#swallows on the beam may chang

[shu-of-the-wind]

finally got my act together and wrapped up/formalized (though all my playlists are subject to being fiddled with at some point) the english language playlist for mei chang in swallows on the beam!

(facecast for older mei is song yi, 宋轶. i'll add it to the faq page here in a second. reasons for this facecast can be found here though cwing that for gunshots/loud sounds/violence.)

[dearsnow]

THIS CAN WORK

- as you’re trying to forget about him, the man who broke your heart shows up at your doorstep. or in which jake gets yelled at by the entire hard deck. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, angst -> fluff, reading part 1 is probably a good idea but idk if it’s 100% necessary)

PART 1

word count: 2,032

a/n - the official part 2 is here!! thank you for all the love part 1 got <3 i’m not personally the biggest jake fan but writing this was honestly so fun. i loved exploring the softer and more insecure parts of his personality, so i may have more planned for him in the future 👀

It’s been two days since Jake cut you out of his life, and to say you’ve been devastated is an understatement. You still have his shirts and his stupid nighttime noise maker, and with them, the lingering feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve already texted to let him know that you’ll drop off his things later, but he has yet to respond. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the Earth. Good, you think. Let him. But he better at least wipe any memory of himself from your thoughts first.

You’re trying your best to forget, you really are. You took down the pictures of him that hung on your wall, right by your bed, and you’ve shoved the pillow that holds the faint scent of his cologne into the depths of your closet, and the photos of him on your phone are sitting in the recently deleted album. It’s better this way, you tell yourself. You need to get him off your mind as soon as possible and move on to better things, better people. Like a stubborn stain, his presence remains.

But you still want him like you’ve never wanted a single thing before, and it makes you sick.

Jake had never felt worse in his life. As soon as he saw you walking away, he regretted it, but if there’s one thing Jake Seresin hates, it is being wrong. His friends called him every synonym for wrong in the dictionary that night.

“You’re an idiot, Bagman. She was the best thing you had going for you and you just pushed her away like that?” Phoenix scoffed. She had overheard snippets your break-up, and after prompting Penny, she knew the full story within seconds.

“I did what was best for her-“

“No, you did what was best for you.” Penny interjected. “If you can’t make the effort to keep someone so amazing in your life, you’re never going to get anywhere. Relationships require compromise and change on both sides. The whole time you were with her, she was bending over backwards to accommodate you, and you couldn’t even shift to the side a little and give her a pinch of what she needed.”

Jake could feel anger rising in his throat. He knew best, right? No one saw his perspective. No one could feel how unhappy he would’ve made you. He was setting you free. Right? Please, let him be right.

Rooster prodded him in the stomach with his pool stick. Apparently everyone was in on the conversation. “You’ve got that self-pitying look, man. You fucked up. You’ve been fucking up. If you really think you’re not good enough for her, isn’t that a reason to become good enough for her?”

“I just…” For the first time, Jake was at a loss for words. He was coming to recognize that he was wrong. He was so, so wrong, but that felt like a slap in the face. For the first time, Rooster’s words didn’t intend to antagonize him. They were honest, and he hated it.

Bob tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Jake pushed it off. “You should talk to her.” He offered. “Tell her your side, and if she’s open to it, work on yourself so you can be good for her.” His voice was soft and soothing, like he was whispering to a wounded animal. Jake felt himself burning up under the gazes of his friends.

“Yeah,” He swallowed hard, finally coming to terms with the fact that he can make mistakes. “Maybe I will.”

You’re humming to yourself, cleaning your apartment’s modest kitchen. The sun is out, shining golden beams upon the shiny counter you’re wiping down. It smells like the nicely-scented cleaner you just bought. The old one smelled too much like him. But, as you move on, so does life. Thinking about it gives you a headache, so you’ve chosen to do anything but think.

A knock at your door makes you put down your rag. You figure it’s just your landlord, considering that you were meant to pay your rent yesterday. You sigh, readying yourself to tell sweet Mr. Hammond that you’ll pay it ASAP.

Your fingers grip the door handle and pry it open. The thing has always been a little too hard to move; old hinges, you figure. Before you can get the door to open fully, you stop in your tracks. Jake.

He’s holding a bag of your favorite takeout with a sheepish look on his face. You consider slamming the door, but it would probably get stuck if you moved it too fast. “Have you come to collect your things?” You ask softly, looking him up and down. He looks like shit. He has seemingly forgotten how to shave, his stubble turning into the awkward length that you always chided him to take care of, and his deep green eyes are laden with sadness. It almost makes you feel bad for him— until, of course, you remember he broke your heart. Calm down, you think, make this quick and easy. Get him in and out.

“No.” He states simply. “I wanted to apologize.” This is a big thing for him, something so new that it sounds foreign to your ears. Jake apologizing? His shoulders are hunched slightly. You resist the urge to put a loving hand on his chest, as you usually did when he was feeling out of sorts.

“It’s fine.” Your voice is quiet, laced with as much kindness as you can muster. “I put all your stuff in a box, if you wanted to pick it up.” You’re still subtly prompting, trying to get him out again.

He places the takeout in your grasp, his pinky finger brushing lightly against your own. You hate how it still makes you tingle. Your other hand picks at the edges of your soft loungewear. Jake purses his lips slightly as you step backwards, your feet shuffling against the linoleum floor. “Can we talk?”

“I thought we just talked.” You respond curtly. He sighs, eyebrows drawn.

“I mean really talk. Just hear me out this one time, and if you want, you’ll never have to see me again.”

You nod slightly, resigning yourself to the fact that you have to get this over with. At least your apartment is clean and sparkling; in your own way, you’re telling him that you don’t need his permission to live a nice life. You can clean, and you can take care of yourself. The takeout finds its place on your small table. You pull out a stool from the side of your island and sit down as the stool’s legs creak underneath you. Jake sits, too, opposite you. His hands are shaking a little, but you turn your gaze up to his face.

You can hear his breaths deepening as he clasps his hands together. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I appreciate your apology, but that doesn’t really change what happened.” You state. He holds up a finger as if to tell you to wait just a bit. Your eyes pass over his dejected expression, his mouth tilting just the slightest bit downwards.

“I know. I was being stupid, and I see that now. You’re amazing, honey. You’re nice and generous and this genuine kind of comforting that makes me smile. When I’m with you, I feel like I want to be better. And trust me, I do. I want to be so much better for you. When I first met you, I thought that you’d be a fit for Bob or something, that’s how amazing you are. I thought deserved someone like him, someone just as caring, but I fell in love with you instead, and now look where we are.” He chuckles dryly. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I just felt inadequate and stupidly insecure. I know I’m not what a respectable girl like you would want, so I pushed you away and hurt you instead. I didn’t consider your feelings at all that night, and for that, I really am sorry. I don’t know if that explanation changes anything now, but I had to give it a shot; you were never too sweet, I was just too damn bitter.”

His words come out in a ramble. You’ve never seen him so much as stutter, but his confident, calm voice is bordering on anxious. You can’t even believe what you’re hearing.

It takes a lot of guts to say something like that. When you look back on your interactions, on everything he’s ever said or done around you, you finally see it clearly. All he does is build himself up to be this great figure, so much so that people can’t tell that his ego has been sorely bruised. That’s why he shrugs off comfort and security, fucking up every sure thing in his life during the process.

He’s boring a hole into your forehead with how hard he’s staring. His hands are still white-knuckled, holding each other like they’re seeking some sort of solace. The tension in the air is palpable as you take a breath. “Thank you. I… It’s nice to hear you acknowledge that.”

Jake can hear his breathing quicken shakily. That could’ve gone a lot worse. You’re not screaming at him, hitting him, kicking him out, anything that he thinks you should do. You’re just sitting there, nails digging into the flesh on your arm, looking shocked and heartbroken all at once. He takes one deep gulp of air. “You’re welcome. I’ll get out of your hair now.” He stands to leave, but your smaller hand catches his. His palm is damp.

“I’m sorry you ever had to feel that way about yourself.” You say. His small admission of insecurity weighs on you like nothing else. “You’re a good guy, Jake. I hope you’ll take this as an opportunity to work on yourself and find what makes you happy.”

Budding tears prick at his waterline. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but looking at you makes him want to. He wants to slide into your arms and sob, press his face into your neck and tell you over and over that he wants you back. He has to try. He thinks he’ll regret it for his whole life if he doesn’t. “You make me happy,” he hesitates, “and if you’ll have me, I’d like to have you around while I work on myself. I need you. You make me want to be good enough for you.”

You take one step, then another, and he doesn’t protest a single bit as you envelop him in a hug. His muscles relax as he wraps his arms around you, the tension breathing a sigh of relief. “I’d like that.” Your voice is slightly muffled from being pressed into his chest, but he hears you loud and clear. “I missed being with you.”

You missed the way he would cook you breakfast in the mornings with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and classic rock playing from his phone. He always told you that you’d get the whole experience when you visited him, starting with his lips caressing your collarbones and continuing with breakfast in bed. It didn’t even matter if you didn’t want to leave; he would take you with him, wherever he went. He even got in trouble once for sneaking you on base.

You missed his scratchy morning voice and warm hands and how he always had an arm around you. You missed him caring about you, wiping your tears, and you missed how confidently he showed you off and stood up for you. You missed almost everything about him, if you’re being honest. You thinking you could live without him was but a brief lapse in your sanity.

“I missed you too.” He whispers. “I… I really do love you, darlin’. I’ll shape up, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You smile.

For the first time in a while, Jake can feel hope pricking at his heart, and you can feel it beating through his shirt.

Maybe, just maybe, you think, this can work.

Taglist: @seitmai

[uzurakis]

childhood friend! reader who's somehow getting closer with itadori due to them being both bubbly and chatty; this obviously doesn't go unnoticed by megumi.

he can feel the resentment gradually building up within him, but how could he ever dislike itadori? sure, the pink-haired boy tends to steal the attention of his childhood friend (that megumi may or may not secretly harbor feelings for) but hey, could he blame reader for being drawn towards such a passionate and humorous guy?

(winks) i'm leaving you to decide which direction this scenario should go hehe

n. i can promise you that i understand very well which direction to write this, nonnie (winks aggressively). hope this serves justice for your req <3

fushiguro megumi had always been reserved.

a man who preferred the company of his thoughts to the noise of the world. he had grown accustomed to solitude, finding solace in the quiet corners of his mind where he could retreat from the chaos of the outside world.

but then you came along, a beam of light in his otherwise bleak life. you were his childhood friend, the only one who had managed to break the walls he had put around the core of his being. and as he saw you grow closer to itadori yuuji, a friend of both of you, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping into his soul.

as you walked into the bustling classroom, your eyes immediately found their way to itadori’s infectious smile. he was chatting animatedly with you, his laughter filling the room like a burst of sunshine. you’ve been drawn to his magnetic personality, his energy infectious and his jokes never failing to bring a smile to your face.

fushiguro megumi, your childhood friend, stood off to the side, expression unreadable as he observed the interaction between you and itadori. there was a tightness in his chest, a pang of jealousy that he couldn't quite shake off. he had always been reserved, quiet, but seeing you gravitate towards someone else, someone so different from him, it stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him.

you realized that as the days went by, you were spending an increasing amount of time with itadori because of his carefree nature and enthusiasm for life. you found yourself having fewer and fewer talks with megumi; his presence receding as itadori's charm dominated your days.

however, megumi always had a bad taste in his mouth whenever he saw you laughing with itadori. he was unable to ignore the bitterness that was boiling under the surface and the sense that someone so affectionately pleasant had taken his place. on the other hand, how could he blame you? how could he hold it against you for being drawn to someone who lit up the room with his mere presence?

one day, while you sat with itadori during lunch, megumi couldn't help but overhear snippets of your conversation. his heart clenched painfully as he heard you laugh, your voice mingling with itadori's in a way that felt like a stab to his chest. he turned away, the turmoil within him threatening to consume him whole.

later that afternoon, the man found himself alone with you for the first time in what felt like ages. the air between you was heavy with unspoken tension, a distance that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

"hey, megs," you started, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile. "i feel like we haven't talked in forever. you okay?"

his throat tightened at the concern in your voice, the guilt gnawing at him as he struggled to find the right words. "i'm fine," he muttered, his gaze flinching away from yours.

you weren't persuaded, though. "are you sure?" you pressed, your eyes searching his for any signs.

megumi swallowed hard, his chest tightening with a mixture of longing and frustration. "i just.. i miss us, you know?”

“i miss how things used to be."

your expression softened, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. "i miss that too, megumi," you admitted, reaching out to gently grasp his hand. "but things change. people change. it doesn't mean we can't still be friends, right?”

friends, he heard it right.

his heart ached at your words, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “yeah, friends..” you were slipping away, drifting further and further out of reach, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

just when the heaviness of the stillness weighed heavily on you and megumi, there came a voice from across the hallway.

"hey, [name]! come check this out!"

itadori's cheerful voice pierced through the tension, and you turned towards him with a bright smile, leaving megumi standing alone in the echoing hallway. “yuuji’s calling me. later!”

megumi watched as you pulled your hand away and hurried off to join itadori, his heart sinking as the distance between you grew wider with each step you took. already on a first-name basis? it took megumi and you some years to get used to addressing each other by your first names, but just a couple months with itadori?

thus, it was in that moment, with the sound of your laughter fading into the distance, that he realized just how much he had lost.

a sense of resignation settled over him, the bitterness in his heart mingling with a profound sadness. he had always known that he could never compete with someone like itadori, someone who effortlessly captured the attention and affection of those around him.

as he stood there, alone in the empty corridor, megumi couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end. if perhaps, despite his silent protests and unspoken desires, he had already lost you for good.

because fushiguro megumi had always been reserved.

and there’s nothing he could do about it.

@uzurakis — rqs are open <3

[impish-baby]

Ooo what about a group of fae caregivers who have been watching reader for a while and deem that this baby can’t go on longer without being taken care of, to then lead the reader out into the woods to never get them go.

Love your work btw :))

Fae!!! My favorite honestly, I hope this is alright! ^^

Come along now, run away from the humdrum. We'll go to a place that is safe from greed, anger, and boredom - Fae caregivers x reader - ☘️

The woods have always felt like a second home to you. Towering trees that stretch into the clouds, babbling brooks, it's all so much more tranquil than your busting town. Sometimes, it even feels like the forrest cares just as much about you as you care for it. It's silly, you know, but it makes you happy.

The rumors of fae are forever present, but they do nothing to deter your longing for the wild. Old wives' tales are all they are, whisperings meant to keep children from wandering too far from home and getting lost. Even if there's truth to the stories, it's none of your business. Really, you just need to be polite (something you should already do) and guard your name, it isn't that difficult.

Leaves crunch underfoot as you travel the familiar path into the woods, the changing of seasons obvious. You're a little sad to see the green go, but it is only nature's coarse. The autumn season gives way for lots of good harvest at least, basket in hand in hopes of bringing a few spoils home. As you travel deeper into the trees, the sun is eventually swallowed by the canapy, beams of light being the only thing allowed through.

A fox catches your eye for just a moment, the creature staring at you from the undergrowth. You can't resist the urge to wave politey, so you do so before it scampers back into the trees. No matter how many times you see one, they're still so beautiful.

Everything is really, that's why you've found yourself crouched in front of a patch of mushrooms reaching out of the forrest floor. They're pretty, a light brown with frilled gills..

"I hope you aren't going to pick them, those are poisonous, they don't make for very good eating.."

The sudden voice from behind you causes you to fall flat on your bottom, a melodious laugh following. "Oh dear, I didn't mean to startle you.." they offer you a hand up, giggling all the while. "Are you alright, darling?"

You manage a nod as you're helped back onto your feet, thanking the man quietly. He's tall, probably taller than anyone you've ever met, and jewelry covers his form as if his beauty didn't speak for itself. His rings catch the light as he raises your hand to his lips.

"You may call me Briar, might I have your name?"

He doesn't falter for second as you shake your head, asking him to call you a nickname instead. "Oh, I get to choose, do I?" Brair rubs his chin like he's deep in thought before springing forward and playfully tapping your nose. "Sprout then, you're just a little thing, it suits you.."

You aren't the happiest about it, but you're in no position to protest. Briar only smiles and steps away, no longer in your personal space, but waiting for you. "Are you out to pick berries perhaps? I know a great spot. I was about to fetch some myself, actually.."

He's expectant, tilting his head at you. "We'll have to go away from the path, but I promise, they'll be the best thing you've ever tasted.." You're reluctant to veer away from what you know, but Brair assures you he won't get you lost, and the promise of goodies is tempting..

You think his smile can rival the sun with how bright it is when you agree, Brair taking your hand in his as you begin to walk into the thicket. It feels right almost having your hand in his, it's strange, you've only just met but he seems familiar. Like you've always known him.

"My friends and I are having a little bit of a party, actually.." He hums, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. Brair laughs again when you ask about it, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "A welcome home party, I suppose. One for a beloved member of the family.."

It feels like it takes no time at all to come across the bushes he was referring to. The path, however, is long gone. You don't notice, attention captured by Briar guiding you to sit beside him. He was right, the berries are like nothing you've ever tasted before. They're the sweetest, nothing compares to the burst of joy they give you when you sample one.

By the end of picking, your fingers are stained pink as well as your mouth. Briar hadn't snacked on the fruit like you did, only smiling as you had your fill. "See? Good, right?" He hums, brushing your hair away from your face. "You know.. I'm sure we'll have much more yummy food at the party, I'd be delighted if you came. " Briar pays no mind to your instantaneous about not wanting to intrude and.. and if the rest of the food is as good as what you just ate..

"Perfect.." Briar is already leading you away, although you're unsure when you started walking again. "Ohh, I can't wait.."

You can hear music in the distance, the sounds of merriment beckoning you home.

[emeritusemeritus]

hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter. 

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

[jirishnesensei]

geto suguru x reader | college au [18+]

offscript ch.1 be my lead

༺ Pairing. college au - volleyball player! geto x cinematography major! reader (f)

༺ summary - In the chaotic world of college life, you should have expected your drama production to turn south as fast as it did. When your lead actor drops out just weeks before the play, you’re left scrambling to salvage the show that means everything to you. Enter Geto Suguru—talented, charming, and the last person you’d expect to help. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and you find yourself convincing him to step into the spotlight.

༺ warnings/tags - 18+, fluff, angst, smut, fem reader, romance, pining, slow burn, friends to lovers (I guess strangers to friends to lovers), acting, college au, alcohol/drugs, injury, unrequited love, jealousy, Geto is bad at feelings, swearing

༺ status - ongoing

༺ chapters - 1/x

༺ word count - 4.6k

"You belong with me. You've always belonged with me." Emi cried. Her hand is clutched to her heart, and her voice trembles, afraid that her confession may push him away.

Kazuki looks between both her eyes with such yearning. He lifts his hand slowly and sweet, cupping her tear stained cheek as though she were some figment of his imagination.

"I love -"

The actor froze. He swallows thickly, changing his weight between both his legs, then said, "I love." You clutch your pen because he was hesitating.

The stage grew quiet, waiting for his line. You glance at the script in your hand anxiously, and when the actor looks at you, you mouth the line for him, confused because his said it a million times. He looks back at the actress in front of him and you notice how the hand that held her cheek became more rough. His eyes no longer bore weight to the scripts words, and his mouth frowns into a deep, personal scowl.

"Fuck you."

The hall audibly gasps in a chorus, nevermind he had a mini microphone attached to his cheek.

The next second the lecturer is up in arms. Your friend Mai beside you looks at the script to see if there were any line changes she didn't know about, but of course there wasn't.

Cecilia, the actress, has her lips parted just barely in a trembling frown. What you assume to be real tears start streaming down her face as she watches Jean, your actor and her boyfriend, drop the script to the floor, jump off the stage and grab his bag, beelining it straight for the doors.

"What the hell is his problem?" Your friend Mai stands abruptly beside you amidst the chaos. She glares at Jean, then rounds the table and goes straight for Cecilia and you? Well, you wish you could say you had just an inkling of moral to check up on her, but the only realization managing to bypass your conscious is the fact that your only male lead is speeding towards the exit door.

"Wait!" He starts walking faster when you call. You run to his side and grip his arm desperately. "Jean, just wait. Talk to me, what the hell happened?" You look between both his eyes for some kind of answer but now that you were in front of him, the entrance light beaming down the rows of seats, you could just make out the tears that were brimming in his eyes and I don't know, there's just something about men crying that gets you feeling like you're going to cry yourself.

"She cheated." He says, as if it were physically hurting him to pull those words out of his throat.

your eyes widen, and it's the first moment you stop thinking about your play. "she what?"

"She fucking cheated," He laughs pitifully at himself, aggressively wiping his palm against his cheek over and over to the point where it was turning pink. "And you wanna know with who?"

You fumble a couple filler words, expecting him to be rhetorical, but no, he wanted an actual answer. "C'mon, guess. There's only a few people worth fucking over a 4 year relationship for."

You flinch at his tone, "I don't know."

"It was Geto. Geto fucking... I mean what the hell am I supposed to do when she cheats on me with a guy like that?" His voice cracks when he speaks so he quickly turns his head away so you don't notice, but the damage was done, you could hear him sniffling and it made your heart crack into two uneven pieces.

"Shit...I'm..." You straighten up, standing there awkwardly now as he tries to stop himself from crying in front of you. The name he mentions is not foreign to you. Probably not foreign to anybody, really. "... Jean I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter." He shakes your arm off of him that you forgot was even still holding on and presses his lips tightly together as if there was so much more he wanted to say, but he doesn't. "I'm sorry, but I can't be in this show anymore. Not when she's - " when he looks at you, all the raw emotion he was letting off was thrown into your face like a reality check that he was not in the right state of mind to negotiate. As someone who does theatre work as her major, emotions were something you learned to pick up on pretty easily and Jeans... you actually felt scared standing before him with just how unpredictable he looked, so you take a step back and nod sympathetically.

"I understand."

Then he leaves. Without another word. Slamming the doors against the wall and leaving it swinging in his wake. When he's out of sight, your mind starts to pick up on all the commotion that's happening behind you. Cecilia is a crying mess on top of the stage, and everybody is out of their positions trying to comfort her or get the tea on what really happened. 

"Hey, what did he tell you?" Your friend Mai finally jogs over, concern written all over her face. You link your hands behind your neck and sigh.

"We just lost our lead."

you cancel the rest of the session. Having no lead made it immensely difficult for you to continue so you pack your bag with your script and belongings uncaringly. Most people have already left except for Mai, but someone walks up to you and you could feel yourself teetering the edge of breaking down.

"I don't know when the next rehearsal will be."

"It's me." Your hands freeze mid stuffing your jacket inside to look up at Cecilia who stood in front of you. Eyes all red and puffy, with faded lines of mascara running down her cheeks. You'd think she was the one that got cheated on. You straighten up and gesture to the chair beside you.

"Do you want to sit?" You offer but she shakes her head. 

"I just-" she takes a deep breath in, ringing her hands together nervously. "I just wanted to apologize to you. Formally. I really messed up and -" she starts to cry again and it took you by surprise, not moving for a few seconds before you quickly walk around your table to offer her a consoling hand.

