on the bed, well aware that the only thing you needed was to lower your arm and your hand would be touching Wanda's one.

“I'm better now, a little sore and getting use to…” here Wanda trailed off with her brows creasing a little, “to be complete, I guess. It's difficult, but I think I am ready.”

Her words held a decisive tone, but her eyes were flashing the doubts running inside her mind. You realised right there and then that nothing much had changed in the last couple of years, there were things you could still read about her.

“Ready for what?” You asked quietly, Wanda sighed shrugging.

“Going back.” She replied simply. “Getting out of your way, out of your life…I did promise you after all of this was over I wouldn't bother you any more…”

Her words stung your heart, spreading an electrifying pain all through your body until it hit your brain. You didn't understand why, exactly. That had been the deal, to help her out and then get her out of your life. Then, if you knew what was going to happen, how it would end, why were you having these doubts? Why did it hurt?

Wanda was in her own thoughts, a part of her she had tried to suppress, the one she tried to deny stirred in anger. Wanda wanted to speak out, to tell you she didn't want to go and that she certainly didn't want to pretend nothing had happened in the last couple of months. That seeing you had been one of her greatest joys in life, but it had also brought pain and sadness, that being in this universe seeing the twins and facing what could have been…

Without really noticing, tears started falling rolling down her cheeks while her heart shrank with the weight of her emotions. Wanda refused to give in, her fists closing tightly and her tears breaking her composure and without really wanting to she finally broke in front of you.

You observed the full process, the way her face changed and the tears pilling up her eyes. Wanda was trying to bottle up whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking. It was so easy to ignore everything the other woman was experiencing; it was easy to hold onto your shared past.

But this was Wanda.

And you couldn't ignore her. That was the reason why you had to disappear after the breakup.

With a tentative touch, you let your hand fall on top of hers. Your thumb drew circles before leaning in and wrapping her in a hug. Wanda held onto you, her sobs filling the room while her hands tried to grasp your clothes. You didn't say anything, but for some reason you could feel it.

The apology you never allowed her to share with you. The broken heart she had been wearing ever since that day.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

Wanda cried and once she started she couldn't stop. Fixing your position on the bed you made sure she was comfortably resting her weight on your left side, putting comforting arms around her while soothing her body with sweet caresses you had dared to make in anyone but her.

Whatever conversation you were meant to have with her, whatever it was you had come to talk to her about soon crumbled under the pressure of her tears and your own feelings for her.

And just like that, you knew you couldn't let her go.

Not without a real conversation.

And not without a fight.

______________________

Wanda was not completely sure when she fell asleep, but right now she was completely aware of being awake resting on top of you with the warmth and comfort of your presence soothing her soul.

Her body tensed right away, though soon she relaxed into the embrace having noticed your even breathing and the relaxed posture of your body. You had fallen asleep as well and, at some point the both of you had ended up sharing the small hospital bed without anyone coming over to interrupt that moment.

Wanda nuzzled her face against your neck, she wished this was something she would share with you every day. How she had missed waking up in your arms, to see your smile in the mornings and your hyperactive body demand for the morning routine. Everything was so messed up, and she didn't know when she allowed her world to crumble into nothingness.

Her heart trembled with emotion, and her thoughts formed an idea Wanda knew was not completely hers but a figment of Scarlet.

You have to fight back! You need to get her back! You need to tell her everything we discovered! Everything we know!

Her voice was demanding, yet it held a hint of desperation that Wanda was familiar with. It was the same voice she had woken up to back in the battlefield after the snap, the same one she had heard countless of times whenever she thought about you or a way to recover her life. Everything had been so complicated, yet it could had been so easy to recover her life to actually try to make a change and reconcile with everyone.

There were no more tears in her eyes, and the sadness and sorrow she had lived with all her life was a burden she was tired to carry with her. With some reluctance, Wanda let go of you stirring in the bed while trying to be careful in her movements, she missed your closeness and the warm that your body had provided but it was time for her to stand up.

You need to fight for her, you cannot lose her. Not again.

The voice echoed inside her head, and Wanda knew this time around she couldn’t allow her fears to stop her from at least getting a chance to be your friend. With that thought in mind, Wanda stood on weakened feet gathering her strength before walking towards the closes wardrobe and grabbing some clothes. She gave you one last glance before making her way to the bathroom, she would need to get ready for what would come next.

It was the cold what wake you up.

The cold and the fact you missed the weight of someone resting on your left side, you sighed blinking owlishly while patting the side of the bed where you were pretty sure your companion had been resting. In those glorious moments between being awake and asleep, you were trying to grasp the reality of the woman you had been holding. Your memory groggily moving through the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin and then…

You remembered.

Wanda had been crying, you had held her, you had fallen asleep…

You stood up so fast that you fell of the bed hitting your head against the night table, while hitting your ass on the ground.

“Ugh, fuck…”

“Are you…are you alright? What…did you fall off the bed?”

You wished you could hide, but instead of that you lifted your face to see Wanda standing by the bed trying to hold back her laughter just as her eyes gleamed with worry. You could sense the blush forming on your cheeks, while your whole body seemed to protest under the pain of the hits you got when falling.

“I…yes, I just…woke up too fast and…I fell off the bed.”

That was all that Wanda needed to start laughing, she couldn’t help herself. She had seen you woke up and then lose all control while getting your feet entangled on the sheets and falling on your ass. It had been funny, and the fact that you now looked all embarrassed and were pouting made for the scene not only something funny but quite adorable.

You huffed trying to stand up, rolling your eyes while the other woman held against the bed trying to control her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, little witch…” the nickname slipped your lips without giving it a second thought. That made the laughter died and once more the room was filled with a tension neither one of you were ready to maintain.

“I’m sorry it’s just…your face, and the way you fell, so full of grace…”

“I bet.” You rolled your eyes trying to check your head and body before settling your eyes on Wanda.

The young woman had put on some jeans and a white blouse, while her hair was still wet after the bath. You furrowed your brows looking away while catching the time on the clock on the wall. It was almost midday, which would explain why you were so hungry all of a sudden.

“I guess you really are feeling better.”

Wanda bounced lightly checking her hands and body, she wouldn’t say she felt better but she certainly was tired of being in bed while letting everyone come in and out to check her over. This world had a peculiar way to treat people with powers and having so many people with magical abilities come in and check her magical core had been extenuating and rather uncomfortable. The only time she had felt at ease had been with her counterpart, and that had been a whole different situation.

“I just need to get out of here.” Wanda finally revealed offering a half smile, “I heard from one of the nurses they have a nice restaurant right across the street, it has sandwiches and pizza…perhaps…”

You blinked a couple of times at the suggestion, your hand went right away to your pocket and your wallet. You hope the money you carried with you had some sort of value on this place, with a shrugged you nodded your agreement.

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, then.”

Wanda couldn’t hide her smile at the acceptance, she turned around and grabbing a jacket dragged you out of the room making her way directly to the elevator at the end of the hall. None of them noticed the camera watching their every move or the shadowy figure hidden in a close-by room. Your counterpart smirked shaking her head, she owed her wife a nice dinner. Wanda had always been right. Always.

In the security room, Wanda Maximoff allowed a tiny smile on her face, she lifted her stare to Tony and Loki, both of them shook their heads still slightly confused about the interaction.

“Now, what?” Tony finally asked staring at Wanda then at Loki.

“Now, we wait.” Loki replied waving away his hand. “For now, I think they are right, I’m starving and you ought to feed us, Stark.”

“Why is it always my responsibility?”

“You’re the one with money.” Loki replied ignoring the indignant huff coming from the older man, and the amused chuckled from Wanda.

_________________________

The restaurant was almost empty.

There were a few empty tables in the back, the one you chose was perfect for a nice conversation by hiding you two away from imprudent ears. The place was cosy, with decorations of blue and green creating a magical atmosphere with the dim lights around the establishment and the sweet aroma of spices that made you remembered home. You sat down facing Wanda who was looking troubled at the moment.

The waitress dedicated you a timid smile while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Welcome to the Sandwich Emporium, what can I get you today?” Her question was directed at you, and her eyes never even bothered to look away as you grabbed the menu she was offering.

“I’m not sure, what do you recommend?” You glanced at the menu then back at Wanda, the redhead was glaring at the menu pursing her lips lightly while you merely frowned.

“Well, that depends on what are you looking for,” her tone of voice didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and you couldn’t help but raise a single eyebrow at that. The young woman opened her eyes wide blushing profusely. “I mean…I…”

“She is having La Tricolore and I’m having La Tartuffo.” Wanda point two pictures on the menu, before handing it over to the waitress, her eyes gleaming strangely while you just blinked slightly confused. “And I’m having some water, and she is having a cappuccino.”

“Very well, I’ll be right back.” The young woman left rather quickly, her ears burning red after having come across the redhead.

You had your eyebrows raised glancing over at Wanda who was trying rally hard to ignore you. After a moment she finally let out a heavy sigh, her head turned away from you.

“La Tricolore has beef, cheese, some hazelnuts, and that pistachio cream you…” here Wanda trailed off opening her eyes when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, I…”

“I like it, sounds delicious.” You placed your hands on the table not really bothered by what had happened but rather confused. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I never forget.” Wanda brushed her hair away lifting her face to finally lock her eyes with yours. “I always…remember, Y/N.”

“I remembered too, Wanda. I remembered everything.” You stated but whatever anger you had held it had given way to bitterness and sadness.

Wanda winced tapping on the table before wiggling her hands together.

“I…I never got to…” She tilted her head, and you could see the tears hidden behind those green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t even cover what had happened, all the pain she had caused on that day. But those words made your soul tremble, you scoffed shaking your head leaning back on the seat.

“It is too late, don’t you think?” You could see your words hurt her, and everything you had lived up to that point came rushing in piling up inside your mind until you just put everything away and left what was important.

Wanda nodded defeated, “I know, I just…I never got to say it to you.”

But it wasn’t about asking for forgiveness, and you knew that. And Wanda was also well aware of the fact. The question was not about forgiveness, the question was if you could move forward after everything that had happened.

“I never got to say it, I messed up. I was so afraid, I just…I didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to…deal with everything.”

Wanda spoke with a clear desperation tinge in her words, you could see the crumbling behind her eyes, how her soul would tremble while trying to tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear ten years ago.

“Vision was convenient.” Wanda said, this time around she grabbed the seat tightly her body completely tensed making her neck hurt as she forced herself to keep her head up and look at you. “I was so afraid, so lost and…and It’s not an excuse! I deserve your hatred! I deserved your anger! I just…”

“You could have told me, you know?” You finally said when it was obvious Wanda couldn’t continue talking. “I was there for you, and I could have helped. I thought you trusted me but instead of telling me whatever was happening you…”

This was not the conversation the both of you were supposed to have, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You weren’t supposed to understand, but to stand your ground and tell Wanda how much of a bitch she had been. But the last couple of days had taught you something about yourself, about Wanda and what could have been. And if Wanda was confused you weren’t fairing any better.

“I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay because you grew with Natasha and then you have Fury and Maria and Yelena…” Wanda waved her hand weakly, her tears rolling down while her eyes revealed the deep sadness she had always carried with herself.

“I lost everything, and I didn’t know how to deal…and you were strong, and brave, you were not afraid of anything and I was only me.” Wanda broke into a sob, with a crooked smile that showed you just how broken she was. How lost she was still feeling.

“I…after it happened I never…” Wanda started but couldn’t finish, you perked up at her words because this was something you hadn’t bothered to find out.

“What happened after I left? Were you happy? Did he make you happy?” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but your words carry with them poison that you had been holding for far too long.

“I didn’t stay with him, Y/N. I tried to look for you, to reach out for you but…but I couldn’t and I didn’t stay with Vision, I didn’t feel anything I just… I messed up! Okay? That’s what I did, and I didn’t know how to make it better and I’ve been trying to be good to make it better all these years…”

You wouldn't know about that.

Just as she was trying to do some good, you were trying to forget. It was one of the reasons why you kept yourself out of everyone's business and dealt with the superhero work alone. When Tony and Steve got into that quarrel and you saw what happened back in Lagos you knew you had made the right decision. Then, everything became more complicated and you just busy yourself with other problems, always trying to keep the team away while trying to get glimpses of news about Wanda. You knew it had been hard for her, and you also knew she was never alone.

Vision.

That had always been the main issue, wasn't it?

“I was on the run with the others, but I just wanted to disappear. Vision…he was helping me with getting a new identity.” Wanda leaned back tilting her head to the wall to hide the tears rolling down her cheek.

