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anki-of-beleriand · 6 months ago

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A heart Made of Glass ch.12

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, this chapter had some tricks in it that are surronding Reader and Wanda, this is their story and this time around Reader would need to make the right decision if she wants to get what she wants and what she needs.

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

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

Chapter 12

In a different world

The universe started with a spark of bright golden light.

Loki Odinson had seen it several times, he had witnessed the birth and death of multiple universes and timelines that were destined to perish in a myriad of colours that would soon be forgotten. He had sat on the throne, and while he was not a King himself, he could recall the faces of all of those poor souls that disappeared into the nothingness, just as he could remember the beauty behind the first spark of life.

However, what he was experimenting right now was nothing like it.

Whatever, or whoever had decided to intervene had messed up with his own spell and everything had exploded into nothingness. A single spark of red, green and golden then, nothingness. Black spaces that disappeared without any traces left behind.

Loki started at the empty space that was Wanda and Y/N’s basement before he sighed. He sat down shaking his head, a headache approaching just as he thought on the oncoming conversation he would need to sustain with the Avengers.

“Fuck.” The word rolled out of his lips in such a natural way, he could do nothing but leaned back against the wall.

What the hell just happened?

What did he do?

What did Wanda and Y/N do to get this reaction?

The silence soon became deafening, Loki located the book Strange had died trying to recover. He frowned while leaning over to pick it up, the spell was done correctly with all the right wording as well as the right drawings on the ground. So, why did it go wrong? His eyes scanned the pages, re-reading the passages over and over until his heart dropped at one particular line, something he had overlooked the very first time he read that passage.

“…this, however, may be counterproductive if there is a magical or multiversal energy interference, the amount of energy converging at one point may created an unexpected result and…”

Loki knew the rest by heart, he knew there could be troubles but…well, how many energies were involved in the spell? He had counted on those signatures coming from Wanda and Y/N, he had even counted on his but…was there anybody else out there? Was there anybody else at the other side of the multiverse?

“Shit.” Loki stood up fixing up his clothes before flickering his hand to open a portal. He needed to face the consequences of his acts, and the first stop would be the Avengers Tower and Steve Roger’s office.

The former Captain America was going to enjoy telling Loki ‘I told you so’, just before hitting him in the face.

With one last glance to the basement, Loki turned around and left the place.

He never worried to test the energy fields around, or to tap into the timelines flickering in front of his eyes. It never occurred to him that, as soon as the explosion happened, a new singular timeline appeared right before his eyes just to blend itself with the other timelines flickering in front of Loki.

No one but the Watcher could see it, The Watcher stood in the sidelines furrowing his brows and waiting.

The world would either collapse in itself, or it would fix the anomalies by itself.

Either way, he was watching history, and the future of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

_________________________________________

Darkness had always been your friend.

You were born in it, and it had been your weapon and your refugee in the hardest of times. That was the main reason you didn’t panic at first, everything around you was filled with the purest form of darkness with a single touch of coldness that sneaked inside your clothes. The hairs on your arms stood up, a shiver went right through your muscles making you groan as you finally experience the pain in your body.

Your mouth opened inhaling deeply filling your lungs with gusts of cold air, your chest contracting itself just before you started coughing. It was then you opened your eyes, and the darkness that you had experienced moments ago was nothing but you woke up from unconsciousness.

The first thing you noticed were different white dots in the sky winking back at you. You tried to grasp a single thought, seeking around your mind for a coherent idea but it was almost impossible to do so when the rest of your body was finally receiving different stimulus in the way of pain and coldness.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called to your left, you tried to sit up but a single hand placed itself on your shoulder pressing you to the ground.

“Ease there, pal, you were really hurt back there.”

Even if you didn’t get a chance to sit up, your world started spinning around. The voice was so familiar, yet so different to what you were used to; with some reluctance you turned your face to the right and soon you found yourself looking at yourself.

The other woman offered a tentative smile, though the way she was squinting her eyes and the pursed of her lips told you she was just as confused as you were at the moment. Soft footsteps approached you, America Chavez was wearing a single cut on her cheek and a bruised eye, this time around you didn’t let you counterpart to stop you, you sat up to check over the teen kneeling beside you.

“America, are you alright?” Your eyes rolled back for a moment, your knees fell harshly on the ground while you held yourself with a single hand placed on your leg.

“Y/N, please…” America winced lightly glancing at you then at your counterpart. “I think you were the one that suffered the most…”

“It was my fault, actually. So, sorry?”

You blinked a couple of times, shaking your head made the headache worse and the dizziness settled on your lower abdomen. You lifted your face blinking a couple of times before checking America over, the young woman softened her features with her cheeks colouring pink while her lips tried to offer a single smile. You tried to ignore the other Y/N for as long as you could before turning around to settle your eyes on her.

Just like America, she was wearing a single cut on her forehead with her clothes dishevelled but otherwise nothing else. With some reluctance you lifted your eyes looking deep into those eyes that you knew so well.

“This is the weirdest shit I have ever had to live to date.” You finally said shaking your head, “I hope it is the last weird shit ever.”

“Agreed.” Y/N tilted her head furrowing her brows while giving you a quick glance. “Before this happened, I’m afraid I was in your body fighting with someone that got lucky…so…”

“So, that’s why I feel like this?” You cracked smile, your counterpart nodded mirroring the smile on your face. “Okay, got it, so…what the hell is going on?”

America and Y/N glanced at one another then at you, it wasn’t until then that you decided to take a good look at the surrounding area. The place in itself was nothing strange, yet you got a feeling that this was not your universe or even that of your counterpart.

The sky was completely dark filled stars but as you got to observe them above your head you realized there were not your stars. The constellations you had come to know thanks to Natasha and Carol had been changed and were replaced by different forms you did not recognize. With a single frown you lowered your eyes to find yourself in a plain of land filled with dried grass that extended beyond what the eyes could see. It was an empty land, with nothing beyond the darkness of the night without any moon it was hard to actually see something that could give you an idea of your location.

The sound of whistling called your attention, and soon you found yourself being wrapped tightly by two pair of arms. Before you could protest or ask what they were doing, you experience the sharp bite of wind, A cold, merciless breeze that soon turned into a whirlwind that left as suddenly as it had come.

“Wh-what the hell?” Your eyes opened wide, your teeth chattering while America and Y/N leaned back wincing.

“We need to move.”

You furrowed your brows shaking your head, “move where? I can barely see you two, how are we going to see the path or…where the hell are we?”

America sighed standing up, she stretched her hand to you offering a tender smile.

“You haven’t figured it out?”

You stood on weakened legs, your mouth opened ready to protest until you finally realised it. While it was true there was nothing much to see beyond the darkness and the starry night, you could see America and your counterpart just fine. It took you but a few minutes until, you lifted your hand and the shadows followed you giving you a good glance of what was around you.

“We can manipulate shadows, the night in itself is darkness and filled with the main source of our power.” Y/N stated matter-of-factly while standing before you, you nodded curtly feeling foolish for not even thinking about it.

“Are you guys going to tell me what’s going on?”

America grabbed your hand, then turning to Y/N she shrugged also grabbing her hand as well.

“We may as well update her while we continue walking.”

“We saw lights coming from what we think was a village a few kilometres away, were trying to get there until these weird whirlwinds came in and we couldn’t carry you anymore.” Y/N explained shrugging. “We’re guessing once we get to some sort of place filled with civilization we will know more…”

“Why didn’t you try to travel through the shadows?” You asked ready to do so when the warning tone from your own voice stopped you.

“I couldn’t do it without leaving America here, and I have a bad feeling as soon as I tried it…so…” Y/N shrugged looking ahead of her, “I always follow my instincts, they have never failed me.”

The comment sent a sharp pain straight to your heart.

Your instincts had never failed you either.

Nothing else was said after this, the three of you were following the direction America had pointed out but you were just lost not really knowing if this was the right path or just a wild guess. The temperature was dropping even more, soon your teeth were chattering alongside those of America and the other you. You felt a sharp pain through your head, whatever had happened before you woke up had left your body quite bruised and right now all you wanted was to find a bed, an analgesic and something to eat. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought came forward in the form of Wanda, panic rose through your chest and filled your mind but before you could ask anything about her your counterpart spoke.

“I still don’t understand how everything came to be,” she spoke with a tone of voice you were familiar with, you let your eyes wandered around the landscape holding onto every word resounding into the darkness of the night.”

“I remembered when Wanda and I saved America the first time, and then trying to safe her from these creatures chasing her down.” Y/N trailed off with her memories making her falter, with a single shake of her head she continued, “I know I was out for a while, so you can guess how surprised I was to wake up in the arms of someone that wasn’t my wife…”

“Not really.” Your reply was filled with coldness, tension building up in your body, “I have always had the luxury of waking up alone in my bed.”

America winced lifting her head to glance at you, her dark eyes begging you to listen before jumping in whatever discussion you wanted to start.

“Agatha Harkness.” The name reached the inside of your mind with the memory of the file you read on her, not only that, but also the different videos you saw surrounding her story inside of Wanda’s world.

“That was the woman you woke up to every day, Y/N.” America chimed in shyly, she lowered her gaze squeezing your hand tenderly. “She had been dragging Scarlet and Wanda around, draining them of their powers and leaving them defenceless for quite some time, and since…well, since Y/N was under her spell…”

You opened your mouth to speak, you wanted to say something but finding your counterpart’s eyes on you whatever argument you had built inside your mind came crumbling down and soon you were given their side of their story. Little by little the story started making sense, the building of a different world and the intrusive dreams you were having in the last couple of weeks, the purple and red magic surrounding you on that day as well as the mixed-up realities that ended up with you thrown into another’s body. You had always known that Wanda was special, and powerful, you never imagined just how much.

America had been a part of the plan, of course. Her powers would be very beneficial to someone like Agatha, and your powers would make sure no one would ever find her. Everything was about the most basic reason of all: Power. You pursed your lips disgusted; you were dragged into a confrontation with Wanda because there was a woman chasing after power. You had been running from Wanda for more than ten years, and all it took was this woman to ruin everything.

And now, now you were walking down the darkness of the night with a girl that could travel through different universes and your counterpart, a woman that got the life you had dreamt of a long time ago.

“Life is not fair.” Y/N stated glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but it is what we have, and we must…”

“…deal with it, take what it is being offered and try to be happy with it.” You finished shaking your head.

“Ah, so not everything is lost, I see.” Y/N allowed a single smile to break on her face, you pursed your lips snorting.

“You don’t know the story.”

“But she does, that’s why she told you those very same words, didn’t she?” Your counterpart stopped all of a sudden, you let out a heavy sigh before turning to face her.

America was standing in between the both of you, her brows knitted together with her gaze travelling around the terrain before settling on the both of you.

“Look, I know that you and Wanda had a different experience than mine, I’m glad you did because…” You trailed off holding onto your emotions, “I don’t wish on you the pain I went through…”

For the very first time ever you saw your own face breaking into a broken-hearted smile, with those eyes losing all light and those lips curving into a crooked smile. It was you looking back, and you understood right there and then that you weren’t the only one.

“You forgive her?” You asked with a hint of hope in your voice, you hated how the question left your lips and how your counterpart understood what you meant.

“How could I not if my heart beats for her?” She replied clenching her eyes closed, her hands rested upon your shoulders before you found yourself looking into your eyes. “There is a difference, though, isn’t it?”

“You guys were not together…” You started but she merely tilted her head.

“You know it wouldn’t matter if we were a couple or not, she chose someone else when we have always chosen her.” Y/N squeezed your shoulders lightly. “The difference is that I gave her a chance because I want to do so, you didn’t because…”

“I don’t believe in second chances! If I have done so she would have broken my heart all over again when she went into her imaginary world with Vision!” You exclaimed enraged, surprising Y/N and America.

The other woman furrowed her brows, she was ready to argue back with you and asked questions about the imaginary world. It was quite evident a lot of things had happened in this strange world and Y/N could only imagine the pain and rage engulfing your heart at the moment.

America could see darkness surrounding the three of you her eyes opening wide almost losing into the shadows until her eyes caught glimpses of red and purple right ahead.

“Guys?” America stuttered lifting her hand and pointing to the distance.

You two stopped your discussion turning around to see the same sparkles of red and purple. It was a formation of dusty colouring breaking into the darkness of the night sky, you turned to the left to see Y/N frowning with determination and America shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“It’s not that far away, I mean it could be at least one kilometre?” Y/N faced you holding onto the previous tension of your conversation with her, you clenched your fist shrugging.

“Looks that way.”

“Are we…” America started but you lifted a hand to silence her.

“Before we jump in to do something I think we need more information, we don’t even know what we are going to find over there.” You looked out of the corner of your eyes; the lights were still gleaming pretty much intensely but you could tell your two companions didn’t want to stay still and do any planning.

“What do you propose?” Y/N asked lifting her chin, “you know pretty well those sparks of crimson are Wanda’s, and we know this woman, this Agatha has been using purple magic. Are you really suggesting we stand here or keep walking in circles?”

“No! All I am asking is to first think about what we are going to do! We’re not even sure where we are much less what we are going to find there.” You asked back lifting your hands in the air and stepping back, the pain you had forgotten in favour of the discussion came back making you winced.

“Look I know you guys think the world of Wanda, and that’s cool, I guess your Wanda,” this time around you pointed to your counterpart trying to remain calm, “she is all love and kindness and that’s fine. The Wanda in world had a total breakdown that enslaved a bunch of people in a reality she created for herself and that microwave she called husband, so forgive me if I’m not going to jump in without any additional information.”

Your tirade echoed through the night, your voice carried by the wind with a dropped in the temperature. The moon that had been travelling with the three of you flickered all of a sudden, and the darkness grew around the three of you. America didn’t miss the flickering lights of crimson and purple, but she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing your hand in hers, the warm she shared with you made you shivered and with some reluctance you lower you stare to her. Even in such a darkness you could see her brown eyes gleaming with emotions.

“You still love her.” America mumbled squeezing your hand tenderly.

You clenched your jaw tilting your head to the side, America bit her lower lip glancing from you to Y/N.

“I don’t know why this has to be so complicated, but she needs you.” America took a deep breath stepping closer to you. “Wanda is sad, and I know she messed up and that forgiveness should not be given just because you feel that way. But she really needs you, she and Scarlet.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened between the both of you.” Y/N stepped in making sure you could not look away from your own eyes. “But the woman I love is out there, being it in this dimension or another Wanda Maximoff would always be MY Wanda and I won’t leave her out there to get hurt. If not for you, then at least do it for me.”

It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness and coldness that your heart finally gave in. With a nod, your dropped your shoulders in defeat missing the smile coming from America but never missing the satisfied glance coming from your counterpart. The three of you finally turned to the source of the magic, and without a simple plan you three started making your way to the source.

You were not prepared for what was waiting for you over there.

Agatha Harkness smirked at the woman kneeling before her.

In less than a year she had made it possible to crumble away the legend of the Scarlet Witch while placing herself as the most powerful witch in the multiverse. Her smile never faltered, not even when the world spined around changing into a familiar setting; a place and time Agatha had suffered before but that now she could alter with a single flicker of her hand.

The place was filled with passersby ignoring the presence of the two women; nobody seemed to care that one of them was on her knees with a single neck shackle made of light red and blue tied to a crimson necklace Agatha wore on her chest.

“What do you think about this arrangement, dear?” The dark-haired woman asked, her eyes dropping to the kneeling Wanda who was shooting her a stare filled with anger. “Personally, I think this could be more lively, but don't worry soon enough we will have a show to die for.”

Her laughter was accompanied by a flash of violet, and soon the scene changed and they were transferred to a great marketplace located at the centre of the village. Everyone had reunited around four pillared pyres that were guarded by at least ten knights all dressed in black.

Wanda lifted her face, her ears twitched hearing the sound of angry screams cursing someone she couldn't make out yet. Agatha stirred in excitement; her smile grew until it was a crooked grin with just a hint of madness behind it.

“Here they come…”

The crowd spread around just as four figures came in walking on naked feet wearing red robes and bruised faces. The hatred and fear coming from the crowd was quite evident as the torches and the pitchforks drew wild patterns above the townspeople’s heads. The light of the torches ignited the night, Wanda tensed under the grip of the woman standing beside her, the hairs on her arms raising up while her eyes narrowed to follow the events unfolding in front of her.

The four women were pushed forward, each one of them had a single knight standing behind them with heavy hands they were dragged to the four pillars tied to them facing the crowd. It didn’t take her too long to guess what was about to happen, and what exactly were those pillars; the pyres had been set up to ensure everyone could see the women died. The crowd cheered cruelly, laughing and cursing while the four women glared at the people with more bravery than they actually felt.

“This was my coven.” Agatha spat out, her hands sparkling with a mixture of red and purple, “they saw my power, they read my intentions and instead of supporting me they dared to try and stop me…”

“I wonder why.” Wanda couldn’t hold the sarcasm behind her voice, Agatha pulled harshly on the ropes holding her neck making Wanda fall on her back.

“You really are more daring than your counterparts, dear. I would be careful, if I were to be honest I don’t need you alive.”

Agatha caressed the necklace smirking at Wanda, the woman couldn’t hide her anger and the magic that was pulsating inside her was not enough to protect her from Agatha’s anger. Soon Wanda let out a scream of pain, her body twitching painfully until he couldn’t keep her eyes open and all she could think about was the searing pain on her limbs.

“It has been so long since I was just a lowly witch like them, afraid of fire and the angry crowd. I grew to be magnificent, to have power beyond anyone’s imagination…” Agatha continued with his rambling observing with gleaming eyes as the Major of the town stood forward proclaiming the sins of the four women.

“I just had to find you, Wanda, you and that so-called Scarlet Witch.” Wanda took a deep breath, half hearing the woman while watching with horror as the night above her head flickered from one setting to another.

“It was not easy, you know?”

Agatha flickered her hand to the right and soon Wanda was on her knees watching as the world around her changed. It was like watching a movie in a dome. The world changed to day and night flickering images of Agatha dragging her burnt body through the ground whispering spells that only she could hear. The image soon changed showing the passing of time, Agatha looking around the world and stealing the magic of others while seeking something out of desperation.

She finally found it after more than a century.

Wanda opened her eyes at the familiar setting, Kamar Taj stood under stormy winds and heavy snow. Agatha sneaked around, distracting the inhabitants of the temple by provoking landslides that would certainly have killed innocent people if it hadn’t been by the protectors of the temple. She had enough time to steal a single book.

“Y-you…you stole the..th-e…the Drakhold.” Wanda leaned forward resting her hands on the ground, she was shocked to find the snow under her hands was real and that everything she was seeing was not an illusion but a real event.

Her mind was trying to comprehend what was really happening. Her knowledge of the Darkhold had not been as broad as it had been for Strange and even Loki. But she did know one thing or two about the origins of her powers, Chaos Magic had been called and it gave her the power to bend reality and life in ways not many could access to. The darkness inside her had been contained by her family and her loved ones, but the same could not be said by others, apparently.