"sh sh sh, you really don't have to explain."

Mai was a ways to the side, noticing you were preoccupied so she gave a sympathetic look then continued to close up the stage for you. You mouth a 'thank you' to her from over Cecelia's shoulder.

"But aren't you angry with me?" Cece is now wailing into her palms. You try and soothe her by rubbing her back, but it didn't seem to offer much, so you stretch over the table to your tote bag and grab the mini tissue packet for her. She takes it and really goes at it, "I fucked up so bad, but now I ruined your show too. I know you worked so hard on it-"

"Its fine cece." You squeeze her shoulders and bend down a little to look into her eyes. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Do you think I don't have a replacement?"

she sniffles, lifting her head up. "I thought you said you didn't prepare for one?..."

you give her a reassuring smile. "This is the biggest show of my life, of course I prepared for one."

That seems to calm her down a little bit because she's not crying anymore, but still she wipes her eyes. "If I can do anything to help, please let me know." 

You narrow your eyes at her, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "You should just go home and rest. I'll call you when rehearsal starts up again."

She suddenly comes in for a tight hug and although you work with her, you don’t really know her personally, so you awkwardly return it with a few pats on the back but then you think she probably really needs it so you squeeze her back instead. When she thanks you and turns to leave, she stops mid-step like she wants to say something.

"um, did he... did he say anything to you when you stopped him?" She can't look into your eyes when she asks. You think it's probably out of guilt, who really knows, but there's this ugly feeling in your chest that makes you think that Jean was probably telling you the truth. You don't want to get into the middle of anything, though, so you shake your head.

"Just that you guys had some problems."

She nods but leaves with a heavy cloud over her head.

---

"Cheated?" Mai scoffs beside you as you and her walked along the colonnade outside campus, a disgusted expression on her face. "And I consoled her."

You weren't listening to much of what she said since you had your own problems to figure out. Like for one, who in the world was going to replace your lead.

"So what're you going to do?" Mai sighs and frowns when she sees how despondent you look, poking at your ice cream in a cup that you bought from some fundraising group in the university. You think it's for the Volleyball team if you're not mistaken.

Despite having told Cece that you had a replacement for Jeans' role, you didn't actually have one. Something about nobody was good enough or whatever high horse reasoning you had at the time.

"do you think I could bribe Mr Sayako into giving me an extension?" You ask Mai and she shakes her head.

"Wouldn't work hun, this was already your extension, remember?"

"Okay sure, but what the hell? he saw what happened up there. How could I have planned for that?"

"I guess it's worth a shot, but what happens if he says no?"

You sigh, then take a mouthfull of your sugary treat and speak through it. "Look for a washed-up new lead, I guess,"

"What? you're just going to give up?" 

"mm," You shake your head, taking the spoon out of your mouth so you could talk, "its not giving up. I'm accepting reality."

"That's giving up." She sweatdrops, watching you juggle your envelope and ice cream in one hand while you fish in your back pocket for your phone.

"whatever." You say, taking it out and already looking for an Uber nearby so you can wallow in your bed with that entire bottle of wine you had planned on popping for your opening night, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen. Mai suddenly takes your shoulder, and it stops you from clicking accept.

"I have a crazy idea." She says. She's peeked your interest enough to make you drop your arm, but you don't respond. "Why don't you ask Geto to be your lead?" 

You deadpan. "are you insane?" it seems the more seconds that go by the more she seems convinced that she actually thought of something brilliant. 

"I went to high school with him and he did a class play once and by the gods he was fucking phenomenal."

"a class play?" You repeat like the word was foreign to your tongue. 

"yeah!"

"Like informal and for marks?"

"Yeah? Why do I feel like you're being condescending."

you look at her funnily. "oh, is that the word?" you stuff your phone back into your pocket. "You can't possibly think because he was good in a class play he'd be good to act in front of an entire audience on a stage in make up and costume?"

"You're not listening to me!" She whines and shakes your shoulders. Her excessive persistence makes you groan, flailing your one unoccupied arm at her to push her away.

"he was fucking great! Like professional great! Every acting club begged for him to join, even I begged him once but he said no cause he was doing volleyball or whatever-" she stops talking when a sports committee student randomly stops her and shoves a flyer into her hands while you continue to walk, "Sure, thanks," she absent-mindedly answers then catches up to you, "seriously, he was really good. I can guarantee you he would be much better than any random person you find now. With all the good actors taken he's your best shot."

You scoff, taking a spoon out of your ice cream again. "best shot..." you mutter then stop walking. "ok fine, lets say he actually is as good as you say he is, what makes you think I can convince him?"

You give her a couple seconds so that the gears could turn in her head, but the disappointment never hits, and her expression changes like a lightbulb flashing yellow, "You can be very persuasive." Is her counterargument.

You raise a brow at her instead of answering, so she gives you one of her meanest glares. "Why are you being so difficult right now?"

"Because I'm not in the mood to make a fool out of myself with someone I don't even know not to mention, incase you forgot, he is literally the reason my first lead quit on me!"

"and some people fuck their CEO to get a promotion!"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

She rolls her eyes impatiently.

"You have been trying to get picked up on your writing for years now. Are you seriously willing to just throw all that away just so you can say a couple of years down the line 'at least I maintained my morals for that play'?" She looks at you genuinely concerned, and it makes you frown.

"No..."

"Then you can't be thinking about everyone else's feelings (y/n). You do what you gotta do."

"But what if-"

"Zip it." She takes your ice cream and it makes you frown harder. "It's just one audition. You miss all the shots you don't take, remember?" 

You press your lips into a tight line and narrow your eyes. Nothing you said would go through her thick skull, and admittedly, a part of you was already convinced. Mai glances down at the flyer in her hand and is about to throw it away when she gasps and starts to shove it in your face.

"You cannot tell me this isn't a sign!"

You send her an irritated look when she doesn't stop the shoving and forcibly pull the flyer out of her hand to read it. And in clear-cut bold, it says:

Volleyball Team try-outs!

The gym will be closed for the next month in order to facilitate the try-outs and training of new team members.

Trials start on the 27th of May and ends on the 21st of June

Make the time and become a part of the Todai Volleyball team!

It was professionally designed with a team photo transparently printed behind the font, too. It was a testiment to just how much the school adored their volleyball team, handing out these flyers to just about anybody that has a pair of hands, going off of the stack that was in that guys arms.

The date, however, was the most jarring because it couldn't have been more perfect, giving Geto, if he had to agree, the perfect opportunity to help you out and not clash with his practices.

Mai gasps, her line of sight just past your head. "Speak of the devil!" She grips your arm and forces your attention to the right. You feel your chest tighten when you see him in all his glory, Geto Suguru, and a few other guys you recognize as a part of the team around him. They just walked out of the econ building and you can already notice the attention they were getting.

Mai is suddenly pushing against your back fervently. "Now's your chance, c'mon! Let's go!"

"What?!" You look back at her like she's gone mental. "Now? You want me to go now?" 

"When else?!"

"I didn't even prepare anything! Don't I only have one shot?!"

"Yes and this is it! You're the most persuasive when you don't overthink anything. Just ask him and don't be a pussy about it!"

She pushes you hard, and it's enough to get you to start walking his way anxiously, looking back at her enthusiastic smile as she gives you two thumbs up like a mum sending her child off to school.

You sigh pitifully, shaking your head. What in the world has your life come to? Just now you had the perfect cast, the perfect script, and now you're going to beg and grovel to someone you've never even spoken to before? you suppose, if he does actually agree by some miracle, then you wouldn't mind. But that was one big miracle and you don't think you've done enough good deeds to warrant that.

You adjust your navy blue headband to neaten out the baby strands that were sticking out. The rowdiness of the group with their deep, masculine laughter, trying to speak over one another was becoming abundantly clear as you neared, although Geto seemed to be the only one that's not trying to scream over his teammates. You neatened your buttoned up white shirt, unrolled your black jersey sleeves, and lifted your pants up with the hoops of the waistband. 

"god... here we go," you mutter. "excuse me." you say loud enough to catch the attention of just the right person right as a guy behind him gave a solid slap on his back and exclaimed a this guys worse, dude before following the group further down the pavement, leaving you alone with Geto.

You give him your best smile, waving your hand but also mentally aware to not actually swoon over him because wow, up close you could just tell he was a man made with love. 

He’s tall, atleast six feet tall which is well above your head and there's a slight sag to his shoulders with effortless bedroom eyes. He has long, thick hair that you'd kill for, tied in a messy high bun that suggests he didn’t bother with it after his practice and he loosely grips a half-empty water bottle, droplets still clinging to the sides with one hand casually inside his long white and blue athletic pants coupled with his sports jacket that's only zipped three-quarter of the way, just enough to reveal a glint of a silver chain resting against his collarbone. The sleeves of his jacket are casually rolled up to his elbows, too, with his one arm sporting a niche black watch that looked like it wouldn't have the numbers on it. You hope you didn't pan up his physique. You just couldn't help but notice how effortlessly stylish he looked, and you started to get your hopes up that maybe Mai was onto something.

You notice he looks a bit pensive by your sudden approach, a light crease forming in his eyebrows as if trying to recognize you, but it quickly disappears the same moment his eyes flicker to your hands that still hold your small admissions envelope that you got signed to book out the hall for your shows opening night.

“I don’t think you know me,” you say, and he naturally switches into this approachable demeanor with a light smile, shaking his head that makes his bangs sway gently.

“No, I don’t think I do.” He turns away from his retreating friends to give you his full attention, and his voice catches you so off guard. You suppose, there’s a delicateness to him that you hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m (y/n),” you introduce yourself. He nods, acknowledging you. “Geto.” he says as if not everybody already knew who he was.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and exhale, suddenly feeling nervous.

“So, listen... I don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m producing this show, and I’d really like for you to audition to be my lead -" Your words trail off as you notice his expression change.

"A show?" He repeats. There’s suddenly an intensity in his gaze that makes you want to apologize for even asking because it feels like you’ve wronged him somehow. You just nod. "Yeah...or like a play, whichever works..." 

“Oh.” You hear the disinterest in his tone, but he covers it up with a polite smile, “Thank you, but I’ll have to decline. I’m really busy with volleyball practice.”

"I know you're busy," you cut him off, taking a step closer but remember you can't come off as desperate despite how much you actually are. "my play's opening night is June 23rd, and I know your practices are on hold now for the next month with the trials starting up."

He stares at you for a few seconds, almost like a deer caught in headlights and then he chuckles.

"You really did your homework."

You give him a weak smile, shrugging. "If I'm going to ask you I think it's only safe measure to know my information, right? This wouldn't be just for me either. This would be really good exposure for you too. I have pretty top end agencies attending the play and you never know. They may just be interested in what they see."

He hums, crossing his arms and getting more comfortable on his feet. It takes everything in you to not glance at how nice his arms probably look across his chest.

"But I'm pursuing volleyball, what need would I have for acting agencies?"

"Well, they're not just looking for actors," A gust of wind blows some of your hair over your lips, so you lift your hand to hold it to the side. He notices the movement. "they could use you for the sports magazine, publicize your skills, your credentials. It could easily bring nationwide attention for you to be on that."

You feel a sense of pride when Geto’s demeanor shifts subtly from uninterested to genuinely intrigued. You’ve cast the line, and now you just need to reel him in.

“Hm,” he exhales, shoulders dropping slightly. “How long is it again?”

"one month. Give or take a few days."

"and you want me to audition?"

"Yeah, any day this week is cool but preferably as soon as possible."

He raises a brow and by the tug of his lip you're assuming he found something amusing. "So wait, you are producing what sounds like the most important play of your life and you're only now looking for a lead?"

You flush at his comment, looking away sheepishly at the students exiting the campus doors. Sharp as a knife this one...

"That's a... It's a really long story, but you don't have to worry about that, I have a complete team that's ready to go at a moments notice. I just need my lead."

He taps his finger over his bicep, nibbling on the inside of his cheek as if he's thinking about it and you think you might have convinced him, but then he shakes his head again and this time he's halfway turning around with a hand raised.

"Sorry, but I'm just not interested. Good luck with your search though." then he leaves, catching up with his friends. Your jaw literally drops. He asked all those questions just to fucking say no?! 

In his defense he was surprisingly polite, but you couldn't care less about that as you feel your frustration start to fester, all the events of the day coming to a boiling point. Without thinking and with really nothing to lose, you yell:

"You owe me, you asshole!"

and he turns, so damn fast you're surprised he didn't get whiplash. His face was just screaming for you to repeat that and you did. Gladly.

"You think I don't know? sleeping around with girls that are already taken!?"

you don't even know when it happened or how in the world he moved so fast but you're suddenly pushed back into campus with a very strong hand, dragged into a random empty lecture hall as if you weren't a fully grown adult yourself and then despite how much Geto tried to whisper, he echoed in the large room.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He demands while looming over you and usually you'd be intimidated by a man as dominating as him but in this current moment you could only glare and channel every nerve of frustration into the conversation.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" You press a finger into his hard chest. "Sleeping with someone that's already taken- Do you have any idea how hard I worked, how long I slaved away at this show just to have it ruined because you couldn't keep it in your pants for someone that's available?!"

Geto’s eye twitches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to yell back at you. But instead, he takes a step back, running a hand through his messy hair and forces himself to stay calm.

“Look,” he says, “I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever happened between me and... whoever, it’s not my fault your show is falling apart.”

You let out a bitter laugh, looking away and shaking your head. “Cecilia. And of course, it’s not your fault. It’s never the other person's fault, right? You just waltz into people’s lives, do whatever the hell you want, and leave them and others to deal with the mess.”

Geto’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he stares down at you. “I didn’t ask that girl to be unfaithful, I didn't even know she was, and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be dragged into this drama. So why don’t you stop blaming me for your problems?”

“oh, my bad, you’re right. You didn’t ask for this so that just means all of the problems you had a hand in just fall away." You take a step closer, teetering the edge of calm and blowing a fuse, " I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but your actions have consequences you know. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of the reason why things went south. Why I don't have my lead anymore. You could at least try to be an adult about it by taking some responsibility instead of just acting innocent.” Your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket, and you see it's Mai texting you, but you quickly turn it off.

You don't see his expression soften slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he considers your words. “And you really think being in your play is going to make up for it?”

Your ears perk when you hear the opportunity in his voice and you look back at him, noticing how he seems to be considering you, “It’s a start,” you plead, “I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got. I’ve worked so hard on this, and I’m not ready to give it all up when I'm so close to the end."

You watch his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he turns his head to look away from you and instead at the empty seats in the lecture hall. Long lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks every time he blinks. You hate the fact that you think about how unfairly attractive he is in the moment. After a long pause, he finally looks back at you, his expression unreadable.

“Fine,” he says quietly and your eyes widen. “I’ll audition. But that’s all I’m promising. If I don’t like it, I’m out.”

You can't control how shocked you look when he acquiesces. Honestly, you didn't expect anything out of this after calling him out the way you did and just started running your mouth to let off some steam, but maybe he really did feel bad. “s-seriously? Oh my god, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he warns, the seriousness in his tone cutting through your relief. “Like I said, this doesn’t mean I’m committed. I’ll give it a shot, but if I’m not into it, that’s it.”

“I understand,” you say, quickly nodding. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Geto takes a step back, leaning on the edge of the lecturers table with one palm holding his wrist. “So when should I come in to audition?”

"Uh-... " Your mind runs blank, you hadn't expected to come this far. You scramble for your phone to check the schedule you’d painstakingly put together, but not a single slot was available. "How's tomorrow afternoon?" You look at him.

Geto raises an eyebrow. “Afternoon works. What time are we talking?”

You tap on your phone screen with your painted nail, trying to appear confident despite the nerves. “How about 4pm?”

“Sounds good," he tilts his head and his eyes get smaller like he's plotting something. "but only if you agree to one condition.”

"condition?”

"yes," a witty smile plays on his lips. “I want an iced coffee,"  His shoulders raise as he shrugs. "It's the least you could do after nearly tarnishing my name out there."

You blink, momentarily taken aback by such an innocent request. “uh, yeah sure. I can do that. Is that all?"

He gives you a pointed look before he walks over to you. You feel yourself straighten by the approach. "You make it sound like that's an easy condition, but I'm a very hard man to satisfy." He stops in front of you, and you have to crane your neck to keep eye-contact. "But for now, yes." his eyes flicker between yours and the faint smell of cologne consumes you. "That's all."

You get a bit overwhelmed by his unwavering eyes so you look away into your tote bag. You swear he becomes just a little bit smug by it. "And, um, here’s the script." You pull out your personal script since it was the only one you had on hand. When Geto looks at the worn-out, slightly crumpled script covered in handwritten notes, annotations, and sticky tabs, his gaze softens, and he takes it tentatively from you.

“I know it looks like a mess, but it’s got all the notes and directions you’ll need. Just ignore the scribbles if they get in your way—most of it is just me trying to make sense of everything.” You adjust your bag strap sheepishly while Geto cards through the pages with his thumb. 

"You're really passionate about this." He glances at you and you're not even paying attention to him anymore. Your eyes are trained on the script in his hands like it was your holy bible and it might as well have been.

"Hm, I've been working on it since the start of the semester. I'm hoping to get picked up with this bad boy." You look back at him, and you're suddenly giving off a much softer vibe. He thought how strange it was that you saw no issue in handing over probably your most prized possession to a complete stranger. He sighs and then tucks the script to his side. "I’ll see you at the audition, then.”

You smile back at him. "hm, see you then. And thank again. Really."

he hums and walks past you to the door, brushing his arm against yours where you could feel the cold fabric touch your skin, the tension in your chest finally starts to ease. Just as he reaches the exit, he pauses and glances back at you.

“And for the record,” he adds, his voice carrying easily across the empty room, “you’ve got guts. Not many people would call me out like that.”

With that, he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You stand there for a moment, still processing everything that just happened. Your heart is still racing, but it’s no longer from anger or frustration. It’s from a strange, tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things might work out after all. When you leave the class you're surprised to see Mai just a meter away, gnawing at her nails with the most horrified expression on her face. When she sees you she doesn't waste time to grab your arm and drag you out of the campus building. "I told you to convince him to audition, not fucking call him out, you idiot!"

You laugh at her, holding her hand that's on your forearm. "Do I have some good news for you."

✧You're all caught up!

[myfictionaldreams]

Family // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.

Requested by: @bullets-from-another-dimension Thank you so much for the request and for showing me that Sirius needs a little more love! I hope you like this fic, and thanks for your support with the poly!marauders ♥

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff (also lots!), emotional hurt, discussion of Sirius' abusive family, disowned, crying, hugs/kissing, polyamory relationship, nipple play, body worship, making out, oral sex (m receiving), happy ending

A/N: This is just a little PSA that I'll be going through my other Poly!Marauders fics sometime soon to change some bits to make sure that each of the boys is getting enough love! It won't be anything major for the overall story, just spreading the love equally as it appears Sirius may have been skipped a few times (and I don't want that!), so check for an 'edited' note on the story. Thank you for pointing this out to me!

Words: 4.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The last 24 hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, with both positives and negatives coming to light. It had started with the ultimate showdown game of Quidditch between Slytherin and Gryffindor; with both Sirius and James on the team. You and Remus had been nervous wrecks just for the game, let alone all the tension drowning within the two enemy houses. This escalated outside of the pitch, with wands having to remain in hands between lessons to prepare for sabotage attacks from either team.

It was endlessly tiring the days leading up to the events, and it was some kind of a miracle to be standing in the Gryffindors' stands without a single injury. Now, however, you and Remus had to live through the fear of watching your boyfriends fly around with their roles as Seeker and Beater.

You were sure you’d accidentally bitten your nail down to the cuticle by the end of the match, and your throat felt as if you’d swallowed sandpaper with how sore it was with the screaming and shouting you’d been doing in support. There was instant relief as James finally caught the snitch, and everyone cheered.

“Do you think he’ll be ok?” you shout up to Remus, who, with his height difference, could see over the crowd to where the commotion was occurring on the pitch. As James had dived for the snitch, so had the Slytherin’s seeker, who just happened to be Sirius’ brother, Regulus. However, in mid-dive, Regulus accidentally knocked into one of the goalposts, hitting his head and falling from his broom. Thankfully to the Slytherins, Sirius had been close by and caught his falling brother from gaining any further injuries.

Remus was nodding to your question, “Yes, he’s walking away, well - he’s pushing Sirius away, so I’m sure he’s just fine”, he explained, watching Regulus shove Sirius, so the man stumbled away. A pang of guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the thought of the brothers arguing. You knew that the relationship between Sirius and his brother was non-existent these days, and it only made you feel more awful for your boyfriend, understanding how difficult it must have been to lose his family in the way he has.

You couldn’t ponder on these thoughts as the entirety of Gryffindor and the vast majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began celebrating the win. This included Sirius, who scooped you into an exaggerated hug, spun you high into the air, and carefully placed your feet back onto the floor.

“Was your brother alright?” You shout to Sirius over the noisy crowd forming around the winning team. For a split second, you witness sadness filling his grey eyes before he snaps out of it and a beaming smile replacing the momentary lapse in his emotions.

“Oh, he’s fine; I’m sure a quick knock to the head will bring some sense to him. Anyway, come on, let’s all go back to the common room; I have a special surprise for everyone”. Sirius was great at many things, and covering his emotions was one of them. Any attempts to open up about the situation regarding his family would change the subject within the blink of an eye. You respected that he didn’t want to talk about any of his family members, but you still kept a close eye on him, making sure that he didn’t pent up his emotions until he was at breaking point, which you feared would occur one day as there was only so much one person could go through.

The interaction with Regulus seemed to have been forgotten in the madness of celebrating, which ran into the early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room. It would have continued later, but Professor McGonagall arrived in her dressing gown and demanded everyone go to bed. Sirius needed the most help to bed, having drunk the ‘surprise’ fire whiskey he regretted deeply in the morning.

“I’m never drinking again. Who’s idea was it anyway to bring Firewhiskey?!” came the deep groan of the man lying face first beside you, his face thoroughly buried into the pillow. Your temples were pounding slightly; you’d felt worse hangovers, but it was still uncomfortable as you rolled over towards Sirius.

Your arm wrapped over his naked back, face pressed over his shoulder blade as you could feel the toned muscles adjusting to your presence as you melted into his warmth. “It was your idea. I’m never falling for your charms ever again, Sirius”, you mumbled against his skin, reminiscing on his sweet talking skills from last night that convinced you to have a drinking competition with him.

This pulled him out of the half-unconscious state as his mop of hair turned in your direction. The movement caused you to roll off him and witness the beautiful sight of his morning glow; even in his hangover, he was handsome with one eye squished closed as the room was too bright.

Sirius turned his body entirely towards you, huffing as he moved, and you refrained from trying to reach out and control the usually silky locks of hair that were now all knotted and tangled on the top of his head. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure my charms made you cum three times before the fire whiskey joined the party,” he commented confidently and admired the warmth that filled your face. You attempted to hide your smile at the memories but were soon fully scream-laughing as Sirius tried to break your facade by tickling your sides.