It was an answer to an unasked question. The conversation died for a moment, the waitress eyed Wanda before offering a smile to you placing the different orders on the table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, if there is anything I can do, I'm Anne.” The waitress offered one last smile walking backwards and then leaving you two alone.

The food smelled delicious; you grabbed your sandwich allowing Wanda the moment of privacy. The silence grew heavier just as you distracted yourself glancing around the place while taking another bite from your lunch.

“I was just trying to live my life, and then when Thanos happened…” Wanda huffed turning to her food, she was no longer hungry if anything she wanted to disappear.

Everything seemed so pointless, the look in your eyes would never leave, and she would go back to a world in which she was despised by the only woman she had ever been in love with.

“This is really delicious; you should try it.” You interrupted her, offering a full smile while grabbing another bite.

Wanda blinked confused; she kept her eyes on you then back on her food. For a brief moment, she hesitated, she was no longer hungry and if she were to be honest she felt tired. You took a sip from your cappuccino, placing your hand on the table, dangerously close to hers.

“I know you are hungry, Wanda. And I also know…I didn't want to know, but I get it.” You passed your hand on your hair pressing your back on the seat. “I'm tired of this, I just…”

“I can't take it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You crunched up your nose, Wanda lowered her eyes grabbing her food.

“As if I am nothing to you, as if you…you hate me and…”

She trailed off putting the food in her mouth and silencing her words. You frowned, pursing your lips while playing those words inside your head.

“I don't hate you.” You softened your features, your eyes glistening under the weight of memories. “I could never hate you.”

Silence followed your statement, the shivering discomfort of what your words could mean infused the atmosphere with questions Wanda didn't dare to ask. You lowered your gaze and focused completely on the sandwich that was still on the plate, and for a good half hour that was all you and Wanda did.

When there was nothing else coming in between the unfinished conversation, Wanda put her hands on the table her eyes down casted. This was actually the very first time the both of you came face to face without anyone or anything coming in between. It was a confrontation you never thought would happen about something you had always imagined. It always came with different scenarios, but the outcome had always been the same. With you finally finding peace and never looking back, and with Wanda filled with regret for what she had lost.

This conversation though was completely different. You lifted your face finding those green eyes staring back at you with longing and a deep sadness that had become characteristic of Wanda.

“How did you end up in Westview?” The question rolled out of your lips with a hint of bitterness you could not hide.

Wanda winced playing the napkin on the table, you waited until the woman started talking again.

“I found the box you hid in your room back at the Avenger's compound.” She stated simply, her lips breaking into a grimace. “I never…after you left I never went back there until after the battle with Thanos and Steve’s funeral.”

Your eyes opened lightly in realisation; you remembered the box in which you had hidden the future you hoped to share with Wanda. The ring, the map, and the picture…everything made sense now; now you understood why Wanda had chosen that place and how everything had fit at one point or another. The only thing that was out of place had been Vision, your expression hardened and Wanda could tell you were thinking about Westview the life she had created there.

“I never thought of him, you know? I went there because I wanted to…” Wanda snorted lifting her face to the ceiling, her voice trembling under the weight of the memories. “I wanted to understand, and in a way, I wanted to find a way to go back to you. Not as…I mean, I wanted to at least be…be your friend.”

You shifted on the chair hearing as Wanda finally tell you her part of the story, how she had been completely alone after coming back from the Blip. Steve’s funeral showed her just how alone she was, and how lost she really felt; she didn’t have a work or a home or even family and friends. She spent her time driving around until she decided to ask for help and went to the only person she could think of: Tony.

In all this time you could see the story behind her eyes, you could read the suffering and the deep sadness in the gestures and the words that carried with them the flashbacks of those days in which you were ignorant of Wanda’s fate.

“I went there to punish myself.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “I guess I did a good job.”

“Wanda…” You started but the words tangled in your throat, the other woman waited expectantly but after a moment her face fell.

“You don’t have to…”

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” You frowned lowering your gaze to the empty dishes on the table, you were fully aware of her eyes on you. “All this time, isolating yourself while unable to reach out to anyone…then, finding yourself in Westview with this Agatha…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she was trembling with a flame of hope flickering inside her heart. Wanda knew she had created the world around Westview, she knew that her isolation and her grief had broken out into an explosion of her magic to create a reality she could deal with. But she also knew her magic had been tampered with, and her illusion had been corrupted.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered with her hands grabbing the chair tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

You nodded standing up while making your way to where she was sitting, you offered your hand though your face never changed. For a brief moment, Wanda hesitated, she glanced at your hand and then with a trembling hand accepted it.

“They do look like us, you know?” You stated flatly, your hand warm against hers.

Wanda furrowed her brows, her tears rolling down her cheeks but her eyes gleaming in confusion.

“Why?”

“Billy and Tommy.” You stated simply. “They do look like us.”

_______________________________________

That night you sat right outside the house.

Music and conversation could be heard in the backyard, with the lights of the kitchen projecting shadows on the grass. The sky above hour head was still showered with white dots that resulted familiar yet so different to what you were used to; the air was cold but nothing you couldn’t take in a night like that one.

You took a deep breath filling your lungs with cold air, inside your mind thoughts came crashing down into a myriad of possibilities and plans yet to be executed. The conversation with Wanda had gone unexpectedly well, yet you knew a lot of things needed to be done and said before things would be okay.

“Aren’t you a little cold out here?” America crunched up her nose trying to balance the two glasses she was carrying with her.

You turned to her, chuckling before stretching a little to help her out.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a part of this great celebration?”

America shrugged offering a tiny smile, “the twins are distracted with Wanda, both of them, and the rest is just chattering around.”

“So you decided to come to me?” You shook your head taking a sip from the beverage the young woman had brought with her. “You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are.” America wrapped her hands around the glass eyeing you out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you?”

“I guess I’m okay, how about you?” You pointed with your head to the house behind you, “this is what you missed, isn’t it? Now that you are back, well…”

America nodded turning her body to yours, “I feel happy, but I also feel lost. I know that I found them again, and I have so many possibilities right now, I just…”

“Don’t know what to do?” You asked, America shrugged lowering her eyes.

“I’m finally starting to understand my powers and to get some control over them, if I keep working on them I would be able to travel without getting lost.” America let out a sigh dropping her shoulders, “those are a lot of possibilities and right now I think I need stability and keep learning.”

“Wise words, you have grown some, kiddo.” You bumped against her shoulder; the young woman blushed lightly offering a timid smile. “It may take time, but I’m pretty sure you will learn to control them.”

None of you mentioned the possibility of America finding her way back home, while it was an option it didn’t mean that America would find it once she had some control on her abilities. But for now, the young woman was happy to learn more about her powers and herself, her heart and soul finally finding a place she could call home.

“You don’t mind me coming back with you and Wanda?” America finally asked biting her lower lip while taking the last sip of her drink to her lips.

“No, I think it’s going to be fun.” You replied glancing at the young woman, “but I have to tell you right now, the training is going to be brutal.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

You chuckled nodding, “good.”

America straightened up tilting her head to glance at you then back at the house. You knew what the question was she wanted to ask, but you didn’t rush it.

“Are you and Wanda going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” The honesty with which you answered that surprised even you, you turned to America with a serious face. “I’m not sure what would happen, America, but I guess I’m willing to find out.”

“That’s good, right?”

You shrugged, and the young woman went back to rest her head on your shoulder still highly confused by your answer. The sound of laughter, music and conversation filling out the sudden silence that embrace the both of you, your thoughts coming back to Wanda and the day you had spent with her.

Only time would tell what would happen next, and you were waiting anxiously what would happen next.

_______________________________

Billy and Tommy were talking non-stop, they were excited showing Wanda the latest project they had been working on back at school. The young woman could hardly hold her tears while letting her children talk to her about school and their lives as if she had always been there.

At first, it had hurt.

Wanda knew they were not hers, and yet she couldn’t help but love them and see them with the same eyes she had seen the twins back in her universe. A part of her never thought she would see Billy and Tommy again, the moment the illusion had fallen around her and she discovered what she had done to Westview she knew there wouldn’t be a way for her to recover her children.

Yet here they were.

In another world, in another universe looking the same as she had imagined them once.

This time around everything was as it was supposed to be, with you by her side raising two children being a happy family. A part of Wanda felt envy for everything her counterpart had and she couldn’t have.

“Are you sure you can’t have a family of your own?”

Wanda huffed turning to the source of the voice, her counterpart stood right beside her with softened eyes staring at the twins that were getting ready for bed. Wanda dropped her arms to her sides, her eyes glancing back into the room then back to the woman standing beside her.

“I’m pretty sure, she…” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself furrowing her brows, “she doesn’t love me anymore. I am nothing more than…and ally, and even that would be to stretch out our relationship.”

The other Wanda pursed her lips, she stepped closer never letting go of those green eyes she was so familiar with.

“You don’t believe that.” Wanda stated holding back a smile when the other woman stepped back scowling.

“I have to believe it, I can’t…” Wanda sighed lifting her chin to the ceiling holding back her weakness, she didn’t want the twins to see her cry. “I have to believe it or I will break my heart once more and I can’t lose control of my magic, I…last time it didn’t go well.”

The room filled with laughter, Billy ran to the bed jumping up and down with Tommy trying to follow up before falling down on his face. Wanda couldn’t help but gasp ready to help out but stopping when a gentle hand wrapped tenderly on her forearm. It was strange to see herself staring at her looking the same yet being so different than she was.

The twins were back in the game, falling on bed while discussing some subject Wanda couldn’t hear pretty well. The fall was soon forgotten and both of them were ready to go to sleep.

“Go on, you can put them to be and I will wait for you here.”

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered to her counterpart entering the room and going to Billy first.

The woman offered a shaky smile, her trembling hand brushing away his dark hair while her lips curved into a smile. Billy smiled back blinking slowly.

“Are you okay, mom?”

Wanda nodded leaning in placing a single kiss on his forehead, “more than okay, Billy. Have a good night, baby.”

“Good night, mommy.”

Then, Wanda went to Tommy who was looking at her differently, he wrapped his arms around her hugging her tightly and this time around she couldn’t help but cry.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Tommy, now go to sleep.” Once more she placed a kiss on Tommy’s forehead and with that she stepped back walking towards the door. “Sleep well, guys.”

“Night, mom!”

The door close behind her, and Wanda stood there allowing herself the goodbye she had longed to have with the twins. She tried to give the right closure to her emotions knowing full well she would go back a world in which she would be all alone. No twins, no Y/N, only her.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered locking her eyes with those of her counterpart, the other woman nodded curtly.

“I knew it was important for you.” The woman hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but you shouldn’t lose any hope, Wanda. You and Y/N…”

“Don’t, please.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t give me hope, don’t tell me it is possible because…god, I’ve been breaking my heart over and over again and I just…I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then don’t let it go, don’t let it go without a fight.”

Wanda lifted her face to see her counterpart dead serious, the woman came closer wrapping her hands on her forearms making sure Wanda could not look away.

“You love her, and I am pretty sure she loves you as well, whatever happened in the past it shall stay there.” Wanda then softened letting go of her grip. “Don’t give up just yet, you may be surprised.”

Wanda wanted to talk, she wanted to believe but at the moment she was just tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, everything she had lived up to that point. She was overwhelmed by the fact that you were so close to her yet so far away, that she would go back to a world in which the twins were not there and she would be, once more, alone.

________________________________________

It was a sunny day.

America went over the contents of her backpack, her body was tingling all over while a void filled with butterflies settled in her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, her hands trembling while she secured the zipper on the backpack.

“You look nervous, you know you don’t have to go, right?” Y/N came into the room glancing around before settling her eyes on America, the young woman turned around offering a tiny smile.

“I know.” She replied shrugging, her hands played with the band on her wrist she tried to look everywhere but at Y/N but at the end of the day she couldn’t help it, she lifted her face and let the tears fall down.

“I’m sorry.” America whispered waiting for a recrimination on her part, for Y/N to finally tell her how bad she had messed up the first time she had fallen on their Universe.

But it never came, nor from her or Wanda, or anyone for that matter. America surrendered to the warm embrace of Y/N’s arms, she let the tears and sobs she had been holding to scape and finally liberated her mind of the guiltiness she had been feeling all this time.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Y/N whispered soothingly her hand drawing circles with a half-smile showing on her face.