“I did.” Agatha finally answered tilting her head, soon the scene changed and they were taken to a place Wanda was familiar with.

Westview.

“Yet, I was still not strong enough, or the only one with powers beyond our imaginations.” Agatha made a face, stepping forward strolling down the streets with Wanda following her. “When the Avengers showed up it was quite evident that people with powers could no longer be hidden. It was my time to shine until you, my dear Wanda, showed up.”

Wanda saw herself in a building in Sokovia, it was a place she was familiar with yet the story that was unfolding in front of her had nothing to do with what she had lived once. Her other self struggled to control her powers, to live her life, to be who she was supposed to be but failed every single time. Agatha had never been too far from those events, and whenever Wanda failed, Agatha would clutch the young woman closer to her. The red and purple magic intertwined without anyone noticing.

“What did you do?” Wanda asked, finding herself in the middle of the square in Westview. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining right above their heads and not a single cloud in sight.

Agatha smirked, her eyes changing colours to one of deep crimson, “I finally became who I am supposed to be, and soon my dear I will have all the power to bend the universes at my will. And now, I will finish what I started all those months ago with your pathetic counterpart and you will help me out with this.”

The world suddenly exploded around them, Wanda clenched her jaw closed, lifting her eyes to the sky to see the runes above her head.

“You…” She gritted her teeth, her eyes closing right away trying to gather her thoughts and power to stop the woman standing beside her.

Agatha chuckled darkly, her gripped on Wanda tightened allowing the influx of memories to invade the mind of the redhead. It was a life she was no familiar with, a suffering she had not experiment in the same way but that generate in her an understanding of the mess this world was in. She could see the moment Agatha entered the story, the failures and the almost victories until finally she got what she wanted.

A weakened Wanda Maximoff without anyone in the world to stand by her side.

Power.

And a way to get away with her plan.

“You…you won’t win.” Wanda finally got out; her eyes gleaming dangerously at the other woman who made a face rolling her eyes.

“I already did, dear. You just haven’t realized it yet.” Agatha let go of Wanda stepping away.

The brunette straightened up lifting her arms in front of her, her hands creating a purple mist while the necklace she wore zealously around her neck gleamed with intensity. Those eyes that moment’s ago had been brown, were now a deep black and the world around Wanda trembled under the electric shift of power the witch was gathering around her.

“Now, I have all the pieces in place, in my world…under my rules.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, “I will bend everyone to my will…and you, Wanda, will be nothing but a bad memory.”

The sky above their heads changed into darkness, the temperature dropped and Wanda felt the heavy weight of the atmosphere overwhelming her. She could sense her counterpart weakening inside the prison Agatha had chosen for her, her thoughts were still a mixture of memories she couldn’t quite place while the heavy emotions running through her soul threaten to overwhelm. Wanda could read the intentions behind the woman standing before her, she could read the hatred and violence behind those dark eyes. Lifting her chin to the sky, and her eyes showing off her own magic she decided if this was going to be her end, she would face it with defiance.

The ball of energy flickered in Agatha’s hand, the world stood still and the with smirked ready to give the final blow.

Agatha was so concentrated in her final goal, she never noticed she was no longer alone and what she though was illusions of her own invention were actually three people she didn’t think would be a problem until one of them stood right in front of her shielding Wanda from an imminent dead.

You had crossed the protective barrier around the strange town with a single thought in mind. Your intention was to get this over with and go back to your life on Norway, your heart beating fast while your mind protest for the easiness in which you were trying to go back to a life in which you were ignoring the woman that had never left your heart. It looked easy, just do your thing and then fixed whatever mess you were in and then…go back.

But the universe and the Powers That Be decided that it wouldn’t be just as easy as a flickered of your hand.

As soon as the three of you crossed the barrier you were face to face with flashes of memories that presented you with a film of the lives of Wanda and Agatha. The stories of the coven and the search for power, as well as the fall of Sokovia and Wanda’s struggles with her powers and her life.

“This is so wrong.” Y/N stated clenching her fist while stepping forward until she was finally standing beside you, the both of you stood on an empty street hearing the sounds of muffled conversation.

“Any plan?” You finally stated ignoring the piercing pain in your heart, your counterpart shrugged nodding to the darkened street that was flashing a mixture of red and purple.

“I think the best approach is a straightforward one.”

“Humph, so go there and just start fighting?” You replied with your lips breaking into a single smirk.

“Yep, pretty much.”

“That doesn’t sound like a solid plan.” America mumbled unsure, she furrowed her brows turning to you and then to your counterpart.

You turned to America placing a hand on her shoulder, “but it is what we have. You are going to stay here and wait.”

“But…I can fight! I can help!” America stepped back frowning, “I won’t be left behind…”

“I know you can fight, kiddo.” You replied tilting your head, “and that’s why you are staying behind.”

America opened her mouth to protest but Y/N came forth shaking her head.

“You are our backup, America. If anything were to happen to us and Wanda…” Y/N stated dropping her gaze for a moment, she turned to you until finally she locked eyes with America. “You need to do anything you can to ensure Agatha won’t scape, you understand?”

America pursed her lips, a part of her understood the mission but another part wanted to go straight ahead and face the woman that had been chasing her through the multiverse. America clenched her fists before nodding curtly and stepping back. You offered a single smile, your hand squeezing comfortingly the shoulder of the teen.

“There would be time, America, for now just watch our backs.”

“I will.”

“Good then, let’s go.”

You nodded curtly allowing your powers to spread in front of you, there was resistance when trying to reach the shadows and for the very first time you understood what your counterpart meant about your instinct. Everything in your body was screaming danger as soon as you came into contact with the shadows, your body shivered under the piercing weight of a million needles. You clenched your jaw closed stepping into the shadows with a single thought in mind.

Wanda.

Without any hesitation and moving through the invisible obstacles in that universe you appeared right before Wanda and Agatha just in time. Your eyes went black with your right arm lifting in front of you and creating a protective barrier just as Agatha’s hand came into contact with your shadows.

There was a flickering of power, the older woman snarled a curse lifting her left arm in the same fashion and launching a second attack. Your eyes opened slightly only for your shadows to slithered away grabbing the woman’s midsection to pull her away.

The world crumbled for an instant; Agatha was completely shocked to see not only you but your counterpart standing right in front of her. The woman straightened up, sweat rolling down her forehead while her right hand closed around her necklace and her other hand summoned the Darkhold.

“You really are a pain in my behind, but at least I won’t have to go around looking for you.” Agatha stated tilting her head to the side, her annoyance giving way to a confident smile. “Now, how about the two of you are good girls and give up, I would hate to spend my time submitting you to get what I want.”

You spread your feet positioning yourself in a fighting pose, your eyes narrowing slightly while the woman in front of you got her magic ready. But before Agatha could do anything at all, another set of shadows grabbed her arms putting them back making her woman lose her grip on the necklace and the Darkhold, your body tensed when Wanda stood up behind you, her voice quivering slightly as she pronounced your name with reverence and love.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about me, Agatha dear.” Your counterpart said winking at Wanda while flickering her hands away, Agatha grunted freeing herself with a blast of energy and stepping a few feet away.

“Hn, I didn’t expect this.” She stated summoning the Darkhold, the world around the four of you changed, shaping itself in a familiar setting you had come to hate in your mind.

Westview.

Agatha never wavered in her confidence, if anything it seemed to grow the same way her magic was doing at the moment. You took a fighting stance, your shadows flickering around waiting for your command. You glanced out of the corner of your eye, Wanda had been trying to stand up but her knees and feet seemed uncooperative. Before you could offer any help, your counterpart came in wrapping her arms around Wanda while placing her forehead against Wanda’s one.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi.” Wanda replied with easiness, Y/N sighed in relief before placing a single kiss on her wife’s cheek.

“I miss you.” Y/N said softly, your heart shrank with emotion when your mind caught up with what was really happening.

You furrowed your brows, sweeping around the place until your darkened eyes fell on Agatha who was smiling playfully at you, her right hand playing absentmindedly with the necklace.

“Where is…Wanda?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda and Y/N both glanced at one another before they set their eyes on you.

A sinking feeling settled on your lower stomach, you were afraid of the answer when you realized this Wanda was trying to look everywhere but you. Tilting your head, you finally got a good look at your surroundings where the suburban houses filled out the imaginary world; the Wanda you had come to know from another universe held onto your counterpart tightly though right now her green eyes had been focusing straight ahead of you.

“Where is she? Wanda?” You asked again, this time around there was a demanding undertone that the other woman couldn’t ignore.

“Agatha has them under her control, she is using a powerful and dangerous book, Y/N.” Wanda could tell her answer was not of your liking, she stepped forward ready to join you and her wife in the fight glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes.

“You don’t know where she has Wanda?” You asked again never taking your eyes off of the older woman standing before you.

“I have my suspicions but I’m not sure how to interfere with that.” Wanda winced trying to ease out the pain on her neck, you frowned pursing your lips while taking a closer look at Agatha before your eyes found the same house you had come to know as Wanda’s place.

“Well, then let’s get this over with and get Wanda back.” Your arms stretched to the sides, the silent command spurred into action the shadows around you flying straight ahead to try and get Agatha.

Before your counterpart and the other Wanda could help you out, the creatures summoned by Agatha launched their first attack. A great explosion was heard while you evaded the flashing balls of power sent over by the witch.

The fight soon broke over, you didn’t notice it but the dome surrounding this part of the universe tremble sending waves of energy all through the world until they came into contact with the timeline and America. The young woman lifted her head, her eyes gleaming brightly as she tapped into her powers; bouncing on the balls of her feet she waited. America could hear the sound of explosions and the muffled sound of conversations and screams, she glanced at her hands thinking about the lessons she had been learning in the last couple of months. She closed her fists, opening them again before lifting her face. This people had been putting their lives on the line for her, they had been trying to protect her without expecting anything in exchanged. It was about time she helped them.

With a glance to the sky, America took a deep breath closing her eyes for a brief moment. As soon as she opened them, her lips curled into a single smile.

Time for payback.

The street had been completely destroyed during the fight.

There were no more homes standing up, or nice cosy gardens decorating the suburban setting. The world soon became a mixture of nothingness with the flickering holograms of reality that you could not touch. Agatha had learnt a thing or two since fighting with Wanda, you could see her ability to hold onto her powers while also making use of those she had stolen from your Wanda.

You shook your head hating the thoughts running around in your head, the overwhelming emotions that seemed to try and govern your decisions. You tried to focus your energy on what was right in front of you, the problem you were facing went beyond your own emotions. There would be a time for you to deal with them.

Agatha lifted her left hand above her head before letting it fall fast to her side, the sharp pain of your skin being pierce made you grunted. You could feel the wounds on your arms, your eyes igniting in a deep black that soon went right ahead to engulf the witch in front of you.

At some point, Agatha had become faster than your attacks, she stepped aside flickering her hands and soon two more creatures appeared out of nowhere.

“Is that all you got?” You asked almost losing your concentration when you heard the voice of your counterpart in the back.

“Get away from my wife!”

Agatha smirked grabbing her necklace, tilting her head she settled her eyes on you.

“Oh, dear, you would be surprised with the number of tricks I can bring on you.” Agatha stepped forward, her feet never touching the ground. “I could make your dreams come true; I can be what Wanda never was for you.”

You pressed your lips together taking into a fighting stance.

“You know nothing about my dreams, and I am certainly not looking for a replacement.”

Agatha snorted her hand gripping tightly on the necklace, soon a red mist grew from the space between her neck and chest and the world around her turned crimson. Agatha stretched out her arms and the whole world vibrate around you changing in the blink of an eye.

“Are you sure? I can tell by the pathetic way you are always looking at her, but the way you talk about her that there is nothing else you want more than her…” Agatha’s voice rose above the new scene, your eyes flickered around while your stomach dropped when you realized where she had taken you to.

For a brief moment you could make out the screams and grunts of the fight going on right outside this small world. You took a deep breath trying to get a hold of your powers ignoring the runes glowed above your head a clear sign that this was still being controlled by Agatha. You creased your brows knowing that your options were limited if the other woman decided to use her magic at its full potential. She was playing with you, leading you on and one until it was quite clear she was mocking you by placing you right in front of a memory that had broken your heart at some point.

It was playing in slow motion, the video and the room with everyone just as shocked as you were to see Wanda in the arm’s of another. The passing of time, every single moment that you had suffered the betrayal while facing your sadness alone in a world of pure darkness. Your fit closed, the shadows on your feet stirred violently sensing your anger when you heard Agatha laughing. Mocking you.

“How did it make you feel knowing she was happier with a man?” Agatha purred making sure to be as far away from you as she could. “How did it feel knowing you were never going to be chosen in this world? In this universe? I bet it pierce your soul knowing you were the one destined to be alone.”

“Shut up.”

“I can make it go away, I can help you out…say the words, and I will make sure you get what you want.”

Your knees gave under your weight, furrowing your brows you tried to close yourself to the mocking film playing around you trying to focus on the fight. Agatha chuckled tilting her head, this time around the runes above her head pulsated and the two creatures grew before your eyes attacking viciously at your counterpart and Wanda making sure that your conversation and fight with Agatha wouldn’t be interrupted. Agatha centred her eyes on you, her hand grabbing the necklace while the same video seemed to be on replay.

“She won’t be a problem for you anymore, and after I’m done with you…you won’t have to worry about the pain of your broken heart, dear.” The laughter sent shivers down your back, but it was everything you were waiting for.

Your lips curled into a smile, your right hand twirled clockwise and the shadows broke into waves catching up with the witch. Just as you had located her, ready to give her a lesson, the woman was ready to use the magic Wanda and Scarlet were giving to her to make sure the next stage of her plan could be completed.

It never happened, though.

Your attack never stopped reaching out to your objective, while Agatha tried to return the hit she was surprised by a sudden punch to her face. The punch glow white, and her body bounced back and forth until she lost the hold on the necklace, America Chavez didn’t stop there and your shadows went straight to hold onto the witch to bring her down.

Everything happened so fast, your eyes went from America to Agatha and finally to the object on the ground. The necklace bounced on the ground, and without thinking too much you went right ahead to grab it. The object was warm to the touch, you could tell by the vibrations that magic had been contained between the object and this magic could only belong to one person. You closed your hand around it, you could sense Scarlet deep inside your mind. It didn’t take you too long to recognize the woman that had been haunting your dreams as of late, right with her you could also sense Wanda trying to hide, trying to survive.

“NO!”

The scream coming from Agatha was everything you needed to drop the necklace and stomp on the piece of jewellery creating an explosion that blew you and everyone around you away.

“Humph…” Your mouth opened letting out a shaky breath, your body hurt all over while your eyes got use to the sparkling lights that appeared before them when your head hit the ground.

“Y/N!!” You tried to sit up, a pair of arms held onto you for a brief moment until you were capable of making out the figure sitting beside you.

America had her brows creased; her eyes shone with worry while she tried to hold you up. The fighting was still ringing inside your ears, your counterpart was finishing the last of the dimensional creatures while you could spot her Wanda holding back against Agatha. For a brief moment, panic rose inside you the sudden need to throw up became almost to much just as you leaned forward trying to stand up your eyes looking frantically for the women that had been haunting your dreams and reality as of late.

“They are unconscious…” America started but she could not finish her sentence as you stood up without any warning.

“Wanda…” Her name escaped your lips without meaning to, at that moment with your body exhausted and your mind already carrying the weight of so many memories and thoughts all you could do was staggered forward until you reached both women.

You stood on shaky legs glancing from Wanda to Scarlet, both of them unconscious wearing the same bags under their eyes and the bruises all over their faces and arms. You hesitated not really knowing where you should focus your attention until, as an afterthought you went to Wanda. Turning her to the side you ensure she was comfortable, her lip had a deep cut and her forehead had traces of a scratch that left her with blood and dirt. She looked thinner than you remember, with her face wearing still the same defeated expression she wore to your home all those months ago.

“Wanda.” You said her name again, this time around firmer and demanding, your hand trying to help her out until you heard her exclamation of pain. “Wanda, are you alright?”

The young woman stirred in your arms, her eyes flickering slightly until she opened her lips and let out an exclamation of pain. You put her back on the ground, turning around you could see Scarlet was stirring awake as well while the fight seemed to have no end.

“Y/N…” You turned to see Wanda’s eyes fluttering open, her green orbs looking back at you with sadness and tenderness that had your heart beating a tad bit faster.

“Hey, are you alright?” You leaned in but Wanda looked away helping herself up, you tired to assist her but your body froze for a moment unsure on how to proceed with the woman sitting before you.

“I…I am a little sore.” She replied, her eyes never leaving the form of Scarlet, Wanda furrowed her brows glancing at her hands then back at the other woman. “She…she is…Scarlet Witch.”

Her words trembled as she pronounced them, her face lowered thinking to herself knowing full well your attention was on her. She remembered the moment she had separated herself from the legend, the words of Agatha had haunted her at that moment when she realized there was something inside her giving her powers a deeper meaning. She had hated that idea, and the world that had been created out of it.

When Wanda finally dared to look up she found herself looking into your eyes. Her heart stirred with emotion, the words that wanted to pour out of her mouth entangled around her throat for she knew it was not the time for a heart-to-heart conversation. She wished everything had turned out different, but after her confrontation with Agatha and everything she had discovered whiled trapped in that reality she knew what she needed to do.

“Can you…help me up?” She asked shyly, you nodded curtly stretching your hands for her to take them.

She was cold under your touch, and a little sweaty.

Her cheeks coloured pink, and her eyes glanced everywhere but at you. You felt a piercing pain going through your chest, but you ignored it while helping the other woman up. For a brief moment, you thought she could walk on her on until Wanda’s legs trembled and almost gave up on her. You caught her just on time, her body pressing against yours making your traitorous heart stopped for a brief moment.

“How convenient, Wanda.” Scarlet was on her knees; she had sweat falling down her face breathing hard and glaring at the two of you though her eyes were completely focused on Wanda. “You…you don’t do nothing, yet you get to be with her.”

Wanda tensed in your arms, she took a deep breath while pushing you away taking one step at a time until she was standing before Scarlet. You lifted your eyes to see America just as focused on the two women as you were, the sound of the fighting was till rumbling in your ears but it was almost impossible to pay attention to something else that wasn’t the scene playing out in front of you.

Wanda held herself up, conscious of the hatred inside the eyes of Scarlet.

Inside her own eyes.

“We don’t get to be with her.” Wanda mumbled dropping her shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to make amends but I just…”

“You always failed, and you make it worse.” Scarlet spat out lifting her chin in defiance, her position on the ground was not an inconvenience. If anything, it gave her the power that Wanda couldn’t show at the moment.

“I tried to reach out to her, to make her world and mine…to…”

“I know.” Wanda offered a weakened smile, looking out of the corner of her eyes she could see you had your attention on the both of them. “I tried to do the same. I just…I can’t do it alone, and I’m tired of failing every time. I don’t…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she leaned in lifting her left hand until she was cupping Scarlet’s cheek. Red mist appeared in Wanda’s hand, and soon her eyes as much as those of Scarlet were shining brightly.