Pushing him away, you turned and nuzzled into the naked chest of James, who remained asleep even through your loud laughter, but his arms still wrapped around your shoulders protectively. Besides James, you could see Remus was awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Remusssss, Sirius is being mean to me”, you drawl childishly.

The man sighed, dropping his hands to give you and Sirius a pointed look, “Please, children, it’s too early, and my head is too painful for you to make this much noise”.

Sirius smirked as he spooned in close behind you, wrapping his arm around you and James as everyone tried to have a few more moments of beautiful sleep before breakfast, and class pulled the four of you from the safety of the bed.

The food helped to settle the hangovers that the majority of Gryffindor seemed to be nursing this morning, much to the displeasure of McGonagall, who was glaring at her house from the Professor’s table. Sitting beside James, you leaned across him for another slice of toast as Sirius sat opposite you with Remus next to him.

As everyone started to be rejuvenated with energy from the breakfast, the owls began to swoop in and deliver the mail for the day. An emerald-coloured envelope landed on Sirius's lap, which caught the attention of you and the fellow Marauders. You already had your suspicions about who the letter was from. Sirius mostly confirmed it, as he had hardly read the letter before shoving it into his bag and brushing off any attempts at discussing who it was from.

“It’s nothing, just some spam letter. So, who do we have first today? Is it transfiguration? I can’t imagine that will be fun with how angry McGonagall looks right now.” Sirius changed the subject, but it didn’t convince any of you as you eyed him sadly. He didn’t wait for a response as he stood, gripping his bag so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late”.

You knew something was off just by the quipped tone of his voice, and the humour and light that always seemed to dance in his eyes had been significantly dimmed. Even as James tried to humour him with his usual party tricks and jokes, it only earned him a half-assed chuckle from Sirius. Remus even attempted to pull him aside before entering the classroom to see if he needed a moment alone to talk, but Sirius just distracted him with a quick kiss and said he was fine.

You were quick to sit next to Sirius near the back of the classroom, smiling brightly with the hopes that he would return it, but it seemed he was lost in his thoughts as he idly arranged his parchment paper and quills. Thankfully, as the class began, his hand rested on your thigh so you could link both fingers together, lifting it and kissing the back of his hand.

As McGonagall began to teach the class, you leaned closer to Sirius, savouring the warmth that radiated off him and smelling the citrusy scent from his aftershave. “Is everyone ok, Sirius?” Your voice was barely audible so as not to disrupt the class, but you knew he heard as his posture stiffened, and he nodded his head, fake smiling for a second before returning his attention to the teacher. “I know there’s something wrong. Talking might help; I mean - I want to help-”

“Excuse me at the back. Is there something more important than my lesson?” McGonagall demanded with a passive-aggressive raised eyebrow as all other eyes turned to look at you and Sirius.

As your mouth opened to take the blame, your boyfriend beat you to it, “Sorry, Professor. That was my fault I was distracting her”.

“You’re already on thin ice after last night's antics, Mr Black. See me after class to arrange a detention”.

Your mouth drops open to retort to her and tell him it wasn’t Sirius, but the hand holding yours squeezes, stopping you from saying anything. As McGonagall turns back to write on the chalkboard, you lean close to harshly whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sirius! That should have been my detention!”

“It’s only one detention, I don’t care”, he shrugs nonchalantly, releasing your hand to begin writing his notes. You frown so deeply that a line forms between your eyebrows as you glance towards Remus and James, who have similar expressions of worry, especially as Sirius hasn’t even attempted to have any sort of friendly banter with McGonagall like he usually did.

At lunch, Sirius had somehow managed to slip away from the group, and your head seemed to be fixated towards the entrance to the Great Hall, neck straining to see over the other students as you waited for him to walk in.

“I mean, it’s not just me, right? There’s definitely something wrong with him”, you say before nervously nibbling on your lower lip.

Remus’ hand cups your shoulder, gripping gently as he agrees, “It’s not just you. I tried to talk to him before the lesson, but he just pushed me away. He just wants to be by himself; I’m sure he’ll be just fine”.

You nod to yourself but don’t believe his words. Yes, Sirius was strong and had been putting on a strong appearance for years, but he never pushed himself away from the three of you. It was like an invisible angel on your shoulder, trying to nudge you towards him, knowing something wasn’t right.

“Have either of you got the Marauder's map?” you ask Remus and James, who then check their pockets and school bags but cannot find the map.

“Sorry, Love, he’s probably got it with him”, James reports, appearing as deflated as you felt.

Standing from the table, the anxious causing your stomach to clench with unease and unable to eat, you inform the two of them, “I’ll be back later; I just need to make sure he’s ok and safe”.

Remus and James nod in understanding and watch you go. As you stand in the entrance to the Great Hall, you’re unsure where to start and what's worse is that he could be in his Padfoot form, which means he’d be able to hear you coming and run away. There were the grounds to search, Hogsmeade, the entirety of the enormous castle; there were plenty of places for him to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to search the dormitory first, hoping the map had been left in a draw up there.

Opening the door to the dormitory room that you shared with your boyfriends, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius, lying face first on the shared bed, his head turned away from the doors but from the noticeable sniffling noises and his shoulders shaking, you knew he was crying. Your heart felt like someone had reached inside your chest and squeezed as the sight rocked you. Silently as you could, you slipped your shoes off and placed your school bag onto the floor.

You knew he was aware someone else was in the room as his cries softened, and he subtly tried to wipe his face into the pillow. As you began to crawl onto the bed, you could see he was spooning the pillow you usually used to sleep on, clutching it desperately close to his chest. You had to remember to breathe through your nose, remain strong, and not descend into your emotions.

Kneeling next to him, your hand gently met the centre of his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his white shirt, hoping the action would comfort him. “Sirius, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing's wrong” he tried to brush it off, but you could hear the thickness of his voice as he tried to hide his face further in the pillow beneath his head.

“Is it about the letter from earlier? Who sent it to you?” Even though you knew he didn’t really want to talk about it, you knew he’d also built a wall around his emotions and wanted him to feel like he was in a safe enough space to talk, like the many times he’d done the same for you. Reaching over with your other hand, you ran your fingers through the long strands of dark hair, brushing them out of his face that was still turned away from you. “Talk to me, my love, please. I want to help you”.

Reluctantly, Sirius turned over and began to pull you down to lie in the centre of the bed. You did so and spread your arms wide as he moved to lie on your chest, the top of his head resting beneath your chin as you hugged him closely.

“No one important sent me the letter, it’s fine. I just want to cuddle”, he admits with a sigh, relaxing into the hold, the pillow he’d been spooning now forgotten about as he had the real thing instead, finding comfort instantly. In this position, you could hold him close and do the same actions as before, stroking gently up and down his back whilst also playing with his hair.

You want to tell him that you knew who the letter was from, but he seemed content with being held instead for a couple of minutes until you felt dampness seeping across the column of your neck and down your chest as his shoulders began to shake once more.

“Sirius-?”

“It was from my parents. The letter, I mean. Fuck! I don’t know, it's so stupid.” he sits up abruptly, aggressively wiping away the leaked tears he’d been desperately trying to stop.

Sitting beside him, you rubbed his shoulders while trying to calm him down from his overwhelming emotions. “It’s not stupid, my love.” As you talk, you grip his twists to pull them away so he can look into your face and hopefully see the love there. “Your parents, they’re awful people, Sirius, and anyway, you’re perfectly within your right to show emotions every once in a while; I just need you to know that I’m here for you, we’re all here for you, no matter how you are feeling. It’ll be ok”.

Even though it was comforting for him to hear the words, it still seemed to break something within him. Like a crack had formed in the dam as he relented with his cries, openly sobbing into his hands. Whilst trying to swallow the lump that had developed in your throat, you pulled him close, kissing every part of him that you could reach whilst wiping away the cascading tears.

“You don’t have to tell me what was said in the letter, but I just need you to know that they’re not your real family; you know we’re all your family”. Sirius pulls back from the hug, and your bottom lip trembles at seeing how heartbroken he looks. The area around his eyes is swollen and red to match the shade at the tip of his nose as wetness covers the length of his cheeks.

His mouth opens to say something, but he’s interrupted by the door opening and James and Remus stepping into the bedroom. The two men pause, not expecting to find either you or Sirius here, but as they see the sadness and pain on Sirius’s face, they immediately drop their school bags.

“You missed it”, Sirius chuckled, trying to hide his upset behind humour, “She called me an emotional prick, and the waterworks started”. James and Remus gave him sad smiles, but neither fell for the attempt to change the subject as both sat either side of him on the bed. Remus reached for him first, stroking his scarred fingers through the strands of dark hair that had fallen over Sirius’ face, but only so he could kiss the area beneath. Sirius closed his eyes at the touch and leaned into it, releasing a deep sigh through his open mouth.

James grabbed each of his hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms lovingly and rest them on either side of his cheeks, nuzzling into his hands. “Whatever is going on, you know we’re always here for you, Sirius”, James mutters against the palms on his face.

Sirius sighs even heavier as if trying to will the anxiety away through the breaths. “It’s my parents. I mean, should I even call them parents when they’ve already disowned me? But they’ve just sent me more threats today after what happened with Regulus yesterday. They say things like I should have let him win and wish that I had been hurt.”

He takes a moment to compose himself as you grab one of his hands from James, needing to link your fingers together and squeeze to know that it is a safe place for him to continue and talk. Sirius looked into his lap as he spoke, “They’ve burnt my face off the Black family tree. Not that I care; I expected it, but it just all feels so real now, you know? I feel like I shouldn’t even be using the surname Black with how much they detest me. I also kind of expected Regulus to have my back a little bit, but he’s young; I can’t expect that from him, especially as I know what my parents are like, but he doesn’t even say hi to me in the corridors anymore. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little all over the place, and with the positivity yesterday, just to have my family metaphorically kick me to the curb again, I should have expected the joy wouldn’t last long”.

Sirius sounded empty and emotionless as he expressed how he was genuinely feeling, struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of the events that occurred with his family that continue to affect him.

“Fuck them”, James says with all the venom and confidence that he could muster. Sirius grunts half-heartedly at the declaration, not seemingly convinced, so James turns his face towards him so that he is looking into the stormy hazel eyes. “I’m being serious, fuck them. You’ve been my family for years now; you know my parents consider you their son as much as I am. Nothing has changed. You live with me and my parents because that is your home. Wherever any of us go is your home because we love you. We wouldn’t make you feel half as rotten as those scumbags, do you understand?”

Sirius nods, swallowing thickly, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Before he can respond, Remus once again holds onto his face, turning him in the other direction to look at the calmest Marauder. “Sirius, next time you receive a letter from them, don’t open it. They are cruel humans who have no love for anyone but themselves and the prejudices that they live by. You had so much joy and love in your heart; don’t let them destroy you and ruin everything you cherish. And that is exactly what James has said. You’re our family. We’re each other's family. You’re ours, just like you’re mine. Get it?”

Sirius’ eyes have dried as he looks up at Remus, and briefly, a genuine smile welcomes across his face as he leans in to kiss him deeply but then pulls back.

Squeezing his hand, you draw his attention towards you. “You deserve the surname Black more than anyone because it’s what makes you, you—breaking the stereotypes of those evil people and making it mean something that doesn't symbolise hatred. However, if you want to have another surname, you can! Sirius, you’re your own person, and your surname doesn’t define you. You could even make up a whole new name! Maybe you could have one of our surnames”, Sirius laughs at the possibility of a name change. “I love you so much. Your family's opinions of you aren’t how anyone else in the castle sees you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mr Black”.

You couldn’t wait any more time to kiss him, needing to feel his lips against yours and reassure him further with these intimate touches.  Thankfully, to your pounding heart, he smiles into the kiss.

“Maybe we could put all of our surnames together”, he jokes as you move to kiss each of his cheeks. 

“If that’s what you want, I’d do it”, you reassure him with a kiss on his temple.

“Almost sounds like a proposal”, he casually mentions, causing your heartbeat to increase rapidly. Sirius smirks at your face but reassures, “Maybe we’ll sort out surnames once we’ve finished our exams”. You press your lips against his once more for reassurance until he looks between the three of you. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you three. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before coming to Hogwarts, let alone feel love like this”.

Remus could see the tears pooling along Sirius’ lashline, so he gently cupped the side of his head, wiping away any that fell. “No more tears for them”. The gap between their lips was closed as Remus kissed him passionately, holding the back of his head carefully as they breathed each other in.

Sirius’ head dips slightly, but only to whisper against the man’s lips, “Can you make me forget? Please?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sirius”. Remus kisses him again but with more urgency, pushing his body back until Sirius is lying in the centre of the bed with the taller Marauder hovering above him. Their mouths moved together as one, tongues twirling together, heads tilting one way and then the other.

As Remus distracts and devours him with his mouth, Sirius’ hands move around the back of his head, holding him close, which gives James the freedom to move his hands to Sirius’ shirt. With a simple flick of his fingers, James could undo the buttons down the centre of his chest, releasing the toned chest and abdomen of the man whose legs you were sitting between.

You watched with the sadness seeping away and becoming replaced with arousal as James leaned over and licked the nipples of the man who moaned into Remus’ mouth. James was calculated with his movements, making sure to leave teasing licks and bites over the areas that Sirius was most sensitive whilst then worshipping the perked nipples on his chest, his hands caressing the areas where fine dark hair was beginning to grow back from being previous shaved, mainly the snail trail leading beneath his trousers.

Smiling whilst watching them all move together, you were gifted the view of watching the tightness forming in his trousers as his cock grew hard and thick. Without any rush and admiring the desperate moans coming from the man on his back, you began to stroke up his thighs, over his crotch and pausing over his zipper.

Undoing it slowly, you waited to see if Sirius was even aware of what you were doing as he was so distracted with James and  Remus. However, with the sudden lift of his hips to help you pull the material down his hips, you knew he was very much aware of your intentions.

Freeing his cock from the restraint of his trousers and boxers, you watched as Sirius lowered his hips back onto the bed, and his member now throbbed on his abdomen, thick and hard. A pearly drip of precum had already formed at the tip, and you were quick to hold the base, lifting the cock until your lips were wrapped around him.

Your movements continue to be gentle and soft. Licking and sucking without any rush to build the tension and hopefully show how much you worship the ground he walks on by paying particular attention to him when he needs it most. James continues to tweak his nipples, and Remus devours his mouth, absorbing every little moan until Sirius needs to pull back to suck in air.

“Fuck, you’re all- Fuck!” Remus distracts him with his mouth once more, dominating him entirely and causing more whimpers to burst from his chest. The veiny length that was being leisurely sucked in your mouth began to harden further, throbbing as you knew he was approaching closer to his orgasm as your hands fondled his balls.

“So good for us, aren’t you, Sirius? Say it, tell us you’re ours”, James demands, pulling on the back of Remus’ hair so that Sirius can tell the group how he is feeling.

“Yes! I’m yours, I’m all of yours! I’m cumming, holy shit!” he shouts out desperately, face scrunching up like he is in pain but is actually experiencing the opposite as overwhelming pleasure pooled in his abdomen.

You moan around his cock, causing it to vibrate slightly against your tongue as his hot seed begins to coat your throat. You swallow every salty, thick liquid drop until you’re popping off and looking up at his half-lidded, satisfied grin.

James and Remus give you room to crawl up his body to kiss him sweetly. The three of you watch and admire as he comes down from the high, carefully tucking his half-hard cock back into his trousers and doing up the zipper once more.

“Thank Merlin that we have no classes this afternoon”, Sirius jokes as he rests back on the pillows with his arm behind his head. You laugh and collapse onto his chest, hugging him closely as the four of you sit in comfortable silence. You listened to the thump of his heart beneath your ear, but after a while, it increased in speed as he became restless.

“Can I tell you all a secret? I’ve um… I’ve kept all of the threatening letters they’ve sent to me, " Sirius admits as he carefully pulls out of the hug to climb out of bed and dig his way through the suitcase with his name on the side. From within, he pulls out a large stack of letters that are all opened and in the same shade of emerald as the one earlier this morning.

“You kept them all? Oh, Sirius”, you say in shock, only guessing what horrible, hateful words are written on those pieces of paper.

Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “Yeah. I don’t know why. Some weird part of me thought that if I burned them all, they would know and come to the school or something. But, I want to get rid of them if you’ll all help me?”

Neither of you have to answer as you climb out of the bed. After dressing appropriately, the four of you walked down to the lake, where Remus carved a hole into the soil. Sirius chucks the letters within as you all form a semi-circle.

Holding onto his left hand, Sirius raised his wand to the right, pointing it towards the letters and shouting ‘Incendio’. The four of you stand together as the letters burn. Sirius sighs shakily as he holds back tears. “It’s weird. I know people say it’s like a weight off your shoulders, but it genuinely does feel like that”.

“That’s because you’re free, Padfoot!” James shouts enthusiastically, grabbing the boy around the waist and lifting him into the air, hollering and whooping until Sirius laughs. The two crash to the ground as Remus throws his arm around your shoulders, watching the pair finally have some fun today as the smoke billows into the air surrounding you, the ash from those horrible words written on the paper disappearing across the Scottish mountains.

[mariclerc]

Cute boy next door | cl16

Summary: your little one can't sleep at night thanks to the noise from your loud neighbor.

Warning: latina!hispanic reader, streamer charles (i miss him A LOT) and fluff.

Part 2

A hallway with sleek, modern doors lining either side, the soft glow of moonlight filters through the window at the end. You stand outside one of the doors, biting your lip nervously... You hold a three-year old little girl named Lola in your arms; Lola is rubbing her eyes sleepily while she holds a stuffed animal in her little hands.

“Okay, y/n... you can do this! It's just a noise complaint and Lola needs to sleep.” you whisper to yourself.

You raise a fist to knock on the door, for a moment you doubt it, but you do it anyway.

The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He has a pair of glasses on and a bandana tied loosely around his forehead, he looks a little bit surprised.

“Uh... hi? Can I help you?” he asks softly.

You swallow a little bit. “Um, hola... hi... Excuse me for bothering you... I live next door, and, well...” You look down at Lola in your arms, who whimpers softly. “I don't know if you were playing loud music or something earlier? But, my little girl Lola can't sleep.” you say softly.

Charles's eyes widen in realization, he blushes slightly and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I was just... streaming while playing on the simulator a bit... I didn't realize it would be so loud.” He says with sorrow in his voice.

“It's alright, don't worry too much about it.” you say shyly. “This is all new to us, we just moved here from Miami a few months ago.”

He opened his eyes in surprise and smiled.

“From Miami? Wow, that's a big change! I bet it's quite an adjustment.” He says. “Are you hispanic?” he asked softly and you nod proudly of your roots.

“Si señor, now you have two latina friends on the other side of your wall.” you say giggling. “And yes... It is quite the adjustment, especially for Lola, since she misses her abuelos terribly.” (yes sir) (grandparents)

Charles smiles warmly at the both of you, he looks so friendly and there's a pretty familiar and warm vibe about him, but you can't quite figure it out yet.

“Well, I'm Charles, by the way. Welcome to the building! It's nice to meet you both.” He says and you smile warmly.

“Nice to meet you, Charles.” you say shyly and you quickly look away. “Well, I don't want to interrupt your night of fun but it was a pleasure and thanks again.”

He smiles genuinely. “It's no problem at all, and if Lola wakes up again, don't hesitate to knock on my door... Maybe we can have coffee sometime?” He asked, there is a slight blush on his cheeks and you nod and blushed a little too.

“Coffee sounds lovely. Thank you for the offer, but, we wouldn't want to intrude though...” you were saying but he gently interrupted you.

“Not at all! Trust me, a little company is a welcome change from the roar of a Formula One engine... Besides, maybe you can teach me some Spanish, my language skills are a bit rusty.” he says quite blushing.

You blush at his words, is that a slight flirtation or is it just your head making things up? Be that as it may, you smile tenderly at him.

“That sounds good, i'm sure Lola and I would be happy to help! Alright, Charles, we'll take you up on that coffee offer then.” you say and he smiles shyly.

Charles beams. “Great! Just let me know when... Here's my phone, you can write your number there!” He says, extending his hand to give you his cell phone and you do the same.

You write your number and schedule yourself as: "y/n the latina neighbor 🤍" He writes down his number on your cell phone and books himself as: "Charlie the nice neighbor ❤️" you smile tenderly when you see the red heart next to it.

“Well, I should go to my apartment... Good night Charles and thank you again... For understanding.” You say sweetly and he smiles, showing off his dimples. "dios que lindo luce con sus hoyuelos" you think while looking at him. (God how cute he looks with his dimples)

He smiles widely. “It's no big deal y/n! Have a good night you two, sweet dreams.” he says softly and smiles.

You smile back and walk into your apartment, feeling something strange and cozy in your chest. You place Lola on her bed and give her a little kiss on her forehead, meanwhile, your head won't stop thinking about the cute, handsome neighbor next door and you're sure that his shy smile will probably stay stuck in your head for days and weeks.

***

“Si mami Lola y yo estamos bien” You say while talking on the phone with your mom. “Y no, todavía no he ido a tomar café con el lindo vecino, mamá por dios! Que preguntas.” You say a little excited, Lola giggles at your reaction. (yes mommy Lola and I are fine) (and no, I still haven't gone to have coffee with the cute neighbor, mom for God's sake! What do you ask)

You were talking to your mom on the phone, what you told your mom was a "little white lie", since you were finishing getting ready to go to your coffee and dessert date with Charles and Lola, who was already dressed and looked like a cute little princess. You and Charles had been talking for several weeks by text and so on, he even sometimes stopped by your apartment before going to his, Lola likes his company, it's very fun for you to see the two of them interact. While you finish putting some of Lola's things in your bag, the door rings.

“Mami te llamo luego, sí? Te quiero mucho, bendición!” You say hanging up the call as you walk to the door. (Mommy, I'll call you later, okay? I love you so much, blessing!)

When you open the door you find a smiling Charles holding a bouquet of lilies, he was wearing his glasses and was dressed very casually but a little elegant at the same time, Lola came up behind you and smiled when she saw Charles.

“Hello there, señoritas! Ready for our afternoon of coffee and good desserts?” He says and you smile when you hear him speak Spanish, even if it's just a little bit. “These are for you y/n! I hope you like them, I think they are pretty just like you.” He says in a whisper and you blush when you hear his words. (ladies)

You take the bouquet of lilies from his hands and smile at his cute but meaningful gesture.

“Hello Charlie! Aww, you didn't have to do it.” You say as you place the bouquet in a vase, Lola looks at the bouquet curiously. “Mira mi amor, son unas flores muy lindas, no lo crees?” you say softly to Lola and she smiles. (Look my love, they are very pretty flowers, don't you think?)

“Flores! Dindas!” Lola says happy (flowers! cute!)

Charles smiles as he sees you two speaking in Spanish, a warm and cozy feeling is present in his chest.

“I guess you both liked the flowers!” He says smiling and with his cheeks red. “So let's go? Those desserts await us!” He says quite enthusiastically and Lola giggles, you close the door to your apartment and walk with them down the hallway.