“I just…I shouldn’t have run the way I did, I should have fight or something.” America replied, leaning back, she was furrowing her brows while lifting her hands. “I could have stayed and helped around.”

“It wasn’t optional, though. You had to keep going to survive, that’s rule number one in this line of work, America.” Y/N put her hands on her pockets, her hair falling to the side with an easy smile adorning her lips. “You did what you have to at that point and no one should ever blame you for that. If it hadn’t been that way well, I wouldn’t be here telling the story.”

America doubted very much that it would have happened in such a way, but she would never really know it for certain. Ever since she started travelling through universes consciously she had learnt to deal with the different realities, trying to adapt to them and survive them. She never thought she would settle in a single universe, much less that she would get attach to the people in it.

The sound of conversation broke the sudden silence in the room, the twins laughing with Pietro and Wanda yelling for everyone to go to the backyard was the signal America had been waiting for. She stepped closer to give Y/N one last hug.

“Thank you for everything you did for me, Y/N. I couldn’t say this the last time due to the circumstances…”

“Us running for our lives?” Y/N chimed in chuckling, America snorted rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that, I mean you guys received me in your home and gave me a chance to a family, I just..I will always carry that with me.”

Y/N softened while giving the teen another hug, “anytime kid, you are welcome in our household whenever you decided to come back.”

“I know, I just think I am needed it elsewhere.”

“I think so to.” Y/N stepped back glancing to the open door. “Watch over them, make sure that they are okay.”

“I will.” America smiled grabbing her backpack ready to go.

It was almost midday by the time America and Y/n came out of the house.

The backyard was full with Tony and Loki working around the logistics and the twins just running around between the two Wanda’s and everyone else. You stood by the garden, the conversation that Loki was having with Tony, Wong, Hank and America had lost all meaning as you entertained yourself with the last sight of the world that could have been. Your body was completely tensed, your eyes drifting around until they fell on the form of Wanda, your Wanda.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, you turned to her shaking your head.

“Were you?”

“No, I was never ready whenever she was around.” Y/N replied shrugging, “but once we had made our mind there was nothing that could stop us.”

You snorted nodding, “that’s right.”

“Are you going to fight?” Y/N stepped closer, her eyes going from you to Wanda then back again.

“I am going to make things right, I’m not sure if they will end up the same way it did here.” You replied placing your hands inside your pockets. “I guess only time will tell.”

Y/N nodded stretching her right hand to you, an easy smile forming on her lips.

“I hope everything goes well for you and Wanda, Y/N, just remember what’s really important.” Y/N said grabbing your hand with a friendly squeezed. “Please, be happy.”

“Protect them and be for them whenever they need you.” You replied squeezing back.

“I will.”

“Well, I guess we can try the portal once more, are you guys ready? Did you say your good-byes?” Tony clapped before rubbing his hands, everyone went to get in position until the cries of two boys reached them over.

Tommy and Billy came running with Wanda following them close behind, Billy went directly to Wanda wrapping his arms around her while Tommy went to you.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled looking up at you.

You chuckled ruffling his hair playfully, “I doubt it, pal. You have your mom’s here, but I am gonna miss you.”

“Say hi to your Tommy for me, please? Tell him he has the best mom in the whole universe!”

Those words pierced deeply inside your heart, but the innocence and the smile in Tommy’s face made you held back any reaction that wasn’t one of agreement.

“I will, Tommy, be good.”

At the other side of the yard Wanda and Billy were having a similar conversation, Wanda hugged him tightly before trying to let go. Billy called to her, looking around before wrapping his arms around Wanda’s neck, his lips close to her ear.

“Everything is gonna be okay, mommy, don’t worry, mom will come around.” Billy offered a toothy grin to Wanda who was too shocked to talk. “say hi to your billy for me, love you mom!”

Wanda watched as Billy joined his brother right beside their mother, Wanda locked eyes with her counterpart who offered a half smile and a vision Wanda Maximoff would not talk about until several years later. For now, she was just filled with doubts, and hopes, and uncertainties and soon Wanda was drowned by the voices surrounding her.

“Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult, everyone remembers their roles?” Loki asked once more standing to the side while pointing at America who rolled her eyes.

“I do, I remember.”

“Good, because if you fail the three of you are going to be traveling around without a proper destination and probably die a horrible dead.”

“That’s so comforting, Loki.” You replied rolling your eyes. 2Stop scaring America and do your job.”

Loki rolled his eyes flickering his hands while putting the golden book out of thin air, he sat down crossing his legs while looking to an invisible spot in front of him.

“Very well, your timeline is not that hard to find, it is the only one with a latent anomaly.”

“How can you tell is ours and not a random one?”

Loki glared at you before going back to his work, “I can sense it, and this one lack something, it is missing something, I guess that would be both of you.”

Soon everyone was taking positions, Wanda stood beside you shifting from one foot to the other, her hands wiggling nervously while she tried to keep her eyes right ahead of herself. You could sense her uneasiness, her hands twitching biting her lower lip. America came forward, she was showing off a frown filled with confusion that Tony helped erased with a whispered explanation.

You eyed Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, the woman was completely tensed still bouncing trying to hold onto something but unable to find herself at ease. You doubted it for a moment before you grabbed her hand in yours.

Her hand was warm and soft, at first she was completely tensed and rigid but as soon as she sensed it was you her hand started to relax and give in the feeling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You whispered; Wanda offered a smile nodding.

“I know.” Wanda knew that as long as you kept holding her hand everything would be okay, she didn’t dare to say anything else but in a bold move she spread her fingers and soon her hand was intertwined with yours.

You jerked around but Wanda was completely focused on America, after a moment of hesitation you straightened up frowning lightly though your hand clasped tenderly Wanda’s hand.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you all, now let’s begin.” Loki closed his eyes and soon the golden light of his magic started gleaming powerfully forming a tight circle that surrounded you and Wanda alongside America.

America could feel the power, she was sensing it through her muscles and her fingertips while her mind became a mask of pure blankness trying to form an idea. She remembered the lesson, to follow the magic around her while also joining her energy with that of Wanda and Y/N, her power running through her arm in electric jolts and then igniting her eyes until she was finally ready to make it explode.

Pulling her arm back, closing her fist America stretched her arm hitting the space in between her and the backyard creating an explosion in the form of a Star. The portal opened until it was as big as America, you peeked in watching the white plains of Norway, or at least that was what you thought.

With a last glance to your counterpart and Wanda, you squeezed the hand you were holding tenderly.

“Ready?” It was all you could say before the young woman nodded and with a single step she dragged you right through the portal.

The world you three had left behind was waiting for you.

And you were not sure what would happen next, the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t want to let go of the hand holding yours.

The portal closed behind the three of you leaving everyone behind with many questions and little to no answers.

Billy and Tommy hugged Wanda still glancing the place where the portal had been moments ago. The woman glanced at her children knowing there was something bothering greatly.

“Mommy, do you think they will love us?” Tommy asked lifting his face to Wanda, Wanda furrowed her brows tilting her head.

“What do you mean, baby?”

Billy scrunched up his nose, “You think they will love Billy and Tommy the way you love us?”

Wanda softened at the question; she knelt in front of her boys not really knowing how to explain that in their world they both didn’t even exist.

“Billy, I’m pretty sure that they would be very lucky to have children like the both of you, and they would absolutely love you very much.” This answer seemed to satisfy the boys, and just when Wanda thought the topic was over Tommy talked again.

“They are gonna love us very much, mommy.” Tommy smiled snugging closer to Wanda. “Just like they love one another very much, that’s how you and mommy made us, right?”

Wanda didn’t answer, but a part of her certainly hope that Tommy was not wrong. She had always hoped that her love for you would survive in every universe, Wanda lifted her face to see Y/N looking at her with tenderness and love, and Wanda knew right there and then that her counterpart would be okay.

You never stopped looking at her like that, you just learnt how to hide it pretty well.

You were still pretty much in love with your Wanda.

And now that you were gone with her, only time would tell if love was still possible.

Wanda sighed wishing you would let go of your resentment and doubts and give yourself and her counterpart a chance.

With a last glance to the space where you and the others had been standing, Wanda turned around hopeful that the past would stay in the past.

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

Next Chapter: You are finally back to your universe, everything seems surreal as you and the others are taken to interrogation rooms before resuming your normal lives. Carol doesn't want to leave your side, and Wanda knows she needs to step aside even though that's the last thing she wants to do.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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rise-my-angel · 1 year

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

Masterlist

Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn)

Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Pre Series Content and Extras:

Scattered Memories of the Starks

Shadows of their Hatred

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

A New Life's Darkened Lust

Interlude of Jealous Desires

The Trials of Resurrection

The Injured and the Perverse

NSFW Alphabet (contains spoilers for part 3 and 4)

Woes of a Modern Day Love (a modern!au)

Fresh Heals of Old Pain (a modern!au part 2)

The Aftermath of Envy (a modern!au part 3)

Stoking the Flames (a modern!au part 4)

Then Came the Explosion (a modern!au part 5)

Part 1:

Wolves of the Lone Stag

Mouth of the Lion's Den

An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Standing Behind a Betrayal

A War of Tragic Beginning

Part 2:

King and Queen in the North

Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Reunion of New Enemies

Pleasure of Conflicted Desire

The Sanctity of Children

What Lies Beyond The Veil

Part 3:

The Cost of Our Sins

Dragged Through the Violence

Only the Cold

Fire for the King's Blood

Part 4:

Ashes of Various Grey

Plans of Pain and Horror

Afraid of a Ravens Flight

Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Visions in Eyes and Flames

A Bastard or The White Wolf

Part 5:

Home of Bloodsoaked Stone

Blazing Fire of Storming Ice

Ghostly Dreams of Old

Sailing Through the Glow

The Last Dragon

The Winter Rose

Part 6:

The Clash of Three Kings

Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Winged Shadow in the Sky

Light in the Darkest Storms

Peeking the Realms Woes

Blood, Roses and All Lies

Broken Love of the Dead

The Souls Tethered in Death

Wolves of the Past and Back

The Crows and The Sight

Part 7:

A Brewing of New Mystery

Great Wolves of White Mists

Darkness Heavy in a World

Past Becomes the Present

The Thing in the Night

Waving Tides of Turmoil

Greenish White Boodraven

Dark Blood of Blinding Light

And Wait for the Snows

Part 8:

Into the Haunted Forest

Fist of the First Men

Through the Frost Fangs

News From the South

Lies Within the Sunlight

Night of Two Distances

Screams of Cracking Ice

The Final Marching Trek

Fear Overtakes a Night

Wolves Teeth and Claws

Part 9:

Forcing Past Our Safety

One Whirlwind to the Next

Court of the North

Glimpse into the Rains

Scattered Pieces of Truth

Reunions and Realizations

Laws of Gods and Men

A Mockingbirds End

#jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones imagine

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dracarialove · 5 months

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📄 F it, I'm posting my finished fics here, too 📄

*Check the 'rouge's heart' tag if you haven't read previous chapters

[Chapter 8: Relaxation]

Rouge and Shadow kept in touch for a few weeks after their night at the club. Their feelings for each other grew over texts and phone calls; the bat accepted that she would just be waiting until he was ready to ask her for a commitment, and the hedgehog wrestled with his own pessimism regarding their potential relationship. Shadow laid awake some nights, his conscience jumping back and forth between giving it a shot and worrying that she may still not be over Knuckles.

Not knowing where Rouge's thoughts and feelings truly lay made him anxious, the reserved man hesitant to ask her outright. He continued looking for new work, though nothing was panning out, as he didn't do very well during interviews. The repeated failures began to wear down the hedgehog.

Meanwhile, the treasure hunter used her time being single to work through the broken engagement the way Shadow had suggested. She first ran through the good memories in her mind, mourning each one and crying when she needed to – though, she found it was much easier to keep her eyes dry this time around. Then, she went through the bad memories, mentally pinpointing what made them bad and which ones stemmed from something she could've controlled.

In the process of uncovering her own flaws, Rouge also began to associate Knuckles' face with how the bad memories made her feel. The method caused her feeling of sorrow towards him to steadily evaporate, being replaced with a sense of confidence that she deserved better.

At the tail end of those three weeks, after Shadow had been denied another job opportunity, he called Rouge in a stressed state. Sitting at the dining room table of his apartment, he ran his fingers through his dark quills while letting out an exhausted sigh. The charming woman's voice on the other end of the line was like an angel whispering to him that everything would be alright.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rouge," he started, trying not to sound defeated. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she responded casually. Shadow could hear the smile in her tone. "And yourself?"