“It hurts so much.” Scarlet said letting the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just…

“I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be without her.” Wanda finally said her own tears falling down her face.

You clenched your jaw, looking away for a moment while your chest felt a myriad of butterflies fluttering inside.

“But I can’t keep fighting alone, or divided.” Wanda stated, she wiped away Scarlet’s tears before adding. “I think we need to be one, you saw just how powerful we are together and…”

“You need to fix this, or we would never…”

“I know, but this may not end the way you want it.”

Scarlet drifted her attention to you, her eyes found those of yours and in there you could read everything you had been so afraid to interpret the first time. There was pain and sadness, emotions that broke into her heart in ways you could only imagine, and then there was love. You looked away stepping back under the intensity of such a stare, you missed the broken smile on Scarlet’s face and the defeat she wore while facing Wanda again.

“I know, I think we will cope when the time for that comes.” Wanda nodded in understanding; her hands gleamed brighter than ever while Scarlet placed her hand on top of hers.

“I promised you I won’t give up.”

“Good, then let’s do this.”

The crimson mist grew around them glowing with a bright, red light making you trembled under the intensity of the magic. You could see America kneeling down, her eyes going wide open as they stare the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Wanda and Scarlet were no longer two different entities.

Standing before you was a single woman, her head was adorned with a red crown that made match with the bodice and the black leggings. Wanda stood there with magic coming from her hands, her eyes a deep shade of red that gathered the power you had always known she had in her. The woman stood still for a moment, she glanced at her body and her hands before her face lifted to stare at you.

You tried to hide your expression, your lips parting to speak but not words came out. Wanda hesitated before nodding her feet moving slowly until she turned around making her way to the fight.

“Is she gonna be okay?” America stood right beside you, squirting at the woman now using her magic to help her counterpart in the fight against Agatha.

“I think so…” You trailed off finally realizing that even though the both of them had finally become one, Wanda was still wearing the bruises and the exhaustion on her face.

“Are you okay?” America asked quite concern, you turned to her offering a half smile.

“I will be.” You sighed scratching the back of your neck. “Stay here and be careful.”

“What are you gonna do?” The teen asked slightly scare, you offered her a half smile turning towards the fight that was a tied between the Wandas and Agatha.

“What we came to do, just stay out of trouble and be ready to help us go back home, okay kiddo?”

America doubt there was anything she could do, but she didn’t contradict you. With a single nodded of her head she watched as you ran towards the fight, your shadows already creating a protective barrier around you and Wanda. Something, America though, you probably were not aware of.

_____________________________________________________________

Loki rolled his eyes once more, he was tired of hearing the fight going on in the meeting room while he stood by the window waiting for the right moment to intervene.

The world outside was highly active, Monday had always been one of the busiest days in the calendar and that day was not the exception. The young god leaned forward, his fingertips touching the window while his eyes observed the golden and green lights of the timelines. His eyes soon fell upon the one he did not recognise, a red line that he could not tamper with but that he was certain contained the answers to the questions everyone in the room were posing.

Loki turned around his eyes finding those of Billy who had not leave his side ever since Pietro brought him into the Avenger’s Tower. The young boy had his eyes narrowed, his hands playing with invisible threats only he could see.

For a brief moment, Loki stood there observing the child with growing curiosity. Billy was tapping the air with his fingertips, concentrated in something only visible to him. Loki frowned with his mind already forming an idea of what exactly was happening.

“Billy, what are you doing?” The question was low enough for the child to hear it but not for the rest of the room to notice it.

Billy lifted his face this time around his eyes went wide opened showing off the innocence of his age, but also the brightness he had inherited from both his mothers.

“Mommy always says to follow my instincts.” There was conviction in his tone, his hands tapping still as if waiting for something.

“And, what are they telling you?” Loki knelt to be on the same height of the child, Billy tilted his head creasing his brows before answering.

“Uncle Loki, momma and mommy need my help…look!”

Loki looked in the direction Billy was pointing to, he gasped with his eyes wide open and a smile forming on his lips.

“Billy you are a genius.” Billy offered a timid smile glancing at Loki shyly.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I think thanks to you we are going to be able to help Wanda and Y/N.” Loki could see the excitement in the little boy, he couldn’t help but smile back.

Without giving to much attention to the room, Loki sat right beside Billy closing his eyes before letting his magic to spread around. Billy was slightly confused at first, he had continued working on invisible threads trying to get into contact with them. Now there was something different, with his uncle sitting beside him Billy could sense the magic. He pressed his lips together before sitting down and, imitating Loki, he closed his eyes and just went with his instincts.

_____________________________________________________________

Whatever power she had tried to drain from Wanda and even Scarlet was no longer active to give her the stamina or even the strength to keep up with the fight. She was not even up to sustain the world she had created by tampering on the Chaos magic she could barely tolerate.

Wanda Maximoff gathered her power while circling the woman in front of her, she could feel the hurt she had created for her counterpart had reached out beyond the boundaries of the multiverse and it was something she would not tolerate. Beside her she could sense Y/N, a close shadow that was ready to jump in when necessary to offer protection and support; Wanda couldn’t help but smile.

“You won’t win.” Agatha tried to put up with a fight, she tried to hold onto the last threads of power inside her to get into the fight but she could no longer hold onto her powers for far too long.

You came from behind her your hands wrapping around her wrists while your shadows covered her feet spreading through her legs and body. Agatha was struggling, her eyes going wide open just as she started chanting in a language you did not recognize. Wanda opened her eyes wide, she stepped closer spreading her arms and chanting just the same, the runes trembling right above your head just before a myriad of images surrounded you breaking the darkness before going completely white.

“NO!” Agatha let out a guttural exclamation, her elbow hitting you square in the face but whatever strength she had in her to fight was haltered by your counterpart finishing what you started.

Wanda knew at that moment why she had been feared by Agatha, the power that was held inside her sent electric waves through her body. The power concentrated on her hand, and soon a single jewel showed on her palm while her counterpart continued with the ritual. The runes appeared right above her head, and without any indications, she started chanting as well.

You stepped back falling on your ass, blood rolling down your nose just as you saw the black figured being swallowed by the jewel. There was a moment of flickering lights and then, it stopped. Both Wanda’s stood right in front of the other, the jewel resting comfortably on the hand of Y/N’s wife.

The jewel took into a purplish colour, falling to the ground with a single thump.

The world went silent.

The darkness around you grew, with the stars twinkling right above your head.

Everything was still, with only your hard breathing breaking the tension around your ears. Your body was aching, your mind filled with memories of the past and the present all of them pilling up to overwhelmed you line of thoughts. You closed your eyes trying to forget and wait for everything to be back the way it was in the last year.

But you knew it was just an illusion.

Your world had been shaken up the moment Wanda and America showed up at your doorstep. The fight with Agatha brought back the memories you had tried to forget, it brought with it the truths you were not ready to face. You had always thought that you could outrun your motions, but the world has always taught you this was not possible. Not for someone like you, and certainly not for someone like Wanda.

When you opened your eyes you saw Wanda, your Wanda staring at you, but before anything could be done or said her eyes rolled back passing out of exhaustion. You caught up to her on time, her body falling on yours your face a mask of pure concern just as you ensure she rested comfortably on the ground.

You knew everyone was looking at you, but you decided to ignore them while checking Wanda over to make sure nothing else happened to her.

“Are you alright?” The other Wanda came to you, her voice sent shivers down your back, you didn’t dare to lift your eyes for fear of revealing far too much.

Instead, you nodded taking deep breaths while feeling the ground under your knees, without thinking too much about it, your hand brushed Wanda’s hair tenderly. The attention you were giving to her was something you never thought you would do again. The woman standing beside you shifted her weight and soon she was sitting right beside you; this time around you did turn around only to see her staring at you with big, curious eyes.

“She is still unconscious, but I believe she is no longer two halves of the same person.” Wanda lifted her face to the sky, her lips parting slightly. “Her magic is still erratic, but I believe she would be okay.”

“What about Agatha?” Your question entangled in your throat, scrunching up your nose you decided to conceal your emotions not ready to face the conversation or to address the white elephant hanging around you two.

“She will be trapped in this jewel until you and her decided what should be done with her.” Wanda handed over the jewel, you pursed your lips in disgust before grabbing the artifact.

“The book she had with her, it is the Darkhold, isn’t it?”

“It is.” You nodded this time around locking your eyes with hers.

“Are you taking it with you?”

Wanda broke into an easy smile shaking her head, “it’s not mine but yours. It would be better off in your world, where it belongs.”

“It should be destroyed.” You leaned back resting your hands on the ground.

“It should, but that would be your prerogative not ours.”

Your eyes drifted around the place before they settled on America and Y/N, both of them were engaged in a heavy discussion and you could teel this was the moment America had been waiting for a very long time. The feelings of guiltiness and sadness had been quite evident in her when you two met, right now this was the chance the young woman was waiting for to make amends. To reach for forgiveness.

“So, any idea how we are going to leave this place?”

Wanda nodded leaning back until she pointed to America and your counterpart.

“She is ready to use her powers, I believe she is the only one that can help us right now.”

Not sooner had Wanda said this the world started to tremble, the light of the stars flickered until they disappeared one by one. You straightened up with Wanda standing up as soon as she noticed this.

“I guess…we should try it right now.” You stood up turning to glance at the darkened world, everything was coming in and out of reality with the ground shaking for small periods of time.

“It was a matter of time.” Wanda placed a hand on your forearm, you couldn’t help the tension on your muscles the other woman softened her features stepping closer. “You will be back, and she will need help to recover from this.”

“I know.”

“Are you ready for that?” The question caught you off guard, you knew what was expected of you and what you could do with the woman that had broken your heart at some point.

You could hide behind that excuse until the end of time, but it would run out of any validity at some point. Sooner or later, you knew you would have to face Wanda and decisions must be made. The Wanda standing before you softened her features, her words would made your mind pound with the imminent decisions you would need to make.

“How deep is your anger, and how deep goes your love for you to not face what your heart already knows?” Wanda leaned in and you found yourself in a embrace you didn’t know you miss. Her voice was just a whisper, but it was everything you needed at the moment. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I will tell you my love to follow your instincts. They had never failed you.”

America glanced around the group with a nervous smile.

She glanced at her hands then back at you and Y/N, the words of encouragement were ringing inside her head while she tried to gather the courage to move onto the next step.

“Just think about it, kiddo.” Y/N stated grabbing the hand of her wife, America almost winced at those words because her mind had been a myriad of thoughts since they delegate the task of going back home on her.

You fixed the unconscious woman in your arms, putting her closer to you while looking over at America. The young woman closed her eyes, ready to open the portal when Wanda stopped her.

“Wait, America.” The redhead stepped closer placing her hand on America’s shoulder. “Remember, it is more than opening a portal, is about opening the right one.”

“I know, I know…it’s just…easier said than done.” America pursed her lips, she took a deep breath closing her eyes.

“Then, let yourself be guided by your emotions and what you remember of the place you want to go to.” Wanda squeezed the shoulder of the teen tenderly, and for that brief moment America felt it.

It was vague but it was there.

The same kind of energy she had felt on Wanda and Y/N, it was familiar yet different. She had felt it when she first fell upon that universe, the twins had carried with them a strange kind of energy that seemed to engulf the best of Wanda and Y/N.

America closed her eyes and, without thinking to much, she followed the familiarity of that energy. Her mind bringing over the memories of her time in that land, finally easing out her fears and trusting in the women she had surrounding her.

The young woman clenched her fist, and with a single punch she opened the star-shaped portal.

All of them were ready to go home.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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s4lv4tions · 1 year ago

Text

numerology; nsfw

pairing; gojo satoru x reader / gojo satoru x geto suguru (past) / geto suguru x reader (past) summary; numerology — the belief in an occult, divine or mystical relationship between a number and one or more coinciding events. or: trying to move on. wc; 13.4k cw; death, angst, requited unrequited love, violence, smut (at the very end, but mentions throughout), canon divergence, spoilers for manga an; if you think you've read this before, you probably have! i posted this on my old tumblr a year or so ago, and it's still available on my ao3. this version is slightly updated and edited, but still diverges from canon as it was created at the start of the culling games arc :)

The first time you bathe with Satoru, he cries.

You don't notice at first; he's quiet — abnormally so —, and his face remains pristine, unchanged. The only hint you get is a small, barely audible sniffle that stops as quickly as it starts — and you think he wants it that way. You don't think he's ever cried in front of anyone.

That's why you don't say anything. Just continue washing the suds from his hair, and pretend that the tears rolling down his cheeks are beads of water dripping from his hair — but you take extra care to massage the conditioner in, and peck his cheek as you finger-comb through silky, cloud-white strands.

It occurs to you afterwards — as he lounges on your bed, scrolling through channels with a wayward hand planted on his stomach — that perhaps, it's the first time somebody has taken care of him. The first time ever, or just the first time since… since…

Geto Suguru's face smiles up at you from your vanity — a tiny polaroid, his face no bigger than the nail of your thumb. Beside him, Satoru grins, cheeky and bright-eyed — you don't think he's ever been any different —, and in the corner, the smudge of your thumb covers the lens. You don’t have to lift the photo and check the back to know what’s written there, in your scratchy, looping scrawl; the strongest, 2006.

"Lord of the Rings?" Satoru calls, carefree as ever. A yawn catches in his throat, and his fingers slip underneath his shirt to scratch absentmindedly at his chest. "Ooh, haven't seen this one yet…"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

It was a better time. Less pain. Less responsibility. Less death — or maybe the same amount, just shielded by the blinding cover of childhood inexperience. Suguru was still alive and burning bright, Satoru was happy (happier. He didn't cry in the bath, at least). Shoko didn’t self-medicate as intensively as she does now. The days were spent in childish ignorance and stupid indulgence, and even when things seemed their darkest, you never lost hope.

(It probably says a lot about you that, if given the chance, you wouldn't return. Whether that's because of what you know is bound to happen, and the pain is too much to experience again, or because you're so utterly pathetic that you'll take sadness and grief and a tiny shred of affection over… whatever it is you were back then, you don't know. A smudge in the corner of a picture of the jujutsu world's greatest.)

Suguru's eyes seem to burn into you. You turn the picture over, and rejoin Satoru on your bed.

"It's been two years."

Satoru doesn't like to talk after sex. Not in any way that's really meaningful, you mean, nothing that lets you in. He loves jokes, empty small talk, work politics. Chatter that's deep enough to show he cares a little without bearing any part of himself — your injury healed up? When was the last time you had a break? There's a new teppanyaki place in Shinjuku, I'll treat you. Don't work yourself too hard, you'll put me out of business!

If you're being honest, you didn't go into this expecting anything more than a person to scratch an itch with.

You're already friends — though, you're not sure friends totally encapsulates what Satoru is to you, romantic or platonic. You've been friends since you were 12. Satoru, Suguru, you — and then Shoko, when you all met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech. That's how it's always been.

You swear sometimes you know him better than yourself. You swear sometimes it's his voice you think with. Is that what "friends" encompasses? Somehow, it doesn't seem enough.

Whatever. The point is that your relationship with Satoru is already strong; foundations tall and proud and unshakeable. You didn't start fucking Satoru in the hopes of forming a relationship — one was already there.

It's just... Satoru is young, yes, and he enjoys flirting, but (contrary to common belief) he's not all that keen to sleep with the first person who's willing. You don’t say this with the belief that you’re special. It’s just that with work, and especially with — y'know, his… romantic history, Satoru hasn’t found the time or will to just sleep around. At least, according to him.

Sheer willpower isn't enough to make those urges go away, though, and… well, you had them too, and you were willing, and he trusts you. And you'll take anything he'll give you, really, even if it's just scraps. Even if sometimes it makes you feel worse.

Today's one of those days.

You feel sick, after. Not because of him — because of yourself. Your polaroid of Getou and any other photo he's in has been turned over, anything that could remind you of him tucked away, but — but he's everywhere today, everywhere, and you'd fucked Satoru despite it. And Satoru is covered in memories of Getou, of course. Every freckle, every shifting of muscle, every jut of bone — did Getou touch him here? Caress every bit of him he could get his hands on? Tangle his hands in his snow-white hair, breathe against his collarbone?

When you came, you cried. Pretended it was just because it was so intense, but behind your eyelids, dark, cat-like eyes stared back.

"Hm?" Satoru hums as if he didn't hear you, eyes fixed on the TV. Dumb doesn't suit him — it's honestly a bit of an insult for him to even try it. Like you didn't sense the stiffness of his limbs the second he'd stepped inside, or the crumbling edge of his smile, or the way he'd forced you to love him harder — pull his hair harder, scratch his back deeper, his Infinity turned off and his skin yours for the marking.

Satoru's mannerisms are scribed into your brain. You catch yourself emulating them, sometimes; hands waving, head tilting, grin wide and posture open. You wear it like an oversized coat, an ill-fitting costume, and sometimes you wish you could stop taking on pieces of him. The more you take, the more you must throw away — and it's Suguru that your memory discards. You find yourself forgetting how he hummed when he woke up from a nap, or filled his cheeks with food like a hamster; how he scrunched his face up when he laughed, pretty all the while…

The point is that even with his incredible knowledge, his awesome strength, the sheer holiness of his existence — you know Satoru. And the fact that he came to you today isn't mere coincidence.

You decide to come out with it. You've tiptoed around it for 24 months, give or take, had a shockingly brief mourning period before the jujutsu world forced you along, and… even with what he did, Suguru deserves better. "Suguru died today."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Mm, I guess he did."

You'd spent the day staring out at the grey sky, the miserable sight of soaked pavement. Grey, grey, grey. Concrete jungle. Heavy rain clouds and an ocean of multicoloured umbrellas, bobbing and rolling to destinations unknown. You hadn't said it aloud; hadn't even thought of it, specifically. The knowledge of it had just sat over your head like a thick, sweltering fog — and if you know Satoru at all, you know that he'd done the same. Maybe he hid it better.

You don't have to look now to know that his lips are pressed thin. You find the sudden thought of looking him in the eyes daunting, anyways, so you turn onto your side, back facing him, and pick mindlessly at the sheets. You don't want to see what his reaction will be when you say—

"Did you know that I loved him — back then?"

You don't want to see the shock, or the confusion — and you'd rather not see a lack of them, either. What's worse, you wonder — him knowing and loving Suguru too, or not knowing and loving him?

"...Yes."

You screw your eyes shut and try to will away the sudden surge of cold, like a sharpened dagger to your chest.

(It turns out that knowing is much more painful.)

Suguru Geto had been the apple of your eye ever since you'd met. 11 and gangly and stupid in a way that all children were always stupid, Suguru had been a bit kinder than his white-haired counterpart. Satoru, being Satoru Gojo, had grown up with no fear of authority, no mindfulness for his less-powerful peers as anything more than people who existed around him. You and Suguru were allowed the title of friends, but very few were. Anyway — he grew out of that mindset, of course, but your fondness for Suguru stayed.

(Though they'd always seemed to be on another level than you — not even just in terms of power, but… just caught up in each other, always. Suguru had only ever wanted Satoru. And vice versa.)