He linked his arm with yours and you carried Lola with your other arm, to be honest, it looked like an image straight out of a movie, but that made you happy.

***

The three of you sat at a table a little far away from the crowd, but it had a nice view. You ordered an espresso and a pain au chocolat, you also ordered the same thing for Lola, only instead of the espresso you ordered her a strawberry milkshake in children's size. And Charles ordered a cappuccino with a small strawberry pie.

Charles's company was quite nice and comfortable, it was as if there had always been a place for him in yours and Lola's life and also a place for the two of you in his.

He looks at Lola while she drinks her milkshake and smiles. “Lola looks so pretty and cute!” He says as he strokes Lola's hair and she smiles. “You know? From what little I have seen I can say that you are a really good mom.” He says in a whisper and you smile slightly.

You look at him, finishing your pain au chocolat and feeding Lola with hers. “Thank you... Sometimes it's hard, especially when it's just the two of us, this thing about being a mother and father at the same time is... Complicated, but satisfying in a way.” You say as you let out a light sigh.

“I wouldn't want to bother you with this, but... Why did you move here? You two alone, venturing to the other side of the world.” He asks softly, he doesn't want to invade your privacy or bother you.

You nod shyly. “Well... It was something complicated for both of us back in Miami, but I think it has been worth it so far.” you say while you look at Lola and you look back at him. “You see, her "dad" didn't want kids and his most logical solution was to leave me after four years together, to be honest my father almost killed him...” You say and let out a small chuckle. “I had an apartment and I lived there while I was pregnant, after having Lola my ex wanted to come back and threatened me multiple times, which is not very nice as a first-time mother.” You sighed. “When Lola was 6 months old I decided to return to my parents' house.” you say looking at your little girl. “Ese desgraciado maldito.” You mumbled in spanish. “We decided to move here because I got a good job offer as a freelancer in a good business here... and to escape from my ex's harassment, to be honest.” you giggled shyly. (that damned bastard)

He looked at you in shock, he never thought someone could do something like that. “Oh, I'm so sorry that happened to you.” he said softly. “But you two are so amazing and cool! And, well, it's his loss at the end of the day.” He says and you smile a little.

“You couldn't have said it better Charles.”

Lola smiles and stretches her little hands towards Charles's strawberry pie, he smiles as he sees her stretch out her little hands towards him.

“Fresas!” Lola says animated and happy. (strawberries!)

“Mi cielo pero si acabaste de comer tu pain au chocolat! Let Charlie eat his pie, okay?” You say a little blushing at the almost embarrassing moment that Lola puts you through. (My dear but you just ate your pain au chocolat)

Charles giggled at Lola's antics and your words. “You know, it's okay! I have no problem giving you guys some of the pie... At the end of the day, it is to share with you!” he smiles and blushed.

Then he cut a little of the pie into three equal pieces for the three of you, you just smile at his cute gesture towards the two of you, Lola smiles and takes her spoon to start eating the piece of pie, she looks very happy while eating the delicious dessert, you took a spoonful and the sweet and fresh taste of the strawberries invaded your mouth, you closed your eyes happily, savoring the pie. Charles smiled when he saw your reaction, he thought it was super cute and sweet.

Between the two of you you've shared a few glances while talking about totally mundane and simple things, even though he may have all the money in the world for you he's a pretty down to earth guy and you appreciate that.

***

After having gone to a small park where Lola played a lot on slides and trampolines, the three of you went back to the building with satisfied and somewhat tired smiles on your faces.

“Come here my honey, let me carry you, okay?” You tell Lola as you try to pick her up, but she refuses. “Oh, don't you want me to carry you inside?” you ask her softly.

She looked at the green-eyed boy who was standing next to you with a smile on his face. “Chaaa! 'ould you carry me? Pweasee...” she said and Charles looked at you as if asking your permission to do so, you just nodded at him.

“Can I?” he asked shyly and you nod again.

“Yup, you can carry her inside. I don't have a problem with that.” you said timidly and he approached you to bend down and take Lola in his arms and walk into the building.

For you it was a super cute image, it was as if it had happened before, as if all the pieces fit together, as if he were the missing piece of the puzzle. You smiled as you walked a few steps behind them, you had a strange feeling in your chest, a feeling of belonging, something you hadn't felt in recent months and in the last three years, Lola looked quite comfortable in the green-eyed man's arms while they talked about... You don't know, maybe they talk about superheroes or princesses? You have no idea, but the smile on your girl's face is inexplicable.

When you reach your apartment floor he lowers Lola to the ground, but she didn't want to get out of his arms.

“Noooo, I don't wanna go in!” Lola says, hiding her face on his shoulder.

You unlock the door, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe she wants a piggyback ride all the way in?” You say, letting out a small giggle and he blushes.

Charles turns, a playful glint in his eyes. “Is that true, little princess? Well, hold on tight, we have an adventure.” he whispers softly at Lola and she had a bright smile.

He ducks through the doorway, carrying a giggling Lola into your apartment. You follow, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and Charles carefully navigates the small hallway, Lola clinging to his back like a happy koala, you can't help but laugh as you watch them.

“Alright, superhero princess, your chambers await!” you say towards Lola.

Lola throws her head back and lets out a peal of laughter. Charles reaches her bedroom door, a hint of shyness creeping into his smile. “Is this the secret superhero lair?”

Lola nods vigorously. “Yes! But, shh, it's a secret, 'kay?”

You smile at your little girl. “Our little secret, superhero. Now, how about we get you out of your superhero suit? Bed time awaits.”

You reach out and gently take Lola's hand, ready to help her down. But Lola hesitates, her eyes flickering between you and Charles.

“Can Charl tuck me in tonight, Mommy?” she asked softly.

The unexpected request catches you off guard. A warmth spreads through your chest, a surprising mix of shyness and something deeper. You glance at Charles, his gaze warm and understanding.

“Would you like that, y/n?” You meet his eyes, a silent question hanging in the air. Would it be okay? Would it be crossing a line? Charles seems to sense your hesitation. “Of course, it's entirely up to you... Just thought maybe it would be nice for Lola to have a superhero story for bedtime.” he smiles reassuringly.

You look back at Lola, her eyes pleading with a hope you can't deny. Maybe, you think, just this once.

“Alright, superhero. But only because you saved the day from tantrums.” you say while smiling softly.

Lola's face breaks into a wide grin. “Yay! Thank you, Charl! Thank you, Mami!”

You help Charles lower Lola to the floor, watching as he scoops her up again into a hug. A comfortable silence settles between you as he walks towards the room, the warmth of his presence lingering in the air.

***

Charles stands by the bed, holding a squirming Lola as you pull out a pair of fluffy pajamas decorated with stars. You manage to wrestle her arms into the sleeves, Charles chuckling as Lola tries to escape.

“Alright, superhero princess, time to transform back into your regular self!” you say smiling.

Lola lets out a dramatic sigh, then allows herself to be pulled into the soft fabric. Charles gently helps with the buttons, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. A spark of electricity shoots up your arm, making you blush.

“There you go, little superhero. All ready for your mission to dreamland!” he smiled gently at Lola.

Lola snuggles into the bed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But before I go, I need story! About a princess! Superhero!” she giggles softly.

You exchange a glance with Charles. “Well, how about we make one up together? Let's see, uhm... Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a brave princess named...” you chuckled.

You pause, looking at Charles for inspiration. He shrugs playfully. “Hmmm... Princess Lola! The bravest, strongest princess in the whole kingdom... But even princesses have problems sometimes, right Lola?”

Lola nods vigorously, sucking her thumb thoughtfully.

“One day, a terrible monster called Bedtime snuck into the kingdom! It made everyone feel sleepy and grumpy, and wouldn't let them have any fun!”

Lola gasps, her eyes wide. You continue, weaving a tale of Princess Lola's bravery as she confronts the monster Bedtime. Charles adds details, giving the monster a ticklish weakness and Princess Lola a magical cape that grants her super snuggles.

As the story unfolds, the tension in the room gradually melts away. Warm light bathes the room from a bedside lamp, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Lola's eyelids begin to droop, her thumb slipping out of her mouth.

With a flourish, you reach the climax. Princess Lola defeats the monster Bedtime with a flurry of super snuggles, restoring peace and good sleep to the kingdom.

“And so, Princess Lola learned that even the bravest heroes need their rest. Sweet dreams, little one.” he whispered softly.

Lola yawns, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“Thank you, superhero... Charl... Night night mama!” she mumbles drowsily.

“Buenas noches mi niña... Have sweet dreams! I love you so much!” You whisper and give her a kiss on her forehead. (good night my girl)

Her eyes flutter shut, and her breathing slows to a gentle rhythm. You and Charles exchange a tired smile.

“Looks like our superhero princess is out for the night.” you whispered at him.

Charles nods, his gaze lingering on Lola's peaceful face. A comfortable silence settles between you, filled with a sense of shared accomplishment.

The silence stretches after Lola drifts off to sleep, a comfortable quiet that feels different from the usual solitude of evenings. Lola's soft breaths filled the space, a gentle counterpoint to the sudden tension between you and Charles. His gaze flickers from your daughter's sleeping form to your face, his eyes holding a warmth that sends shivers down your spine, a newfound appreciation for this unexpected moment.

There's a beat of silence, thick with unspoken emotions. You clear your throat, about to suggest to head out of her room, when Charles speaks, his voice barely a whisper.

“She's incredible, isn't she?”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “She really is...” you say softly.

He takes a step closer, his presence filling the space beside you. You can smell his cologne, a now familiar scent that makes your heart beat faster.

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this... For letting me be a part of both of your lives this few weeks.”

His words hang in the air, a silent confession of his growing feelings. You meet his gaze, your own filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper.

“Thank you for being here, Charles.” you say with your voice barely above a whisper.

The distance between you shrinks further. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. His touch sends a jolt through you, a rush of electricity that makes your breath catch.

Charles leans in slowly, his eyes searching yours, you don't pull away... Instead, you find yourself leaning in too, drawn to him by a force you can't explain.

The kiss is soft, a gentle exploration at first. His lips are warm and tender, sending shivers down your spine. It's a kiss filled with unspoken emotions: gratitude, affection, and, you might say, a little hint of something more.

You pull back slightly, your cheeks flushed. Charles's eyes hold a question, a silent plea for permission. You hesitate for a moment, then a small smile graces your lips.

“Maybe she doesn't need to be the only one with a superhero story tonight...” you whisper as a shy smile graces your face.

The air crackles with unspoken possibilities. Charles's smile widens, his eyes shining with a newfound joy. He leans back in, and the kiss deepens a little bit, filled with a passion you haven't felt in a long long time. You smile halfway through the kiss and in a rather cliché way, you feel content and happy with everything that is happening in your life since perhaps this was what you needed. A breath of fresh air in your life and in Lola's.

[outlaw-apologist]

Memory of You {Chapter 1} Sabertooth x Reader

Enemies to LoversFem reader Summary: Mind games come with a price. You're a mutant with the ability to influence plants and animals. Victor Creed is about to find out the hard way, that the beast inside of him, is included. Contains: Graphic violence, dark themes. 'I can fix him' trope. A/N: Sometimes I just wanna break a big sexy beast man. I can't help myself. Belle is much kinder than I. I rather tame the monster another way. This is purely indulgent and may eventually contain smut. :3 ~~~~~

Memory of You {Chapter 1}

The forest is thick tonight, blanketed in towering pines that claw up toward the bruised twilight sky. Long shadows spill across the forest floor, eerie and motionless, as if even the wind’s afraid to disturb the silence. Everything feels too still, too quiet. No birds. No rustling leaves. Just the muffled thud of your heart, keeping time in the oppressive hush. It was jarring. When a place that would usually bring you peace instead offered a sense of danger.

You take a slow breath, grounding yourself in the cool pine-scented air. But it doesn’t last. In the space of a heartbeat, everything changes. A heavy rustle snaps through the silence, and suddenly, Sabretooth crashes down on you, his ambush as swift as it is brutal. A surprised cry escapes Scott’s lips somewhere behind you, muffled in the violent rush of adrenaline that explodes through you as you hit the ground hard. His claws pin you in place, digging into your skin, close enough to your throat that you feel the electric threat of each razor-sharp point. He’s grinning, leering down with amber eyes that gleam like a predator savoring the thrill of the kill.

You swallow against the fear clawing at your ribs, telling you this is it—that there’s no escape. But you refuse to give him that satisfaction. Biting back the panic, you reach out to the trees, the roots hidden below, the branches above, pleading for anything to hold him back. They respond, creeping toward him in a brittle crackling of bark and twigs—but he’s too fast. With a brutal growl, he smashes down harder, his body a weight of iron pressing you into the cold earth.

An energized blade of red cuts across the dark of night, lighting up the surrounding bushes and trees. Scott’s optic beam hits Sabretooth hard enough to send him reeling back, claws loosening their grip on you. Gasping, you roll away and struggle to your feet, watching as Scott squares himself, sending another blast in Sabretooth’s direction. It lands, but barely fazes him. Sabretooth just laughs, brushing off the attack like it was nothing.

That primal gaze slides back to you, his eyes dark with amusement and blood lust. He raises a dirty claw to his lips, licking the blood from its edge. Your blood. Something sick churns in your stomach, but you refuse to look away, even as he smirks. “You taste delicious, sweetheart.” He drawls, voice as low and rough as gravel. He’s toying with you. Enjoying every second of it. Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to run. To get away before it’s too late. The hair on your arms standing on edge as adrenaline pumped through you so hard you couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat. And yet you stand your ground, forcing yourself to meet his eyes, voice barely a whisper. “Fuck off.”

The tiger’s laugh is sharp, scraping against your nerves like broken glass. You reach out again, feeling for anything in the forest—anything that might answer your call for help. You sense a family of foxes hidden at the edge of the clearing, their small minds vibrating with awareness of the threat lurking in their woods. You send them a plea, a wordless call for aid. They chirrup nervously, their cries piercing the silence, as if asking you ‘what could we even do?’. They were right, you realized. Before you was a predator so great, no fox could out wit it. So what does that mean for you?

“Run!” Scott’s voice breaks through your helpless realization. “I’ll cover you!”

But you can’t bring yourself to move, like a deer in the headlights. You were too scared. Your body too heavy. Sabretooth’s gaze is fixed on you with a demented kind of fascination, his body coiled with anticipation. He’s not here to scare you; he’s here to finish you off. To carve his name into your soft skin. Scott’s shout rings in your ears, an urgent lifeline cutting through the chaos as he screams your name again. Something clicks this time and you take off running, feet pounding over uneven ground as you dart into the forest’s shadows. Branches whip against your face, sharp rocks slice into your palms when you stumble, but fear and adrenaline override the pain. You barely feel it, the rush of blood pumping so loud it drowns out everything but the heavy thud of Sabretooth’s footsteps closing in.

Every glance back only worsens the terror. Sabretooth is on your trail, relentless, his form nothing more than a hulking shadow in the dusk.. The forest animals scatter as if sensing what was to come. You reach out instinctively to the surrounding nature, but your powers are fading, your connection to the forest weakened by the exhaustion settling into your bones. Just as you push forward, a large hand clamps onto your shoulder, and in a violent tug, you’re yanked backward, hitting the ground so hard it forces every last bit of breath from your lungs.

Before you could register what happened, Sabertooth is on top of you, his claws biting into your shoulders with a brutal grip. You could feel the warmth of blood pool around the wounds. “Thought you’d slip away?” His voice is a low, guttural growl, and his claws slice down your side, igniting waves of pain that nearly drown you. You choke back a scream, your breath strangled, head spinning as his claws sink deeper, ripping through muscle and skin. Sabretooth leans close, his breath hot against your cheek, carrying the metallic tang of your own blood. “I love the noises you make,” he sneers, his voice a sickening purr.

Somewhere in the trees, Scott’s voice shouts your name, panic fraying his tone. He couldn’t keep up and he was fearing the worst. As he should… Sabretooth pays it no mind, his attention locked onto you. He raises his claws, poised to strike, when a searing red beam slashes across his shoulder, searing his fur. Sabretooth recoils, roaring in pain like a wounded lion, his grip loosening just enough for you to take a shallow, agonizing breath.

Scott’s shout breaks through the fog of pain. “Jean! Get to Jean!”

The words bring you back, anchoring you. There was no way for either of you to run back to his car, to get to a communicator. You weren’t a telepath but if you tried hard enough, desperate enough, you could probably reach her. Pushing past the white-hot pain, you reach for her mind with everything left in you, letting your mind stretch out as far as it can.

Jean… Your mental voice is weak, barely holding steady. Please… we need you. Sabretooth…

The connection falters, a wave of exhaustion and pain dragging you under, but you hold on, projecting all the desperation, all the fear you can muster. This is your only chance. If no one reaches you or Scott… Then you both will die. Sabretooth’s growl reverberates through the forest as he bears down on Scott, each swipe of his claws slicing the air where Scott was only moments before. Scott moves with fierce precision, dodging and retaliating with blast after blast, relying on years of training and excruciating experience. But Sabretooth barely flinches, his grin widening with each hit he absorbs. To him, this isn’t a battle; it’s entertainment, and you’re all the more helpless as you watch it unfold.

“Come on, Cyclopse! You can do better than that!” Sabretooth taunts, his voice laced with dark amusement as he inches closer, his claws gleaming in the fading ruby light. Scott’s jaw tightens as he fires again, the condensed energy scorching through the air, sending Sabertooth stumbling.

Please, Jean, hurry, you mentally plead, the desperation mingling with your fraying hope. Then, like a steady heartbeat, Jean’s presence returns, soothing yet firm. I’m here. Hang on—we’re almost there.

Relief rushes through you, but it’s quickly sullied by the realization that it may not be fast enough. Every second feels like an eternity, and your vision begins to blur with each breath as you bled out, your grip on consciousness slipping away. Sabretooth’s eyes shift toward you, sneering as he senses your weakening state. “Dying already? How pathetic,” he sneers, glancing back at Scott.

Scott shifts, stepping protectively in front of you, his fists clenched. “You’re not getting near her again,” he vows, voice low and edged with fury.

You press a shaky hand to your side, feeling the warm wetness of your blood seeping through your fingers. The forest around you darkens past the night, the world swallowed by shadows, each breath a struggle against the pain threatening to pull you into the abyss. Through the haze you watch as Scott remains a steady shield. Destermined to protect you, his long time friend. Scott fires off another optic blast, each strike forcing Sabretooth back steps at a time, but the strain is taking its toll, his movements slowing with exhaustion. For every inch Scott gains, Sabretooth’s strikes grow fiercer, his wild strength tearing away at Scott’s powers.

The stars above you began to spin until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Scott dodges another swing, barely avoiding the deadly swipe of Sabretooth’s claws. He holds his ground, firing another blast, but you can hear his breathing become ragged, his focus strained.

A deep chuckle bites through the clearing, cold and mocking. Sabretooth lunges again, faster this time, catching Scott off guard. With a brutal strike, he sends Scott crashing to the ground, his glasses knocked askew. Before Scott, with his eyes squeezed shut, could recover, Sabretooth lerched onto him, claws raised and gleaming in the moonlight as they came down upon Scott’s chest with a sickening skurrt.

You try to call out, but your voice is barely a whisper, lost in the cold hold that’s closing in. It was over, you thought. You were dying, Sabertooth was right. The earth around you muddied with dark crimson, coating you in a pool of liquid iron. The last thing you see is Scott, struggling against Sabretooth. Fighting for his life. The days after the attack drift by in a haze, punctuated only by the ebb and flow of pain and a gradual, agonizing recovery. At first, you’re only vaguely aware of your surroundings. A foggy blur of white lights, medicinal scents, and the hushed voices of the med bay. When you surface from the feverish darkness, it’s to Jean’s gentle reassurances or the grounding weight of a hand, steady and warm - Scott’s or Logan’s, though you’re rarely lucid enough to know which. That small touch anchors you, pulling you back from nightmares that leave your heart racing, lingering memories of claws and snarling teeth.

As the days go by, you start to piece yourself back together, physically at least. Slowly, achingly, your body begins to cooperate again, each day a tiny milestone. By the end of the week, you’re able to sit up, then shuffle a few steps on your own, feeling each ache left by the brutal attack. However, there was an unease that won’t leave you, even as the bruises fade. Haunted by big glowing pools of amber. His eyes.

The eyes of a wild cat, filled with malice, chase you through each restless dream, pulling you back to the memory of lying helpless beneath the hulking body of your opponent. The cruel gleam in them, like he was savoring your fear, is always there, lurking in the shadows of your unconscious mind. More than once, you awake at night with a start, heart pounding, the remnants of his sadistic grin burned into the back of your eyelids.

One morning as you make your way down the hall, Logan appears from around the corner, his gaze flicking to you with a mix of relief and something guarded. Without a word, he falls into step beside you, his silent presence a comforting weight as you walk together.

The nightmares... The feeling of being stalked… It’s all too much, and after days of carrying it alone, you finally break the silence. “Who is he, Logan?” You ask, your voice rough from disuse. “You know him, don’t you?” You’ve heard whispers from the others. Bits and pieces of Victor Creed.

For a moment, Logan’s steps falter, his jaw tensing as he keeps his gaze forward. Silence stretches between you before he finally sighs, casting a sidelong glance your way. “Yeah. I know him,” he says, his voice low, rougher than usual. “Knew him, more like.

He looks ahead, eyes distant, weighed down with something raw. “Name’s Victor Creed though he goes by Sabretooth. He’s…” Logan’s voice trails off, a grim line settling over his mouth. “He’s a mercenary, a killer… a monster. More than that, even.”

A chill settles over you, a cold dread sinking in. Colder than the blood that had chilled your skin that night. “More?” You whisper, trying to understand. There was a weight behind Logan’s words. Something you couldn’t read between the lines.

Logan simply grunted, his expression turning distant and angry. “We got history, him and me. Worked together once. Partners, sort of.” He pauses, and you see the dark weight of memory flash in his eyes. Partners… You could tell it was only a half-truth. “But Victor… he’s different. He doesn’t just kill; he enjoys it. Pain, fear… He gets off on it. He’s more beast than man.”

Logan’s words land like lead, heavy in your chest, but they bring clarity. You see now why Sabretooth had reveled in your fear, drinking it in the way he toyed with you and Scott, drawing out the terror. He was truly a monster, his cruelty twisted and intentional. And though he’s gone for now, his shadow still hangs over you, leaving you with a lingering chill seeping into your dreams.

Little did you know, that was only the beginning. ________ The battlefield is a storm of energy and chaos optic blasts and the clashing of adamantium against metal merge in a symphony of violence, harsh against the ears. Magneto had rocked up, demanding something – you weren’t quite sure – before all hell broke loose. You stay close to the edge, eyes burning as dust rose from multiple attacks happening at once. Scanning for threats, heart hammering, until the smoke clears just enough to reveal a familiar massive figure. Sabretooth.

He prowls through the destruction like a predator unleashed, his piercing yellow gaze sweeping the scene until they lock onto Logan. A twisted smile curls across his face as he watches Logan wrestling with one of Magneto's men, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He moves toward Logan with that terrifying grace, claws flexing, every step an unspoken threat.