He almost instinctively replied that he was also fine, something he'd been doing with many strangers multiple times a week. But he caught himself, instead telling her the truth. "Not that well. I still haven't found a new job."

Then he heard the smile drop from her voice, relieved that she wouldn't instantly try to hype him up. "I'm sorry to hear that... are you holding up okay?"

The hedgehog paused, staring at the ring-like patterns on his wooden table. "Not as well as I normally do. Truthfully, it's probably the first time in my life that the stress of searching is starting to get to me."

There was a pause from her side, Shadow assuming she was thinking. So far, the only time she seemed to not have an immediate reply was when she was contemplating something, and he was content to wait for an inevitable bright idea from the clever lady.

"I know," she finally uttered, her tone lifting again. He smirked as she did exactly what he'd anticipated. "Let's go to the beach – just you and me. Some surf and sun might put you in a better mood."

"Sure," was his unhesitant response. "As soon as possible?"

Rouge's perky tone heightened. "Absolutely. It's supposed to be clear and sunny tomorrow. Is that soon enough?"

The hedgehog chuckled, his smile becoming more genuine. "Yeah, that works."

"Great! Come by around noon and we'll go together."

"Alright – see you then."

The bat said goodbye just before they hung up, Shadow then standing from the table and pacing a bit around his living room. Staring down at the plain black cell phone in his hand, he couldn't stop himself from feeling a tinge of excitement tugging at his heart. It was unusual after the aloofness he'd become accustomed to over years of living alone.

Befriending Rouge was the first step to finally opening up to someone; she made it feel surprisingly effortless, like she was genuinely on his side and cared about his well-being. The new, positive emotion remained while he rested on the couch and filled his evening with television.

***

The next day, Shadow drove his motorcycle to Rouge's house, for once appreciating the sunlight as he never had before. The bag of beach supplies he'd packed thumped against his back with every bump in the road. When he arrived, the hedgehog rang the doorbell and stood with one fist against his hip, gazing around her front lawn at the tiny violets sprinkling lush green grass.

The bat answered a moment later, wearing a flowy white sundress with a sunflower pattern lining the skirt. He was less shy about admiring her outfit, realizing that she would want to be complimented on her fashion choices.

"You look great," he said, walking in as she stepped aside.

Rouge smiled while closing the door behind him. "Thanks. I've got to pack a couple more things and I'll be ready to go."

He watched silently as the treasure hunter trotted a few feet towards her staircase, the dress bouncing around her thighs. She pushed off the ground and flew the rest of the way up the stairs, disappearing from Shadow's line of sight, and he slowly meandered around her living room to soak in Rouge's preferred aesthetic. Sleek white and silver were the main color scheme of her walls, furniture, and floors; splashes of color accenting designer pieces to complement the framed art on her walls.

The eager woman floated back down the stairs, a sky blue bag hanging off her shoulder and brown sandals on her feet. "I'm ready! Hope you don't mind me driving."

"Not at all," replied Shadow, turning to meet her at the door.

Walking towards the driveway, she reached out to him and said, "I can store your bag."

He handed it over and she strolled towards the back of her vehicle, using the button on her key to unlock it. The sun reflected off the pure white exterior of Rouge's car, gleaming bright enough to make the hedgehog raise his hand over his eyes.

The young woman seemed not to notice him walking over to the driver's side as she stuffed their bags into the trunk. When she looked back up, pushing the trunk closed, she saw the gentleman opening the door for her – a coy blush crossed the bat's cheeks and she thanked him before climbing in.

The ride to the beach was serene, an expansive blue sky stretching out above the city while upbeat music played from the radio. It wasn't the kind of tunes Shadow would've been playing had he taken control of the stereo, but he was feeling more open-minded towards interests other than his own.

It wasn't so bad, all things considered – not as heavy or serious as the genres he typically enjoyed, but rather carrying an optimistic tone that admittedly fit better with their plans. Rouge tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as they listened. The quiet hedgehog tired of gazing out the window, looking over at his friend and cracking another smile at how happy she seemed.

The sunshine ahead of them enhanced the glow on her glossy lips, tanned skin contrasting beautifully with her snowy white hair. She caught him staring, and flashed a tantalizing grin before returning her turquoise eyes to the road.

It wasn't long before they made it to the beach, Rouge parking in a convenient spot with a view of the shore. She opened her door before Shadow had a chance to do so for her, but he concerned himself more with getting their bags out of the trunk.

The hedgehog immediately put on his sunglasses, then threw both packs over his shoulders and walked with Rouge towards the sand; he noted that she was eyeing his figure, the woman either unsure or uncaring of his awareness behind the dark shades.

After walking along the border of grass and sand for a moment, the jewel hunter pointed at a smooth patch of turf jutting farther out than the rest. "That looks like a good place to rest our things."

Shadow agreed, letting her grab a blanket from her bag and setting the supplies down on the grassy patch. A light gust rushed by just as Rouge whipped up the blanket to spread it out, the pastel sundress pressing against the back of her thighs and flowing in front of her – it was a short moment of beauty that Shadow was glad to have seen, admiring the thin line of illumination around her silhouette.

He looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring again, and checked the grass around them for garbage or ant hills. Once the blanket was flat on the ground, he joined the bat and sat with her a while; she kicked off her sandals and leaned back to support her weight on outstretched arms. The pair looked out at the sea, relatively alone save for a family playing along another side of the beach.

"I love it out here," Rouge said, breaking the silence. "Especially during the week, there's hardly anyone around."

"It's quiet," remarked Shadow, throwing one arm over his bent knee. "I've never known such a bright place to be so still."

It was the treasure hunter's turn to look over at him, noting the way he stared out at the horizon through dim lenses and under lowered lids. His dark aesthetic looked a bit out of place among the light blues, yellows, and greens of the beachy area; but he gave off a slightly different vibe than at the night club.

It was more relaxed, more comfortable, and Rouge enjoyed seeing a new demeanor from the gloomy hedgehog she'd met at the coffee shop. Starting to feel the heat of the blazing sun, she repositioned to grab the bottom of her dress, pulling it up over her head and revealing her swimsuit.

The bat was wearing a one-piece colored the same faded purple as her everyday bodysuit, the chest forming a heart over her bust as one side of the thick fabric crossed over the other. She didn't notice him covertly eyeing her as she shifted to sit closer while making her next move.

"You know, I could take you out to do things more often. I don't know how familiar you are with the city, but I know pretty much every place that's worth visiting."

He turned, his head cocking forward slightly in a natural gesture that radiated coolness. The bat continued, "I could show you around, introduce you to new experiences..."

Trailing off, she shrugged in a questioning fashion. For a moment, his expression didn't change, leading her to believe he would decline the offer. But instead, he replied, "It would probably serve me well to get out more often. I'd have no reason to go on my own, but... you make things more enjoyable."

Her cheeks flushed, Rouge overcome with esteem and feeling valued from being spoken of so respectfully. Unfortunately, the moment didn't last long, the jewel thief suddenly hearing her name being called from the parking lot. Her heart leapt in her chest, gleaming eyes darting past Shadow to pinpoint the voice.

In the distance, she spotted a blue figure quickly swaggering towards them, one white glove raised high and waving. The woman nearly jumped up, subtle panic on her face as she sped towards him; Shadow turned to watch with a bewildered expression.

Rouge met the approaching hedgehog halfway, both of them standing in the grass. "Sonic, how nice to see you! What brings you here?"

He shrugged, both hands on his hips. "Was just running by and saw your car. Figured I'd say hi! It's been a while, huh?"

"Yeah, it has been," replied the bat, clenching one palm around her arm nervously. "Did Knuckles tell you...?"

"That you guys broke up?" His lip pulled into a slight sympathetic frown. "Yeah... sorry to hear. Not much to say, I guess – he's always been a knucklehead."

She let out a chuckling exhale as the corner of her own lip curled. "You're right about that."

"Who's your friend?" Sonic asked, motioning with an upward nod towards Shadow.

Rouge sighed, crossing her arms as her eyebrows stressed together. "Someone I met the night I dumped Knuckles. I've been trying to make new friends since the breakup."

"Well, Rouge, you still have me!" the spunky young man blurted, his arms spreading to his sides. "Just because you're not with him doesn't mean we can't be friends!"

At that point, Shadow decided to stand up, approaching the pair to decipher the reason for Sonic's energetic gestures. Meanwhile, Rouge explained, "It wouldn't have felt right, you're too close with him. Besides, it's not like we know each other that well."

"How could you say that?" the blue hedgehog asked, raising one hand to his heart and feigning hurt. "We've known each other for a long time! I helped you find the perfect place for your wedding, didn't I?"

Rouge rolled her eyes while Shadow finally reached them and gained Sonic's attention.

The blue blur grinned and shoved his open hand toward Shadow, who leaned back. "Hey there, friend-of-Rouge! Nice to meet you, I'm Sonic."

"An acquaintance of yours?" the dark hedgehog asked Rouge, rejecting Sonic's handshake.

She nodded, but the beginning of her attempted sentence was interrupted by the speedster. "Hey, you look familiar, actually. I think I know you from somewhere."

Shadow looked back to Sonic, his expression unflinchingly dull. "Most likely from the coffee shop where I used to work."

"Oh, that's right!" One palm clonked against the side of his head, his eyes rolling upward in an exaggerated motion. The grin remained as he pointed at Shadow. "You were the sour barista!"

"And you were the obnoxious one who asked if we had chilidogs and then didn't buy anything," the monotone man replied, his eyes narrowing a bit behind his sunglasses.

"Such is life, my friend. Say-"

Rouge then cut him off, stepping forward to obtain his gaze. "Sonic, listen – we were really just trying to have a relaxing afternoon on the beach. It was nice to see you again, but I think we'd like to get back to that."

She looked to Shadow for confirmation, who gave her a nod. She continued, "I'll stay in touch. But, if you could, don't talk to Knuckles about any of this. He caused trouble before and I just don't want any more of that."

Sonic nodded. "Yeah, no problem. Won't run my mouth on this one."

He started to back away from them, casually swinging his arms as he moved. "And hey, don't forget about the rest of us when you move on from Knuckles."

Before she could respond, the blue hedgehog sped away, dust kicking up into the air as a strong breeze blew past. Rouge looked at Shadow, crossing her arms behind her back and anxiously fidgeting with her pinky finger.

"Sorry about that... I had no idea he would show up here, of all places," she said. "We were friends when I was with my ex."

Shadow turned towards the shore, taking the bat's hand in his and leading her. "Let's not talk about that now. It's not what we came for, right?"

She eased up, a heartfelt smile creeping across her muzzle. "Right."

They walked into the water together, clear blue waves sinking away to then rush forth over Rouge's feet. The hedgehog was more concerned with his company's enjoyment, not finding much comfort in the cool sea but liking the soft smile on her face.

They stood for a while in thigh-deep saltwater, the treasure hunter running her hands along the surface while Shadow ignored the tiny fish brushing against his legs. He got a bit bored, just gazing around, leaving himself vulnerable to a sudden splash from the mischievous woman.

"Gotcha," Rouge chuckled when he turned to her with a surprised expression.

The innocence of her teasing brought an involuntary smile to his face as Shadow flashed her a playfully vengeful look. He splashed her back, more forcefully and causing her to let out a giggly exclamation. When she moved to retaliate, the bat took a step toward him and her leg waded into a bushel of seaweed; the spindly plant instantly tangled around her calf, the momentum sending her toppling further than she intended. The hedgehog was quick to catch her, but his loose footing slipped forward and made him fall on his behind.

The relatively shallow pool of water splashed around them as they both crashed to the wet sandy ground. Rouge was mortified, her cheeks red with embarrassment from tripping so awkwardly; Shadow was simply stunned by the fall, his hands pressed against her shoulders in an attempt to prevent her from hitting the water.

When she managed to prop herself up on outstretched arms, the bat's gaze ran up to his. His glasses were askew, one side laying higher than the other and leaving a single eye unshielded. He took them off once she was stable, the lenses dripping with water droplets, and they shared a long moment of starry-eyed staring.

A faint voice nagged in Rouge's ear, 'Kiss him.'