And then Suguru changed. Right under your nose, he changed, and his sudden quietness made sense. His fatigue. The way his hands would always shake when swallowing an exorcised curse, always had since you were kids, and then suddenly they were ingested with a scary calm. Nobody understands the taste of curses. Not even you, not even when he’d explained it in sickening detail.

You sigh, then. Tired and lethargic and not from physically straining yourself for an hour. This is bone-deep, soul-weary. It's been held in for 730 days, or maybe more. Maybe you've carried it with you since birth. "I never apologised."

"For what?" Satoru asks — and he laughs, jolly, and the sound fits awkwardly in his throat. A clear attempt at feigning indifference, but he's a bad liar. He always has been, because he's never needed to lie. Perks of being the strongest, you guess. You can just come out and say shit — and if you can't, not saying anything technically isn’t lying.

"I hated you, after," you confess. You dig your thumbnail hard intoyour pinky finger, taking momentary refuge in the sharp shock of pain. "I couldn't stand to look at you. When I did, I saw… I saw what you did. What you had, and what you had thrown away. I blamed you for Suguru. I blamed everyone except Suguru."

Another snicker, a bit too humourless. "You can't stand to look at me now."

"I…" You don't know what to say to that.

Truth is, you don't want to see his face. Contorted in pity, or disgust, or sadness for you. You've gotten used to living in his shadow — most everyone has — but that doesn’t ease the ever-present blanket of insecurity that you carry around your shoulders. It doesn’t dull the ache of inferiority you’ve been housing in your chest from the moment you were saddled with your technique. As you aged, you got better at hiding it, and you generally prefer your self-pity to go unnoticed, but Satoru—

He could always read you like a book. And you hated it. You hated being pitied by someone who was as powerful as him — someone as close to God as one could get. It was demeaning. Patronising. It makes you feel like a child again, bowing your head as your mother makes excuses for you.

You shift over — onto your back, and then onto your other side — and you look at him. You force yourself. Blankets pooled around his waist, his skin so pale it could be translucent, eyes icy blue and framed with fluffy white.

"You were forced to do it," you murmur. Your eyes remain trained on his chin — his are much too bright, much too all-seeing for comfort. "If you hadn't, he would've gotten worse. He never would have stopped. You knew that, you always did. It… took me a while to come to terms with it."

Satoru sighs. Then, he slumps down so that — like you — his head rests flat on the pillow, and his body arcs towards yours. He's forced himself into your sights again, in a way that’s gentle, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to figure out what he's doing: forcing you to face him.

"Would it have made you feel better," Satoru begins, reaching forward to brush his fingers against your chin, "if you were there when I did it?"

Would it have?

Would it have given you closure? Would you no longer spend your nights wondering what he'd looked like, what his last words were, his last thoughts? If he had spittled and roared in anger, if he had wept in fear, if he had attempted a smile, a joke? If he thought of you, or if you were just another insignificant blip in his radar?

In your mind, Suguru exists as his 17 year old self — smiling and mischievous, polite yet humorous. He puts extra broccoli on your plate and gently berates you to eat more. He tells you that you're a precious part of the team, that none of them would be who they are without you. He calls you crybaby because you always wear your heart on your sleeve, and tells you not to worry about things you cannot change.

Change what you can. Forget the rest and leave it to me, crybaby.

The bubbling hatred that had festered inside him has no place in your head. You want him to stay as he is, your Suguru that was never yours, shining like gold in your mind.

"No. He hated me at the end, I think," you say quietly. For a second, you dare to meet his eyes — bright and pointed in how they stare at you. You know he can see the tears that have begun to burn in your waterline, the way you ball your fists so hard you dig half-moon into your skin. He doesn’t need to be blessed with the Six Eyes to see.

"I wasn't interested in changing the world like he was, even with my Technique. That made him despise me, I think."

Satoru stares for a few more seconds. You wonder what he's thinking about. A second in your time is a lifetime in Satoru's; he must be thinking hard.

But he blinks, at last; sighs so deeply that his chest caves in with it, before he winds an arm around your waist and pulls you close, bare chest to bare chest, only atomic space between you.

There's nothing sexual about it. You're nothing but bones and skin and blood, here. He moulds your head to his shoulder with one large hand and cocoons you in his embrace, warm. Protected. You're not sure who the action is meant to comfort.

And just when you think the conversation is over — just when minutes have passed with nothing but the sound of the TV between you both — he speaks.

"Suguru could never hate you. Trust me."

You don't want to know what that means. You're only beginning to get over it, two years later.

Satoru is holding three onigiri in one hand, and two Starbucks' cups in the other — extra sugar, extra cream, extra ice, extra unicorn-marketing, just the way you both like it.

"There she is!" Is the first thing he says as he meets you just outside the metro, grinning.

It's sweltering hot today — the sun had risen early and would surely set late, and Satoru seems to be taking advantage of it. Gone is his Jujutsu Tech uniform and thick blindfold, but he's stuck with the all-black theme like he usually does — black jeans, black linen shirt, black socks and shoes. Even the frames of his sunglasses are black.

(Handsome. He's handsome. He's always been handsome — years later, you'd think you'd stop feeling the effects of it.)

Lucky for him. You're not, y'know, the strongest sorcerer in the last century, so there's no leeway for you — and even in your summer uniform, the skirt and short-sleeved blouse, you're sweating. Your only respite is that the combined force of you and Satoru will mean this mission is going to be a breeze.

Satoru tsks. "Took your time. I almost ate your onigiri."

A man nearby jogs past, clearly in a rush, and Satoru has to step closer to you to avoid him. He could've stayed still. He wouldn't have touched him, anyway, with his Limitless.

"And you would've had to buy another, genius."

A pout. "You only love me for my bank account, don't you?"

(He's joking. It's a joke.

But your hand shakes — a miniscule tremor — as you reach out to take one of the cups, and you know he sees it because he's Satoru and he sees everything. You turn away as quickly as you can, setting off in the direction of whatever place it is you're here for, and pretend that the fact that he can say it so casually doesn't kinda fucking hurt.

(He could never say it like that with Suguru — so bluntly, so crassly. Not without softened eyes and softened smiles and a gentle tilt of his head — those are mannerisms reserved only for him, never to be seen again. Instead, you get snickers and digs in the arm and teasing pulls of your hair. Of course it’s a joke. That’s all you are.

Perhaps you should just be grateful for what you get. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a man you once loved. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a dead man. Perhaps, in the end, you just love the pain of it all.))

"Yeah," you reply, taking a large, sugary sip. "And don't you forget it, either."

Satoru catches up to you quickly, effortlessly; his arm flops around your shoulder as he tugs you in the opposite direction, chastising you for going the wrong way — but it stays there long after it needs to.

Itadori Yuuji — Sukuna's dead-but-not-really vessel — thinks your cursed technique is powerful. He thinks it’s amazing that you can use reverse cursed technique — you must be really powerful, right? Gojo-sensei says you’re special grade. He also thinks you're very pretty. He tells you this over his fourth grilled pork belly wrap — this one bursting at the seams with kimchi, garlic, and roasted sesame seeds.

He doesn't say it in a flirtatious way — it's just an observation to him, simple and blunt, and you figure he has about as much of a filter as Satoru does.

"O-oh," you say, metal tongs frozen over the sizzling meat. "Thank you, Yuuji."

You had briefly met him for the first time before his death — Nobara, too. Megumi, the third piece of the golden trio, has been something of a little brother ever since Satoru had taken him in, and you know him well enough to know that Yuuji's death (or lack thereof) is weighing on him terribly.

(There are too many parallels you could make. Suguru and Satoru. Haibara and Nanami.)

Hiding it does make you feel guilty. To experience that grief, that loss — even if it will soon go away when Yuuji rejoins jujutsu society — isn’t something to take lightly. But Yuuji needs a guide that isn’t completely off the rails. Satoru and you balance each other out, and balance seems to be something Yuuji needs.

He reminds you terribly of Satoru when he was younger. Maybe that's why you have such a fond spot for him — he's too goofy and well-meaning and genuine to dislike.

"Why are you acting surprised?" Gripes Satoru, chewing with his mouth open. "I tell you that all the time."

Your eyes narrow. You place a perfectly cooked slice of marinated beef on his plate. "You're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whines. "We're best friends, crybaby!"

"You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference. And don’t call me that."

"Is there?" Satoru asks, turning to Yuuji for guidance. The teen boy shrugs, preoccupied by assembling his newest monstrosity. "I call you pretty, too."

"Yeah, when—"

When you're eight inches deep in me, face buried in my neck, trying to get yourself off. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the thought, and you shut your mouth. Yuuji doesn't notice your slip up, busy as he is; Satoru does completely, and fixes you with a grin so sharp that you vow to not give him any more meat until Yuuji is completely full.

"It's not the same," you say, voice final. It's a lighthearted lunch. You don't want to ruin it by getting touchy over semantics, and that's exactly what'll happen if you keep going. "You say it to reward me. Like tossing a dog a bone."

You reach for the scissors to snip the meat into little pieces — and in doing so, you miss the brief frown that presses against Satoru's brow.

Neither of you say anything more on the matter.

Satoru has known you for five years when he realises that he resents you. Not completely, and not for one particular or solid reason, either. He prefers not to think about it, in any case, because you're one of his closest friends — and even at 17, he knows that that's hard to come by. Especially as the Strongest.

Satoru stares up at his ceiling; stares at the miniature striations only he can see, the starburst-shaped gyrations of clay used to finish it off.

Tonight, he's thinking about it. And many other things.

He hates that you're so hesitant about everything — he hates that you believe yourself so weak that you have to tiptoe. You, with your reverse cursed technique — which is a feat in and of itself — that could transcend time and space, just like he could. A technique passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years, accumulating power all the while…

(Your technique has lots of rules and regulations, of course. A handicap, and he understands it frustrates you, but his own frustration eclipses his understanding. Why should someone so strong feel anything but their own strength?)

He hates that you curl in on yourself when you're sad, or lonely, or angry. He hates that you wear your heart on your sleeve — he's never allowed himself to, not fully. He can't, never fully, because there are people who are watching him, people who hate him, people who want him dead. He can joke. He can make his political desires clear — but he can’t love like he wants to, and God forbid he cries.

He hates that you close your eyes and bask when it's sunny, like a cat in a sunspot; hates that you remember that he doesn't like chicken wings and prefers thighs; he especially hates that you watch over Suguru like it's your job, when Suguru doesn't need it.

And some part of Satoru hates Suguru, too. It was strange for him to come to terms with it, fond of him as he is, but as he grows Satoru realises that there's no love of his that isn't closely affiliated with hate. It makes the love all the more strong.

Satoru, for one, dislikes how polite Suguru is, even when he doesn't need to be. He hates that Suguru becomes a straight-faced, unfeeling thing when he's upset, and tries to hide it — the emptiness in his eyes unsettles him like nothing else.

Most of all, above all, Satoru hates that Suguru loves you, crybaby, and is too pussy to do shit about it. Satoru doesn't understand why, anyways, because he'd made it clear that if he wanted, Suguru could have you both and Satoru wouldn't care. Usually, the thought would offend him. How can you love someone when you already love me? When you've already sworn yourself to me? You already have the strongest, who else do you need?

But… he doesn't know. He kinda understands. You're precious to him, too, after all, sunflower soaking up the sun.

Like he said: there's no love of his that isn’t closely affiliated with hate.

Six and a half hours after the hours-long meeting that followed the ruined School Goodwill Event, you find yourselves in a diner somewhere in Harajuku. It’s one of those weird fusion places, loaning ornamentation and tokens from classic American diners, serving omurice with fries, sushi with mashed potatoes, with a cute little mascot that looks like Elvis. It’s loud enough and bright enough to make you feel timeless. It's a sensation you can appreciate.

Something’s been telling you that time’s ticking, and you’re not quite sure what it is. Trauma, probably. Anxiety. The fact that curses have been banding together, learning spoken language, amassing power — planning an attack on Jujutsu Tech, gaining intelligence, gaining anger.

Satoru doesn’t say it — doesn’t want to say it — but you think it’s unnerved him, too. The last time outsiders entered school grounds was… two years ago, wasn’t it? It’s crazy. Everything always seems to lead back to Suguru.

The attack has fueled something in both of you, anyways; something that makes you both stay up instead of knocking out like you usually do; something that makes you both hungry and restless and liable to travel across Tokyo past midnight. By public transport, no less. No warping or high-speed flying for you, tonight.

But you appreciate it. And you think that Satoru is taking things slow for the same reasons you want to — to take things in, to appreciate what you never think to appreciate. To admire the mundane, even for a little while. Satoru’s less emotionally attached to the jujutsu-less aspects of life than you are — bullet trains and waiting in line and standing on the train platform, escalators and traffic — but he enjoys them all the same when he has time to. And it’s not often The Strongest gets to experience pure, genuine normality, too, so maybe sitting in this gaudy diner and watching the world pass you by is a luxury he rarely affords himself.

He orders the most complicated drink they have — a sakura-caramel milkshake topped with whipped cream, glacé cherries, and an entire slice of cheesecake. He’s down to the last dregs of melting cream within 10 minutes, swiping fries from your plate between sips, ignoring your chides of rotten teeth and high blood sugar.

Blindfold swapped for glasses. Strands of hair drifting down against his forehead.

You’re always reminded at the worst times of how handsome he is. It’s not like it’s a secret, or he’s unaware of it — and he takes pride in his looks, if his extensive skincare shelf and general attitude is anything to go by — but he puts much more stock in his strength, in his usefulness to others, his intelligence. The things he can provide for others. Not many people realise that.

Maybe you shouldn’t act so high and mighty. It’s not like you don’t appreciate his appearance as much as the next person — hell, half the time you’re trying to stop it from distracting you — but maybe you get a pass. Y’know, as a person who actually has reason to marvel over the stretch of his neck and the flush of his cheeks and how his lips go the prettiest pink when you kiss him. Or the cords of muscle along his arms; the slender-yet-thick bands of muscle of his chest and legs. The large, veiny expanse of hand — slim, delicate fingers wrapped around a paper straw…

"Are you gonna eat those?" Says Satoru, slurping obnoxiously. “Haven't eaten since dinner."

You push the basket across the table, uncharacteristically void of argument. "Go crazy."

Satoru sets his empty glass aside, but the straw remains in one hand. The other he uses to pluck up fries, 4 or 5 at a time, his gaze suddenly fixed on you as he chews nonchalantly.

"Y'know," he says, licking salt from his fingertips, jabbing the straw in your direction, "I can always tell when you're horny."

"Excuse me?"

"You squirm," Satoru continues — matter-of-fact, casual, as if he's talking about the weather. "And you get quiet.”

“I’m a quiet person,” you snap, nails pressing against your palms under the table. “Sorry I know when to shut the fuck up—”

“And then you get flustered. And when you’re flustered, or embarrassed, you get angry.” He raises his hand — signals the cute waitress for another basket of fries, and leans back with his arms splayed along the back of the booth. “Don’t look so surprised! How long have we known each other?”

If you were a better person, you’d probably admit that yes, he’s right. You do get quiet when you’re horny, and you do get angry when you’re flustered — if you were a worse person, though, you’d remark on how you're the first person he crawls to when he’s sad, or overwhelmed. How getting you into bed and losing yourselves in each other is a sort of therapy for him. How he always tries to distract you with cheeky grins and sly, flirty comments, but then afterwards he cries in the bath as you clean him up.

You don't say that, obviously. Seems like a pretty shitty thing to bring up today of all days. He'd probably deny it anyways, but you don't think it's a coincidence that the attack has left him restless and he obviously wants to take you home.

The new fries are delivered to the table, but he looks right past them. He bows his head slightly, glasses slipping a little further down his nose so that his white-framed eyes peek over the top of them.

"Let's warp home," Satoru says — and oh. There's that voice. That drop in tone, that lack of boisterous humour he always employs. It's soft enough to have goosebumps rising on the back of your arms, smooth enough to have you squirming — yes, squirming, you admit it — in your seat. "Alright?"

"Yes." And it's embarrassingly breathless, and embarrassingly quick, but Satoru doesn't tease you. Just smiles, raises a hand for the bill, and watches you all the while.

You count seven stitches in the forehead of Geto Suguru.

Count, because it's all you can do. Everything else is lost to you.

Breathing.

Standing.

It feels like even your heart has stalled. Because—

Because—

Because Geto Suguru is dead. Dead, in the ground, no longer breathing, no longer living. Satoru had killed him. Satoru had demolished him.

The lips of the Geto in front of you twist — a sickening, stomach-turning imitation of the smile you once adored. On his face it's a sneer, a mockery. Your Suguru did not smile like this when you knew him.

"Hello," he greets pleasantly. His arms are hidden within the sleeves of his yukata. Hair down. Suguru always tended to wear his hair up, unless he was fresh out of the shower. Unless he was upset. It was too much hassle to take care of. You know when he took over the Time Vessel Association and donned the gojo-kesa he began wearing it down. "_____ _____, yes?"

You can't answer. Your ears are ringing. Your stomach gives a worrying lurch that winds up your throat — you think you're going to be sick.

How? Why? Who — who is this in front of you? Because it's not Geto, not Suguru — and you don't say that because of longing or a pathetic desire for ignorance. This thing feels wrong. Inherently, blasphemously wrong. Looking at him for too long makes your cursed energy prickle. Seeing Suguru's image painted in such slimy, rancid energy has you gasping for breath.

Satoru, your mind whispers. Satoru needs to know.

He should. He needs to. But this pseudo-Geto does not look friendly in the slightest, and you are isolated.

Looking back, it had seemed fine to go alone to exorcise curses in the belly of Tokyo's metro. Taking old service tunnels and eventually entering abandoned tracks hadn't felt scary. You're a semi-special grade sorcerer with years of experience under your belt and a powerful cursed technique that could get you out of most, if not all, pinches, restrictions and regulations be damned.

"I'm sure you're very confused. I apologise, really…"

The reality of the situation hits you. Maybe hit is the wrong word — it doesn’t come as a bloody, stinging smack in the face. It’s a trickle of ice-cold water down the nape of your neck, drawing dread from your head all the way into the pit of your stomach. You don't think this is a pinch you'll come out of — at least not battered half to death, especially when a silver-haired curse decorated with stitches steps out from behind pseudo-Geto. The curse Kento had fought. The one that he said to look out for. Patchwork.

Immediately, you know fighting isn't an option. But what else is there to do, in the face of pseudo-Geto and his silver-haired, sentient curse? Your technique may not be limitless in your possession, but in theirs? If they did to you what they did to so many others — transfiguring you past the point of recognition, stealing your body and technique, desecrating your corpse with cursed energy…

"I can feel it from here," titters the curse excitedly. "So warm… I have to have it! Her soul, I have to have it!"

Fuck.

You could try to escape, but you wouldn't have enough time to run past them and through the winding corridors of the underground, even while distracting them with your cursed technique. They'd catch you within seconds. You’re sure they have curses lurking around waiting to thwart you, too.