A chill washes over you, a visceral reminder of your last encounter—the pain, the terror, that predatory glint in his eye. If not even a bear would attack Creed, what could Logan do? Logan was powerful, you knew this, but still. The fear you felt overpowered any rational thought in your mind. Logan’s words suddenly came to: He’s more beast than man. The thought gives you pause, igniting an idea that drowns out every instinct to flee. Maybe, if he’s more animal… maybe you can reach him. Afterall, that’s what you did best.

Ignoring every impulse to stay back, you center yourself, closing your eyes and sending your energy outward. Tentatively, you reach out toward him, your mind brushing his the same way you’d approach a wary, wounded creature. The connection is strange, chaotic, but you can sense that raw, wild animal simmering just beneath his skin.

Easy, you think, letting your words flow to him in a soft, calming rhythm. I’m not here to fight you. Your thoughts reach the beast within him, the instinct lying coiled and wary. In the distance, you feel a flicker of almost imperceptible hesitation. You press on, soothing the wild part of him, coaxing it to surface.

For a moment, Creed stills, the tense lines of his body softening as he scans the battlefield with confusion. His gaze finally finds you, and something unguarded glints in his amber eyes, a spark beneath the cruelty. He tilts his head, almost curious, as if struggling to understand why, in the middle of this battle, he suddenly feels calm. Logan’s gaze followed his, knowing something was happening but wasn’t quite sure what.

Around you, the battle blurs, sounds fading as the moment stretches between you and Victor. You take a slow, tentative step forward, feeling the brittle truce hanging in the air. Sabretooth lets out a low, guttural sound that’s not quite a growl, but close. It’s a warning, a reminder that this calm could shatter in a heartbeat. But he doesn’t lunge, doesn’t raise his claws. He just watches, his eyes softening into something that looks almost… understanding. You had reached him. Stroking the animal inside of him. And as you held out your hand, as if he were a scared dog, Victor stepped closer. The gaze that once haunted you now looked as peaceful as a black bear’s.

Logan’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Hey! Get the fuck away from her!” He’s sprinting towards you, claws flashing, a fierce protective anger in his stance, and in that instant, the moment between you and Sabertooth shatters.

Sabretooth’s eyes flash with something dark, almost like betrayal, and his familiar wild gleam snaps back to life, the brief calm swallowed by aggression. With a snarl, he turns toward Logan, muscles taut with rage. But before he lunges, he casts a final, questioning look your way, an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes, then charges toward Logan with renewed fury.

The battle ends eventually, but Logan’s anger doesn’t. His voice reverberates down the corridor of the X Mansion as he catches up with you, and you brace yourself against the tension radiating from him.

“What the hell was that back there?” He demanded to know, crossing his arms. “You went face-to-face with Sabretooth on your own. Are you out of your damn mind?” Seeing you do something so reckless pissed him off. Not only because of your actions, but the helplessness he felt knowing that if Victor lashed out at you he wouldn’t have been able to reach you in time.

You shift anxiously, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. “I just thought maybe I could reach him, Logan. You said it yourself. He’s more beast than man.”

Logan’s growl deepens as he runs a tense hand over his face in frustration. “Doesn’t mean he’s some stray you can tame,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve ever heard, “Victor Creed doesn’t stop. He doesn’t feel. He just… destroys.”

His words sting, but you don’t back down. “I know exactly what he’s capable of, Logan.” The memory of claws tearing into your skin flashes across your mind, but you push it down with a hard swallow. “But I felt something in him. He hesitated. I got through to that instinct in him, the part that recognizes friend from foe. For a moment, he was calm. He wasn’t angry. He was… something else.”

Logan’s expression hardens, his jaw tense and his shoulders square as he searches your face. “You’re telling me you got in his head?”

You nod, carefully choosing your words. “Not his mind exactly—more like his instincts. I reached out to him like I do with wild animals, letting him know I wasn’t a threat.”

Logan looks away, his gaze troubled. “He’s not just an animal, kid, he’s worse. You’re lucky he didn’t rip you apart for trying to mess with him.”

“Maybe,” you admit, a slight tremor in your voice, “but I had to try. I thought if I could reach that part of him, it might give us an advantage next time, make him hesitate.”

Logan lets out an aggravated sigh, rubbing a hand through his hair, frustration softening into something closer to worry. “And what if he doesn’t hesitate next time? What if he’s even more dangerous because he knows you tried to fuck with his head?” You hesitate, Logan’s words filling you with doubt. It always hurt you, the way the other X-Men doubted you. Because you wield the wilds, but you don’t command it. Never forcing it. You couldn’t summon storms like Ororo or fling objects like Jean. You were at the mercy of nature’s kindness and willingness to help. But that didn’t mean you weren’t damn good at what you do.“I’ll be careful. But I’m not afraid of him, Logan. He’s no more dangerous than a puma with a thorn in its foot.”

He stares at you, a mix of frustration and something softer lingering in his gaze, and finally, he shakes his head. “Damn stubborn,” he mutters, though there’s a trace of admiration in his tone. “You got guts, I’ll give you that. But promise me one thing.” He leaned down to meet your gaze, tone turning serious. “Don’t ever face him alone again.”

You nod, offering a sheepish smile. “I won’t. I promise.” ________

Victor Creed carried ghosts proudly. Viewing it like a collection of trophies. Each broken bone, each scream, each flicker of fear was his kind of keepsake. Something he fed off of. His history dripped with blood, and he relished in every memory, gnawed on it like a wolf savoring the marrow of a kill. The world was simple. A brutal hunt where only the strong survive. Mercy was weakness. Fear was power.

But now… Now, something new clung to him like a fever he couldn’t shake. No matter how hard he tried to shove it down, it lingered- the memory of you. Not just the fight, not just the thrill of claws and blood, but something that went deeper. Something that burrowed under his skin, haunting and maddening. Mocking him every second of every day.

It had started with that look you’d given him. That strange, unflinching calm when he lunged at you. Sure, there’d been fear, but layered beneath it was something else, something sharper, like quiet understanding. And then you reached for him, your mind brushing against his like a whisper. A memory that should’ve faded by now, but instead it was rooted there, scratching at him every time he closed his eyes.

He dismissed it at first. Just another fight, another soul who’d end up bleeding out beneath his claws. He’d felt your blood on his hands, seen the fear in your eyes, but then - just for a heartbeat - he felt something in him recoil. A split second. A hesitation. You’d found some part of him he’d thought was long dead.

Victor sat alone in the dark, his muscles taut, every breath shallow, trying to chase away the sensation that you’d left in his bones. The shadows felt different now, offering no solace, no escape. He’d always been alone, surrounded by the gnashing of his own rage, but now there was something else. A quietness, a sliver of peace threading through his mind like a shard of sunlight. It lodged itself there, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off, a warmth he couldn’t unfeel. He clenched his fists until his claws bit into his palms, trying to drown out that maddening feeling.

The worst part? The part he wouldn’t admit even to himself? It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Something in him wanted to understand this feeling, this ease that left him hollow and wary. Something fragile had broken through the layers of anger and violence that his very being was cocooned in. It felt more dangerous than any mutant he had ever faced.

Letting out a low growl into the empty room, Victor wished he could tear you out of his body. Remove you like the parasite you were. “You did something to me.” The words tumbled out, a raw confession spoken to the darkness. His jaw tightened as emotions flickered, emotions he couldn’t put names to. He knew hatred, he knew rage, but this…this left him lost, a torment he didn’t know how to fight. Because as much as he fought it, some buried part of him wanted to know what it was about you that had struck this peace, however brief, into his soul.

And then, like a wound reopening, the memory of the battlefield surged back to him. The way you’d looked at him; not with fear, not as some monster, but as if you’d seen something else. Him. He snarled against the thought, but he could still feel your words, gentle yet firm, guiding him, pulling him back just enough to see himself through your eyes. Flawed, broken, yes, but human. It was that part that terrified him the most.

Human. That damned word hung in the air like a curse. You’d seen something human in him—a part he’d killed, buried, silenced, because weakness wasn’t for men like him. But that part was waking up now, stretching in the darkness no matter how fiercely he tried to stamp it out.

He paced the room, each step heavy, his mind spiraling. You’d touched something in him that wouldn’t let go, like a splinter he couldn’t dig out. No amount of bloodshed would scrub him clean of this stain, this gentle infection. He was a creature of shadow, of rage and violence. A creature, damn it! But you had shown him something else, something that lingered like a fire in his soul. And it was eating him alive.

He saw your face in his mind, those wide eyes that had stared past the monster to something deeper. He tried to summon the anger, tried to let it burn away the strange warmth left in him. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t stop seeing you, couldn’t forget the way you’d looked at him.

What have you done to me?

[sidekick-hero]

I'm down on my knees (I wanna take you there)

(steddie | explicit | 8.5k | part 2 of Emotional Motion Sickness | tags: soft dom Eddie, healing through kink, emotional hurt/comfort | AO3)

"I liked... how it felt when you held me by the throat. Just. Feeling your hands, knowing that I could let go and you'd got me. I felt, I dunno, safe? That's what I liked about it, I think."

The way Eddie beams at him makes Steve's heart beat faster and a kaleidoscope of butterflies take flight inside him. Eddie looks as if Steve has just given him the most precious gift he's ever received, and Steve thinks he'd do anything to make Eddie look at him like that. He kisses Steve like that too, gratitude and awe and something else, something that almost tastes like love in the way his tongue caresses Steve's.

"I... you're... fuck, I don't know what to say," Eddie pants against his mouth, their lips barely a breath apart.

"That's a first," Steve teases him back, giddy happiness chasing away the last vestiges of his nightly terrors. It's hard to be anything but happy in the face of a stunned Eddie looking up at him, eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.

"Brat," he answers, and it sounds like sweetheart and darling and baby to him.

Then something changes in Eddie's eyes. His hands slide from Steve's back to his shoulders and down his arms, intertwining their fingers.

"You want to try this now, Stevie?"

"Yes. Please."

"Always so polite, so sweet to me." Eddie brings first his left, then his right hand to his mouth and plants a soft kiss on the back of it. "I want you to be a good boy and relax. Let me take care of you, okay? Same rules as last time. You can tell me to slow down or stop at any time, and I will, no questions asked. I won't get mad. I want to make you feel good, so is there anything else you want besides my hands around your throat?"

Steve thinks about it, takes his time, because this is important. Eddie wants him to be good, to be honest and tell him what he wants, so Steve tries.

"Maybe you could..." he begins, slowly raising his eyes from their intertwined hands to Eddie's face. "I want you to take off your clothes, too. I want it to be just us, nothing between us. I want you to see all of me and I want to see all of you."

Almost playfully, Eddie kisses the tip of Steve's nose and grins at him. "Your wish is my command, love."

Love.

Before he can think any further about the new pet name, Eddie begins to undress, first taking off his sleep shirt before standing up and pulling down his pajama pants. Steve swallows hard as he takes him in.

He's seen Eddie naked before, explored his skin, tasted his cum. But it was all in the heat of the moment, no time to just... look. Admire the beautiful man before him, his pale skin and dark ink, the sparse chest hair, the jewelry around his neck and on his fingers glistening in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Eddie's body is slender, with long limps and a small waist. But there are muscles in his arms and the width of his shoulders. He's so undeniably masculine that it makes Steve's stomach do a little flip, and that's before he takes the time to take in Eddie's half-hard dick, nestled in a thick tuft of dark pubic hair.

"Like what you see?" the smug bastard asks, as if he couldn't tell by the way Steve hasn't even dared to take a breath since Eddie lost his pants.

"It's okay, I guess," Steve says, sounding too breathless to convince anyone.

Eddie laughs indulgently, spreads his arms wide and does a slow turn, showing Steve every glorious inch of his body. Even his flat ass does it for Steve and he wonders if Eddie has cast some kind of spell on him. Steve's heart may be trigger-happy, but the way he fell for Eddie, fast and hard, is unheard of, even for him.

"Now you," Eddie winks at him before rubbing his hands like a greedy goblin, making Steve snort an unsexy laugh. Eddie just grins back at him, obviously happy to have made Steve laugh.

Then the grin slowly fades from his face as he lets his eyes roam over Steve, and as he saunters over to him, hunger replaces the playfulness in his eyes. When he reaches Steve, Eddie doesn't hesitate before pulling him into a deep, dirty kiss. It feels like Eddie wants to crawl inside Steve through his mouth, and by God, Steve would let him.

Steve pulls away from Eddie's eager lips and places a finger over them, effectively stopping Eddie from chasing his mouth.

"Now me," Steve says, standing up from the bed, Eddie's hands not letting go of him until he is completely out of their grasp.

Read the whole story on AO3

Happy Birthday, my dear friend @firefly-party - it's late, but it comes with a lot of love💜 Thank you for always inspiring me, be it by reccing me great fic, gush about our blorbos or, like with this piece, with your talent. I love everything you draw and I'm so happy I was able to write something for it.

This is inspired by Kei's gorgeous piece of art, held.

Also a special shout out and thank you to the best beta reader there is, @acasualcrossfade. Thank you my friend 💜

[steviewashere]

Want to Go Home With You (Bring Me a Home) Chp. 2

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change With Future Chapters) CW: None, at least for now Tags: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Took Canon Out Back And Pulled an Old Yeller, Mer!Steve Harrington, Fisherman!Eddie Munson, Packless Steve Harrington (kind of?), Soft Steve Harrington, Confused Steve Harrington, Lonely Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Wants to be Loved, Mermaids with Animal Like Instincts, Future Propositioning, Lowkey Might Involve Some Omegaverse Aspects in the Future (Not Sorry)

Read the first part over here

Read the third part over here

Can also be read on AO3

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ In the morning, right at 5:30, he prepares a thermos full of soup, dresses himself in his embarrassingly tall boots, and carries himself to the dock.

To where Steve will find him.

And sure enough, poking his head out of the water, is Steve. Beaming at him, sharp teeth, smile lines and all. His tail flicks under the water, glowing and heavy. “Eddie,” he greets brightly. “Found you.”

“You gonna keep me, Steve?” Eddie teases, righting his boat to stop before Steve. He hefts the net over, watches as Steve willingly climbs in, and grabs for his thermos. “Keep me and hide me with all your stuff?”

“Can I keep?” Steve asks, but it’s all too genuine.

Eddie, in turn, can’t find it in himself to continue to joke and tease. Blushing instead of answering as he pours some of the soup into the thermos’s lid. Hands it off and grins at how Steve sniffs. With his entire nose, scrunching the tip of it, furrowing at the scent. The slight tilt to his head as he realizes there’s warmth in his hands.

“Soup,” Eddie says, “fish soup. Brought you some of the warmth from my home.”

“Soup,” Steve echoes. “Made of love?”

He didn’t expect that question as he sipped at his own soup, choking on the liquid and small chunks of fish. His palm hits roughly at his chest to dislodge the food in his throat. And with a strained voice, “Fish, Stevie. But, sure, it’s made of love, too. My uncle helped me make it.”

Steve brings it up to his mouth. Latches on. Teeth grating against the metal lip, to which Eddie minutely grimaces at. And he chugs it back without chewing. Hefts it up to Eddie’s line of sight, gripping harshly to the still warm lid. Pressing it into Eddie’s bubble of space. And asks, “More? More love soup?”

Without answering, Eddie pours more into Steve’s cup. Though, before Steve has the chance to drink more back, he states, “Slow. You eat it slowly so you can taste it.”

A tiny drink, so small it’s almost nothing. Eddie is absolutely enamored. “Like that?” Steve asks, checking.

Eddie laughs low from his belly, which in turn makes Steve gaze at him—softly, yet passionately. “You can eat more, but don’t do it all at once. If you eat it too fast, you can make yourself sick. At least, I’m assuming. I don’t know how merfolk stomachs work.”

Steve brings the soup back to his lips, another small sip, and then cradles it close to his chest. He rests his elbows on the edge of Eddie’s boat. And stares unblinking at Eddie’s face. His lips stretch into another smile, sharp teeth glinting in the fresh sunrise. “You are the first human I have seen,” he states, “and I have met.”

“First, huh? You’re a lot more trusting than I’d expect. I can’t represent all of humanity, but I’m assuming the impression I’ve left is good?”

“Eh-die,” Steve says, choppy, testing the word once more. “You are like a pearl. A good thing.” He slurps noisily at his soup again, chewing open-mouthed, and swallowing with too much force. Eddie finds him so incredibly endearing. “We collect pearls. They are shiny and pretty. You are pretty, Eddie.”

He sits close to the edge of his boat and leans into Steve’s space, elbows on his thighs. Up this close, Eddie can map every mole and freckle, how the saltwater makes his eyelashes stick together, the slight way the light hits his magnificent tail. “Well, you’re a charmer, aren’t you?” Eddie questions, though it’s more to himself, as Steve looks on with mild confusion. But he beams again when Eddie adds, “You’re pretty, too. I quite like your tail, Stevie.”

A short trill. It makes Steve’s throat vibrate, Eddie can see how his muscles work to make the noise. “It is not a good color, but thank you.” He sips at the stew again as if Eddie’s world isn’t crumbling.

“Not good? Steve, these colors are gorgeous. Maybe I’m a bit biased, considering I don’t have a tail, but I can’t stop looking at it,” Eddie emphatically says. “I can hardly believe you’re real, yet here you are, being beautiful in ways I’ve literally never seen.”

Steve hums and wriggles in the net. Swaying back and forth. “Feel funny. Not cold with you, Eddie. You feel?” He snatches up one of Eddie’s hands and slams it onto his chest. His heart beats rapidly under Eddie’s hand and he’s wonderfully warm. “New,” he murmurs, awed.

“I can feel it, Steve. You must like it when I compliment you, huh? When I tell you nice things?” Eddie runs his thumb over Steve’s collarbone, relishing in his wiggling again. “You’re cute, Steve. Glad that you found me again.”

“Now I can keep? I find and I keep Eddie?” He’s looking on with such sincere earnest, a part of Eddie crumbles. There’s no way that he can safely transport Steve to his home, onto the land. Not only that, but Eddie can’t exactly live in the ocean.

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, heartbroken already as Steve deflates in front of him. “I can’t come with you and you can’t come with me. I’m a human, sweetheart. I’ve got lungs. I won’t be able to breathe under the water forever. And you’ll dry out if you stay on the beach with me. I’m sorry,” he explains solemnly. He wishes that there was a sufficient way for Steve to truly understand him. To get through that whatever bond they’re forming has to remain frozen here, in this little bubble, where Eddie indulges the quiet early morning and the calmest waves. But he can’t figure out a way to let him down permanently.

Almost doesn’t want to.

At his words, though, Steve finally falls silent. Eyes down towards the lid of the thermos. Gripping harshly to the cup, still. However, instead of a look of great sadness and despair, it’s rather one of thought and hope. Thinking of something, Eddie’s unaware of what, though. He busies himself with capping the thermos, setting it to the side, and grabbing for his fishing pole. He had to give an excuse to his uncle about needing the boat, may as well bring home the evidence.

Eddie fashions the rod with his best bobber and baits the hook with a worm—extra security. He shuffles away from where Steve is still resting in his net. And tosses the line out just a handful of feet in front of him. Sits back onto the nearest bench of the boat and waits with rod in hand.

While the air is silent around him and his eyes are out at the water, the net rustles. In his peripheral, he notices Steve chug the rest of his stew, aim the lid over his shoulder, and chuck it back down to the boat’s floor. He turns his head to face Steve. “Whatcha doing?” Eddie asks.

“Wait here,” Steve states, “be back with Steve’s stuffs.” And then he angles over the side of the net, grips to the rope-like edge, and somersaults himself into the water, disappearing with a heavy and loud splash. The water ripples steadily where he entered. Eddie’s lost in the motion of the waves, giving no care for his heaving rod. He steps towards the net again and watches with wide eyes.

Waiting, like Steve told him. Even though he could take his chance and bail. Turn away from this odd merman that wants to know him. Get back to land and map out a new fishing spot at a different dock. Yet, here he stands. Leaning over the edge of his uncle’s sailboat. Holding his breath for a mer that he didn’t think could be real until yesterday morning.

Only a few minutes later does the surface break. Steve’s wavy hair emerging first. Then his eyes and nose and pouting lips. His tail moves under him, flicking to his right then left, mimicking the movement of sharks most likely. But he propels forward to the net again. “Help?” He requests, though his voice croaks. “Want help, see Eddie.”

He lowers the net hastily and lets Steve clamber back inside. When he raises it again, they’re at eye level with each other. Noses almost touching. Steve settles back inside the net and rests his arms on the edge of the boat, crossed over one another. Eddie gives him space, but not before noticing that one of Steve’s hands are fisted, clearly holding something.

Steve snatches Eddie’s left hand and unfurls it. He splays his closed hand over Eddie’s, fills his palm, and then curls his fingers around the item. “My stuff,” Steve mutters, “not warm, but I love. You will love?” And when Eddie peers over, Steve’s eyes are impossibly large. His eyelashes are dew-dropped and there’s a fresh glisten over his irises. They’re inquisitive and cautious, but warm unlike his out-of-water hands.

Eddie finally looks at what Steve brought him.

In the well of his palm is a pearl. Small, slightly oblong, and off white in color. It shifts like the iridescent glimmer to Steve’s tail. Off white to a silver. There’s a small divot to the top of the pearl where Eddie’s thumb can perfectly rest. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen—outside of Steve himself.

He can’t form words, but his jaw drops ajar. Can’t rip his eyes away from it either.

“Special to us,” Steve murmurs in Eddie’s silence, “gift to other mer.” When Eddie finally glances back, Steve’s cheeks have flushed crimson. There’s a soft smile on his face and the slight appearance of one his teeth, biting into his lower lip—where it must be crooked against the rest of them. “You are nice,” he whispers, “and warm.”

“I—“ Eddie stutters. “I don’t know if I can accept this, Steve. These are…Pearls are rare and expensive to humans.”

“Ex—pen—sive?” Steve questions. His head tilts slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “Silly word, Eddie. Take pearl—gift from me for love soup.”

“Are you sure, Steve? I thought this was something special to you merfolk?”

Steve shrugs. Looks over Eddie’s shoulder, embarrassment unsubtle on his face. “I have no mer. No love. No warm,” he admits, ashamed. “You are my first friend, Eddie.” He closes his eyes just as a tear works its way down his cheek—the single track a same iridescent as the pearl and his tail. Shudders through a soft, rippling, broken trill. “I give a pearl to you. Maybe you will stay? Be my friend?”

Eddie snakes out a tentative hand. Cups Steve’s tear stained cheek and runs his thumb under his eye. Steve leans into the palm and over the boat, more into Eddie’s space. “Of course, Steve,” he swears, “of course I’ll be your friend.” A warm chuff puffs over Eddie’s palm and he smiles at Steve’s relaxed face. “I accept your gift. I’ll take it back home with me later and keep it safe and hidden. It’ll be our secret, Stevie.”

“Secret,” Steve echoes.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Nobody else will know, just the two of us.” He works his other fingers into Steve’s hairline and scratches at his scalp. Surprised when Steve does something similar to a cat’s purr. Eddie’s arm vibrates with the sweet sound. “But I’ll see you as often as I can. And I can bring you more of my home to put into yours. I’ll be like…Like an honorary merman.”