#sonic fanfiction #ship fanfic #rouge's heart #rouge's heart chapter 8 #dracaria fics #shadouge #shadrouge #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #writing

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beansprean · 7 months

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Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

A commission from andieandiiandee(@TikTok) based on chapter 14 of “Hounds of Love” by @andiforyou!! ❤️

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of human Nandor dressed in a chainmail shirt with chest plating, a silver sword dangling from his left ear, a brown leather belt, and a brown leather baldric over his shoulder attached to a real sword at his hip. His hair is half up, twin braids from his temples forming a bun at the crown of his head and held in place by a leather clasp threaded with a stick. He is leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed, and staring offscreen with hooded eyes and a small smile, a pink heart floating by his face. 2. What Nandor is looking at. Waist up of Jeremy and Guillermo from the back as they chat idly, the vague idea of a coat rack in front of them. Jeremy is wearing long white robes. Guillermo, half turned toward Jeremy with a smile as they chat, is making motions to shrug off his puffy winter coat. 3. Extreme closeup of Nandor's eyes as they fly open in shock, cheeks flushing red. 4. Close up of Guillermo in profile, from the bridge of his nose to just below his chest, as he shrugs his coat off to reveal his bare shoulder and arm in a plain black tank top, a golden chain around his neck disappearing into the shirt. His right hand, wearing a leather glove, pulls out a piece of black fabric with a dotted white design. 5. Hips up of Guillermo from Nandor's POV on a glowing pink background, surrounded by golden sparkles, as he drops the coat completely and throws a poncho over his shoulders to complete his outfit. He is paused in motion, eyes downcast, pink mouth pursed, arms raised chest-high as the poncho flutters into place around his shoulders. It is black and translucent, decorated with a silver beadwork pattern of spiderwebs. The end of the poncho hits right at his waist line, edges scalloped like bat wings with silver pearls adorning each peak. Four short makeshift spider legs are sewn to the bottom of his tank top, two on each side. In the background are pink-tinted close ups in Nandorvision: the flex of Guillermo's bicep, the stretch of his fingers beneath the glove, and the roll of his back and stomach beneath the tight tank top as his arms stretch overhead. 6. A pink-tinted Nandorvision fantasy: full body of Nandor and Guillermo in their current outfits as Nandor grabs Guillermo at the waist and dips him, knee pressing forward between his legs and head dipped to mouth at his neck. Guillermo's arms are looped around Nandor's shoulders and he is smiling blissfully, hearts floating around his head, cheeks flushed as he tilts his head to allow Nandor access to his throat. His left leg hitches around Nandor's hip as Nandor's right hand creeps beneath the hem of his tank top. 7. Shoulders up of the real Nandor, staring slackjawed at the visions before him, cheeks flushed red and eyes wide, irises gone pink to reflect where his mind is at. 8. Small corner panel of Nandor, chest up and casting a shadow on a sparkly pink background as he comes back down to earth. He blushes, flustered, and closes his eyes with resignation, thinking to himself: "I'm going to be beating suitors away with a stick..." /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #hounds of love #fic rec #human nandor #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #jeremy wwdits #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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xprakzif · 2 months

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𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 • 𝐦.𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

chapter 3 to tell him

chapter two here

parings: matt x fem!reader

warnings: this series contains: smut, cheating(don’t condone), suggestive content, cursing, angst, fluff, mixed emotions

summary: after matt confessed his love for her in front of her boyfriend, she found out the ugly truth. but they both realize they’re in denial..

“what’s going on..?” kian spoke.

“kian, i- i can explain this, just-“

“nah..i came to tell you i didn’t think this was gonna work out, but i think he did it for me.” kian pushed past her and matt, exiting the apartment.

she didn’t go after him.

“i was gonna tell him..” her voice cracking a bit.

“y/n, i’m sorry-“

“please, matt, just go..” she whispered, tears of something that wasn’t sadness rolled down her face.

“no- i need to talk to you-“

“GO!” she shouted, and with that, he hesitantly left her apartment.

the apology

it was her fault. she knew it was, it was all wrong. she didn’t want kian finding out this way. she wanted to explain, she wanted to break up with him. but he did it for her.

he didn’t answer her 27 calls or 11 long text messages in the span of 8 days.

i mean who would? she lied to him, backstabbed him.

she’s been avoiding the boys again. only going to work, caring for shadow, and sleeping the rest of the days away.

back at the triplets house, emotions were mixed.

matt blew up her phone, hundreds of calls, messages begging her to talk to him and apologizing for barging in. nick was oblivious to everything. but nick wasn’t stupid.

he knew his brothers knew something he didn’t.

“you two wouldn’t happen to know why y/n hasn’t been texting me back? ‘cause if you do, you better start talking. this isn’t okay,” nick stomped down the stairs to the kitchen where matt and chris were eating.

they both knew there was tension and both knew what was going on.

“hello?! am i talking to the fucking wall? clearly you know something i don’t,”

matt felt a lump creep up his throat, his eyes burning with tears threatening to fall. his lip quivered as he held back his urge to cry.

“i don’t know..” chris almost whispered, looking away. they both had lost their appetite at nick’s interrogation.

he wasn’t having any of it. “so.. we’re okay with our best friend being m.i.a? none of you care to go check on her-“

“it’s- it’s me! she’s mad at me- i didn’t mean to do this- any of this!” matt blurted out with his fist slamming against the table. the tears finally escaped as he put his face in his palms.

chris looked to him, not shocked, just surprised at the outburst.

“what..” nick approached the two and took a seat next to matt. “tell me what happened, matt. i’m not-“ he glanced at chris, “we’re not mad at you, okay?”

he lifted his head and nodded with red cheeks and puffy eyes, “well..”

she was curled up on her couch watching a movie trying anything to distract herself from the truth she had to face eventually.

her phone began to vibrate on the end table next to her. it was finally off dnd. it was upside down, no idea who was calling. her heart throbbed as she took a deep breath, reaching to grab the device.

it was nick calling.

a little disappointed that it wasn’t kian, but also relived it wasn’t kian, she answered.

“..hello” her voice soft and almost hoarse.

“y/n! i’m so glad you answered. how you feeling?” she couldn’t tell if he was happy or.. mad?

“i’m alright..” she lied.

“interesting, well where have you been?”

“home.. listen, i’m really sorry i hav-“

“no- y/n, i know everything. and i’m a little mad at you, for one you didn’t tell me this. i could’ve helped you! you didn’t have to shut me out, and two, you really hurt my brother..”

she weeped on the line, she knew. that was the reason she’d been ignoring him, all of them.

“y/n.. i think it’s best if you come talk to me in person. i think you owe someone an apology, and it’s not me..”

“i know, nick.. i know”

later on in the night, she was asleep in her bedroom. well she was trying to atleast.

her phone lit up the room indicating another phone call. this time, it was kian.

“..he-“

“kian! i’ve been cal-“

“no, i was only with her to get to her friends! she had hella famous friends,”

“wha..” she whispered. he was talking, but not to her?

“don’t worry babe, she’s gone now.” kian spoke. is she having a nightmare?

another voice was heard after his, “great, now i finally get all your time..” it was a girl.

“WHAT!?” she yelled causing shadow to leap off the bed and scurry away. she was loud enough for kian to hear her through the accidental call.

“oh shit- hello? y/n? what the h-“

“oh don’t worry kian, i heard it all.” she hung up the phone and threw it on the bed.

she was furious. she was being used all this time. at the same time, she realized she cheated on kian, but she wasn’t using him.

grabbing her phone once again, she blocked kian and deleted his entire contact as well as any photos she had with him.

on instinct, her finger tapped nicks contact and typed a message.

i think i’m ready and i have something to tell you

“chris clean this up!”

matt was trying to eat until he spotted chris’s mess of cereal was all over the counter.

“that’s what you’re here for,”

“i’m not touching that.”

“you’re closer, just do it!” their argument was shortly interrupted by the sound of their doorbell.

“who the hell is that?” the two stared at each other in fear and confusion.

“can you guys shut up? and clean up that mess, god!” nick came down the stairs passing his brothers. they watched him go to check the door.

“we’re we expecting someone today?” matt whispered wondering if he forgot.

nicks voice could be barley heard as he opened the door, “come in, i’m really glad you came!” the sound of his feet along with another pair made their way up the stairs.

“um, let’s just go to my room to talk for a second,” he appeared behind the wall that lead up to the kitchen. behind him was y/n.

both matt and chris had similar expressions. matt felt his heart throb at the sight of her. his eyes went wide and he stopped in his tracks.

“hi..” she softly greeted with a wave. shame and embarrassment was visible, she didn’t expect them to be awake so early.

“..hi?” the boys said in unison.

“didn’t i tell you to clean that up? whatever, come on, y/n” nick pulled her up to his room, avoiding the awkward encounter.

matt and chris couldn’t even speak, just spared a glance and continued with their breakfast.

nick and y/n sat on his bed. she explained what happened the night before with her now ex kian. nick comforted her and said to forget him.

he then told her matt told them everything.

“oh..”

“we aren’t mad at you, y/n. well i’m a bit disappointed, but that’s besides the point. you should talk it out with him.”

she looked away shamefully, “i know, i’m sorry i’ve been ignoring you guys. it was just a lot to take in,”

“it’s all good, we still love you!” the two giggled and playfully smacked eachother. it felt so good to have her bestfriend back.

but one thing that hadn’t settled yet was matt. after talking to nick, he assured her it was fine if she went down to talk to him alone.

this is how she found herself standing in front of his bedroom door, taking a giant deep breath. all the boys were settled into their own bedrooms, so it was easy for them to be alone.

she gained the courage to knock softly on the door, the same door she stood in front of that night, to the same room she’d been in causing all this chaos.

there was a moment of stillness. maybe he didn’t want to be bothered. maybe he didn’t want to hear from her after all.

ready to turn on her heels, the click of the knob sounded and matt was in the door frame. the pink shirt he wore brought out his worrisome, blue eyes. he still had a bit of shock on his face, although he knew it was her, his brothers never knock.

“can we talk?”

“yea.. come in,” he whispered. she stepped into the room with a white glow from the open curtains. he shut the door behind her as she hesitated to sit on the bed. his room was always nicely kept, that’s something she liked about him.

he sat beside her waiting for her to initiate the conversation. she gulped the nerves in her throat,

“matt,” her eyes were glossy, “i- i’m really sorry, for everything.. i never wanted to hurt you, i-i was just dumb! i wasn’t aware of my own feelings, so i messed with yours, and i’m so sorry. i really don’t wanna ruin what we all have- i’m a terrible person!”

she sobbed out her speech, holding back the tears that prickled at the corner of her eyes, clumping up her mascara.

he watched her the entire time. a frown formed on his lips. “y/n.. you’re not a terrible person. what you did was wrong, but we all make mistakes okay?”

he scooted closer for comfort, “i’m sorry too. for bursting in like that, on you and..” he hated that name. he wouldn’t say it.

“we broke up. he was using me, not that it mattered anyway..”

matt felt some sense of relief, then guilt. he wish he would’ve stepped in sooner. kian would’ve never been in the picture.

“can we all just be friends again? i miss being with you..” she pleaded.

they looked into eachothers eyes. he knew there was no way he could bare being “just friends” with her. but whatever made her happy.

he faked a smile, “of course, i’d never wanna lose you.” she suddenly embraced him by the waist, his arms wrapping around the back of her neck and shoulders, pulling her in as tight as possible.

this is gonna be painful.

the awkwardness

matt caught himself staring again.

she invited them to her apartment to film a video of them reacting to tiktok edits, for a change of scenery. she was feeding shadow, bent over to pour food in his bowl.

his eyes lingered for a bit too long, leaving him flustered with the view.

“hello? are you watching, matt?” nick snapped pushing the phone into his face.

“yes..”

although things were back to normal with chris and nick, her and matt still shared some tension.

everytime she came around it wasn’t like before. the conversations were shorter, the jokes weren’t vulgar, it’s like they were scared of eachother.

after the video, they sat around her bedroom. the room was filled with laughter and random noises mostly coming from chris.

her and nick were laying on the bed, matt sitting at the foot and chris laying on the carpeted floor. the bedside lamp illuminated their faces.

chris got up from the floor with a groan, “you have snacks? i’m so hungry,”

“chris, you ate 20 minutes ago..” nick mentioned the food they ordered not too long ago. he just shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“there’s stuff in the pantry, go ahead.” he wasted no time after she gave him an answer, heading out the room.

“i have to pee, brb.” nick followed chris out almost instantly, leaving her and matt alone.

there was awkward silence at first. her cat suddenly hopped on the bed and began meowing at matt, causing them to giggle.