You could burst directly into the layers of concrete and metal above — use your technique to revert them back millions and millions and years to their very first forms, atoms and subatomic particles, and then rebuild them up as an ascending platform — but that would take too much time, and you'd be completely defenceless while you did. Not to mention the toll it'd take on you.

(Not to mention the fact that you'd be bursting into the public eye from a giant crater in the ground.)

"I'm sure you know what I'm going to do," continues pseudo-Geto, amiable. "I would ask you to join us, but I know that is impossible. Therefore, there is only one course of action."

Can't fight. Can't escape. Can't get answers. Can't stay clueless. How contradictory.

You're not dying, that's all you know. And if you have to do the one thing you never wanted to do, then so be it. Anything is better than death. Death is not an escape, in this scenario — it’s a guarantee of imprisonment.

"It's a shame," pseudo-Geto sighs, bloodlust swelling. "Such a waste of a good technique."

You make a Binding Vow with yourself within seconds.

Using a magnitude of cursed energy usually out of your reach, your entire body will be reduced to atoms — intangible, untrappable, unkillable — for as long as it takes to retreat to safety. In return, you will be unable to think, unable to move according to your own will, only a mere pawn to entropy as the rest of the galaxy is — high risk, high reward.

There are many things that could go wrong.

In reducing yourself to essentially nothing, in splitting your cursed energy into billions of particles, you could reach a state of such low cursed energy concentration that you are, for all terms and purposes, considered dead. In doing so, your Binding Vow could break, and you would be unable to return to living.

Or you could float for days, weeks, years — safety is subjective, subjective is dangerous when it comes to contracts, and you can only hope that your own understanding of it sets the standard.

It's either this, this fleeting, terrifying chance, or death. With one, you can return to your school, your students, your Satoru — you can tell them what happened. You can bring justice to whoever has disturbed Suguru from his slumber. With the other — nothing. Just plain, utter nothingness forever and ever.

(You know which you'd rather.)

The last thing you recall, in spotty haziness, is the heart-stopping sight of Suguru surging towards you, eyes bloodthirsty, face contorted in malice.

The last thing you hope is that Satoru isn't too upset about the risk you've taken.

Eight days after your solo mission, you resurface — a discombobulated, stumbling mess on the outskirts of Shibuya, eyes glazed and mouth stuttering over syllables. A nearby Window calls the college within seconds, and Gojo is there just as soon — hands shaking when he grasps your arm and turns you to face him, fingers trembling when he cups your cheeks and brushes them under your eyes.

It’s you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, and he can breathe, he can fucking breathe, his chest is lighter than it’s been for those entire 8 days — all the while, he burns with an anger so intense it hurts. And Satoru is no stranger to anger, of course — knows it as intimately as he knows himself — but he's not sure if he can remember the last time it had rendered him breathless, trembling. Bloodthirsty.

It's not the time to think about it. Not when you're shaking in his arms, so frail and weak everywhere except your hands — no, your hands remain strong, fingers digging into his clothes and skin. He turns off his Infinity. The sting of your touch grounds him.

Shoko is already waiting in the clinic for him — she’d been preparing ever since the call first came in. The students (the ones on campus, at least) crowd together at a distance, buzzing anxiously as Satoru disappears swiftly into the depths of the infirmary with you in his arms.

Bad things happen often. Too often. Satoru isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that they haven’t gotten used to it yet.

“Gibberish,” Satoru answers when Shoko asks if you’ve said anything competent since he picked you up. “Just gibberish.”

Shoko is poking and prodding you with the usual doctor's shit — stethoscopes and thermometers and that blood pressure band that goes around your arm — and you just lay there and take it. Head rocking side to side, limbs trembling, mouth lolling open, and Satoru's trying not to lose his head because what good is taking your temperature? Do you look like you have a fucking cold? Is the way your eyes focus and unfocus normal? The way you can’t string together two syllables that make fucking sense?

But even with how he can see your cells malfunctioning all over your body, Shoko knows more about this shit than him. So he sits pretty on her swivelling chair, twisting back and forth, body the image of boredom but mind anything but. Time and time again, he’s reminded of how unprejudiced tragedy is — how it leaves no hint, no mark of itself, no time to prepare for the toll of it all.

Satoru had greeted you briefly before you’d left. Said something about getting lunch together, that you better be careful because you were treating him — the same shit he said time and time again, his real plea hidden within the folds and twists of his jokes and quips. Be careful. Don’t die. I can’t lose you. You’re precious to me.

You’ll be okay. You have to be — he won’t allow anything otherwise. But if he’d known last week that you’d end up like this, would he have said those things out loud? He doesn’t think so. He’s cowardly in that way.

A few moments later, Shoko straightens up. Immediately reaches into the pocket of her lab coat and pulls out a cigarette and a rusting lighter, and is puffing out clouds of bitter air just seconds later.

Shit. That’s not a good sign.

Shoko sighs. Rubs at her dark undereye circles and only makes them worse, taps her cigarette so that the ash falls to the floor. “I know what it is.”

Well fucking tell him instead of keeping it in!

“Oh?” Satoru says instead, leaning forward onto his knees. “What is it, then?”

“She used her technique on herself.”

“She does that all the time to heal."

“She didn’t heal herself,” Shoko snaps — and Satoru remembers that he’s not the only person you’re important to. That while he and Suguru had gotten ahead of themselves being the strongest, they’d left you and Shoko to stroll humbly along your own paths. The only girls in their year. The only person Shoko could fully confide in, really — at least in Tokyo —, the only person who had bothered to check up on her when she drank too much, smoked too much. Even if Shoko hated it.

Shoko is upset. Satoru doesn't what to do with it.

(Alcohol — she likes alcohol. Satoru reminds himself to pick up the most expensive bottle of the stuff the next time he's out.)

(No. She’s trying not to drink so much, isn’t she?)

(Whatever. Life is short.)

“She dissipated herself.”

Satoru knows about your technique intimately enough that it immediately gives him pause — but he runs over the details in his head, just in case, as if it isn’t already imprinted on the flesh of his skull.

Your cursed technique allows you to disassemble items down to their most basic units — subatomic particles — while your reverse cursed technique allows you to reassemble them. Items can be reassembled into their previous form, or to another related form, but you cannot exceed the item’s natural entropy threshold. If you do, the item cannot be reverted back to a physical state, and you will bear the brunt of the resulting shift in energy.

It's a finicky technique. Finicky and fickle and the risks tend to outweigh the rewards — but you'd always used it so elegantly, so gracefully. Even when you doubted yourself, you had a handle on it. Satoru admired that about you.

("You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference."

You'd said that to him once, when he brought you and Yuuji to lunch. You'd acted like it didn't bother you but he could tell it did — he didn't need his Six Eyes to notice how your nose twitched and your eyes narrowed, displeased.

But Satoru believes in two types of helpfulness.

The kind he is — powerful, needed, a force to be reckoned with. Someone that keeps things afloat, that acts as a beacon in the dark.

Then there's the other kind. The usefulness of pawns, of bait. Necessary, but not fundamental. Desired, sure, but rarely crucial.

You've always been the first. Always. You and him and Suguru and Shoko, always. Even he could admit that.)

You disassembled yourself into atoms. Into nothingness. You lost your mind, your body, your energy, everything—

Satoru sighs. He's been doing that a lot today.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Satoru says. His throat is covered in a layer of sawdust. He can’t remember the last time he had to actually focus on not throwing up. “Why would she do that?”

“She talked about it, before,” Shoko says. She leans against the bed you’re laying on, gazing over her shoulder — and the way she looks at you turns his stomach, the upturn of her brows, the sad downturn of her mouth. It’s as if you’re already dead. As if she’s looking at a living corpse. “Just… as a theory. A last resort to help her get away, if needed, but—”

“But what?”

“She knew she didn’t have the power for it,” Shoko mutters. Breathes another puff of cigarette smoke. “If she tried, she'd end up just… fading away. In breaking herself up, she'd negate the cursed energy that gives her the power to put herself together.

"And the side effects would be… well, you can see that for yourself. Stupid, so fucking stupid…”

“Well, obviously she has the power for it,” Satoru murmurs. “Or made the power for it.”

“A binding vow?”

Satoru shrugs. Clenches his jaw, watching as you scratch at the faux-leather underneath you. “It'd make sense. Explains how she put herself back together."

(But for what? What could have driven you to such lengths?

A curse like Jogo wouldn't be all too difficult for you to defeat.

So who…?)

Shoko hums. She stares into space for a moment, eyes unfocused, and for a moment Satoru sees her younger self — the one who just started smoking, just started drinking, who carried the weight of all the people she healed (and those she'd failed to) tucked in her pocket. The Shoko that would make sarcastic quips and humble them when they needed humbling, but humour them when she knew the outcome would be funny.

A time when they had very little responsibility. Even him, shackled with it since birth. Comparing his duty from then to now is like comparing a boulder to the weight of the world.

He feels very old, suddenly, at 28.

"There's nothing I can do for her," Shoko says, softly. Regretfully. "If she did make a binding vow, I can only assume she made a condition about returning to normal. If so…"

Satoru can’t do anything about it, basically, she explains. Your condition is one that will only heal with time, patience, and the odd boost from Shoko’s technique. Maybe, she says — she's still unsure about that last bit.

It sickens him. It festers as a deep, curdling annoyance in his bones, his uselessness. It’s a sensation he had only felt once before, standing before the slumped-over body of Geto Suguru. Nothing he could do for him except put him out of his misery, and even then that felt like a cop-out.

So… he can't go directly after the thing that had forced your hand, because they had left no trace. He can't heal you, either. He can't take care of you while your body repairs itself, while your supposed binding vow returns you to your rightful state — that duty will fall to Shoko, or one of her interns.

He can do nothing. And Satoru is nothing if he cannot be of use.

Nine months after the events of the culling games, Satoru enters your room to see you sitting up — eyes wide, eyes seeing, and it only takes you fixing him with a single look to know that you're okay.

(Subjectively. Relatively.)

Suguru Getou — Kenjaku — is finally dead — exorcised. He’s not sure which is the right word to use. All of his allies, killed or exorcised too. Nanami, murdered. Nobara, comatose. Yaga, dead. Inumaki, Maki, Okkotsu, maimed; the great houses of sorcery destroyed and rebuilt in the image of Satoru’s will.

Itadori Yuuji — dead. Sukuna Ryomen — exorcised.

Adding up the gains, subtracting the losses, carrying the ones… Both sides seem to have lost pretty evenly. And he should be happy about it, too; things could have turned out much worse. And they would have, too, if he hadn’t pushed himself out of his pouting and escaped the prison realm — a feat that was half out of spite and half concern for the outside world, and maybe a little curiosity. Rage. Longing to see the bastard who’d stolen Suguru’s face and body, who dared to reanimate him and rouse him from peace — longing to slaughter the thing that had rendered you bedridden and half-mad for months.

He had been the one to kill Kenjaku. It only felt right to be the one to do so — he’d killed Suguru, after all; had been the one to leave him defenceless and open to manipulation. If Suguru hadn’t been dead, Kenjaku wouldn’t have been able to steal his body.

Of course, Satoru ignored the fact that the very last rotten, desperate dregs of Suguru would have enjoyed Kenjaku’s plan — it was the only way he was able to keep his eyes open when he blasted his brain to bits. It was hard enough the first time.

All of these things sit on his tongue, bitter and souring and curdling — every detail of the battle, of the culling games, the colleagues and peers and students he’d held in his arms, the ones he’d comforted as they slipped away, the ones he’d reassured and promised.

(Pink, blood-covered hair; a smile that never dimmed, a nervous murmur (“It’s okay, Gojo-sensei. I know what I got into.”). The shaky laugh that had followed.)

Satoru’s hands tremble at his sides.

Your eyes are wet with tears when you look at him.

“How long has it been?” You croak — voice dry and cracked with disuse, whining in some parts, low and wheezing in others. Bone-deep, the fear in your voice, and for good reason — things had already been at a boiling point when you’d been taken down. Everything had moved past you. “Satoru—?”

Another selfish decision on his part: he doesn’t tell you. At least, not now, when the words threaten to vomit out of his mouth, when the pain is suddenly too fresh and too raw.

(For one strange, too-long second, he’s reminded of his mother — weak, presence-less, powerless as she was. Empty-eyed and unhappy. She was hardly even a mother with the amount of governesses he had.

Somehow, though, every problem would seem worse when her eyes were upon him; every cut and bruise was more painful; every slight against him a grave insult; every mistake a cause for self-pity and temper tantrums — and none of it mattered, as long as she took him into her arms.

A rarity, yes, but… maybe one of the only fond memories he has of his childhood in the Gojo household.

Satoru feels like a kid again — suddenly sniffling from a bruise he swore didn’t hurt, his mother ready to pat his head and baby him and coo his name. Satoru. Not Gojo-sama.)

He crosses the room and plants himself upon your bed and takes you into his arms for the first time in months, and—

And for the first time since Yuuji’s death, since Nanami’s, since Suguru’s, since your injuries—

He cries. Openly. Heaving, chest-wrecking sobs; red, wet nose and ugly whimpers. It’s overwhelming. It’s cathartic. It makes the pain worse, for a second, before it begins to taper out in a bruising wave; with it, he remembers his darling underclassmen who died, his colleagues that he’d wanted to live at least a few more years; he remembers that despite years of being told so, he’s not God — he couldn’t stop Yuuji’s death, or Suguru’s, or Toge losing his arms, or—

“Thirteen months,” he manages to get out. “Thirteen months — you couldn’t talk, or move properly, or—”

Satoru grabs handfuls of you — hair, waist, belly, it doesn’t matter. He can feel you beneath his skin. Rushing, pounding blood, cells, micromolecules — and he doesn’t need to, but he engages his Six Eyes for a moment — actually engages them, doesn’t let them run unconsciously in the background. It’s a comfort to let himself see each receptor interact with each signal on each plasma membrane, to let himself see the tissues that formed organs that formed organ systems forming you, breathing, living, sentient—

He kisses you — or you kiss him, he’s not sure — but it’s far more intimate, far more tender than any touch he’d delivered unto you; hands clutching the sides of your face, your fingers digging into his wrists. You’re crying, salt on his tongue — and he only knows they’re not his own tears because you give a great, shuddering sob when you part, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“I had to,” you gasp, and he wants to tell you that he knows, he knows, he doesn’t blame you, sweet girl — did what you had to do to live, to survive— “I had to—”

“Only go where I can follow, okay?" His eyes are burning again, voice cracking with the promise, regardless of the fact that he’d rather you do it 100 times over than die. But it's the only way he can tell you he loves you without telling you he loves you, and he can't remember the last time he said the words aloud.

(He does. He remembers. And he remembers that Suguru wouldn't mind if he said it to you — that Suguru loved you as he loves you. And he remembers that Suguru is dead and doesn't have an opinion anymore, so it really doesn't matter, anyways.)

Satoru calls Shoko when he rights himself, barely pulling back from your embrace to text her something barely understandable and hurried. You don't say much while he does; still acclimating to being aware, being awake — he catches you with your eyes screwed shut and your nose buried in his jacket, fingers tight on his arms again. Grounding yourself. Reminding yourself that you're alive, and with him.

Shoko scolds you between rummaging around for a thermometer and scribbling your prescription in messy, barely legible cursive — calls you a dumb bitch for doing what you did, tells you that you owe her a bottle of wine and a trip to a fancy hot spring, and it all seems a little lighter.

(She cries a little — if the slight glassiness of her eyes can be considered crying. Satoru only teases her a bit for it, though you're quick to mention how he'd blubbered like a baby when he saw you, and he's humbled quickly.

It's the most normal he's felt in weeks.)

Shoko clears away after a few hours — gives you strict orders to rest, and sends him a knowing look that he's not all too sure of the meaning of.

"You look tired, Satoru," you finally say when you're alone again. Your smile is sad, knowing, and Satoru curses it all. You deserve a grace period, a moment of ignorance before the grief settles in. "What happened?"

But when have you ever wanted a moment of ignorance? When has he ever been able to hide the truth of things from you? When have you ever been anything but his equal, his confidant?

"Everything," Satoru says. A short, humourless laugh punctuates his single-worded sentence. "Everything, crybaby. Everything that we thought could happen, and everything we thought couldn't."

A flicker of a smile — uncomfortable, flat. Your eyes flicker down to the bland, starched sheets of the hospital bed. "Did you see him?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate. There's really only one person you both mean when you say him.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

Satoru shifts in his seat. "An ancient sorcerer named Kenjaku. His cursed technique allowed him to transplant his brain between bodies and possess them."

"And he chose Suguru."

"Yes. And many others, too."

"And you killed him."

"Yes. For Suguru, and for you. But mostly for Suguru.”

“I’m glad,” you say, but your fingers twist the sheets tightly. “When I saw him, I was angry. So angry, I… I wanted to kill him. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, and I knew he would kill me, but for a second—”

He understands. God, does he understand. “You wanted to take the risk.” No matter the cost, no matter the damage to your own body. Anger like that consumes.

“I did.” You swallow. Your eyes meet his. “It was like… adding insult to injury. As if it’s not enough that Suguru is dead, but this — this Kenjaku has to puppeteer him too. Disturb his peace."

The wind rustles the trees outside. The late-afternoon gold of the sun settles along the horizon, a burning orange that stretches the shadows and warms the wind and turns the side of your face honey-soft and sad.

“But I realised that I was probably the first person he’d revealed himself to," you continue, "so I was the only one that could warn you."

Always thinking about the good of others. It was another thing he admired about you — Nanami, too. Satoru, for all his big talk about changing the world of jujutsu, about being better than those who came before him, is really quite selfish.

It's why his hands had trembled when he'd had to kill Yuuji. It's why he couldn't put Suguru in the ground the first time they met after he became a curse user. Even when he knows things are necessary, he tries his damnedest to hold on — just for the chance of it all. The chance that Suguru could change his mind. The chance that Sukuna could be removed from Yuuji without him needing to die.

"And…”

One snow-white brow raises. “And?”

“You’ve already lost too many people that you love,” you say simply, shrugging — like it's a simple fact, no need for experimentation, no need for an academic paper complete with its own abstract and footnotes. Like you've always known, in some little way, but you're only able to bring yourself to say it now.

And Satoru — well, it's no secret to him, is it? He's known it since he was 13, 14, 15 — had a bit of a buffering period, sure — and now here at 28, he knows it just as well. The point is that you're not supposed to know. Not while you're still healing from Suguru and… being attacked by fake-Suguru.

Regardless of what he knows and how long he's known it, Satoru feels his throat begin to close up, twisting and turning and holding his breath tight. He doesn’t like the feeling.

“Love?” He echoes. His voice has gotten a little empty. It's too soon for him to say it aloud, he thinks. It was okay when he whispered it in his head after making love to you; it was easy when he grinned at your scrunched up nose and scoffed comments and thought fuck, I love you. It was easy when he could pretend it was a simple, passing comment, a trick of the mind — but having it said as fact?

Not so simple. But you don’t need to know that. “Is that so?"