Sweetly, Steve giggles. Nuzzling more into Eddie’s palm. “One day,” he murmurs, “warm home will be ours.”

And though Eddie believes that to be completely impossible, he lets himself think of a day where they’re something like roommates. Maybe even something more. Of sharing stories over hot dinners—Steve’s time in the ocean and Eddie’s time on the ocean. Their families and histories. Imagines holding each other’s faces just to gaze into one another’s eyes. As a sense of security, but warmth that seems to exude between them now.

“I’d like that,” Eddie states quietly. “Maybe one day you’ll feel the sand of my home.”

Maybe almost sounds like definitely.

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ *cough cough* Steve thinks Eddie's propositioning him. *cough cough* Pearls are special in a very certain way to merfolk.

Taglist: @scoops-aboy86 @spectrum-spectre

[sandyca5tle]

Mimic Meets Slime

I sipped my drink carefully, the hot chocolate within slightly altering the colouring of the slime it passed through as my body took it in, before my gel absorbed it, returning to its natural amber colour. I let my body relax, careful to not let myself pool too much, but glad for the warmth this cafe and drink provided, given the cold outside. I didn’t come to cafe’s often, but I needed something to warm myself up, stave off any ill effects of the chill weather the city was having. 

By sheer coincidence, I had ended up in a somewhat familiar cafe, in fact it happened to be the cafe where I had met another slime who was also starting her transition once upon a time….argh what was her name Dae? Maymay? May-

“Coffee for Mayday!” I heard the staff at the counter call out.

Mayday! That was it - wait, they’d called out that name? Was she here? I looked up and over at the counter, seeing who went to pick it up. It didn’t take long for my view of the cashier to be blocked by a sky blue, and kind of gooey looking, creature collecting her order from the counter.

Excited to reconnect with her, I stretched up and over the table, splashing down on the other side, my clothes quickly being rearranged back into position as I reformed back into a humanoid shape - with the usual inhuman accouterments - rushing over to the other slime

“Mayday?” I asked, suddenly worried I might have mistaken her for someone else… although ‘Mayday’ wasn’t exactly a common name

The blue bubble creature let out a sharp eep as her name was called an unexpected second time. Several bubbles of her hair seemed to glint, as the outside light almost made them look like blinking eyes. She turned around and started shaking severely at the slime in front of her. “Um, hi!” she squeaked.

“That is you right Mayday?” I asked her, squinting slightly at the entity before me “You’ve, well, uh, changed a lot since we last talked, so it’s kind of hard to work out from a glance - although I suppose the same is true of me,” I explained, gesturing briefly to my own appearance

She nervously shuffled her feet, staring at me like a child being scolded by a parent. She eventually looks up to take a sip of her coffee. Accidentally locking eyes with me. Her voice scratches out the words. “Wait. Oh! Oh wow I haven’t seen you in forever! Look at you now. A full on slime, with such a unique build too. How’ve you been?”

I beamed up at her, holding up a hand to show off the changes, as if my gooey body didn’t already showcase it enough “I’ve been goo-d! Bit slimier than the last time we met though,” I continued to grin “How about yourself?”

“We're look good. I mean you doing well. I mean… I'm good.” Slowly, she catches up to the rhythm of the conversation. “I'm sure it's a bit of a surprise to see us looking like this now. The actual medication has been fine, but it's certainly been a journey.”

“Given my own transition I’m sure I know some of what you’ve been through,” I told her with a sympathetic nod “Wanna catch up and talk about it all?” I offered “Don’t know if you’ve really met any other slimes, if not, might be nice to talk to someone who’s been through a similar process,”

She stumbles a bit. Seemingly scared by my suggestion. She takes her time tumbling the thought back and forth in her brain. “Ok. It would be nice to talk about it. We can walk and talk. I know a good park nearby.”

“Walk and talk, ah, okay, one sec then,” I hurriedly rushed back over to my table, my abandoned drink still there, and shaped my arm into a tendril the rough size of the cup before plunging the appendage in quickly absorbing the contents. A satisfied ripple coursed over my body as I took a moment to enjoy the drink, before bouncing back over to Mayday “Ok, good to go when you are!” I said, gesturing to the door.

Mayday smiles as I drink my cup. She seemed to find it charming. She held up her own cup and inspected it for a second before her hand wrenched open and swallowed the entire thing whole, paper and plastic included. I saw small bits of sharp teeth swim from the outside of her body into the hand that continued munching on her quote on quote, food. She let out an innocent smile before leading the way outside, politely holding the door open for me.

I watch the display, initially with a bit of surprise, but that is quickly replaced with an impressed smile, which remains as I leave the cafe, waiting a moment for Mayday to catch up “Well, first things first - teeth? Didn’t think slimes really did those, not that I’d be against having some like that,” I nodded towards the hand that had just devoured the cup “But-” I shaped something teeth-like in my mouth and ‘gnashed’ them a little, the slime just kind of squishing against itself- “I don’t really have bones, or anything hard enough to really work for them, especially recently. So how come you’ve got ‘em?”

“I had a feeling you didn't know, I'm not actually a slime.” She sped up to gain a bit of distance and twirled in front of  me. “The treatment I received ended up being the wrong medication. I'm a mimic now, I just prefer to appear as the soap slime I wanted to be… And before you worry! It's technically not Erian’s fault. Well I mean, he was pretty negligent, but also he didn't know it would happen. It's sort of like being a shapeshifter, but it feels a bit more, crude? Rough? Something like that. Toothy. We'll go with toothy.”

I scanned my eyes over her as she twirled, her form looking no less slime-y even knowing she was apparently a mimic “A mimic huh? Well, definitely mimicking a slime super well, couldn’t even tell you weren’t, even knowing,” I said, hoping that that would be a compliment “Your doctor was negligent though!? I mean, I’m guessing it’s fine given how you are about it, but still, that doesn’t sound fun, were you able to do anything about it?” I asked

She let out a soft yet strained chuckle. “Define anything? I guess I became his assistant. But directly payback like suing him? No. I've had enough legal cases for the rest of my life. But overall it's been nice. Being a mimic has actually been perfect for me. I don't think I would have been all that happy as just a slime, y'know?”

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ve never even done one legal case and I’m fine with never doing any if I can help it,” I sympathized. I had more questions, but given what and how she’d said it, I figured she didn’t want this to be all about that “Glad to hear mimic worked out for you though, woulda sucked to have ended up as something you didn’t want to be after everything,” I remarked “And I’ll try not to be offended by the ‘just a slime’ comment,” I added, playfully feigning offense, a hand to my chest

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound bad!... But are you going to stay a slime? Slimes are generally used as the starting point for another species. Do you plan on becoming anything else” She walked backwards, staring at me, eyes leveled with mine. She seems genuinely curious with a question she doesn't have an answer to.

“Well, I mean, I do kinda wanna stay as ‘just a slime’, or at least, I have no plans to abandon being gooey, but I have started taking shapeshifter meds, since that was the whole reason I started this journey, the slime was merely a stepping stone I fell in love with,” I replied, holding up a hand which quickly changed into a mallet “Been practicing this the whole time I’ve been transitioning in anticipation - actually has gotten easier to do over the past couple of months too, at least the taking shape has,” I paused for a moment, looking at Mayday as we walked “Actually, do you have any tips - I mean a mimic is a kind of shapeshifter, and I’m guessing you’re more experienced at certain things than I can be as a slime, like textures and materials?” I asked, excitement rising in my eyes.

“I'm still learning, there's a lot I don't know about mimics. Textures and materials are sort of possible. It's more like making a shell or a carapace, and coloring is a matter of trapping light to get the color you want. So I'm not actually blue right now. I'm just letting blue light bounce off of me. Same thing as most blue birds. There's a certain bit of knowledge you need. Just the general idea of how something works, then instinct fills in the gaps until you get what you want.” 

I listened carefully to what  Mayday was saying, my brain whirring as she spoke “Oh that’s interesting, didn’t know it worked like that!” I said once she had finished speaking “Interesting that you kind of describe textures and materials as a shell/carapace thing, that’s super intriguing, although I will confess I kinda hope it doesn’t work like that for me, unless I want it too,” I paused thinking “The colour/light thing is interesting though, guess I’d never thought so much about it but that makes sense, although not sure I know how to just ‘reflect blue light’.... Something to work on I suppose, and hopefully those instincts you mentioned will come along too, already noticed something in that kind of area,” I finished, suddenly realising I had been rambling a little

I also noticed that Mayday was considering my mallet hand, before she proceeded to do her best to copy it. It came out a bit off. “It's surprisingly hard to shapeshift only a part of myself. Mimics seem to prefer a whole body transformation, otherwise it gets too obvious to onlookers.” She explained

I took a moment to eye Mayday’s comparatively crude mallet-hand, trying not to frown a little “Makes sense that mimics would prioritize an accurate disguise over… well a hammer hand,” I concurred

The mimic retracted the arm back to her default shape. “I’m sure you’ll get there. I wouldn’t recommend being a mimic though. It’s a very difficult road. I didn’t even go down a crossroads for it either. I think this will mark my 24th month. What about you? How long have you been on slime hrt?”

“I didn’t have any plans to be a mimic, kinda want a little, uh, more than that,” I said, semi-grimacing “No offence.” I paused for a moment thinking about her other question “Uhhhh, 27 months ish Slime, 2 Shapeshifter,” I told her “Last few months have been very fun, actually getting to be a full slime has been… amazing,”

She wraps her arms around herself. Slowing down to trail behind me. “Sometimes I miss it. Being a slime. It was pretty brief. But it was nice. There's definitely still a part in here somewhere that would prefer to be a slime over a mimic. It's why I keep my appearance up. I think I'm a little jealous.”

I noticed her trailing and turned around to face her, subtly making an extra eye or two to keep track of where I was going “This may be entirely wrong, or insensitive, but is being a mimic really that different - I know you’re choosing to look like a slime at the moment, but I can’t imagine it’s much different?” I asked

“It's…” she pauses, her face suddenly caught in a stream of thoughts. After a while she spoke again. “I guess it's pretty similar. Yeah. It's really not that different. Anyway let's talk about something else.”

I frowned, Mayday’s reaction had been anything but ok…. But I hardly wanted to press a topic that was clearly sensitive for her “Sure… uhhh you mentioned instincts? Anything cool there?” I tried, not sure if that would still be too close to whatever she clearly didn’t want to talk about “I’ve noticed a couple myself, but I’d be intrigued to know what kinda instincts a mimic has?”

“Bitey for a start.” Mayday gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t like breaking my form at all, and crowds freak me out a lot. Really being a mimic just makes you a giant introvert.“

I let out an involuntary chuckle “That’s one way of putting it,” I replied “I have to say, the idea of like, sticking to one form just feels unpleasant to me - like it get it’s a part of the whole disguising thing, and so breaking it’d be bad, but,” as I spoke the slime on my arms rippled a little “makes me antsy thinking about it, heh. Wonder if that’s a me thing, or an early shapeshifter thing?” I pondered aloud

Mayday smirked, unable to help but find those sorts of questions calming. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one constantly wondering those kinds of things. Maybe we could talk about it? Personally I think that shapeshifters might have the instinct to change into what’s the most helpful at the time. How that affects a slime or human mind is something we have very little data on. We could spend some time speculating on this more and… Heh, sorry, didn’t mean to start rambling on like that.”

“Oh no, no, I like that thought - I’d kinda hope it isn’t super environmentally driven, I mean, of course I’d choose something beneficial for whatever I’m doing, but I don’t really want it to be ‘forced’ as it were. I just wanna be whatever I wanna be,” I responded “I suspect there definitely will be some kind of instinct like that - self preservation will probably entangle with my body’s new ability, so I suspect in life or death, or just dangerous situations I’ll end up sort of reflexively shapeshifting to stay alive, but hopefully outside of that there’ll be no instinctive coercion,” My hand idly shifted from a hand to a ball and back again as I talked “As for how the medication will affect my mind going forward… I guess I also hope not too much, crossroads stuff still kinda scares me, but at the same time, unlike slime, I do want to be fully shapeshifter - I am a shapeshifter, body just missed the memo and is catching up.” I paused for a moment, my face scrunching in thought “Actually I don’t know if I’ll have a crossroads with this new stuff, since it’s an additional… will have to note that down to ask the doctors when I get a chance,”

“I can always check the records we have to see if we have any data on shapeshifters. It definitely won’t be one to one, but it could help you prepare.” The mimic offered

My eyes widened a little. “Oh, uh, that would be lovely! I’d love that!” I told her excitedly “There’s only so much info I’ve been able to find, so if you could pass on anything else, it’d be nice to be prepared - I’d rather not lose any more bones from surprise jelly legs…. well, not that that particular incident can happen again, but, well, you get my point,” I said with a chuckle “Had enough transitional surprises over the past two years- y’know they didn’t tell me I was gonna get chlorophyll/chloroplasts, I never remember which it is, they only mentioned it after I asked about it at a checkup!” I gave an exasperated gesture “So yeah, any info you can find would be much appreciated - I can keep a lookout for mimic stuff too, but uh, I probably won’t be able to find much that doesn’t come from video games,”

She doesn’t even try to hide the frown at my offer. “Don’t try too hard… Look, I’m offering a charity. I don’t want anything in return. I’d offer advice but I can’t say I know anything about Jelly legs. Most of my experience with slimes has more to do with hair care, and I only got about two months with it before the mimic side of me took over.” Her smile picks back up. “But, I at least know a couple other slimes and shapeshifters in Erian’s records, I can always contact them for more info.”

I frown a little back at her “I only meant it to return the favour, you’re doing something kind for me, ‘least I do is reply in kind,” I said, a little softly “And the jelly legs is past tense,” I added, my tone returning, gesturing to my gelatinous legs “Just a surprise that came with this all and I’d rather avoid similar surprises going forwards,” I clarified “But yeah, either way, would definitely appreciate that, plus would be nice to hear others’ similar experiences,” I finished, pausing for a moment before speaking again “Actually, on that note, how was your transition, mimic may not be quite where I am or am going, but it’s like a cousin, and even regardless of that, it’d still be interesting to know how it was for you,”

Mayday takes a step back. But then grows inquisitive and shrugs her shoulders. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. It might be nice to recount everything. Most of the transition was actually just two months spent in a cocoon. That’s how the major biological changes happened. Before that there was the memory loss, Mimic HRT has the brain start changing pretty quickly compared to a slime, and afterwards it was the slow process of slime leaving the body before I fully became a mimic. It just about wrapped up a few weeks ago actually. I’m 100% Mimic.”

“A cocoon!?” I replied, shocked “That’s certainly unique,” I added “Memory thing fucking sucks though - I had all that change about 3-4 months ago when brain was turning into my core-” I gestured at the green sphere that resided within the centre of my torso “It was not a fun time. Kinda interesting how fast Mimic’s change - although I suppose it makes sense for a creature who can alter how they look,” I paused for a moment, thinking “Wonder if that means things’ll be quick for my shapeshifter changes,” I added “But yeah, brain changing was really not a fun time - as much as I would love to compare and contrast notes, honestly most if it is super fuzzy at best, just straight up gone at worse, as you said, memory loss,” I remarked “Was worried about losing more, or myself entirely, I’m not going to lie, honestly it’s kinda impressive your whole brain can restructure and you still retain who you are,”

I got the sense I just dealt psychic damage to Mayday with that last sentence. She spent some time thinking, the teeth on her body swirling as if they were chewing on something while she chewed on the sentence stuck in her mind. Eventually she looked at me and let out a sigh. “That's not entirely correct. Retain is a strong word. I think, for myself... I'd have to go with lost.”

I frown for a second, confused, my eyes running back and forwards as I mentally run through the words in my head. Then I pause as I realised… “Oh…” I looked at her solemnly “I guess that’s maybe what you meant with the whole ‘negligence’ thing earlier” I remarked, before stopping again, a slightly hopeful “Wait, but, I mean, you remembered me, no? So I’m guessing you didn’t lose everything? Just a few things?” I asked

“Look, you're two months into your shapeshifter medication.” She said, dodging the question. “You might end up changing in ways you never expected, and in ways that will hurt others.” She takes a long time to say anything. She clearly wanted to say something but didn't know the words for it. Finally, she sighed and stuttered out her words. “H-hello… My name is Mayday… um, w-what's yours?”

I blinked a couple times, processing what Mayday had said, before my face fell as I realised what her final words actually meant. I paused for a moment, before holding out a hand, a soft smile on my face, that hopefully covered the sadness I felt for the mimic - As much as we had bonded that first day, we’d only known each other briefly, so her forgetting me didn’t hurt as much as it could have, but I knew that for her, forgetting everything would have been horrific. “Hi Mayday, I’m Sandy, nice to meet you.”

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This was our second collab with @scrubbinn who wrote this with us! As ever love working with 'em and love what we came up with. If you haven't already, do go and check out their Mimic HRT (First - Latest) it's really great and you can learn more about Mayday's journey! The next side story for Slime HRT will be coming out (hopefully) soon (which technically takes place before this), and then I might do the first part of Shapeshifter HRT after that, or another Slime Side story, we'll see. First - Last - Next

Tags list below cut (let us know if you wanna be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[zebaji]

Just a thought I had...

Lloyd, Nya, and Morro, thousands of years after the Ninja have all died, find themselves back before the Green Ninja gets revealed.

Lloyd says no to destiny.

“... All of my training to become the best ninja wasn't in preparation to become the Green Ninja. It was... to protect him,” Kai says with a sad smile, and everyone turns to look at Lloyd, who takes a deep breath, frowns and crosses his arms, before changing the entire timeline with one single word.

“Nope.”

Everyone around him frowns, “What do you mean ‘nope’?”

“I mean I’m not going to be the Green Ninja,” Lloyd clarifies, hating that his voice sounds squeaky and childish. Seriously, he was ten again! He’d think after years of never aging or even comprehending age at all, he’d be glad to be alive, even if he was ten. Which was definitely not the case– Can he go back to the Departed Realm please? Someone really didn’t like him, that was for sure.

“Can you just decide that?” Jay asks as everyone taller than Lloyd exchanges confused looks. Well, except Nya, who’s trying to hide her smile by looking like she’s swallowed a lemon. “We don’t even know for sure if you are the Green Ninja.”

“Great!” Lloyd beams at him, giving Jay a toothy smile and nothing else. He’s acting like a child, but Lloyd doesn’t mind it as much as he did when he actually was one. He hasn’t been a kid in a very long time and while he may have the brain of a dead twenty-five-year old that has thousands of years of memories in the afterlife, nobody else knows that and he’s going to take advantage of that.

“So let’s just not make sure I am, and we can all be on our merry way!”

Silence fills the Bounty.

“I think we should double check. Just so we know…” Cole trails off with a shrug, when Lloyd glares at him with all the annoyance his ten-year-old self can muster. It’s not a lot, much to his dismay, so he allows for the weapons to be placed around him, just as Wu looks at him carefully.

“But why do you think you are not the Green Ninja, Lloyd?” He asks with a gentle carefulness.

Lloyd shrugs, “I just don’t want to.” 

I’m done fighting, he says silently. I’m done with losing everything because of destiny. Also, I already lived this life and I’m not in the mood to relive it.

The Golden Weapons float up, crackling with green energy, just like it had hundreds of years ago, and Lloyd scowls when everyone looks at him in awe or in Garmadon’s case– despair.

“Lloyd is the Green Ninja. I had thought it would be one of you, but it was him the whole time. It all makes sense. Not only have you four been chosen to protect the Golden Weapons, but also to protect the Chosen One,” Wu says reverently, and Lloyd shakes his head, probably looking like a brat, but this was his decision. 

And he says, “No. I’m not going to do it.”

“Can he do that?” Cole turns to the other adults in the room, “Say no to destiny?”

“Of course he can,” Zane interjects, “He shouldn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders yet,” He says, and Lloyd grins, relieved that someone was taking his side. “But the Golden Weapons have confirmed it, and there is no avoiding that Lloyd is the Green Ninja.”

Lloyd’s makes a face, “It’s not me,” He insists. “Because I don’t want to be.”

He doesn’t want to fill everyone with hope. Or despair, when Lloyd casts a helpless look at his father. It had been a very long time for Lloyd to see his father like this– staring at Lloyd like he was the only thing that mattered.

“If he doesn’t want to be, he doesn’t have to,” Garmadon clears his throat, pulling Lloyd closer to him. “Our family shall not be dived anymore than it has to.”

“Okay, fine! But who’s going to be the Green Ninja?” Kai throws his hands in the air. “If it can’t be one of us, and Lloyd doesn’t want to, who?”

Nya walks up, a small grin on her face with sparkling eyes that have seen too much of life as she shares a look with Lloyd. “I mean we could always ask Morro.”

Wu’s staff clatters to the ground, and half of the group turns to look at Wu alarmed, and the rest looks at Nya confused. 

“Who?” Kai asks his sister, just as Wu pushes away Cole, who had handed the old man his staff, and turns to Nya. “How do you know that name?” He demands, his face pale, gripping his staff like he’ll drop it again.

The smile that Nya gives Wu is filled with mischief and daring, as she shrugs. “Oh you know, Wojira’s descendants all sort of know each other. It’s a weather thing.”

It was very much not a weather thing. It was more of a ‘falling in a rift out of the Departed Realm, thousands of years after Lloyd thought he was done with living.’ They had been trying to prank Kai and Jay, only for the prank to go stupendously wrong and Morro, Lloyd, and Nya falling into the time stream.

They didn’t even know if Morro was here, but Lloyd hopes so. They had come a long way since Morro had possessed him back when he was sixteen. Well, Morro had apologized and made up for it, but that was hundreds of years ago, and it was all water under the bridge in their very long dead lives. 

Now, or at least before the three of them had fallen into time, they were in a decade long prank war with Jay, Cole, and Kai, as they waited for Zane to join them in the never ending party that was the Depared Realm.

Wu looks pained as he stares at Nya. “He died seventy years ago,” He whispers, his eyes turning farway and the Bounty turns solemn.

“Who was he, brother?” Garmadon asks carefully and delicate, but Wu shakes his head and straightens upwards.

“And what do you mean ‘ask Morro’? Why are you talking to dead people?” Kai demands to his sister, but before Nya can say ‘A few minutes ago I was dead,’ or something along those lines– Lloyd is definitely going to say it when he gets the opportunity to– Wu looks at her, pain in his eyes.

“Exactly, Nya. He is at peace, and has been, for much longer than you have been alive. How would we even be able to contact him?” 

Nya shrugs, and points upwards, “The wind,” she says with a shit eating grin, as a huge portal appears out of nowhere, and spits out a very angry ghost. The ninja gasp and grab their weapons, running out to the deck, while Wu stares out the window, eyes wide. 

“Show off,” Lloyd mutters to Nya, “There is no way that was a coincidence!” But she just laughs at him, before Garmadon grabs him protectively. There is no way that was planned. None!  Or maybe they had an alliance within an alliance, and he should get allies behind their backs. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do.