“do you not want me on the bed, shadow?” he spoke toward the cat. “you give them a home and they end up hating you,”

all she could do was smile. the way he sat there and swatted playfully at shadow made her stomach flutter. getting lost in his blue eyes even though he wasn’t looking at her, had her in a trance.

until nick and chris barged in with the entire pantry.

“we should watch a movie!”

the accident

driving in the pouring rain, she was on her way back from work. the traffic wasn’t helping the fact that her stress levels were skyrocketing, the road rage was just a plus.

sitting in the traffic for so long, the night grew later and later. it was now 11, she got out at 9:30.

she decided to turn into a street she’d never been down before to beat the line of cars, and it worked except she didn’t know where she was.

the road was flooded, but the rain on her windshield made her blind.

there was so much going on and the car felt like it stopped moving. that’s because it did stop moving.

her car completely shut down after she drove through the pool of water, messing up her engine.

she tried pushing the gas, nothing. starting the car again, nothing.

“what?” pure panic rushed through her veins. she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know anything about cars, besides how to drive one and she was barley good at that.

she clicked on her hazards to look around, not single sign of life in sight.

she grabbed her phone to see if she could call someone, scrolling through her contacts. most of which either couldn’t drive, or were out of state.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

the only one left was matt.

there was the choice of calling him for help and sitting through an awkward ride with him, or being stranded waiting for a tow truck.

clicking on his contact, hesitation flooded her nerves, she pressed call. a bold choice.

a few rings went by, her heart beat being louder than the phone itself.

“y/n?” he finally spoke.

“hey- sorry to call so suddenly-“

“no, no- you’re fine. is everything alright?!” he sounded genuinely concerned.

“yes.. well no, im kinda stuck. i’m not sure where i’m at but my car won’t start-“

“wait, huh? send me your location, i’ll be on my way,” eagerly moving on the other line, he grabbed his keys, not caring that it was storming outside in just a hoodie and sweats.

“..thanks matt,”

it was a long 20 minutes. she called her insurance company which sent her a tow truck that was taking forever.

a familiar car pulled up next to hers, she knew who it was from all the beeping they did.

grabbing her valuables, she switched cars getting soaked in the process.

“jesus, y/n-“

“i know, just- don’t.” she was already annoyed from everything going wrong. he stood silent for a bit.

there came the tow truck. she signed off the car to get repaired and brought back to her apartment.

“stay at mines, it’s closer anyway.. how’d you even end up over here? it’s nowhere near your place..” matt gripped the wheel trying to navigate through the floods.

“i was just trying to beat the traffic- no, i can’t stay. shadows at home.” she reminded herself and him of the soul purpose she was rushing home. “i swear it’s like having an actual child. i love him so much though.”

till that day matt was still happy he gifted her a kitten. he loved seeing the joy that came from her talking about it. “let’s go get him- it really would be better for you to stay with me- i mean us, since you won’t have your car..”

she thought about it for a minute. knowing all the outcomes and none of them were relatively good.

“alright, i just have to grab a few things then,”

pulling into the parking spot, the rain began dying down. it was still splashing down, just not as severe. she got out, matt followed her in.

at first she was confused, thinking he would just wait in the car. but that wasn’t matt. he wouldn’t let her do anything by herself as long as he was with her.

“shadow! did you miss me baby?” they dryed their shoes on her indoor mat after she unlocked the door.

matt awkwardly stood in the living room, unsure what to do. “you can sit, you know.. i won’t be long,”

he nodded and took a seat on the couch. shadow came and sat right on his lap waiting for pets. she went to her bedroom and grabbed a tote bag to put some clothes in. it shouldn’t have been long, maybe a couple days until her car was ready.

coming back to where matt was, she stopped by the kitchen to get shadows food and bowl, adding it to the bag.

“okay, we can go- are you sure you wanna carry him? i don’t want him to run.,” pointing to matt holding shadow like a newborn baby. “wait, let me get his kennel.”

they finally got back on the road. it was now 1:23 in the morning. the rain silenced and the streets were calm. they both hummed to the songs that played from matt’s playlist. she wouldn’t know that it was inspired by her though. she just thought it was a coincidence that all her favorite songs were on there.

“chris and nick might be asleep..” matt mentioned, opening the front door quietly. the house was dark, the only light coming from the kitchen hood.

she could tell what he was indicating. ‘nick was asleep and they shouldn’t bother him’ but what he really meant was ‘i just want you to sleep in my room.’

“that’s fine..” she replied. they made it to his bedroom, closing the door so shadow wouldn’t roam the house and bother the others.

“can i.. change real quick?” she was still in her uncomfortable work attire.

he wanted to do the same, his clothes still damp from the storm. “oh- yeah, i’ll just um- turn around..”

he wasn’t expecting her to just started stripping her clothes in front of him, but he couldn’t look away. his face displaying surprise.

she noticed after taking off her top layer, being left in a bra and panties, “what..? did i do something wrong? i mean- it’s not like you haven’t seen it before,”

“no- no! you’re right, i’m- sorry, just wasn’t expecting it..” he finally turned away to change himself.

once they were both ready, they found each other in his bed. again.

an awkward distance between the two.

“goodnight..” she spoke in the dark.

“..goodnight”

the acceptance

“oh- this looks familiar, hey y/n!” chris woke the two up, once again. “i was just coming to tell matt that we ordered food- shadow!”

this time they weren’t caught.. you know.

“alright, man- i’ll be there in a second!” matt groaned, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the sunlight.

chris let shadow out the room to let nick know his bestfriend was there. this was just a great look for her.

“y/n?! what’re you doing here? not that i’m complaining!” nick shouted too loud for the early morning.

“my car broke down in the rain last night,” she scoffed, “matt came to my rescue..”

“wow, if it was one of us, he would’ve left us stranded.” nick was joking but matt felt the tension.

“yea..”

“well, me and madi are gonna go get sushi in a few, you wanna come, y/n?” nick asked.

“i hate sushi,” she replied. “it’s okay, enjoy you’re date.”

“you suck!” nick laughed and went to his room to finish getting dressed.

the remaining three ate the breakfast that was ordered and got ready for the day. there wasn’t anything particular planned since the weather wasn’t looking too good.

they decided on staying in and hanging around the house. they played a few games since nick had left, and she used his computer. the rain outside grew heavier. the sound of thunder making her jump, along with chris barging into nicks room.

“i got bored of fortnite,” laying on nicks bed. “nick said he’s stuck at madi’s ‘cause of the storm.”

“chris! since you love shadow so much, can you go feed him?” she asked from the chair. matt came in the room confused to why they weren’t playing anymore.

“what hap-“

“we got bored,” chris got up to leave the room. “cmon kitty.”

“hey,” matt started.

“hey..”

he sucked in air between his gritted teeth. the tension was stronger than ever when they were alone. he needed to break it somehow.

“god, y/n! i can’t keep doing this- what’s up between us?!” he couldn’t hold back anymore. it was so sudden. but he felt like he had to.

she turned fully in the chair, shocked at the sudden outburst. “matt-“

“no-no, you think i’m cool with just dropping everything that happened? i mean you barley talked to me about it- all you did was ‘apologize’,” his fingers making air quotes.

“are you kidding me? matt, i did apologize, i told you what happened, and YOU,” she pointed at him, now getting up from the chair, “said everything was cool! you’re the one who agreed to being friends again-“

“shit- do you really think i meant that? how could i be friends with someone like you?” he raised his voice.

both of the bodies in the room became steaming with anger, regretful words spilling out like water. thunder clapped with each sentence that came out. they were competing with the storm at this rate.

“you know what- then don’t! we don’t have to be friends! why do you think i was avoiding you?!” the yelling they were doing hadn’t caught chris’s attention, not that either of them were worried about him. they were too focused on trying to hurt each other verbally.

“good for you! i wish you never came back!”

that was her last straw, she tried to form a sentence, but her temper got the best of her. she pushed past him and slammed open the room door.

running down the stairs, not caring about any of her things. she just wanted to be away from him.

matt instantly regretted his words seeing her storm out. he waited a second, then followed behind her. they were unintentionally stomping down the stairs, causing chris to look up from pouring cat food into a small silver bowl. he was as lost as the next guy.

she opened the front door and attempted to slam it behind her, matt holding it open for himself being hit in the process.

“y/n- where are you going?!” clutching the arm that was hit.

“why do you give a fuck? you wished i never came back remember?! so let me leave!” she was being a bit dramatic, the rain soaking her clothes and hair. it was such a beautiful yet chaotic scene. the gloomy sky being brightened with the occurring lighting.

and her in front of it all, being attacked by droplets, hurt matt more.

“can’t you see? i wouldn’t be doing all of this if i didn’t-“

“didn’t what, matt? care? love me? do you even mean it?” she started to sob, the tears mixing in with the rain. “what were you even saying that night? when i was trying to break up with kian?! like are you just trying to fuck with me, matt?”

he came from under the door, entering the storm and the battle. he was face to face with her. “no! i’m not trying anything- y/n- i fucking love you! i’ve been in love with you since i met you- i just couldn’t admit it and i’ve been hating myself ever since-“

her hands grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto hers. his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her in so their bodies were touching. the kiss wasn’t like any they shared before. the feelings were mutual this time, loving and warm despite the cold rain.

in the upstairs window, chris’s jaw was to the floor. “they were just fighting..” he spoke to shadow as if he would respond. poor shadow never got his food.

the two outside were too lovestruck in the rain to notice a car pull up, dropping nick off.

“what.. the actual fuck..”

fuck it guess we both ain’t shit🤷‍♀️

yes there will be a part four (potentially the last part!!) also thanks for all the love on the previous parts mwah 😽

tag list!! @sturnobsessedwh0re @ilovechrissturniolosposts @sturnsxbitvh @sturnsxplr-25 @sturniluvr @asimp4chris @mattspearlz @annsx03 @sarosfilms @sucretwin @little-bisexual-intern @idontknowwhyimhere33

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aethon-recs · 22 days

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This Week in Tomarrymort (5 – 12 September 2024)

Another week, another fantastic lineup of ongoing Tomarrymort fics that I’m either subscribed to or new one shots that I found browsing.

Also! I noticed a couple of folks doing this last week, and I thought it was a brilliant idea, so I just wanted to invite all the writers tagged here to add some more extra context to their fic update(s) in the reblog. For this format of weekly list, there’s no space to add a summary or extra info about the fics (or else it’d be like 8 pages long), so please do feel free to write a bit extra about your update and put it in the Tumblr notes for everyone’s reference! 🤍

Now onto the fics!

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 12 (Completed) of The Wall of Quartz that Keeps you From Me by @hikarimeroperiddle

One Shot | Truly Mine by @slyprentice

One Shot | Reach Out I’ll Be There by @se7enriddles

One Shot | At the Heart of My Cosmos by @v33r00

One Shot | sway by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapters 10 through 13 of Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale

Chapter 7 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 2 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 5 of The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck

Chapter 7 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 14 of The Weight of Gravity by @pagesinmylife

Chapter 29 of Tender Reigns Our Night by noumena

Chapter 16 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 10 of Your Resonating Light by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapters 119 and 120 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 7 of Lesmosyne by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 7 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 1 of break my little cold heart by @xodahafez

Chapter 1 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 5 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 33 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 9 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 2 of doublethink by confunded

Chapter 12 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 1 of settle down in my ribs (devour my beating heart) by @floatingdandelionseeds

Chapter 3 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 3 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapter 28 of Phantom by Flipdarkchill

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarrymort recs #aethon recs #tomarry recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #hp fic recs #harrymort recs #tomarry weekly #this week in tomarrymort

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flowerandblood · 1 month

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Archmaester Gyldayn's Chronicle

The Price of Pride Chapters from 1 to 8

Archmaester Gyldayn's chronicle combines information gathered by Septon Eustace and Mushroom concerning what happened after Prince Aemond ordered the abduction of Daemon Targaryen's eldest daughter with his first wife, Rhea Royce. As is common in history, lies and truth become one.

Previous part ➽

Sources disagree on when exactly Prince Aemond ordered the abduction of his cousin — Septon Eustace believed it was an attempt to repair his image in the eyes of his family after the murder of Lucerys Velaryon, Mushroom, however, argued that the Prince desired her for himself out of sheer vanity, displeased that he had to marry the daughter of a mere Lord. This is how Septon Eustace described her arrival in the Keep:

The guards were surprised by the calmness and dignity with which she endured the discomforts of her cell — apparently this also impressed the young Prince, for although cool and mocking in his manner, he appreciated her steadfast character and attitude by assigning her one of the chambers. King Aegon received his cousin with joy and treated her as a member of his family. “Our family has forgotten you,” the ruler was to say when she was presented before him, “and I am deeply sorry for it.”