You don't seem to notice his momentary pause — a lifetime of rambling in his time, a second's hesitation in regular time — too busy staring at the space where his fingers stretch apart over the sheets. Just inches away from yours. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Oh.

"Oh." Satoru blinks back. "Oh, yeah. Best friends, you and I, crybaby."

"I know it's normal for us," you say, ploughing ahead, "to just lose and lose and keep losing, but… I'll be honest. I never fully got used to it, and I don't want to."

He wishes he could say the same, but he can't.

He understands, in some capacity. Nobody wants to see the people around them die, a continuous and vicious cycle. Nobody wants to get so used to loss that most funerals no longer hold any emotional significance. But getting used to it had saved him. Getting used to it helped him act without consequence, without remorse, and that's what the battlefield both needs and requires of him.

He could count on both hands the people he wants to save in this world — about half of them were dead, at this point. A lot of them died while he was imprisoned. Two, he had to kill himself. He swore he'd protect the rest with all Six Eyes, every non-existent boundary of his Limitless.

So Satoru doesn't care much about getting used to death and dying and loss and grief. As long as you're okay, he's okay. As long as his job as the Strongest is done, everything is as it should be.

He doesn't say that to you, of course. You'd probably curse him out and call him a heartless bastard. Instead, he nods, hums and agrees and tells you the names of those who died when you work up the courage to ask.

It's a long night. It's an even longer list.

10.

Shoko keeps you for observation for 10 days after you wake up — three days longer than necessary, but she won't hear it from him, no matter how many times he reminds her that technically she falsified her degree—

He's joking. Mostly.

Satoru volunteers himself to help you back home, taking with you the plastic bag filled with your cleaned sorcerer's garb and weapon. He carries it over his shoulder along with two teddy bears, a half-wilted bouquet of tulips and a half-eaten box of chocolates (all courtesy of the second years — except for the chocolates, which are half-eaten because of him). He winds his other arm around your waist even though you can walk perfectly fine, but — it's just in case. Purely precautionary. For once, you don’t argue about being babied.

In the midday sun outside, you tilt your head back and close your eyes and smile. For a moment, it's as if the sadness has melted away from you — the tears you shed over Yuuji, Nanami, Suguru. The tears you shed over him, and he wasn't even dead. Satoru is glad your eyes are closed — even beneath his sunglasses, it's painfully obvious that he's staring.

You decide to take the subway home — it's my first time outside in almost a year, you remind him, so he pushes down any arguments he might have and enjoys the too-cramped journey towards Akihabara. You’re both shoved standing together, between a panicked looking man holding a tray of coffee and a woman with her child hanging about her legs, your head bobbing against his chest as the train moves.

For a moment — as the train passes momentarily out of the underground and becomes encapsulated in light — it's easy to drown in the normalcy of it all. For a moment, he sees himself looking in as a stranger would. Here, he isn't the Six Eyes; just a simple man taking his girlfriend home, standing close on the train, wishing to be closer. Riding home to your shared apartment where he'll peel oranges and feed them to you, where he'll lay his head in your lap and hold your hands to his heart.

His nose wrinkles. He prefers reality, he thinks, where he can be powerful and have you by his side; where he can protect you, uphold peace, change the jujutsu world for the best — and then go home all the same, and have you to hold.

"What are you thinking about?" You mumble against his collar.

"Oranges," he replies.

"I don't have any at home," you say, "or if I did, they're rotted."

"Don't worry — we cleaned your kitchen up. Me and the kids." It was an afternoon of Yuuji attempting to shove rotting potatoes in Nobara's face. That was before Shibuya; before everything, really.

"Oh? You got your hands dirty?"

Satoru tries to not think about that same beaming, smiling Yuuji's last breaths. "Of course! This is me we're talking about, honey. I was front and centre."

You snort, soft against his neck. It's a wonder he went almost a year without you. "Housewife Satoru. I'll keep it in mind."

When you return to your apartment, you shower together for the first time in forever. He spends extra time and care massaging shampoo into your scalp, detangling each knot; spends extra time rinsing the suds out, tilting your head back with a gentle tap to your chin.

Steam clogs his mind. Almond shower oil and citrusy shampoo fog his senses. The realisation that you could have potentially been taken away from him sits heavy like a stone in his stomach — why it hadn't sunk in in the past, oh, 13 months or so, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he's terribly bad at caring for precious things — but if he could, if it's possible, he'll remould and reshape his hands, his heart, his mind, just for the chance—

"Satoru," you breathe against his lips, "Bow your head."

(Bow your head, you say. He'd kneel if you asked him to.)

You brush your hands through his hair; rinse him free of suds and bubbles and kiss his temples as you shut off the water. What is supposed to be healing for you is quickly becoming therapy for him — muscles relaxing, mind clearing of all responsibilities, mournings, obligations. All he knows are the soft, newly washed sheets beneath him and your nose in the crook of his neck.

It's a strange sensation, the lack of tension, his brain not working overtime. But hardly unwelcome.

11.

Satoru asks you if you saw anything when you were indisposed. Memories, flashbacks, prophecies? Blurry half-truths, nonsensical babbling? You tell him that you can't really remember — and you can't, not really, but you do remember one thing.

When you were 11, you met Satoru and Suguru for the first time. It's that memory that you can remember playing in your head, over and over and over again: Satoru and Suguru, scrawny and still-faced in their yukata.

Satoru was from a great, traditional house. Suguru was not, but upon discovery of his powers, was taken into unofficial custody of the higher-ups. In most circumstances, you wouldn’t have been allowed within two feet of them — but the elders had deemed your cursed technique a great gift, and so you were warily accepted into the upper echelons of jujutsu society, a stranger, a foreigner.

Introducing you to the most powerful sorcerers your age was nothing more than political play, of course. The adults followed behind as you walked through the grand grounds of the Gojo family — (maintained by a team of 12 gardeners, according to the Lady of the house) — muttering and scheming between themselves, making sure nothing would go awry.

Nothing did, of course. Satoru picked his nose and Suguru told him it was rude and they bickered for a while — Satoru bickered, Suguru replied calmly and quickly. Satoru asked you if your technique was good or bad ("No such thing," interjected Suguru) and whether or not you think you could beat him in a fight.

(That last question was to stroke his own ego, of course. Everyone knew he was the strongest sorcerer born in the last century.)

At some point, Satoru made you cry.

You can't remember what about, all these years later — you'd think you'd remember, considering the fact that you know the amount of gardeners employed by the Gojo estate — but you know that you had tried to stop it; fists balled, teeth gritted, full-body heaves. Crying was the last thing you had wanted to do. Crying meant weakness. Weakness meant being taken advantage of.

But you were so scared. It was all so alien. You wanted to go home, but home didn’t exist anymore. You wanted your mother, but your mother was long gone. All you had left were stone-faced adults that were only interested in your abilities.

Suguru had been confused at your reaction to what he took as a harmless quip — a little callous, as most children are — but he had reassured you nonetheless.

"Don’t cry. Satoru speaks before he thinks," he'd said, nudging your shoulder. "Sometimes you have to ignore him and he'll be so bored that he has to think."

"I can hear you," Gojo huffed. "I didn't mean to."

"See?" Suguru smiled. "Works like a charm."

Yes, Suguru had always been there to protect you. Emotionally, at least. He was willing to be kinder to people. More gentle, more forgiving. He'd believed that it was his duty as a sorcerer to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, and—

Well. That had changed, by the end, but having that memory replay in your head made you see the bigger picture of it all. Suguru's place in things. Your place in things.

You'd loved Suguru, no doubt. And you’ll probably always carry a piece of him with you — you'd hate to do otherwise. You’ll carry his kindness and his jokes and his catlike smile, all tucked away in bubble wrap somewhere in your chest cavity — but you will never disregard his wrongdoings. Since his death, you'd argued against the two sides of him; felt guilty for loving him after what he did, felt guilty for hating him after loving him and knowing him for as long as you did. Two halves of a whole. Darkness in light and light in darkness.

He was both of those things. You love him, but you don’t forgive him, and you probably never will. He will never again be the boy that comforted you after Satoru made you cry; he will never again be the boy who let you braid his hair back. He won't be the boy who slaughtered innocents, either — death's funny like that. Indiscriminately doing away with both the good and the bad.

And that's okay. Kenjaku is dead, after all, and Suguru can finally rest — and with him, your warring mind.

12.

Midnight strikes and you're still awake. You don’t even seem tired, and that's after a long shower and takeout and a movie. Usually you'd be a drooling mess by now, but tonight is different. Feels different. Satoru isn’t sure if it's just a year's worth of built up sexual tension or something else, but he feels it regardless.

He's flopped on his stomach, hair still damp; you're curled up in the shape of a C, skin reflecting the light of the TV. He might visit Nobara tomorrow. Megumi usually goes on Wednesdays, too — they could make a day out of it, and you could tag along, too. He's got a craving for the pistachio macarons they sell near—

"I'm in love with you," you announce.

Satoru doesn't bother asking you to repeat yourself because he knows he didn’t mishear. It isn't the knowing that shocks him — he's not stupid, and you wear your heart on your sleeve — it's the sudden, quick verbal affirmation of it that catches him off guard. After all, haven’t you two been putting this all off? Yearning for a dead man? Being pulled from two opposing poles?

He turns his head towards you, opens his mouth to ask you just that, and—

"After Suguru, I thought I'd never be happy again," you say, and you’re smiling like you didn't just say something inherently heartbreaking. But no, you look fond — content, even, blinking slowly at him. "And I thought I'd never feel for someone as strong as I did for him. But here I am: happy, and in love, and okay."

Satoru opens his mouth — then closes it quickly. For some reason, he remembers something Suguru said to you when you were younger: "Satoru speaks before he thinks." But he wants to think about this — about what he should say. How does he respond to you quite literally baring your heart to him? How does he tell you what he wants to tell you, what you deserve to hear? He's never been good with real, genuine words — emotional shit never came easy to him out loud. His thoughts are much more concise than his mouth is, but he guesses it's because it moves so fast in comparison.

Pity you can't read his mind. It'd make things much easier.

“You don’t have to say anything,” but he wants to, don't you know? "You don't have to pretend. It’s okay. I know that… maybe you don’t love me as much as you loved Suguru, but I know you love me in some way, at least—”

Satoru frowns — strings of ideas and thoughts bunching up and stopping short as your words register. “As much as I— hey, stop putting words in my mouth—"

"The truth is," you continue on, "I feel lighter than I have in years. I don't dread life so much anymore. I don't dread you anymore."

"You… dreaded me?"

You hum. Your legs stretch down, arms forward, face scrunched up in a passing yawn. "I'm not stupid to think you didn’t know how I felt, but… I hated that I was so obvious about it. Even when I was fighting with myself about it, I was obvious. It made me hate being around you, sometimes."

You sigh, then — not as heavy and melancholy as they used to be, no. This is a sigh of relief, of cathartic release.

Satoru blinks, and attempts to wade through the seventy-or-so compulsions telling him to make a joke, to laugh, to tease you. Maybe he should actually be serious for once. Say it straight and say it firm, so you can't take anything the wrong way. If there was ever a time for him to not beat around the bush…

"I've liked you since I was 17," he confesses, finally. "Me and Suguru, we were together, y’know, and we were happy. And Suguru loved you, and somewhere along the line I… began to do the same, but we were so young and then… Everything changed so fast. Everything broke so fast.”

Your fingers brush against his, and he breathes in a sigh. Your eyes are wide and watery, low light reflecting like glitter in your eyes.

"Sometimes, it keeps me up at night," Satoru says, laughing a pained sort of laugh. "Out of everything, that's what keeps me up — that we could've been happy together, all three of us. It never would’ve been enough to make him change, but…"

At least you would’ve known what it was like. To be happy together in that way. To be content. To find your places in the world, hand and hand. To know what it was like — even if Suguru’s fall from grace was inevitable — so you wouldn’t have to keep wondering until your untimely, gruesome, sorcerer-style deaths, or whatever.

Back then, Satoru didn’t understand why Suguru never told you how he felt. He couldn't understand how he could be content watching from afar, looking but never touching. What Satoru wanted, he learned to take; the Strongest didn’t need to ask for permission, only forgiveness.

He learned quickly that some things were better left unsaid. And now, 28 years old, half of his friends, students, colleagues dead — he understands even more.

He remembers how Yuuji had tried to stave off tears when he realised he had to die; remembers how his student’s throat had felt being crushed in his hands. He loved Yuuji like a little brother. Like a son, even. He was family. He was his student, and yet his death had been necessary, and Satoru battled with it. It allowed him to succeed in the mission he was born to complete. But he had given up Yuuji in return.

There is no curse more twisted than love.

Therein lays the problem, he supposes. The second you love someone, you run the risk of having them end up like Yuuji did. Like Suguru did. Like Nanami did. When you are burdened with incredible power like Satoru is — like Suguru was — you must be able to sacrifice for it. The closer that people are, the more likely they are to be caught in the crossfire, the more likely you are to be hurt. Suguru hoped to avoid that at all costs. It was easier to watch from afar, less painful.

Satoru is a tad more selfish. Which is bad, he knows, because he's too prepared to sacrifice. Even now. Even now, he knows that if caught between saving you and saving society, he would be forced to — to—

Satoru inhales. The only thing for it is to simply stop things from getting that far.

He could explain all this to you. He could talk circles around you about it, in fact, but the truth is that it's all conjecture. Suguru isn’t here to tell him why he did what he did. He can’t speak for him, no matter how well he knew him.

"I don't know why Suguru never told you," Satoru says instead. He folds his fingers tighter, taking yours in his grip as he does so. "Guess that's something he took with him to the grave."

"I've stopped wondering," you say. “I’ll never stop regretting, but I’ve stopped wondering. I can’t stay rooted in the past any more. It was doing more harm than good."

And you raise your interlocked hands — nestle them under your chin and screw your eyes shut, like you're wishing on the evening star, like he's something precious to be treasured. All of a sudden he's 17 and confused about why he can't stop staring at you. He doesn’t have Suguru to tease him about it, now.

“I’ll never forget him,” Satoru announces — a warning, or a reassurance, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, and whether or not you like his truth is not his concern. He respects you too much to lie about this to you.

Your lips twitch upwards, a phantom of a smile. “Neither will I. "

"I'll never forget you, either."

The smile grows, blooms, blossoms, until it stretches bright and full across your face. The first smile of yours he's seen in a while that wasn't at half-mast, or tinged with sadness, or pain, or fatigue.

"How lucky I am," you whisper, "to be known by you, Gojo Satoru."

It should be the other way around, he thinks.

(12.5.

It's the first time he makes love in years.

Satoru has always fucked you. Always. No matter how tired you both were, no matter how injured — he'd always force himself to be rougher, force his touches to not linger as much as he wanted them to.

If he felt too much, he'd crack a joke instead of drowning in it; if he felt his eyes beginning to burn he'd bury his nose in the crook of your neck and push it down. If he thought of long, dark hair and cat-like eyes, he'd tighten your grip in his hair and the shock of pain would clear his mind. He fucked quick, and when he was done he'd lay far away enough that he couldn't feel your skin against his.

Tonight, he lets himself love and be loved again.

You're on top of him, ass flush against his thighs, taking every inch he has to give you; his hands have found your jaw, thumbs brushing back and forth across your dewy, sweat-slick cheeks. One hand of yours clasps around his wrist; the other bands to his chest, nails digging red into his skin. Your cursed energy blooms, flushes, flourishes when he opens his eyes to look at you.

He sees every pore, every hair, every dimple, every broken capillary, every scratch and scrape. Every part of you, bending to him in some places, unfalteringly stubborn in others.

"Look at you," he mumbles, blinking dumbly. "So… pretty…"

You snort something like a laugh, and continue: up, down, up, down. Slow, grinding gyrations of your hips that make his head spin pleasantly; and with his Limitless nullified, he feels every inch of skin, every tensing of muscle, every scrape and press fully and completely. He’s never felt so engulfed in it before — the sensations of it all, the warmth, your scent, your weight above him.

He'd drown in you, if he could. Take you in his mouth and nose and ears and everywhere, until he's left gasping for air and grappling for something of substance. Maybe once upon a time he would keep those thoughts to himself, for whatever reason — but now he's allowed to be selfish in his affections, allowed to give more than surface-level compliments and vague declarations of love.

Between pleasure-ridden shudders and sloppy, wet kisses, he breathes:

"I want you everywhere," he says, "All the time. Over me, on me, in me—"

You raise a brow, impudent and teasing in a way that makes his abdomen tighten. "In you?"

And maybe he didn’t mean it in the way that you took it, but he plays along anyways, waggling his brows. "You heard me."

"You're terrible."

"I'm not joking," Satoru argues — but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice quietens, when he arches up eagerly to meet your lips—

When his grip on your lower back becomes painfully tight, when his lips part in a moan and his eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, hips rutting up to meet yours, and—

His peak rises to greet him — and his heart swells all the while. He finds himself clawing for you as his orgasm builds, hands clambering against your back, your neck, your hair, until (with a great, shaking breath, may he add): "Fuck, I — mmf, I love you—"

It carries him off to a state of fuzzy, empty-minded ignorance — pleasure tightening his entire body, fizzling from the tips of his fingers to his curling toes. Your name on his tongue, slurred and mellifluous, his smile dizzy and drunk.

As you smile down at him, so unbearably fond, Satoru thinks that he doesn’t mind saying I love you aloud after all.)

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khuzena · 7 months ago

Text

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.

Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting

Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this

Silverwolf: Istfg

[seen by Bladie]

His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.

He feels sick.

This misery of his never going away.

“I have to go.”

He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”

So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.

He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.

“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.

“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)

Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.

In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.

“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.

”Is it you Blade?”

He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.

”Are you okay?”

”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.

He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.

But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.

He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”

Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.

“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”

”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.

You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.

“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.

He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.

“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.

So he asks again, “What do I do?”

Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”

He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.

Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.

He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.

”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.

He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.

Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.

“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”

You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”

”I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.

“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”

He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.

”Is it okay if I give up?”

No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.

So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?

“It’s okay, right?”

”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”

He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?

“Thank you.”

No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.

You two were just the same.

He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.

He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.

But how could you, how did you do it?

A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.

Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.

What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.

Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#what have i done #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #honkai star rail angst #blade x reader #blade smut #blade angst #blade fluff #i wont take that back #suffer with me #hsr angst #yingxing #blade hsr #hsr x you #honkai star rail fluff

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hxney-lemcn · 1 year ago

Text

Love Is Scary — Eleventh Doctor x gn! reader

summery: Doctor takes reader to a planet that he thinks they'll love. Reader has a bit more on mind than just the cute animals that inhabit the planet.

tw: Fear of unrequited love (spoilers, it is very requited)

a/n: @tonyiloveyou asked for confessions and I've been wanting to write it anyways so here y'all go

wc: 2.4k

Master List

(This is a part of a one shot series: Part One | Part Two)

“See!” The Doctor spoke proudly. “Not everything has to be a life or death situation.”