Lloyd wiggles out of his dad’s grip, grabbing Nya’s hand. “Come on!”

The two run out to the deck, as Garmadon follows them, dragging Wu along. “Lloyd, wait!” His dad yells, but Lloyd's grinning like a mad man, as Morro lands on the Bounty, which is swaying violently in the wind, as he rants to the poor Ninja who look increasingly confused.

“Who’s fucking idea was it to put fifty snakes into an errupting volcano?” Morro demands, “I was going to wait until Garmadon showed up, but I swore I wasn’t going to do paperwork in the Cursed Realm ever again!”

“Morro!” Nya grins, waving at him, despite Kai’s command for her to stay back. “You’re here! And super early!”

“Yeah. I’m not doing paperwork for the fucking serpentine, when I could just come through the rift they made,” Morro scoffs, only talking to Nya and Lloyd, and is very pointedly ignoring the weapons aimed at him and Wu’s face, which is twisted in so many emotions, Lloyd is worried his uncle may collapse right then and there.

Lloyd winces, “Sorry dude, that sucks.”

“Yeah,” Morro’s frown deepens, “How far back are we?”

“I’m not the Green Ninja!” Lloyd beams up at him– ugh, he’s so short too, this is the worst– and Morro gives him a very long and hard look.

“Can you just do that?” He asks, and Jay throws his hands up in relief.

“See? Even the ghost agrees with me!”

Morro smirks, ignoring the other’s spluttering, and asks, “Does that mean I can be the Green Ninja now? I have my powers back,” he says, the wind swirling around the Bounty for extra effect.

Lloyd shrugs, “Go for it,” he says, “But maybe talk to Wu first, I think he’s about to pass–”

Cole and Kai yelp as Wu falls to the ground in a dead faint. 

“–out.” Lloyd finishes with a giggle.

[crienneoftarth]

Wildest Dreams

Larissa Weems x inexperienced fem!reader

hi everyone! this is the first chapter (maybe?) of the snippet i posted a little while back. I had a few people ask if i would write/post more so i finished a little bit. this is my first fic that ive ever posted so im super nervous to post but i hope someone enjoys it :)

ao3 is here in case you’d prefer that. there’s no cw for now but will add if i decide to write more chapters as needed <3

You find a clear spot in the loud bar and begin leaning on the wall. Taking a sip from your glass, your eyes glance over to a tall, blonde figure, seemingly floating through the chaotic crowd. You start to panic as the curvy, tall woman confidently walks in your direction. She stops a few feet away from you, staring intensely. People cross in between the two of you but her gaze doesn’t leave yours. You feel your face get hot and quickly look down at your drink. Your eyes dart back up and she’s suddenly gone. Trying not to look obvious, you glance around as casually as possible.

She was literally taller than all the guys here, where the hell could she have gone? You sigh and bring the glass back to your lips. After a few more sips and scans of the room, you give up and decide to leave.

Slowly, you start making your way through the sweaty crowd towards the exit.

“Leaving so soon?” You hear a sultry voice ask behind you.

Quickly turning around, you see her again, smiling and holding out a drink towards you. You stumble over your words as she walks closer towards you.

“Here, darling. I guessed what your drink was, I hope that’s alright. But if you’re leaving, I suppose I’ll just have to keep it to myself.” She says with a red-lipped smirk.

You stutter, “N-no, I was just… Getting some air, that’s all. Thank you.”

She gives you the glass and your hands shake as you take it from her. You take a sip, trying to avoid eye contact.

Why am I so fucking nervous? What the fuck is wrong with me?

The tall woman smirked and leaned over closer to your ear, “I’ll be honest, I’m very happy you’re not leaving. I was hoping that you would leave with me.”

You swallow deeply, suddenly your mouth was completely dry despite the alcohol you just drank. You shiver as her long fingers move a bit of hair off of your shoulder. You look in her eyes for the first time and are amazed at the endless blue color. “I’m sorry, I-I’m not usually this nervous. I’ve just… never been flirted with so outright. Especially not by…” your eyes widen while you scan her tall, curvaceous build up and down. “Someone as beautiful as you…”

The woman smiles brightly at you, “I don’t believe that for a moment. my name is Larissa, may I ask what yours is, darling?”

Her accent and cadence made a shiver go down your spine. You almost completely forget what your name even is. “Uh… It’s Y/n.” You smile and look down at your drink again, swirling the liquid in the bottom of the glass.

“How beautiful, very fitting for a beautiful woman.” She beams at you again, leaning back close to your ear. “Would you be interested in joining me somewhere a bit more quiet? I’m friends with the owner, she lent me a key to the rooftop.”

Your head nods instinctually. Larissa grins and puts her arm out for you to hold onto as she guides you up a small set of stairs to a locked door. Pulling out a set of keys from her purse, she finds the correct one and opens the door and holds it open for you to step outside.

Shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath of the cool air, “Isn’t it lovely up here? Sometimes it’s just nice to step away from the chaos for a moment.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. I didn’t even know there was rooftop access here.” You respond as you look around at a small set of couches and a coffee table, with Christmas lights strung around the sitting area.

Larissa gently takes your hand and guides you to a couch. You both sit down for a moment before you let out a quiet sigh.

She notices your slight change of mood and rests her hand on your cheek, “Is everything okay, sweetling?”

Her hand was so soft and calming against your cheek. She slowly moves it into your hair, tucking a small strand behind your ear. You meet her stare and suddenly you feel as though you can’t breathe. “I’m sorry, I’m fine. Just… nervous, is all.”

“I understand perfectly. I promise you, nothing bad will happen to you while I’m around. I’ll take good care of you, my darling.”

Your body is seemingly paralyzed as she slowly leans in to kiss you. It’s the most wonderful feeling you’ve ever experienced; her soft lips against yours, her fingers running through your hair. You never want it to end.

You begin to feel an unfamiliar tightness and warmth under your stomach, but you can’t find the will to stop kissing the woman. You impulsively place your hand on her exposed thigh. She lets out a small moan as your skin touches hers.

I need to fucking hear that again.

After another minute of kissing and rubbing the skin on her leg with your thumb, you slowly slide your fingers underneath the hem of her tight skirt. Again, she moans in response to your touch. She pulls away from your lips and smiles, “I appreciate your boldness, darling, but we can’t do this here.”

Please, I’ll go wherever you tell me to.

“I understand, I may have gotten a little carried away, I apologize…” You respond, trying to steady your heavy breathing.

She chuckles quietly and tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear, “No need to apologize, just… Can I take you home with me?”

Yes! God, yes please.

You smile nervously in an attempt to not show how badly you want her to take you right there. “S-sure… Of course you can.”

Her eyes light up and she grabs your hand, pulling it up to her mouth and kissing it softly. Your arm is covered in goosebumps as a red lipstick stain is left on the top of your hand. She smiles up at you, “Let me call a car for us.”

You nod as she pulls her cell phone from her bag and you watch as her tall figure walks away for a moment.

What the fuck am I doing?

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I'm very new to reading GO fics and was looking for recs.

I just finished reading "Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach" by Nnm, and it left me on such a fic high I need more. I'd love reading Crowley centered fics with a dash of nutmeg (therapy/emotional introspection), some heart wrenching bits and also a happy ineffable husbands ending. I was wondering if you could point me towards something of the sort?

Thanks in advance, and also thank you for your service to the fandom!

Hello and welcome! If you're new you might want to check out our #fandom favourites tag (of which Demonology and the Tri-Phasic is one). We also have #therapy and #crowley-centric tags, which you may be interested in. Here are some Crowley-centric introspection fics for you that I personally love...

Do You Feel Loved? by mikripetra (T)

Crowley’s smile twists downwards. “So…still in favor of ‘the Great Plan,’ then?” “Exactly!” beams Aziraphale. “She never meant for us to go through with the Apocalypse. She planned it this way from the very Beginning, don’t you see? Everything we’ve done, everything that’s happened- every bit of it was what She intended.” Crowley swallows reflexively. His mouth tastes like ash.

this message is a warning about danger (about love) by darcylindbergh (E)

He knows Aziraphale wonders about it, sometimes. The snake. Crowley’s always careful with it. He’s always careful to make it seem like it should be impressive, to posture and pose and tease; or else he’s careful to make it seem like a joke, to fill it to the brim with bravado and confidence until it’s practically sour on his own tongue, laughing and showing off. He doesn’t ever say that he’s afraid, afterwards, and there’s not really much else to be said.

Sin Pays But Botany Doesn’t by Anonymous (G)

After averting the apocalypse, Crowley is living in his car with a lot of free time on his hands. He posts a YouTube video talking about plants as a joke but finds internet famedom where a punchline should be. Being a YouTube botanist agrees with him, though. He likes talking about plants, and he usually doesn’t find many opportunities to do that outside of YouTube. So, Crowley adopts traveling the world in search of plants to film as a new hobby. Kept in the dark about this new hobby, Aziraphale, who is used to being Crowley’s sole object of attention and is unused to having to compete with anything for Crowley’s time, is curious about where Crowley goes when he’s not in London.

Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)

Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much? That is the question.

I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)

After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.

- Mod D

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 11

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"They're calling me, back to the stars

Deep out of space, they're calling me

Back to the stars

They found peace in the ocean (peace with the pain)

Now they guide my way, guide my way…"

Meshell N'Degeocello—"Virgo"

The Royal Talon Fighter approached the opening of Warrior Falls.

Okoye and Ayo scanned a twenty mile radius before flying over the valley of gushing water walls to the other side.

"Kumkani, I've found the hover bike…"

Ayo glanced over at the king who sat in a pensive position behind her. Okoye flew the aircraft lower to the base of the Falls as N'Jadka stood next to Ayo and looked at the viewscreen that projected the image of a broken hover bike floating in an undertow where it was caught between two boulders.

"No signs of Queen Yani," Ayo said with a soft tone.

N'Jadaka's jaguar suit swarmed around him and he tapped the opening of the circular floor exit. He dropped eighty feet and splashed into a deep plunge pool of cold black water. Below the surface he scanned for signs of life around the bike before dragging it onto land. A flash of pink caught his eye and he lunged for it in the water.

Yani's walking shoe. It was drenched and unmarked, unlike the damaged hover bike. She had to have fallen trying to fly over the giant falls. He quelled the rise in panic in his demeanor. She was alive somewhere. He willed it.

Okoye's voice broke through his reverie, loud and clear inside his face mask.

"There are no other traces of anything. That is a good sign," Okoye said.

N'Jadaka dove below and searched underwater. Yani had a strong body. If she were injured somewhere he would find her. He scanned for her kimoyo beads thinking they may have been snapped away from her wrist, but there was nothing.

Breeching the surface he leaped onto the land and surveyed the surroundings. Okoye and Ayo dropped down from the gravity tracking beam. Aneka stood watch over the Talon Fighter. High above, stinger aircrafts circled the sky.

"Kumkani…here…" Ayo said.

Footprints in the moist earth. He recognized the pattern of her sandals. The king gave a grateful sigh of relief. His wife was alive and somewhere out there searching for God knew what. It wasn't like her to disappear like that without telling him where she was. He stared at the height from which she fell and all the dangers that could've swallowed her up. Was she under the influence of something? Did someone…or something lure her away? He remembered the panther cubs he couldn't see back in Ekuqaleni. Did they trick her into coming here?

Worry knotted his brow.

Wakanda was still a wondrous and mysterious place to them both. Anything could've happened to her.

"Come on," he said.

They followed Yani's tracks until they came upon two more that were bigger compared to hers. They made deeper impressions in the mud and directly faced Yani's footprints. Men. She followed them willingly because there was no sign of struggle in the area.

They scanned and tracked until the ground changed into grasslands and decomposing leaves. The grass was so thick like shag carpet that it didn't even bend to give an indication of what direction they went.

"They're gone…can't find anymore markings," Ayo said, crestfallen.

"She's gotta be around here somewhere. Let's spread out for a mile and check in," He tapped his kimoyo bead, "Aneka, contact Dr. Chidubem discreetly and have him flown here in case the Queen has major injuries."

"Yes kumkani, right away," Aneka said in his earbuds.

N'Jadaka shook out his arms and charged into the mountain forest on high alert.

He had to find his wife and return her to his side.

Warm balmy water cascaded all over Yani's body as she stepped through the birth waters. The entrance of the oracle's cave hummed and vibrated and the sounds made her jumpy. Passing through to the other side led her to the tranquil natural pool of glowing turquoise waters with steam rising from it.

"You made it Queen Yani."

Yani recognized the voice of Jabulile.

The woman was dressed in a long green robe like the men that brought Yani there. She was alone and holding a folded royal blue robe.

"Please bathe in these waters, from head to toe. I will help you put on this robe when you are finished," Jabulile said.

"Where are the other two women that were with you?" Yani asked.

"With Nolwandle…the oracle. They are waiting for you in the interior of the womb. Please kumkanikazi…bathe."

Jabulile turned her back to give Yani privacy as she willingly stripped down. She dipped a toe in the water first, and it wasn't too hot. Submerging herself, she gave into the heat and liquid comfort. The water smelled like sweet perfumes and tingled all over her skin. Dunking her head below, she quickly rubbed herself down. The water reflected against the ceiling and walls of the cave. She noticed inscriptions written in a language other than Wakandan, with pictographs depicting waves and sea creatures painted with neon blue paint. Some images were carved into the walls and looked older and eroded in some places. The bandage on her wrist fell away, and so did the dull ache of pain she carried since the Falls.

Stepping out of the pool, Yani looked for a towel.

Jabulile turned around and unfurled the robe she carried.

"No need to dry yourself, put this on quickly…here, I'll take those bandages for you. Follow me this way please…"

Yani trailed behind Jabulile. The light source used to illuminate their way couldn't be pinpointed by Yani. The cave floor was soft black sand that didn't seem to belong to that particular ecosystem. Her robe swished at her feet and stuck to the wet parts of her body, contouring itself like a designer dress. They walked through a purple mist that swiped across her skin like spiderwebs breaking across her face and body. She waved her hands around only to find that it was a sensation only…nothing was on her skin.

Her eardrums throbbed with the pounding of the drums…no…they couldn't be drums. The two young women who had drums were too far away to emit the sound she heard right then. Yani tuned in closer and realized the sound was a heartbeat, as if the cave was a living thing pumping its heart in a soothing rhythm.

Strange.

Yani walked a normal rate of speed, but her body felt like it was slowing down.

"We are almost there Queen Yani," Jabulile said.

Jabulile's voice sounded far away, the way it would if Yani were deep underwater listening to speech high above her head. Her heart thumped faster and she inhaled air through her mouth to calm down her fear.

They reached a narrow opening where the two women Yani asked about, Khanyisile and Nolwazi, stood watch holding torches. Both women smiled, relief evident on their faces.

"Go through there and you will find her," Jabulile said.

The passageway was dark and had only enough room for one person to pass through at a time.

"By myself?" Yani asked.

All three women nodded.

"Do not be afraid Queen Yani. Mama Wati protects you," Nolwazi said.

Yani shook her fingers and stepped past the women into the foreboding passage. Darkness swallowed her and she heard her own breathing speed up. Claustrophobia threatened to paralyze her from moving on, but she swallowed thickly and mustered the courage to keep walking, even as her shoulders hit the sides of the unseen walls. Step by step. Inch by inch. Yani staggered through thirty yards of pitch black until her cone and rod cells worked again to detect light and movement ahead.

Her eyes adjusted.

A woman with skin the color of freshly made Jamaican black castor oil sat crosscrossed on a bright green rug with painted sea turtles and stingrays. Her hair was wrapped in a large seagreen headwrap and her neck was heavy with seashell necklaces and sun-yellow glass beads. She could've been thirty, or she could've been seventy, it was anyone's guess with Wakandan people. They aged gracefully and seemingly slow. Bright eyes the color of glowing jade in the center and dark amber at the edges peered at her with a welcome kindness.

"Queen Yani Udaku of the Black Panther Tribe…and the unofficial adopted daughter of the River Tribe…I welcome you home. Sit…right there…in front of me," the Oracle Nolwandle said.

Yani crossed her legs on the long green rug facing the oracle. Nolwandle sat and stared at Yani's face until the young queen squirmed her hips.

"You look the way my emissaries said you did…youthful and full of energy. Very beautiful. The king loves beauty I hear," Nolwandle said.

The oracle's unnatural jade-powered gaze pierced through Yani's defenses of trying to appear stoic and queenly. Sitting in front of her made Yani feel like a young child chatting with her grandmother.

"King N'Jadaka's energy can be felt all throughout the kingdom. He carries his ancestors well. They are strong on the other side. The king is on his way now to retrieve you. I can feel his worry over you."

"I don't want him to worry," Yani said.

"There is apprehension in your voice my queen. Mama Wati wants you to be at ease here."

"It's hard…I don't know what to expect…I don't know what to do…"

"Ease…my queen…breathe in deep…"

Yani inhaled and Nolwandle urged her to do more. Behind the oracle, a small fire burned inside a stone fireplace. To the oracle's left side was a wide opening in the cave that led to a river of water not found on any Wakandan map. A pile of stones held another fire that lit up the roof of the cave leading out into the open water where other large mountains touched one another leaving gaps for water to flow past. Part of the walls shined like the sparkling emerald water reflecting shimmery images dancing on the walls. The interior felt dark, warm and mysterious and the waterway hinted at sunshine and an upperworld.

"Breathe…yes…deeply…slowly…"

Nolwandle reached behind her and lifted a bundle of herbs tied with bright white string. She tossed them into the fire and it sparkled and puffed out dark blue smoke.

"Breathe daughter…yes…deeper still…allow the smoke to enter your lungs."

"Are you drugging me…it feels thick in my chest…" Yani gasped, clutching her throat.

"I am opening the path for us to travel. Mama Wati will partially lift the veil for you to receive the message meant for you…"

"I can't breathe…I'm having a hard time…oracle! Help me…I can't!" Yani choked out.

"The message is coming, daughter. Mama Wati has opened the veil…"

The unseen presence of an entity larger than the cave itself came first.

It its wake was a pressure, like an ocean's weight of water pressing down on Yani's body, threatening to flatten her. The pressure in her ears changed too. She clutched at her throat and yet Nolwandle remained calm, her lips moving but no sound coming out.

The presence wrapped itself all over the cave and a roar thundered in Yani's ears. She looked toward the placid water outside and a mammoth ocean wave rolled toward her in slow motion. Yani couldn't move, her lower body locked to the ground helpless and unprotected. She could still mover her head though.

"Nolwandle!" Yani shouted.

Yani glanced at the oracle again and the woman's head fell back. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth stayed wide open. Yani whipped her head to brace herself for when the wave would hit them, but it was gone. The opening was covered in a tranquil water barrier that made the outside scenery look blurry, fluid, and dreamy.

"Yani…"

A voice behind the water barrier came out of the oracle's mouth. Confused, Yani looked at Nolwandle again. Her mouth stayed agape and frozen in that position.

"Yani…JaJa's wife…"

Yani heard the voice come from the oracle, but it sounded like it was behind the water barrier too, as if it bounced out to use the oracle as its frequency to the human world. The queen rose from her seated position and walked toward the barrier. The shadowy outside world was there, rippling behind the veil.

Two figures walked forward.

Yani held her breath and waited until they stood before her. One was older and the other younger. Her breath hitched in her chest and she stumbled back, unable to believe her eyes.

The younger woman had fiery brown eyes and big ginger hair that crowned her head like a giant sunburst. Yani recognized the same freckles her son had. The older woman was shorter with an exquisite face etched with wisdom that matched the younger woman. Her hair was looser in texture and had faded streaks of light brown mixed in with white that was cornrowed in four thick braids going straight back. Yani knew right away the two women were related. Long pearl-white tunics shrouded their bodies.

"You know who I am. Don't you?" the younger woman said.

Yani nodded.

"Califia Stevens Udaku…N'Jadaka's mother."

"Yes…this is JaJa's great-grandmother, Nana Jean."

"Hello, ma'am," Yani said, instantly genuflecting to them both.

Nana Jean laughed and Califia joined her. The older woman held up a hand.

"We are family baby, you don't bow to us," Nana Jean said.

The presence pushed down on the cave and the water barrier vibrated, blurring the women from Yani's view.

"Califia!" Yani shouted.

Their images shimmered back into view seconds later. Yani wiped frantic tears away from her eyes, so terrified her mother-in-law and great-grandmother-in-law had vanished. Califia held her hand against the barrier. Yani raised hers to try and touch it. The cool blue kinetic liquid would not allow them to connect.

"I wish I could comfort you, Yani. Mama Wati has warned us. Bast is awake inside of my son. I'll have to speak quickly before we lose contact," Califia said.

Yani was spellbound by Califia, the woman's beauty staggered the imagination. She carried a vibrant charisma that was like N'Jadaka's times ten. No wonder Prince N'Jobu stayed away from his home and defied a nation. Califia was priceless.

"You're going to conceive a baby who is so important that they'll have the power to split the world into pieces in the future. I apologize having to sound so cryptic but I'm breaking so many rules to be here with you. I took what I could decipher from the realm of time in the spirit world with my limited understanding. Although I'm an ancestor now, Bast still shrouds us from telling humans too much."

"When?" Yani asked.

"Soon...two or three years at most from what little I could decipher from the time threads. A man is also coming there who will challenge my son for the world. I need for you to survive the war they may wage—"

"More war? In Wakanda?"

"War all over the world. You're the key to preventing their battle from consuming JaJa. If anything happens to that baby or you…my son will burn the world down and the future will become bleak for everyone on the planet even more than it is. Your baby must survive at all costs in order to claim their birthright and keep Wakanda secure years from now. That child will turn the nation into an empire. No matter the cost, it must happen!"

Califia stepped closer to the veil, unable to penetrate it. Her voice came from behind Yani through the oracle's mouth, but Yani focused on Califia's face.

"My son has lost too much in this world. I don't want him suffering again if I can warn you. I couldn't come to him because Bast would block me directly, so I had to come for you through Mama Wati," Califia said.

"I understand. I'll do all I can to protect our baby."

"Not just the one to come, but Riki and Joba too."

"Riki and Joba? What's going to happen to them?" Yani yelped.

The cave vibrated with the force of an earthquake. Califia and Nana Jean glanced behind them. Worry clouded their faces.

"Nothing will happen if you can prevent it," Califia said.

Nana Jean became agitated and looked over her shoulder again.

"We should leave now, Cali…Dayclean is coming," Nana Jean said, grabbing Califia's arm, pulling her back from the veil.

Califia gently patted her grandmother's hand, stood her ground, and locked eyes with Yani.

"Joba and Riki will be the ones to help the baby become what she needs to be in order to rule the future. But that future will face turmoil if none of them live once a foretold prophecy begins at your pregnancy. When Namor returns, be ready Yani. This is all I have to give you," Califia said.

"Namor," Yani repeated, searing the name into her mind.

"You must stay away from him…you and the children—"

"Califia!"

The booming voice of a distraught man flew out of the oracle's mouth making Yani jump. He appeared next to them in a long white tunic.

N'Jobu.

N'Jadaka's father.