Mushroom, however, believed that the story had been falsely presented in a light favourable to King Aegon and his brother, maintaining that Prince Aemond had taken his cousin by force on the very first day, delighted by her beauty. According to reports, just after the act was over, the Prince was to say to his guards that he was surprised that she was a maiden.

Whatever might be the truth, the familiarity between the Prince and his cousin did not escape the gaze of the court, and their solitary expedition to the Vale together only furthered the rumours about the nature of their relationship. The fact is that the pair returned victorious, flying on their dragons over King's Landing.

Eyewitnesses recounted seeing Vhagar and another large, terrifying dragon flying side by side in the skies — a few days later, Sheepstealer was circling alone with his Lady during a patrol, his shadow causing fear and panic among the commoners.

Mushroom mentions the reaction in Dragonstone to the news that Princess Rhaenyra was not the only one who was trying to consolidate her position in the war with the help of dragon seed.

The Rough Prince, when word was passed to him that his daughter had tamed the mighty dragon sat down in his chair, hid his face in his hands and wept. “You have abandoned her and she will take revenge,” his wife told him, “we will all pay for how cold your heart is.”

The Prince's lone expedition with an unmarried woman aroused envy in his betrothed, Borros Baratheon's daughter, Floris, who came to the Red Keep demanding an explanation. Septon Eustace describes the events in detail:

Lady Floris was received with honours by the Prince himself, who walked out to greet her — they were seen strolling together through the corridors of the keep, walking hand in hand. During the evening feast, Borros Baratheon's daughter loudly expressed her displeasure and insulted a royal relative.

“I did not know that you look so ordinary, my Lady,” she was to say, referring certainly to the dark hair and eyes of her betrothed's cousin, for which the Prince was to rebuke her in front of everyone. “Jealousy does not suit you,” he was to reply, humiliating his betrothed “just as the gown you are wearing.”

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed when Lady Floris assaulted Prince Aemond's favourite in one of the corridors, hitting her on the back of her head with a candlestick in a rage of jealousy. The Prince's fury was great and he ordered her to leave the keep immediately, himself spending the entire night at his cousin's bedside.

While Mushroom confirms that Floris came to King's Landing demanding an explanation, he depicts recent events as having taken place completely differently.

When Lady Floris walked into her betrothed's chamber, intending to wish him a good night and place a kiss on his lips, she saw to her despair the bare bodies of her Prince and his cousin in a tight, hot embrace. The servants said they did not notice the poor girl for some time, absorbed in their own pleasure.

Floris Baratheon left the Red Keep the next day drenched in tears. When she returned to Storm's End, according to Mushroom, her father was furious.

Lord of Storm's End rose from his stone throne, calling his daughter a foolish goose. “For centuries men have had wives and mistresses — a wise woman knows which is more important. You could have been a princess, and you will be a nobody.” Despite his desire for revenge, after what happened to Lucerys Velaryon, Lord Baratheon dared not put up any real resistance to the One-Eyed Prince.

The betrothal between Prince Aemond and Lady Floris was broken with no effect on the alliance, and from that point onwards it was certain that the Prince began to take his cousin to his bed. Septon Eustace depicted their fiery affection as follows:

The young Prince became inflamed with affection for his cousin, appreciating her wisdom, courage and sincerity. Rejected by his father and suffering through the sins of his past, he sought solace in her person, spending whole nights in her company. Out of respect for her, he did not take her maidenhood, simply enjoying her presence, spending long hours discussing history, philosophy and poetry.

Mushroom is not so lenient in his assessment of their intimacy, leaving no illusions as to what was taking place behind the closed doors of the chamber:

The guards recalled loud moans of pleasure coming from the Prince's chamber every night. It is said that Prince Aegon desired his brother to share her sweet, shapely body with him; however, Prince Aemond, being a vain and jealous man, refused him, telling him to return to his own wife, for which Prince Aegon was later to take lavish revenge.

Previous part ➽

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cressidagrey · 2 months

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The Ties that Bind - Chapter 8

Summary:

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings:

This is nearly 5k. I have no idea where it came from.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

She shared his blood. Of all the people in the world, Cilla was the one who shared his blood. He had never thought that blood made a family. He had two brothers and he was related by blood to neither.

Cassian didn't know how he was supposed to feel about it. But then...he didn't know how he was supposed to feel about any of this.

He had never attached much significance to the notion of blood ties. After all, his own sense of family was built upon loyalty and trust, not shared ancestry. Yet, the knowledge that he was a father, especially to an illegitimate child...to a bastard...that stirred something within him that he couldn't ignore.

Of all the things he always promised himself he wouldn't do...he had done it. He had fathered a bastard. The one thing, the one thing he had held above all else on the scales of things he wasn't willing to do. He had never wanted to put a child through what he had gone through.

But it had happened now...Well, nearly 20 years ago. And it left him...sinking. How was he supposed to be a father to a girl he only just learned existed?

Cassian felt his breathing hitch as the enormity of it all hit him. He had a daughter, a living, breathing, person who shared his blood flowing through her veins. It was...overwhelming. Overwhelming, but oddly, not entirely unwelcome. There was a part of him that was starting to feel a sort of...pride. Excitement, even? It was buried deep down, but there nonetheless.

"You're brooding. Again," his mate said drily as she entered the room. His head snapped to watch Nesta make her way to where he sat in the window seat, curling up across from him, watching him with shrewdly intelligent grey eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

At her question, he let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "Just doing some...brooding," he replied, his tone filled with a mixture of sarcasm and resignation. He ran a hand through his messy hair.

He should have known about Cilla's existence. If he had known...then all of this...would have never happened to him. He would have taken care of his daughter damnit. She would have never spent decades locked into an attic...she would have never been treated as abhorrently as she had.

A surge of anger welled up inside him at the thought of his daughter's suffering. If only he had known...he could have done something. He

He could have made a difference

His hands clenched into fists as the anger and frustration coursed through him. "If I had known," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I could have...done something. Protected her."

"But you didn't know," Nesta said, her voice even. He didn't think that she didn't feel anything about it...but she was seeing it all so...so calmly.

"Why aren't you angry?" he demanded.

"If you believe it or not I have been very much aware that you had a life before me. Why should I get angry at a girl who was born before we even met each other?" Nesta said with a snort. "Besides...I think she had...enough things in her life that were horrible, don't you agree?"

Cassian blinked at her response, taken aback by her calm logic. It was so typical of her, to see through the emotional fog to the heart of the matter. He let out a sigh, leaning back against the window frame. "You're right," he admitted reluctantly. "I...I just...wish I had known. I could have been there for her...protected her from all the horrors she's been through."

"You weren't there. Through no fault of your own," Nesta said quietly. "But you are there now. And you have time, Cassian. You can fix this...Just...don't expect her to fall around your neck and be delighted with you immediately. I don't think Cilla even knows what it means to be part of a family."

His heart ached at Nesta's words. She was right, of course. His daughter had spent most of her life isolated and neglected. It was unrealistic to expect her to immediately trust and accept him simply because he was her father.

"I know," he muttered, his jaw clenching. "I know I can't expect her to just...trust me immediately. I just...I don't know how to be a father, Nes."

"Well, Rhysand didn't know it either, and he seems to be an alright job," Nesta said drily. "Don't tell him I said that, by the way."

Cassian couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at her comment. "Your secret's safe with me," he assured her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Despite the situation, it was comforting to know that he could always count on Nesta's dry wit and unflappability.

"But...you're right," he continued after a moment. "If Rhys can do it, so can I...right?"

"Besides, you do have a secret weapon," Nesta agreed. "She's mated to Azriel. She's probably willing to meet you, just because of what you mean to Az. It's not...the perfect position to be in, but it's a start."

"You're mercenary," he told her with a sigh.

Cassian shook his head, a hint of amusement flickering in his expression. "You're right, I can always use that as leverage," he said dryly. "But that's not exactly the ideal start now, is it?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"It's a start nonetheless," Nesta said easily. "Why don't you go over to Azriel's house tomorrow...maybe bring some pastries...see if Cilla is willing to see you for lunch."

Cassian let out a wry chuckle. "You make it all sound so simple," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Just pop over, bring some pastries, and have a chat over lunch." He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling agitated."It's not that easy, Nes," he sighed. "We don't even know if she'll want to talk to me. And even if she does...what the hell do I even say? 'Hey, sorry I wasn't there all your life, I also can't remember your mother, but I am willing to try?' I bet she'll take that well."

"Give her a chance," Nesta insisted. "It can't get much worse, can it?"

Cassian let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're right," he conceded. "I guess it can't get much worse. Alright, I'll go over there tomorrow."

And he did. He brought pastries, he made his way to the mountains, where Azriel kept his little cabin...and then he could just stare as he watched his daughter soar through the air. Granted...it wasn't really soaring. It was more of an excited flapping off her wings just a few meters over the ground, with Azriel hovering protectively nearby...but she was definitely airborne, her laughter filling the skies. Cassian had never heard a more beautiful sound.

Cassian found himself rooted in place, mesmerised by the sight of his daughter flying, her wings unfurled in the air.

When Cilla finally touched down, her laughter fading into a breathless gasp, Cassian took a step forward. Azriel's gaze flicked towards him, a subtle warning in his eyes. Cassian could sense the tension and protectiveness in his brother's stance, and he couldn't really blame him. Cassian was a stranger to her after all. And she was Azriel's mate.

An even more subtle hand movement...telling Cassian to wait as he watched Azriel talk to Cilla, her hands moving, shadows clinging onto them as she waved them around to illustrate a point...and then grasp his brother's neck and pull him down to kiss her.

Really? He didn't need to see that...he really didn't need to see that...even when his daughter obviously was quite happy with it.

The kiss ended. "Cassian is at the ward boundary," Azriel said, his voice quiet but if Cassian tried he could still hear him. "Do you want to see him?"

Cilla glanced nervously in the direction of the wards and Cassian, her wings tucked tightly against her back. Seeing her expression, Azriel rested a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to mutter something in her ear. Cassian strained to hear, but he could only make out a few words..."Your choice"....and...he was pretty sure he heard something about "pastries"...

He looked down to find one of Azriel's shadows investigating the bag, and he watched with some amusement as the curious little shadow darted in and out of the bag.

Cassian couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the sight. Even Azriel’s shadows were curious about the pastries he had brought.

"Just him," Cilla asked, her voice shaky.

"Just him," Azriel promised. "Your choice. Your pace. If you need more time tell me."

Cilla nodded, her hands twisting in front of her. Cassian could almost read her thoughts, the nervous energy she was exerting. Azriel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder again. "Just breathe," he advised. "You get to set the pace. Just you and him. I'll be right here, okay?"

Cilla nodded, her wings twitching slightly. "Okay," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Cassian could see her gathering her courage. Azriel gave her shoulder one more squeeze before stepping back, his presence a reassuring presence even from a distance.

Cassian watched as Cilla took a deep breath, steeling herself before turning to face him. Her expression was a mix of hesitation and trepidation. Azriel had let down the wards around the place...or maybe just made them thin enough that Cassian could easily step through.

As he stepped forward, Cilla started, her wings instinctively flared just a bit. Her eyes widened as she took him in fully, and Cassian could almost see the resemblance between them…again. The hair…the shape of her face…her brows…her ears were pointy, much different than the usual rounded Illyrian ones…

And she stood there…silently.

Everything about his daughter seemed to be silent. Like she was scared to make too much noise.

Cassian paused a few steps away from her, holding out the pastries in an offering. "I...brought pastries," he said gruffly, his voice sounding almost awkward. He cursed himself mentally...he wasn't usually so bloody awkward...but then again, he wasn't usually meeting his bastard child for the...second time, now was he?

And the first time...she had trembled her way through the whole meeting, staring at him wide-eyed, the shadows dancing around her, clearly agitated, clearly trying to offer her comfort and failing horribly.

Yeah...that first time had been...something. Cilla had been terrified, trembling and wide-eyed, and the shadows had been a nervous, agitated mess around her.

He'd done his best to be gentle, reassuring her as much as he could. And now...he was here again, hoping that this time he would manage not to scare her.

Cassian didn't have much experience in dealing with...easily frightened people. He was used to dealing with hardened soldiers, warriors, and people who could spar, fight, and handle themselves.