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Doctor,” I replied, watching the maroon and pink grass flow with the wind. It was quite extraordinary really. The pink tips of the grass swaying was somewhat hypnotic. The trees behind us were a rich purple and red, seeming to brush against the sky. Oh what a sky it was. The atmosphere was transparent, revealing the stars and planets that lay beyond.

“I’ve wanted to bring someone here for quite some time actually,” The Doctor started. “Not the best place for humans though.”

“A shame,” I muttered. “Are you sure you’ll be able to sit around with me and be bored for a bit?”

“Darling, anything with you is far from boring,” He replied seriously, that stupidly soft look in his eye once more. “Besides! Mundane is good, remember?”

I rolled my eyes in amusement, something I found myself doing often in the madman's presence, “Pretty sure you only said that so I wouldn’t feel bad about the lack of adventure I lived.”

“Lack of adventure?” The brown haired timelord asked incredulously. “Are all the things we’ve done together not adventurous enough?”

“Doctor, in the entire span of my life, I’ve mainly lived on Earth hiding amongst humans,” I explained. “Compared to you, I’ve barely explored anything.”

“Oh my sweet, sweet (y/n),” Doctor muttered, closing the distance between us. He held my face softly between his hands and I felt my heart race at the touch. “There’s nothing wrong with that. And no one can really compare to me now can they?” I stared at him blankly as he pulled away, a smug grin resting on his lips.

“I hate you,” I grumbled.

“No you don’t,” He replied effortlessly.

I turned around, facing the forest, hating how right he was, “Are there any life forms?”

“Some rudimentary animal species,” Doctor explained. “Mainly in the forest, but there are some in the water as well.”

“Like on Earth?” I asked, glancing back at him, only to startle at how close he got.

“Yes,” He nodded, hazel eyes once again on me. It felt like burning with his entire attention only on me, I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. “Well no, but yes if it will help you understand better.”

“I’m not human,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I can see the future of any being or thing. Give me more credit.”

“Right,” Doctor cleared his throat, adjusting his bowtie after. “I’m just used to-”

“Human companions,” I finished for him. “I know. I’m assuming the beings on this planet are connected to the planet, like a hivemind of sorts.”

“Exactly!” The Doctor clapped, once again holding my head in his hands, leaning forward to place a kiss on my forehead before hesitating. I stood there with bated breath as he leaned a little higher, right above my third eye, and placed a kiss to my hairline. “As brilliant as ever.”

I hated this. I hated this warm feeling that engulfed me at the affectionate actions. The want and need that filled through me. The loneliness I knew would follow soon after. He was closer than I expected when I opened my eyes. His stare, oh that stare. It was so warm, so loving, like he never wanted this moment to end. I didn’t want this moment to end, but I also didn’t want it to exist.

It sparked that familiar feeling. The feeling of hope. Of the possibility that he felt the same way I did. Damn Rory for putting that thought into my head. I know he was just trying to help, but Rory didn’t understand how complicated this was. Or…was it? But whenever it seemed like the Doctor and I would step over a boundary we couldn’t go back from, he’d change the subject. Which in turn would take that spark of hope and snuff it once more. A tortuous cycle that I set myself up for every time.

“Come on,” He broke the silence. “I want to show you something.”

I blinked, coming back to reality, “Was this not what you wanted to show me?” Once again, the moment was averted.

“No,” He shook his head, his brown hair falling out of place…not that it ever was in place. “Well yes, but only a part of it.” Holding his hand out to me, he smiled brightly and repeated, “Come on.”

I decided to try and stop overthinking everything. Just to let go and live in the moment. The moment where the Doctor took me to the most beautiful planet I’ve ever seen. Where he’s staring at me like I’ve hung the stars. Where he’s holding my hand oh so gently as we walk through a forest of vibrant purples and reds. For once, I’ll indulge myself, even if it’ll hurt later.

I felt breathless as we entered a clearing. The forest was dark (due to the sky being transparent to the cosmos), but the clearing was a bit brighter. A river rushed past, a dark navy blue that I was familiar with on Earth. A few of the animals that the Doctor spoke of stood by the river, watching us with curious eyes. No need to be afraid, not having come in contact with predators before. Reminds me of the Dodo. Those poor birds.

The Doctor kept walking, stopping only when he realized we weren’t holding hands anymore, “Come on dear, they won’t bite.”

I trailed after him, crouching down in front of a cream colored creature. I wasn’t exactly sure of the name, or if all the creatures on this planet shared one. In fact, the color pallet of this planet reminded me of red velvet in a way. Holding my hand out, I tried to get it to sniff me, to prove I was no threat. It only turned its head in confusion.

Leaning down next to me, the Doctor handed me some fruit. It was a bright orange, almost neon. I suppose its so it could stand out for the creatures to eat. Once more, I held my hand out, this time the creature didn’t hesitate to eat the fruit I held out to it.

“It's so cute!” I couldn’t help but smile as I turned to look at the Doctor. “Can we take one home?”

The Doctor paused, seeming to do a double take before asking, “Home?”

I paused to, unsure what I meant by that. Did I mean the house I called a home because it's where I slept? Or did I mean the Tardis, where I found solace in the fact that the Doctor was never far away? Or did I mean simply with him, with us, wherever we chose to go?

“Y-yeah,” I slightly stuttered, turning back to a different looking creature. I shrugged, “You know…”

“Would you like to go back?”

I looked at him in confusion, “Where?”

“Home,” He simply stated, eyes seemingly interested anywhere but me.

I worried my lip between my teeth, deciding to take a small leap, “I am home.” Petting one of the creatures seemed to help calm me, they were quite receptive to the pets. A fond smile reached my lips as even more creatures started to surround the two of us.

“You mean this planet?” The Doctor asked and I felt myself scoffing.

How could a brilliant timelord be so daft?

“I mean with you, stupid,” I rolled my eyes and slapped his shoulder lightly.

“Oh,” Such a simple reply. I kept my focus as even more animals gathered around. Some similar, others different. Don’t think. Everything is fine. “Dear, I think we should go now.”

I felt my heart drop. This was it, this was the rejection. The moment was slipping, and I wish it would just stop.

“Is…is it okay if we stay a little longer?” I asked, petting the small creature on my lap. “I like it here.”

“I wish I could say yes, dearest,” The Doctor whispered, closer than I realized. “But I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

My eyebrows furrowed, looking towards the Doctor, only to find him staring at the animals around us. When did there get to be so many? I stood up slowly, carefully placing the small creature that was on my lap on the ground. “They’re expecting more fruit,” I stated, their eyes following the Doctor and I.

“They won’t turn violent,” The Doctor reassured in a hushed tone. “But they may not want us to leave.”

“Darn,” I faked defeat. “I guess that means we’re stuck on this beautiful planet with the cutest creatures for the rest of our lives.”

The Doctor laughed lightly, “I don’t think the Ponds would be too happy if we admitted defeat so quickly.”

“Or,” I pointed out. “They would be disappointed finding out that we skipped out on a great opportunity.”

“Is this the same Amy we’re talking about?” He questioned with a glint in his eye.

“Is this the same Rory we’re talking about?” I countered.

“Touche.”

______

I watched from the railing as the Doctor did his little dance around the Tardis’ control board. No word about my comment. No reciprocation or clarity about whether he felt the same or not. Once again, changing the subject before the lines of our relationship could get too blurred. I wasn’t sure if I could deal with this heavy feeling on my chest any longer. I knew it would hurt, but not this much.

“So,” I trailed off, not sure where to even start.

“Once we pick up the Ponds, I was thinking of going to Drunun Z85, they’ve got some of the most excellent chefs there,” The Doctor started to ramble.

“Uhm, could we talk about something first?” I asked, clenching my fists to try to ground myself. I was okay, this will be okay.

Stopping his actions, he looked up to me, eyes wide and a slight smile, “Yes! Of course! Talking’s good, talking’s fun.” I tilted my head slightly as he rubbed his hands together and glanced around the room.

“Are you nervous?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“Me? Nervous? Never,” Waving his hands about, he went to fiddle some more with the console of the Tardis.

“Okayyyy,” I drawled. “I…was just hoping I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier. You know…me calling you…”

“Home,” The Doctor finished for me, that sad lonely look clouding his eyes, one I found often when I looked in a mirror. Once more he cleared his throat, “No, no I don’t mind.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of us. I fiddled with my fingers as the Doctor continued to pretend to be busy with the Tardis. I shouldn’t have said anything.

The Tardis’ lights flickering brought me out of my head. The Doctor also seemed to notice as his brows furrowed into the cute focused look he has. They both seemed to be having an internal conflict with each other before the lights went out completely.

“Oh come on…” The Doctor paused before whispering out ‘sexy’. “Don’t be this way.” There was no reaction and I never realized how dark it could be without lights on. I squinted, hoping my eyes would adjust to the dark, but there was absolutely no light, no sun, no star, that could potentially reflect light and help me see. “At least give us backup lights so we don’t hurt ourselves!” The Doctor shouted, sounding frustrated. Dim lights lit up the area. Barely might I add. Still, it was better than the literal void.

“Are you okay, love?” The Doctor asked. Well that’s a new one. Hearing him call me that hurt so nicely.

“What’s going on?” I asked, it was the only thing I could think of. “Why’d she shut down?”

“She’s being stubborn,” He replied.

“About what?”

“She wants me to admit something,” He sighed. “Something I’d rather keep to myself.”

“Oh,” I muttered, feeling disheartened. “You don’t have to tell me. Tardis, I’m sure it can be left unsaid.”

“At the same time…” The Doctor continued. “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this in.”

I walked up to his dark outline, reaching my hand out and accidentally touching his neck. I felt my way up to cupping his cheek.

“You know you can tell me anything Doc,” I whispered, brushing my thumb against his cheek. He’s reached out to me so many times before…was this my first time reaching out to him? My heart stuttered as he leaned into my touch. “I won’t judge, I’ll always be by your side.”

It was silent for a few beats. I waited for something, anything, with bated breath. What could he possibly admit? Why was the Tardis so adamant of me needing to know?

“I love you.”

He said it so softly I almost missed it. No, how could I miss something I’ve wished to hear for hundreds of years? The overwhelming sensation of love, confusion, and fear washed over me. I’ve wanted this for so long…too long. The yearning, the want for love, it had become a stability for me, something I could always rely on.

But this was a good change. Love was scary, but it was also beautiful.

“I love you too,” I replied without hesitation.

“Is this the part where we kiss?”

Moving my hand from his cheek to his neck, I pulled him into a kiss. It was clumsy at first, but we both were quick learners. My skin felt like it was on fire when his hands ghosted over my waist. Pulling away, I couldn’t help but notice the Tardis lights had turned back on.

“Okay,” The Doctor nodded, turning back to the panel. A giggle escaped him as he muttered to himself “They really kissed me, we kissed! Blimey, Amy won’t let me live this down…I won’t let me live this down.” His giddiness seemed to be infectious as I chuckled at his antics. I stopped him from flipping a switch by placing my hand on his shoulder. He turned to me, a bright smile on his lips. Before I could back out, I placed a quick kiss on his lips, just for the hell of it. I could do that now! Whenever I wanted!

“Are you trying to kill me?” The Doctor asked, his smile never faltering.

“Not a bad way to go out,” I replied with an equally bright grin.

“Not bad at all.”

#doctor who x reader #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11 doctor x reader #11th doctor #11 doctor #eleventh doctor #x reader #doctor who

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embersofhope-if · 2 years ago

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"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes that who would represent it."

Twenty-five years have passed since the rebellion, yet the price is still being paid by the Districts. Even though most people alive today had no part in the fight, they suffer the consequences of the Capitol's anger. The harsh reality of the Capitol's cruelty is revealed every year on July 4th, Reaping Day. On this day, two children from each of the 12 districts are randomly chosen to fight to the death in an arena until only a lone victor remains. Parents hold their children close and hope it isn't their child who will be ripped away from them, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it.

However, this year is different. This year marks the very first Quarter Quell, and parents don't have to worry about whether their children might be taken away because, for this once-in-a-lifetime event, they get to choose who goes into the arena. But there's no doubt in anyone's mind who's going in when the mayor has a child of his own - me.

Now it's my turn to play a true game of life or death. May the odds be ever in my favor

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Customize your appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build, clothing)

Choose how you interact with the Capitol and those of your District

Form new relationships and change the ones you already have

Train in the weapon of your choice yes including a bow

Try not to die<3

17+. Content warnings for graphic violence, child death, child abuse/neglect, starvation, murder

Creon Levesque ♤ The Mentor ♤ RO ♤ 19

A special friend in very special places. I met Creon when you were 12 years old at a dinner party my Uncle Keyon had brought me to in the Capitol. Maybe it was the fact that I was very obviously District or maybe it was something else entirely, but from that night forward, Creon and I have had an intense and strange relationship. And now they stand before me assuring me that with them as a mentor, everything will be alright. How they managed to get themselves as a mentor they won't tell me, but honestly, in the end, does it matter?

♤Creon is gender selectable by the player♤

Romance Route: Red flag of all red flags, forbidden love, different worlds, insta love (at least on Creons part)

Aurelius/Aurelia Weaver ♧ The District Partner ♧ RO ♧ 18

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at 16 to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they throw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8, and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes, all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me, and they're going to enjoy it.

♧ Aurel is always the opposite gender of Mc ♧

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers, Doomed Love, potential unrequited love, perhaps unrequited but actually requited love😏

Asher "Ash" Fairchild ♡ The Childhood Bestfriend ♡ 16

Ash was the first and only real friend I've had my entire life. They were practically the embodiment of everything good in the world. Everyone loved Ash, and when they had their name called for the 23rd reaping the shock and sorrow was felt throughout the entire District. Even walking up to the stage, they moved like a petal dancing through the wind. Their memory has haunted me every day for the past two years, and now I get to experience the same terror they felt in their final moments.

♡ There will be an option to be in a relationship with Ash before their games. Ash is also gender selectable by the player ♡

Romance Route: First love, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates

Soren Vesper ◇ The Mayor ◇ 46

The mayor of District 8, and my Father. A very stern man who prefers things to be done his way. I've never seen his mask of the harsh mayor who does everything the Capitol request ever break, that is until the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The change happened so fast that it scared me. A once mighty man who didn't care about the people of his district now begging them to choose anyone but his child to go into the games. At least I get to know my Father does care for me before I die.

Tribute and Other Profiles TBA

☆This is my second IF my main one is @shadowsofthegun-if if anyone is interested in being a goofy little cowboy and i have another IF @dustandshadows-if set in the world of the shadowhunter chronicles if anyone is interested in that as well. @konosadmaru is also my main if anyone wants to follow me on there☆

#embersofhope-if #soh-if #the hunger games #the hunger games if #choose your own adventure #cyoa #interactive games #survival game #text based game #if wip #wip #if game #twine game #twine #twine interactive fiction #promo post

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rpmusingsnmore · 4 months ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

feel free to change any pronouns or subjects (or reverse by adding "reverse" to the line).

the lover.

❛ maybe this is the way it's supposed to be. ❜

❛ it's no use. i'll be sick until you fall in love with me. ❜

❛ you're the reason this is happening to me! ❜

❛ i don't expect you to just fall in love with me out of nowhere. ❜

❛ it feels like someone stuffed me full of flower petals that float around my lungs all day. ❜

❛ you're lucky someone loves you back. ❜

❛ i hope you never feel the way i do. ❜

❛ am i going to die unwanted? ❜

❛ i don't even want to love anymore. i have no choice, though. ❜

❛ i haven't been coughing as much. maybe we're getting somewhere. ❜

❛ i'm sorry, okay? i just can't give it up. ❜

❛ yes. i'd rather die. ❜

❛ i won't forget y- them. i won't. ❜

❛ i'm getting the surgery. ❜

❛ don't worry, i won't make a mess. ❜

❛ if you think i'm weak for this, then so be it. ❜

❛ i'm so tired of being sick all the time. ❜

❛ it's called unrequited for a reason. ❜

❛ it is worth it. ❜

❛ i can't get the surgery. ❜

❛ i'm fine, i'm good, it's no big deal. ❜

the loved.

❛ are you sick? ❜

❛ how long has this been going on? ❜

❛ you're obviously not fine. ❜

❛ you've been sick for so long, but you've never told me why. ❜

❛ i'm the reason this is happening to you? ❜

❛ i can't just fall in love with someone like it's nothing. ❜

❛ is that blood? ❜

❛ who is it? ❜

❛ do you want the surgery? ❜

❛ you should get the surgery. ❜

❛ you're getting it removed. ❜

❛ you'll just resign yourself to die? ❜

❛ just tell them! i can't watch you die like this. ❜

❛ anyone who doesn’t love you is a complete idiot. if they don’t love you back, leave them behind. ❜

❛ if it will save your life, i don't know what you're waiting for. ❜

❛ it can't be worth it. ❜

scenes.

[ MEMORY ] for my muse to have gotten the surgery to remove the disease, but losing memory of your muse, the object of their affections.

[ REQUITED ] for a thread in which the disease is cured organically as my muse realises that yours loves them back.

[ TRIAL PERIOD ] for a thread in which your muse attempts to fall in love to save mine from the disease.

[ TWINNING ] for both of our muses to have the disease, believing the other does not love them when they do.

[ CONSEQUENCES ] for my muse to be on their death bed, confessing too little too late.

[ TOTALITY ] for both of our muses to succumb to the disease together, unaware they loved each other.

[ HYPOCRITE ] for your muse to convince mine to get the surgery, while yours refuses.

[ PLEAD ] for my muse to beg yours to love them.

[ GIVING IN ] for my muse to agree finally to get the surgery.

[ UNCOVERED ] for your muse to finally learn about my muse's affliction.

[ ALMOST ] for your muse to save mine by confessing at the last minute.

[ CAUGHT ] for your muse to catch mine coughing up blood and petals.

[ FOUND ] for your muse to find mine semi - conscious, surrounded by petals.

[ VISIT ] for your muse to visit mine in the hospital, where they are being treated.

#mine #sentence starters #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp memes #roleplay starters #dialogue starters #dialogue prompts #dialogue rp meme #dialogue rp starters #hanahaki rp starter #hanahaki rp meme #hanahaki roleplay starter #hanahaki rp memes

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lookwhatyoumademedohaha · 1 year ago

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And that kids is, how I met your mother Chapter 5 - Cornelia Street

We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead Leading us home

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

Summary: While you are beginning again in Ravka, Kaz Brekker contemplates and reminisces about how you were the one who quietly made a home in his cold heart and is addicted to the terrible ache in his heart that he feels keenly at your absence in his life.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader, Nikolai Lantsov x Six of Crows Reader, Kaz Brekker x Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky x Reader (Platonic), Nina Zenik x Reader (Platonic), Genya Safin x Reader (Platonic), Six of Crows x Reader (Platonic).

Warnings: Pure sweet fluff, humor, lots of angst, unrequited love that might be requited, denial, pining, mentions of death and violence, Dregs being legends, Kaz Brekker being an absolute emotionally constipated asshole in denial.

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m very grateful for your kindness, love and support that encourages me to keep going! I apologize for the delay but here is the long awaited Chapter 5 to this work, you have all been waiting for patiently so thank you for your patience and understanding! I’ve written this chapter from Kaz’ POV explaining his feelings and thoughts because I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time and it was a challenge but I finally did it!