Seeing N'Jadaka's parents together knocked Yani's knees. Never would she have dreamed of seeing them alive and looking so well from the other side. N'Jobu turned his kind eyes toward Yani.

"My daughter…Yani…you shouldn't be here with my wife or Nana Jean. Certain knowings belong to Bast, and only her. What you have heard is forbidden knowledge to that existence there. Your life must be lived with my son and grandchildren in ignorance," N'Jobu gently urged.

Califia shook her head and challenged her husband.

"No! I won't let that happen this time. Our son deserves happiness. Too much was stolen from him and I refuse to let anything be taken from him again. I don't care if I have to go against Bast or any other god to protect them."

N'Jobu put his arms around Califia. Her voiced raged from the oracle's open throat. N'Jobu's somber tone brought levity to Yani's predicament. Califia had gone above and beyond from the ancestral plane to reach her family. Her love bled through the water barrier and cloaked Yani with its comfort and legendary warrior spirit. Her willingness to defy gods was a trait Yani hoped she could live up to for her own babies.

N'Jobu gently scolded his wife.

"You have stolen free-will and burdened our daughter with fear and more confusion. That isn't fair to Yani. Now she will worry about our family needlessly," N'Jobu said.

The cave vibrated with the presence yet again. Mama Wati's collusion was weakening. N'Jobu held his wife lovingly as Nana Jean watched over them both.

"We must go back my love…please. JaJa will live a glorious life…"

"His children—"

"—will live out their destinies, whatever they will be, without interference from now on. Let them be…let them have their own lives. We are always here for them as a comfort and a reminder that life doesn't end at death."

"Yani," Califia said, still reaching for her daughter-in-law.

"You see death for us? Me and the children?" Yani asked.

Califia clutched at her temples and her mouth twisted into a horrid grimace. She appeared to be full of pain.

"Bast is jumbling up my mind…she's stealing the future threads from me…" Califia wailed.

"Califia!" N'Jobu cried out, grabbing her by the waist to keep her from falling.

A dark foreboding shadow loomed over them behind the veil in the shape of an enormous panther stalking tiny prey.

Bast.

"Forgive her Bast! Please!" N'Jobu shouted.

Bast's dark shadow scattered and floated away. Califia closed her eyes. Yani did the same as something slithery, warm, and invasive cleaved to her temporal lobe. The words of warning Califia gave her were plucked from her gray matter one by one until nothing was left. Yani struggled to grab onto anything, her brain synapses crackling with electrical impulses to store and hide any morsel. She was able to hold onto two words, and only because she sensed a benevolent shield from Mama Wati to allow her to grasp onto anything her mother Bast had culled from her mortal skull.

"It's gone, all of it. I can no longer see it," Califia said in a defeated tone.

Yani blanked out mentally as Bast swiped her mind clean too.

Nana Jean cradled Califia's face and N'Jobu nuzzled his nose against her cheek, comforting her. Soft footfalls from behind Yani captured her attention.

"Mom, Baba…"

N'Jadaka strode into the cavern with a shocked expression. Califia perked up and clung to N'Jobu's arm as she gazed at her beloved son.

"JaJa…your wife is fine. I needed to see her to tell her…." Califia glanced around trying to remember her thoughts.

N'Jadaka reached for Yani and pulled her into his chest.

"Thank the gods you're safe," he huffed into her hair. He kissed the top of her head and rocked her in his arms.

"I'm sorry I tricked you…I had to come. Your mother needed me."

N'Jadaka faced his parents. Their eyes shined bright with love for their only child. N'Jobu held Califia's hand.

"Nana?" N'Jadaka said, stepping closer to the water barrier to see his great-grandmother.

Nana Jean grinned. She swelled with pride at seeing her great-grandson as a grown man.

"Look at you… so big and handsome like your father. You did everything to hold onto our bond…my sweet great-grandson," Nana Jean said.

Pressure popped in Yani's ear. N'Jadaka experienced it too and winced like her.

"Leave here quickly son. You two aren't meant to be here like this. Your mother has been forceful as usual," N'Jobu said.

The water barrier rippled and the images behind the veil began to cloud and fade.

"Watch over each other, JaJa…love one another at all times," N'Jobu said.

N'Jadaka rushed the barrier and called to his mother. Califia gazed at him with a mixture of adoration and longing.

"Mom, why did you come to Yani?"

Califia's gaze fell upon Yani. The presence in the cave began to lift. N'Jobu tugged on Califia and Nana Jean to follow him back from where they came.

"Bast stole the memory from me, JaJa. I had it and she took it away. Yani, whatever I told you, hold onto it. I may never get to reach out like this again, but I want you both to know I tried my best to make life there good for you," Califia said. She gave N'Jadaka a winsome smile. "Take care of each other JaJa. We love you," Califia said.

Her voice sounded weary.

"Mom…Baba…wait…"

"We must go back, son. Feel us in your heart as always," N'Jobu said.

Nana Jean pressed her forehead against the barrier. N'Jadaka lined his forehead with hers and pressed against it.

"You have done well, JaJa. We are here with you at all times," Nana Jean said.

Califia blew Yani and N'Jadaka kisses and the water barrier snapped into a blurry whirlpool of foamy water. Yani turned to look at the oracle. The woman stayed in the same odd position with her eyes closed and mouth open.

"I soon come, Mama…Baba…"

A soft childlike voice came out of the oracle's mouth. It sounded like a toddler just learning to speak. It gave Yani chills, but not as much as seeing her body still sitting crossed legged in front of Nolwandle…with N'Jadaka sitting right next to her in the same position. Yani glanced back as a loud rumbling whooshing sound reverberated around them. The water barrier transformed itself into another mighty wave. It moved backward in slow motion beyond the mountain barrier. A strong force knocked Yani in her solar plexus and she gasped, finding herself punched back into her corporeal body still sitting cross-legged and staring at Nolwandle. The oracle's head fell forward and she closed her mouth, exhausted from the ordeal. Perspiration dotted her forehead and soaked her clothes. Her once glowing jade eyes had become a delicate dark brown since Mama Wati released her as a vessel.

N'Jadaka shook himself back into their side of the veil. Tears rested on his lids and Yani moved onto her knees and hugged him.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Yani said repeatedly.

"It's okay. I found you and you're safe. You left for a good reason if my parents and great-grandmother sent for you."

Nolwandle shifted to her knees and bowed her head low to the ground, holding her folded hands toward N'Jadaka.

"I beg your forgiveness, kumkani. I was directed by Mama Wati that your mother and great-grandmother wished to see the queen. I am a mere servant of the divine. My intention was not to maliciously trick you or your wife but to service the needs of your ancestors," Nolwandle said with fear laced in her tone.

N'Jadaka looked Yani over.

"Did you hurt yourself? You fell didn't you?"

"Yes," Yani said. "I may have fractured my wrist, but it feels better."

"I sent for Dr. Chidubem. He's on his way here to look you over."

Yani turned to the oracle.

"Thank you, Nolwandle. I appreciate everything you had to go through to help me."

"Blessings to you, Queen Yani. I pray that the message you received is one that will please you and prepare you for what is to come."

Yani shook her head in disappointment.

"I'm afraid I made this journey for nothing and your body suffered needlessly. Bast took away my memory of the message. Mortals can't know the future."

"Baby, it's okay," N'Jadaka said trying to soothe her depressed mood.

"I have been instructed to prepare the queen's body by Mama Wati."

"What are you going to do?" N'Jadaka asked.

Nolwandle stood and shuffled over to the fire where she lifted two wooden bowls. She brought them to Yani and placed them on the rug. She pulled a small stool out and planted herself in front of the queen.

"May I?" Nolwandle asked, pointing to Yani's damp robe.

Yani nodded and Nolwandle opened it wide revealing the queen's nakedness. Lifting a brush from the first bowl, the oracle painted a ring of blue waves around Yani's belly button that soaked into her skin like a tattoo marking. She then switched bowls and painted a different ring of twisty swirls in light green around the first ring.

"There. When you return to your honeymoon time, rub oil over them every night. The color will soak into the pigment of your skin deeper. This is your talisman, Queen Yani. Mama Wati has marked you as one of her own. When the time comes these markings will reveal their true intent. Walk out of this womb of the world with your purpose intact."

Yani clutched the oracle's hands.

"I heard a voice come out of you…a young voice…a child."

"I can only transmit, not translate what is for your ears only, kumkanikazi," Nolwandle said.

Yani's lips turned down in disappointment.

"It was our baby," N'Jadaka said.

He stroked Yani's hand. She stared at him.

"My parents came to me after their funeral ceremony…that time I was late coming to the repast at your lake front home…when we were apart. My mom said I had a child coming that I had to show a lot of grace to because she would need it. I felt the energy in that voice when I heard it, Yani. That was our child…speaking to us."

Yani trembled and lowered her head, the knowledge unnerving her. To hear her baby's voice before she was even planted in her womb or even born yet astounded her. The child called to her.

I soon come.

Yani slumped into N'Jadaka's arms and cried. All her fear and worry about the journey to Warrior Falls jolted her emotions. His parents loved her. Watched over her and their grandbabies. His great-grandmother knew who she was and came to bear witness in defiance of a deity. She wept and her husband held her in his warmth and understanding.

N'Jadaka tied the robe back around her and guided Yani away from the oracle. Her wrist felt a little tender, but the pool water helped her endure the slight discomfort longer.

"You go through first," N'Jadaka said when they reached the dark passageway again.

Yani walked through with assured steps. She was proud that she completed her task. Even prouder that N'Jadaka's amazing mother reached out for her, trusting that Yani would heed her words one hundred per cent without hesitation. She waited for the king to join her out of the passageway and they met Okoye and Ayo waiting for them with the three women emissaries.

"Thank you, Jabulile, Khanyisile and Nolwazi," Yani said.

The three woman bowed low to her and N'Jadaka. They passed through to the outside and the two Uyakhusela's greeted them.

"Peaceful journeys to you both," the men said in unison.

The Doras walked ahead of them and N'Jadaka clasped Yani's hand tight and kept them in one spot out of earshot of their security. He exhales softly.

"I'm blessed and happy you got to see them…speak to them."

"Is Bast furious?" Yani said, ready to shrink back into the forest if the goddess set a bush on fire or struck her down with a plague.

N'Jadaka touched his chest and closed his eyes.

"Displeased. But not with you. Mama Wati is her daughter and they have to deal with their family squabbles on that side of the spiritual plane," he joked.

He touched her wrist and looked it over.

"Does it hurt when I touch it?"

"Not as much as before."

"Crazy girl," he teased

He tapped his kimoyo beads.

"Aneka, come get us. You have my coordinates," he said.

"Dr. Chidubem will be arriving soon," Aneka said.

"We'll meet him halfway," he said.

N'Jadaka brought Yani to an open clearing and the Royal Talon Fighter lifted them up high into air. They flew for an hour and stopped halfway to their destination when a quad stinger arrived ferrying Dr. Chidubem to them. He took Yani to the back of the Talon Fighter and injected her wrist with nano bots that stitched her fractured wrist back together. She swallowed painkillers to dull down a fading ache. Dr. Chidubem's short graying locs reminded Yani of Baba Z.

"You'll be good as new in no time Queen Yani."

"It wasn't as bad as I thought," she said.

"Hairline fracture."

They thanked the doctor and bid him farewell after he pumped Yani full of vitamins and electrolytes for good measure. It didn't take long to get back to Umbono Lake and their peaceful houseboat.

Alone once more, N'Jadaka pampered Yani, feeding her a hearty lunch and insisting that she rest after a long warm shower. He rubbed almond oil on her scalp and slathered fresh cocoa and coffee butter all over her naked form, paying special attention to the new markings on her belly. She slipped on a bikini afterward.

"That paint is like ink," Yani said, rubbing her shiny belly.

N'Jadaka made them tea and snuggled with her in their loft bed. The boat gently rocked with the small wind currents. Intense relief rested her husband's body as he held her against him tight. He had been frightened without her being with him. That man could face any evil killer or terrorist without blinking an eye, but not having her near was his only true weakness.

She caressed his face.

"We heard our baby," she said.

His eyes glinted with unshed tears.

"We did," he said.

"We'll have to prepare—"

N'Jadaka took his index finger and held it over Yani's lips.

"I don't want you thinking about anything but getting well and resting. We have a honeymoon to enjoy and I want to live it up without prepping for another baby."

"What? This coming from the man who gets aroused simply thinking about putting a baby in me every time we make love?"

N'Jadaka gave a sly cheesy grin.

"Yeah…I want to make another baby…but…actually hearing the voice of my future daughter reminds me that we'll have four kids to raise. Thinking of it as a hypothetical was cool, but shit switches up when you hear your child's voice. Damn…like my daughter spoke to me. Half of her is still in my nutsack and the other half is still in your ovary…that shit is crazy. Yo, Ma…the fuck? We livin' in wild times girl."

N'Jadaka laughed and his eyes became shiny with the wonderment of it all.

Yani's gaze darted away from N'Jadaka's well-meaning focus. She saw things through the oracle that regular people would never experience. Gods, ancestors, and spiritual realms could come and go in her new world. She heard the voice of her baby, and the unborn child sounded confident and sure. A little girl, too. A girl who would grow up loved beyond measure by her parents and siblings. Something had to be very special about her if Mama Wati permitted her to speak to them from the other side. And just maybe, it was the reason Califia felt it so urgent to seek out Yani without Bast's permission.

Was this how Mary felt when the archangel came to her and said she would birth Jesus?

Yani shook her head at the sacrilege she skirted with her heavy Christian upbringing. Who was she to compare her unborn baby to Jesus. Thee Jesus from the bible.

And yet…

A goddess came for her and opened up a holy realm for Yani to speak to the dead and to also hear an unborn baby. This was the stuff that prophets wrote in holy scripture. Was she not a child of Mama Wati? Wasn't that what the oracle said?

God put her on the path to have that baby with N'Jadaka.

Yani stared out of the window at the water. A slight pressure on the back of her head toggled something loose in the deepest recesses of her mind.

She remembered two things from Califia. Two things Mama Wati hid from Bast in Yani's mind to keep it from totally slipping away.

Prophecy.

And a name.

Namor.

Yani put everything together quickly. Their unborn daughter had to be fulfilling a prophecy Califia had come to tell her about. But the name? Namor. It felt familiar in Yani's gut, and it most definitely gave her a shudder throughout her body thinking about it. A residual reminder of its importance maybe…or a warning. Something hidden and sticky in her mind would not let her forget that name. It sat on her tongue inside a tightly closed mouth. If she just mentioned the name to N'Jadaka, maybe he could help her figure out the meaning of it. N'Jadaka stroked her cheek.

"I can see you fretting about something from the cave," he said.

She nodded, knowing she could never hide anything from him. Not even her private thoughts. Her emotions welled up deep inside. She witnessed a profound gift and it still lingered over her.

"Baby…don't cry. That shit messes me up when you do."

Her lips trembled and she shut her eyes tight.

"Your mother was so beautiful. And your Dad…he was so sweet and kind, so royal…and your Nana…she loves you all over," Yani said.

N'Jadaka broke out into a delighted smile, even as happy tears leaked from his eyes.

"I'm happy for you, Yani. I wished they could be here to meet you, and Mama Wati made it happen. A part of me even thinks Bast let it happen because, trust me baby, Bast does not play."

"She seemed so angry to me."

"Or maybe she needed you to feel that anger out of love to leave well enough alone. This world we live in now, nothing is ever what it seems on first glance. All of this was your journey Yani. Do with it what you want."

"I remember only two things your mother told me. I want to say them to you. If you don't want to hear them because Bast may act out, I'll respect your choice."

N'Jadaka gathered his own thoughts by gazing out at the water.

"My mother told me I was going to live a long and glorious life. That means that you and our children are with me because that is my blessing. Nothing can change that if she said it," he said.

Yani rose from lying on his chest and held his hands in hers.

"Do you want to know the words and what I think they mean?" she asked.

"Tell me."

"Prophecy. I think our daughter is going to fulfill the prophecy of the River Tribe. It only makes sense as to why Califia would do what she did to speak to me. She wanted us to get ready for her. That baby has to be special, destined for some greater purpose in the future."

"I'm down with that. Mom did ask me to be ready for her before."

"Okay…the next thing. Namor."

Yani studied her husband's face carefully. His eyes seemed to bulge in their sockets when she said it, and his entire frame went rigid.

"You know that name," Yani said.

"My mother said, Namor?"

"Yes."

N'Jadaka stared through Yani as if he was watching something of great importance play out.

"Who is that person?"

"A mutant I met some time ago. A dangerous person who rules an empire under the sea," he said.

The word "empire" tipped something in Yani's mind, but it shambled away before she could hold it for closer introspection.

"I think those two things are connected somehow. I wish Bast hadn't wiped everything away in my head."

N'Jadaka stood and cracked his knuckles. His concentration lingered outside. The sky was a beautiful azure with not a cloud in sight. He glanced back at Yani.

"Namor's name can't be spoken outside of us, Yani. I'm upholding an agreement that King T'Chaka made with him thirty years ago."

"You've met him?"

"I have. He looks human, but he has wings on his feet and flies. His strength is ten times of any human and he can breathe underwater and on land. He and his people have killed thousands to keep their existence hidden. They also have vibranium."

Yani jumped off the bed.

"How?" Yani asked.

N'Jadaka sat back down on the bed and Yani planted herself next to him.

"Well, it fell from the sky. Apparently a chunk of it broke off hitting our atmosphere and some of it landed in the ocean near where he is from. They call themselves the Talokanil. Namor's true name is K'uk'ulkan. It means Feather Serpent God in their language. He and his people have powers that…well, just imagine every person in Wakanda having the powers of the Black Panther. That's how powerful they are. We don't even know how many of his people live down there. I've got enough problems dealing with motherfuckers on land, I don't need no shit starting with an unknown entity like that. Hell, there might be more mutants down there with him."

"That's it then. That's what your mother wanted me to know. Namor and our baby are tied together somehow."

"I hope to Bast they aren't. We don't need that smoke coming our way. Humans I can deal with. I've whooped alien ass and plenty of warlords…but Namor. I will continue to act like he doesn't exist."

He wiped the creases in her forehead away.

"Don't worry your pretty head about nothing Yani. We make the future we want, especially with that new little one waiting on us," he said.

He sounded confident. Yani believed him. He rested the side of his face against hers.

"If my mom is aware of Namor then I will be vigilant in keeping him far from Wakanda. Nothing can harm us if my mother and great-grandmother are looking out for us."

Yani touched her stomach. She and N'Jadaka traced their fingers on the colorful blue and green designs.

"How about we call the three munchkins we already have?" he suggested.

Yani tapped her beads quickly, yearning to see her royal brood. She leaned into her husband before the children's images popped above her wrist.

"I'm truly so sorry I scared you," she said.

"It's over and done with. I have you back. We're good, Yani."

"Hi Mama! Hi Baba! Look how Auntie Twyla did my hair today," Sydette said, twirling around showing off her artfully braided hair.

"She did mine too!" Joba chimed in, touching the braided tips of her long tresses.

"Looks nice, girls," N'Jadaka said.

Riki stared at them with a grumpy look on his face. His hair was braided in the same style as Joba's and Sydette's.

"You don't like your cornrows, Dumpling?" Yani asked.

"Auntie always does our hair all the same. A prince should have a different style," Riki grumbled.

Sydette ran her fingers over his hair that touched down to his shoulder blades.

"It's getting so long and he's mad because his friends said he looks like a princess," Sydette teased.

Riki rolled his eyes.

"I like your hair long, Dumpling," Yani insisted.

"Baba's hair is long too," Joba said, trying to encourage her brother to like his braids.

"Mama, what's that on your stomach?" Sydette asked.

Yani looked past her bikini top, forgetting she was resting in a swimsuit.

"I'm trying out some body art," Yani said.

Sydette looked at Yani's stomach and then waved her hand at Joba and Riki.

"Go get your sketch pads…you both left them on the desk," Sydette said.

Joba and Riki scampered off and returned holding up their separate sketch pads.

"Mama, look," Joba said, "your body art looks like this," Joba said.

"And this," Riki said with surprise in his voice.

Yani and N'Jadaka looked at the pictures closely, then stared at one another.

"When did you make those?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Yesterday," Joba said.

"Before we went to Umama's suite," Riki added.

Joba's picture, drawn with the careful flourishes she was known for doodling when designing her fairy garden looks, was an exact match of Yani's blue body waves. Riki's drawing was close to a perfect match of the green swirls of the outer ring.

"Have you drawn anything like that before?" N'Jadaka asked them.

"Is something wrong?" Joba asked, sensing the odd tone of her father's voice.

"No, I'm just amazed that you both created something like this so similar to Mama's marking."

"The green lady showed us how to do it," Riki said, looking over his own design on his mother's belly.

"The green lady?" Yani asked.

"Yes, Umama took us to the museum yesterday," Joba said, "We had our sketch books with us. Riki and I saw her sitting on the floor in front of a painting we were trying to copy with our new art pens, and she showed us how to make this instead," Joba said.

"Why do you call her the green lady?" N'Jadaka asked.

Joba shrugged. "She had on all green…and her eyes were kinda green too. She said that the waves and swirls are symbols used to represent the ocean in Birnin S'Yan…that was the painting we were trying to copy. It had a big ocean wave. Umama wanted us to see it since it's a very famous painting in Birnin Zana. It's called "The Mother of Waters" and was made in 1546. See?"

Joba swiped the image of the oil painting for her parents to see.

"Holy Bast," N'Jadaka said.

Yani covered her mouth. She recognized the wave. It looked exactly like the one that rolled into Warrior Falls. The one that brought the water barrier and allowed Califia to see them.

"Well, that is some amazing work you two. Sydette did you sketch anything?" Yani said, trying to move the conversation elsewhere. Riki and Joba began to look concerned about their sketches and the way their parents looked at them.

"No, I was trying my hand at photography. Umama let me wander and practice lighting and shadow techniques. She was my subject for most of my pictures. I have some very nice ones she wants to frame."

"That's super cool, Sweet Pea," N'Jadaka said.

"Can't wait to see you all," Yani said.

"Will we get to wear body art too?" Sydette asked.

"Maybe," Yani said.

"We'll call you guys back in a couple of days, okay?" N'Jadaka said.

All three children nodded and blew their parents kisses before winking out. Yani stood in front of N'Jadaka.

"It had to be an avatar. There's no way the oracle could've been in Birnin Zana yesterday. Sydette didn't say that she saw anyone and no Dora would let a stranger approach our children like that," Yani said.

"I wouldn't put it past my mother to try and reach our children. They were meant to know these symbols too."

"They didn't seem scared at all."

"Not until they read our body language and the tone of our voices," he said.

N'Jadaka pulled back the covers and helped her get into bed once more.

"More rest for you," he said.

"Everything will be okay, won't it?"

"It will, baby...it will. No god would bring us this far and let us lose what we have now."

Yani accepted his doting on her for the rest of the night. She closed her eyes and knew she could face anything with Califia Stevens Udaku in their corner from the ancestral plane. Tucking Namor into a faraway nook in her memory bank, the Queen of Wakanda slumbered well.

And so did her husband.

Chapter 12 HERE.

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