Cilla was...different. Everything seemed to scare her, and he felt woefully out of his depth.

Cilla's eyes flicked between him and the pastries he was holding out. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, and the shadows around her shifted and fluttered, agitated by her nervousness.

After a moment, she reached out with trembling fingers, gently taking the packaged pastries from him. She looked down at the pastries, then back up at him, unsure what to do next.

Cassian silently observed her, waiting for her to lead the interaction. He had come prepared with pastries and conversation starters, but he knew that pushing her too quickly would only make it worse. So he waited, watching her closely as she held the pastries, her eyes flickering up to meet his and then darting away.

"How about we go inside?" Azriel suggested, for once the voice of reason. Cilla swallowed but nodded.

Cassian was grateful for his intervention. Even at a distance, Azriel probably realised that neither of them was very good at this. And Cilla grasped Azriel’s hand as soon as he was near enough, fitting herself against his side, half hiding against him…clearly pulling comfort from her mate.

He followed her and Azriel, remaining a few steps behind, his eyes taking in the surroundings, silently making note of the little things that spoke of Azriel's presence in the house…a warm and cosy little cabin.

Cilla seated herself at the table nervously as Azriel lit the fireplace. The faint glow of the fire cast dancing shadows across the room, and the crackling of firewood provided a soothing background noise. Cassian sat down across from her, the pastries now resting on the table between them.

They sat there in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire

Cilla's eyes darted down to the pastries, her fingers tracing the paper wrapping of the sweets. She seemed lost in thought, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity."The pastries are blueberry," he offered softly, hoping to break the silence.

His words seemed to do the trick, as Cilla's gaze flicked up to him, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before darting away again. "I like blueberry" she murmured, almost to herself.

Cassian couldn't help but feel a pang of relief at her response. It was a small, but hopeful sign that perhaps he wouldn't mess this up completely. "One of my favourites, too," he said, hoping to keep the conversation going.

He'd planned several conversation topics, but they all felt wrong now. Like they would be too forced or too direct.

"How...How did the flying lesson go?" he asked, hoping that that would be...something safe to ask her. A small smile twitched on her face.

When he asked about her flying lesson, a small smile played at the corner of her lips. "It went good," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her wings shifted at her back, as if itching to take flight.

"I...I've never felt so...free before" she added after a moment.

"That's good," he agreed quietly. "And...everything else?" he asked...delicately, resulting in Azriel snorting as he finished tending to the fire.

"Cassian wants to know if I am treating you well," he told Cilla, her smile widening.

"He's a good mate," Cilla answered, sticking her chin out like she was daring Cassian to disagree.

Cassian chuckled at Azriel's description and Cilla's fierce defence of him. "I'm glad to hear it," he managed to say, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn't deny it, he was relieved to know that Cilla seemed happy, well cared for, and clearly in love with Azriel. He just hoped...she wouldn't hate him for all the time they'd missed together.

Her fingers started picking at the paper of the pastries, shredding the thin wrapping as if she was trying to give her fidgeting something to do.

Cassian cursed silently, noticing her defensive reaction. He had hoped that he wouldn't scare her off, but he could clearly see the tension in her body, the way her wings trembled just a bit as she retreated into herself.

He didn't want her to feel like he was trying to force anything on her or make up for lost time in one conversation. But he was starting to realise just how hard this would be.

"I..." he began, but the words died in his throat. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he wasn't trying to pressure her, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he just sat there, silent and unsure, watching as she continued to pick at the wrapping of the pastries.

The silence stretched on, becoming almost unbearable. He cursed internally, realising that he was completely out of his depths. This was not something he knew how to handle.

"Cilla," he began, trying a different approach. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, hoping to make himself appear less intimidating. "I just...I want you to know that I'm not trying to force anything on you."

He paused, waiting for any reaction from her, but her gaze remained fixed on the pastries, her fingers picking at the shredded paper.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I know I wasn't there for you...all those years. And...and I can't change that. And I don't expect you to forgive me for it, either."

He waited for a response, a sign that she was even listening to him. But her wings remained tightly folded around her, her head still bowed. He could see the tension in her shoulders, and he hated that he was the one causing it.

But he forced himself to continue because he needed to say this. "I just want...I want you to know that...I'm here now."

The words hung in the air like a heavyweight. He watched as Cilla's wings seemed to shiver slightly, her shoulders hunching even more. But he refused to give up, even if the hope of getting through to her was starting to slip away.

"And I don't want anything in return," he went on. "I don't...expect anything from you. I just..." he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "I just want to get to know my...daughter."

The silence settled again, and the only sounds were the crackling fire and the soft flutter of the shadows. Cassian could see Azriel's eyes watching them both from across the room, probably silently wondering if he should step in. But neither of them had any idea what to do here.

Cilla, on the other hand, was still hunched over the pastries, her wings drawn so tightly around her that she resembled a quaking leaf caught in the wind.

What could he say to a daughter he had never met? To a child, he had missed out on so much of her life?

It was Azriel who suddenly spoke up, his voice breaking the tense silence. "Why don't you try one of the pastries, Cilla?" he suggested gently. His voice was soft, soothing, like a caress. Cilla's head jerked up at the sound of his voice, her wings twitching. "They're blueberry," he continued, shifting a bit closer from his position at the fireplace. “You said you like blueberry, right?” Cilla's eyes flickered towards the pastries and the mention of them being blueberry, her fingers ceasing their picking. She nodded silently, her body still visibly tense.

"They're probably delicious," Azriel prodded, a hint of a smile in his voice. "You should try one." As if to encourage her, he picked up one of the sweets himself, holding it out to her.

Cilla's eyes flickered between the pastry and Azriel's face, clearly torn. The tension in her body didn't relent, but she slowly extended a trembling hand to take the pastry.

"There you go," Azriel murmured, placing the pastry in her palm. He carefully let go and backed off slightly, giving her space while still keeping a watchful eye.

Cilla held the pastry gingerly, turning it over in her palm, inspecting it as if it was some rare treasure. She didn't seem very hungry, Cassian noted with a pang.

It was then that Cassian realised just how thin she was. He could see the faint outline of her bones under the loose shirt she was wearing, the way her collarbone jutted out under her skin. She looked...delicate. Fragile. As if a strong wind could knock her down.

Cassian's stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt and concern.

It felt like an eternity before she actually put the pastry in her mouth, taking a tentative and small bite. Cassian couldn't even find it in himself to feel relieved; her swallowing just made him more concerned.

Did she even enjoy it? Or was she just forcing herself to eat?

To his surprise, Cilla took another bite, her eyes fluttering closed as if savouring the taste. A small moan escaped her lips, and he could almost see the tension draining from her body as she relaxed a bit.

"Is it good?" Azriel asked a smile in his voice. Cilla's eyes opened, a flicker of surprise in them as if she had forgotten that Azriel was even there. She swallowed her bite, then nodded quietly.

Cassian couldn't help but feel a pang of...affection, and relief, at seeing this small sign of her enjoying something.

Azriel's smile widened, the shadows around him seeming to react, shifting and dancing as he moved closer to sit beside Cilla. He placed a gentle hand on her back, and she tensed momentarily but relaxed almost immediately.

Cassian could see the way she leaned slightly into Azriel's touch, seeking comfort and reassurance from his presence.

She took another bite of the pastry, her eyes fluttering closed again. Cassian could see how the tension seemed to seep out of her body, replaced slowly by calm.

He stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the moment between the two, and simply watched as Cilla slowly started to relax, her wings losing their tension as she leaned into Azriel.

Azriel murmured something to her, his voice too low for Cassian to make out the words, a gentle reassurance, his hand gently rubbing her back. Cassian could see the shadows shifting around them, almost acting like a shield, wrapping around them like a protective coat.

He felt a pang of envy at the sight, wishing that he could be the one soothing Cilla, the one offering her comfort.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly. He hadn't expected that.

Cassian cleared his throat. "You're very welcome," he told her. Cilla looked up from the pastry, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment, a flicker of something...appreciation, perhaps, in them before she looked down again.

He wrecked his brain trying to come up with another thing to say, his eyes suddenly caught on the children's book that was laid on the table.

"Did you read that?" he asked her quietly. She nodded, hesitation bleeding out of every pore.

"Azriel's shadows taught me how," she said, her voice shaking.

"They were quicker than I was," Azriel quipped.

Azriel's comment made Cilla's lips twitch into a small, shaky smile. Cassian found himself smiling faintly as well, almost touched at the idea of her learning with the help of Azriel's shadows.

His eyes, however, caught on to something else.

"They...taught you?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

He knew that the shadows that surrounded Azriel were...sentient, to a degree. But they usually kept to themselves and rarely interacted with others. So the fact that they had helped Azriel teach Cilla how to read... It was interesting, and a bit worrying.

"They said I could hear them because I was Azriel's mate," Cilla said and Azriel pulled in a sharp breath, that little tidbit of information was news to him too.

Oh well. She was a shadowsinger herself. There were definitely weirder things that happened. It was harmless. If it brought her some form of comfort...

Who knew what it meant that two shadowsingers had mated...who knew what that meant. one shadowsinger was rare, practically mythical...two? That was unheard of.

Cassian's mind raced with questions and speculations. Two shadowsingers mating... It was unheard of. The Illyrian lore had countless stories about Shadowsingers, but none about mated ones.

And what kind of powers did Cilla have, as the daughter of an Illyrian and a High Fae? What was even possible with that kind of pairing? The one example he had was Rhys...but Rhys was also High Lord...and with that came a whole different level of power.

And there was something else that he worried about... namely that Azriel had been forced into his job because of his innate abilities...and Cilla...she had the same abilities. He didn't think that Rhysand was going to be...quite as violent as his father had been...but it was very clear that Cilla had...abilities that would make her a prize in any court.

At least she had Azriel as her mate, who would gleefully slaughter anybody who thought that they should get to lay a hand on Cilla. He could see the way Azriel's eyes darkened at the mention of Cilla's abilities, the way the shadows around him shifted restlessly, as if ready to strike.

But even with Azriel's protection, there was no question that Cilla would be a...prime target for many. And Cassian hated that thought more than he'd ever imagined.

"Have you...thought about what...you would like to do? As a job?" he asked her, hating the way his voice was sounding. Like that mattered right now.

Cilla's eyes flicked up at Cassian's question, surprised at the topic. Her wings shuffled behind her, twitching as if considering his question.

"I...I used to work in a tannery" she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian could see the uncertainty in her eyes, that fear of the unknown. She had been trapped in a cage for most of her life...she had never had to think about a career.

"Did you like it?" he asked her, and she shrugged.

"It helped me survive," she said blankly. "I...it was work. It paid."

Her words made him wince slightly. She hadn't enjoyed it, that much he could tell. Cassian had to remind himself to keep his anger at bay, that this was not the time to start raging about her past.

He took a slow, measured breath. "I see," he said carefully, waiting to see if she would say more.

"I like books," she said suddenly. "I can't read...well...or fast. But I like them."

Cassian's heart ached at her words. She liked books, but she didn't know how to read...another thing that had been taken from her far too soon. He desperately wanted to reach out, to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen into her face, but he held himself back.

"That's...that's nice," he said carefully, trying to keep his voice steady.

"There is a library in the House of Wind, where Cassian lives," Azriel said quietly. "Hundreds and Thousands of books. The priestesses that work there always need help."

But it was...it would be such a good fit for her. The priestesses were traumatised in a myriad of ways and if anybody could understand what had happened to Cilla that wasn't Azriel...the priestesses probably were the ones to do it. It was...genius actually.

The priestesses at the House of Wind had a deep understanding of trauma and pain, having experienced it themselves. They had helped Nesta, and they could help Cilla, too, in ways that neither he nor Azriel could.

It was a logical solution, and the more he thought about it, the more he was starting to like it.

"We could go to visit if you wanted to," Azriel offered.

Cilla hesitated, her wings fidgeting anxiously behind her. She glanced at Azriel, then at Cassian, as if seeking reassurance.

Cassian tried to school his expression into one of comfort and warmth, though it was hard to keep the anger at her former life out of his eyes.

Finally, she nodded silently, her wings fluttering slightly in what looked like nervousness.

"I would like that."

Cilla's small voice, the words that she had managed to say, made Cassian's heart both lighter and heavier at the same time. Lighter because she was slowly opening up, communicating, talking, and heavy because he could almost taste the fear in her voice.

It was a start. Something. And he cradled it close to his heart.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #the ties that bind #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction

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