I hope you all like it and I’m excited! Let me know your thoughts and comments on my work because I really struggled through writer’s block on this one.

I love you all! Happy reading!

Chapter 1 - Until I Found Her

Chapter 2 - Labyrinth

Chapter 3 - Call it what you want

Chapter 4 - Someone to Stay

Ketterdam was dark and dismal full of hidden secrets and monsters in the shadows. The city was built on blood and secrets and no one knew that better than the man who now ruled it, Kaz Brekker.

As Kaz Brekker strode through the crowded streets of Ketterdam filled with gullible pigeons and hungry monsters, he felt empty and alone. It was a feeling now he knew all too well though he tried to ignore it. The feeling ached and hurt him in places he didn’t know he had for the last few weeks. Kaz felt terrible these days, his mood completely sour and ill - tempered than usual frightening the Dregs, hurting his enemies and concerning his friends. Kaz couldn’t sleep the last few weeks as he tossed and turned restlessly in his empty and cold bed and in the rare moments he sunk into a fitful slumber, he was dreamt of you and woke up with sweat running down his forehead and gasps.

In the moments of sleep, he dreamt of you. The dreams always started the same way... there you were smiling at him as he reached for you, as he pressed a hungry kiss onto your sweet lips devouring you eagerly as both of you indulged in happiness and love that was only yours. But it would all fall down when the thick darkness began to envelope their surroundings and though they tried to escape it, you both would be caught in it, trapped within a dark and deserted place where nothing grew. Kaz remembered feeling your hand brush against his in the darkness. It wouldn’t make sense but suddenly the darkness would thin out slightly and they were both alone in a ship that had been wrecked as a storm poured down on them. In his dream, Kaz and you were trying to find a way out of the ship wreck but out of the blue, a shadowy figure shoots at Kaz but the bullet never reaches Kaz. Kaz wonders why he is unharmed as he realizes that in the cold of the stormy night, you had wrapped yourself around him and taken the bullet for him. Kaz watches you bleed as the life drained away from your eyes and the storm drowns you and he loses you.

He hates this feeling of helplessness and fear he feels when he wakes up and realizes it isn’t real, it was just a nightmare but it hurts more when it hits him that you aren’t around to quiet his fears with the gentleness in your eyes and the touch of your hand.

Since you left Ketterdam, the days dragged on and time seemed to pass by completely slowly infuriating Kaz who was haunted by you and took out his anger on everyone else. Everyone in Ketterdam feared him more than ever, and the Crows were praying for your swift return.

Kaz remembered the first time he had seen you. It was a moment he would never forget.

The cold season was oncoming and the Crows had heard of stories of the number of children increased in Ketterdam who were shivering in the cold, starving and had no shelter. As they made their way to the Slat that provided them warmth as they talked and laughed, Jesper’s eyes had landed on a girl dressed in a shabby and raggedy dress standing on the dirty and wet street with baskets in her arms as she stared at him hungrily.

Jesper was used to people staring at him. Everyone stared at him in admiration, fear, awe and lust and Jesper loved it. But Jesper had never felt anyone stare at him hungrily with a wistful look. It made him feel sad as he met your hungry and starved eyes that stared at him greedily and thought that you were one of those poor beggar children who had nothing to eat and no one to go to. It never occurred to him that you had been staring at him hungrily because you were greedy and starving for the warm and happy life he led with his friends, the laughter and mischievousness that glittered in his kind eyes and that you just wanted to go back to the better days where you had your brother by your side, and everything was just perfect and unspoiled. Jesper only saw your ragged clothes, hungry eyes, skinny figure that shivered in the cold.

And that’s why Jesper thrust his hand into his pocket and took the money he had been meaning to gamble and took off his coat as well as he walked toward you with kindness “Here you go, dear. Take this money and my coat. It’ll keep you warm.”

You had been startled and alarmed as you realized the boy with a warm and sunny disposition you had been staring at had mistaken you for a beggar girl and you realized you looked like one of the shabby and skinny poor children, the ones you had always been generous to back at home. The realization hit you like a hurricane with humiliation as you grew red and then deathly white in embarrassment as you thought of how far you had fallen down from grace.

And that’s why you broke into a laugh because you were close to crying as you exclaimed your heart touched at the boy’s kindness because all your time spent in Ketterdam, kindness had been very rare to you “Oh no! Oh no, thank you! I must refuse!”

The Crows who had been watching the scene unfold, waiting for Jesper patiently looked in intrigue and interest at you. Kaz raised his head to truly look at you because it was your voice that had interested all of them especially him as he took a few steps forward to listen to you. You did not speak in a manner of an ordinary street child but your manners belonged to a girl who was well bred and raised in a good household. A manner of a princess, mused Kaz as he looked at you intently.

But Jesper was not to be moved away as he placed his coat over you and put the money in the palm of your hand with kindness etched on his face “You mustn’t refuse! Don’t worry, I have plenty of coats and trust me, this one will keep you really warm. And you must use this money to buy food. If there’s anything you need from me, just ask for Jesper at the Crow Club.”

You saw something so kind and generous in his face that you knew to refuse would break his heart and you didn’t want to disappoint him. So you tightened the very warm coat around you and gratefully accepted the kruge from Jesper who grinned happily though your pride felt stung and your cheeks burned bitterly. You had known that you looked weary and shabby but until now you didn’t know you looked like a beggar girl.

His grin reminded you so much of your brother and his kindness was such a beautiful thing that you choked on a sob of humiliation and pain, reminiscence and happiness as you flung your arms around him “Thank you! Thank you so much! You are such a kind, sweet and generous darling boy!”

And with those words, you let go of Jesper who smiled happily and you left feeling warm. Kaz’ eyes widened at your response as Jesper skipped back towards them with a happy grin and Kaz reprimanded Jesper “Jesper! Why did you do that? That girl is not a beggar! She didn’t speak like a beggar or look like a beggar!”

“And she didn’t beg. I thought she would be angry with you. Sometimes, it makes people angry to be taken for beggars when they are not.” said Inej who felt sympathetic for you but she agreed with Kaz because there had been something very different about her.

“She wasn’t angry.” replied Jesper dismayed at his friends reactions but firm in what he had done and happy because he had made a difference in your life as he smiled widely “She was very happy. She laughed and hugged me and said I was a kind, sweet and generous darling boy! And I was!”

Kaz and Inej exchanged thoughtful glances as Kaz felt mystified by you and said “An ordinary beggar girl would have never said that. They would have just accepted the money and thanked you quickly or even respectfully bobbed a curtesy.”

From that moment on, Kaz Brekker was profoundly interested in you. Not just Kaz Brekker but the Crows and nearly all of the Dregs. You knew nothing of this new interest in you and never appeared at the Crow Club seeking Jesper Fahey but whenever you passed the Slat in your broken shoes and worn out clothes, your hair tucked with a ribbon, faces would appear at the window to take a good look at you, many discussions concerning you were held and you were nicknamed at the girl who is not a beggar. It was hilarious when the Dregs said it in a hurry.

Inej who had followed you and found information about you, told Kaz and Jesper about you “She is alone in Ketterdam. She doesn’t have anybody - she’s an orphan. She’s kind of a servant at the Van Eck mansion. She runs errands, carries parcels and does anything they tell her to.”

Inej’s anger was evident as she spoke fiercely, her hands clenched “They work her to the bone - sending her on long and tiresome errands without any proper clothing. And they punish her, hit her and deprive her of food and starve her and she doesn’t even have a proper place to sleep.”

Jesper looked like he was one second away from marching to the Van Eck mansion and getting you out of there but Inej wasn’t done as she continued “But she’s really strong. She’s friends with a crow that comes to her window and a rat in her room that she tamed.”

Jesper started laughing in amusement and wonder as his eyes gleamed in fondness “Oh! She’s odd that one but I believe I am beginning to like her!”

Kaz hid the little smile that threatened to burst at the thought of you taming and being friends with animals as he listened to Inej “And as for people who are nice to her... the Van Eck boy and her are friends. He’s the only one who is nice to her in that house.”

“What? You mean, Van Eck’s son is friends with the girl who isn’t a beggar?” asked Jesper in interest and intrigue as he snorted in amusement while Kaz sat up in interest “What? Does his daddy know?”

“No. The visits are secret and very rare. The Van Eck boy comes to her room at night whenever it’s safe, with food and books. And she reads to him and tells him stories and they talk and pretend that the attic she lives in is somewhere nicer. But she’s not a beggar.”

Kaz listened to this in rapt attention as he thought of you braving your unbearable life with a vivid imagination and determination. Perhaps that’s when Kaz had begun to like her unbeknownst to him.

The next time Kaz saw you was when he was on his way to the Slat after a negotiation and he spotted your dark mane of hair tied with a narrow ribbon as you slipped through the crowd and something in him ignited fiercely as he followed you quietly in interest. This day was a wretched one. His leg ached bitterly but he followed you nevertheless as he observed you were dressed in a dark blue dress that had grown shabbier and worn out, your shoes were downtrodden and wet with water that filled it, the coat around your shoulders was Jesper’s, your face pinched and starved and cold with blue and your heavy thick mane of dark hair was tied in a narrow ribbon.

That day was wretchedly freezing and dreary, the street wet and sloppy and Kaz observed how the wind tried to drag the coat Jesper had given you as you waded through the mud, the water filling your broken shoes. Although Kaz knew of your position in the Van Eck household, he truly did not know the extent to which the ill tempered and depressed staff treated you as a slave driving you on errands on the worst days. Kaz didn’t know that today of all days, you were trying to keep away the thoughts of your ravenous hunger by thinking of more pleasant and lovelier thoughts of being in dry and beautiful clothes, eating the most delicious food in the company of those whom you loved the best. He did not know for you, your imagination and making up stories and pretending was your way of coping and being strong in the hell of this city.

Kaz observed you stop at a bakery as you stared hungrily at the pastries, buns and cakes on display when your attention seemed to shift to a little beggar boy with untamable wild curly hair, a pale face with big hungry eyes and dirty clothes as he wrapped himself with rags to keep warm from the freezing cold. The boy was younger than Kaz himself and Kaz observed you talk softly and kindly to the boy for a few moments, your lips nearly blue from the cold. Kaz waited in the shadows as he saw you finish the conversation with the little hungry boy and look at him with an odd look in your eyes.

Kaz watched keenly as you entered the bakery where you were greeted by a friendly and kind boy with unruly brown hair and watched you point for three waffles. The nice and warm ones that had just been made. Kaz quietly watched the baker boy throw in five waffles in the bag for you and you seemed to point his mistake to Kaz’ surprise. Kaz wondered why you wouldn’t just take it and leave when you were so hungry. But the baker boy just smiled kindly and gave the bag to you as you stumbled out of the bakery and look at the little boy who seemed to be crying in suffering and starvation.

Kaz urged you to leave. You had what you wanted, there was no time for you to think about others.

But to his great shock, you knelt down before the boy as you gently smiled at him and handed him one waffle. The boy looked at you in amazement as if you had performed a miracle and began to eat it up wildly as if he was afraid that the waffle would vanish any time if he didn’t devour it up soon. Kaz was frozen in shock as he watched you place the rest of the waffles in the little beggar boy’s hands as you said something kind to the boy and ruffled his hair. The savage beggar boy was too hungry to give thanks as you left him to eat knowing that he was starving and the beggar boy looked up to see the vanishing figure of you at the end of the street.

Kaz didn’t know why but he knew that you could have eaten up all five waffles without hesitation. He had seen it in your eyes. And yet, you had sacrificed it for this poor child you barely knew. As he reflected on his thoughts, curiosity got the better of him as he strode toward the boy.

“Who gave you those waffles?”

The boy nodded toward your vanishing figure and Kaz queried curiously “What did she say to you?”

The boy looked at Kaz distrustfully but answered “Asked me if I was ‘ungry.”

“What did you say?”

“Said I had nothin to eat.”

“And then she bought the waffles and gave it to you?”

The boy nodded and although Kaz knew the answer, he had to hear it from the boy’s mouth “How many?”

“Five.”

Something in Kaz’ seemed to ignite at the answer. He had seen it was five but he couldn’t quite believe that the girl would be so stupid, self - sacrificing and kind to give the food she could have sustained herself with to a complete stranger who she didn’t know. It was absolutely an act of stupidity to Kaz and yet it moved and touched Kaz in a way it had not before. Ketterdam was a city known for cruelty and exploitation with darkness of the hearts spreading through it like a disease but this girl had proven that her heart was a ray of sunshine, the kindness and goodness in her soul was still not snatched by this city even though she faced the worst trials of adversity.

Kaz felt himself transported to his childhood where Jordie and him were completely poor and hungry. How different would their lives have been if there had been someone like her, someone who had been willing to share and listen to their woes and someone who had been completely good and kind to them without expectations and conditions.

Kaz thought of your hungry eyes and cold figure. He knew you had wanted those waffles. He knew that you could have eaten all of those waffles and even more but instead you chose to give it to a little boy who was hungrier and colder than you were.

Perhaps your act of goodness stirred something in his cold heart because Kaz inquired “Are you still hungry?”

“I’m always ‘ungry. But it ain’t half that bad now.”

Kaz was inspired by your little act of goodness that was enormous in his eyes as the next few words slipped his mouth “Go to the Crow Club and tell them Kaz Brekker sent you to be looked after by Inej Ghafa. She’ll help you get yourself warm and give you something to eat.”

The little urchin got up and obeyed because he didn’t care what was happening or what happened next as long as he was given a place where warmth and food was supplied. As Kaz looked at the little urchin leaving, he realized that he had done this for your sake and he decided to follow you because now he had started to see you, he couldn’t stop.

Kaz found himself at the Van Eck household where he saw you entering it with baskets and parcels in your hands, completely exhausted.

Kaz hid among the bushes having a good vantage point to see everything going on as he saw Van Eck accompanied by his son, both of them dressed in warm clothing as they sat at a table full of warm food with books scattered on it as Van Eck who was in a foul temper scolded the quiet son.

When you entered the garden, you ran into Van Eck who was already in a savage temper as he snapped “Where were you? You have been wasting time, lingering out and about for hours.”

Kaz noticed how tired you looked but you still managed to reply faintly and politely “It was wet and muddy. It was hard to walk because my shoes were so bad and slippery.”

“Do not lie. You shall go without dinner tonight.” stated Van Eck savagely while his son turned quite pale.

“I have had nothing to eat since this week.” Kaz heard you reply in a faint and low voice and felt himself tremble in savage anger.

“Then all the better! You shall have no breakfast, lunch or dinner tomorrow either! That will teach you how to behave like a proper servant!”

Kaz was certain you were trembling in hunger and cold as you grew pale and on the verge of breaking down when the son spoke up softly yet boldly “Father, please! She’s just a girl. You cannot starve -”

Van Eck slapped his son so hard that the boy nearly stumbled back and you gasped in horror and fear while Kaz watched in curiosity “You will speak when you are spoken to! Have you no pride? She is not a girl, she is a servant and she will be treated as so! Truly, Wylan, you disappoint me with that soft heart of yours. Go to your room and think about yourself. Have you never thought of what I think of you and try to become someone that I can be proud of?”

Wylan’s eyes were misty but it was your face that caught Van Eck’s attention. It had caught Kaz’ attention too for your face was serious and solemn, quiet and sad as you fixed your eyes on Van Eck who glared at you fiercely.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kaz’ eyes were on you as you stood steadfast and fearless in front of Van Eck as you answered quietly “I was thinking.”

By the expression on Van Eck’s face, Kaz realized that he had dealt with situations like this with you before as he demanded “Thinking of what? Beg my pardon for thinking.”

“I shall not beg your pardon for thinking.” you replied honestly as Kaz’ looked at you, your expression serious and sad as you replied quietly “I was thinking of what my father would think and do if he knew where I was today.”

Kaz’ saw Van Eck go red and then a dangerous purple as he flew at you and shook you violently, slapping your cheek and boxing your ears as you gasped in pain from the endless blows you received as Van Eck ignored Wylan’s protests as he snapped “You insolent child! How dare you be so impolite to your employer!”

There was a fire of fury that ignited in Kaz as he watched you take the blows in agony and pain as you hid back your tears. When Van Eck was finished with you, your cheeks were red and smarting and there was a slight wound from the blows you received but Kaz’ felt curious and awed as he saw your eyes were bright as stars as you let out a little amused laugh that shocked Van Eck who saw that you were not frightened by him.

Kaz felt curiosity stir as he watched you in amazement as you laughed and then bobbed a mocking curtesy “Excuse me for laughing if it is impolite but I cannot help it when there is a clown in front of me.”

Kaz couldn’t help but grin at her daring sassiness as she ran away leaving Van Eck struggling with his rage and Wylan hiding a small smile as his eyes lingered on her vanishing figure.

That day, as Kaz sat in his office in the Slat, he thought of your tight and pinched face, your starved and hungry eyes that held determination and thoughtfulness in them and your quiet polite manners and daring bravery. Kaz was fascinated by you from the moment he had seen you. You reminded him of a girl in his childhood. You were vastly different from this girl but yet there was something about you that reminded him of the girl back in his village Lij.

Everyone called her the Little Empress. She was the daughter of a rich and respected man who was a businessman in Ketterdam. Her father kept her in the grand mansion and there were many stories and rumors about her and her dangerous father that Jordie used to tell Kaz to pass the time because Kaz was fascinated by the fairytale life they lived. Kaz remembers the times he did catch rare glimpses of her and believed that the name Little Empress fitted her.

Kaz had seen her traveling in a carriage with her father as she held onto his arm. Kaz had seen her hand in hand with her father, surrounded by elegant governesses and intimidating men and women as they walked through the village commanding respect. Kaz’ eyes widened in awe and wonder every time he glimpsed her, for she looked very pretty and beautiful in her velvet dresses trimmed with furs, lace and satin dresses with puffed sleeves, lovely hats, ermine coats and muffs and tiny gloves that fitted her little hands, handkerchiefs and silk stockings that Kaz heard the villagers whisper that the little girl had a wardrobe that was much too grand for a child of seven. Kaz had learned the father was a gangster from his father but fond of his little girl and wanted his child to have everything he admired and everything he admired himself. Jordie murmured that though she had everything, the little girl was not spoiled because once Jordie had bumped into her on an errand and when she had seen Jordie cold and shivering, she had offered her silk scarf and her cloak and insisted on buying him a hot meal and food for his family as well. Kaz had never spoken to the Little Empress but all he knew of her is that she lived grandly with a gangster father who spoiled her, governesses who taught her everything she needed to know and people who protected her.

Though Kaz barely remembers much of his life in his village, one of the memories he does remember is meeting the gangster, the father of the Little Empress who visited their farm to buy a horse for his daughter. Kaz’ father knew the gangster through casual acquaintance for both men had fondness and affection for horses and greeted the gangster excited about finding a horse for his daughter. They both walked around as Kaz’ father talked about the special qualities of each horse but the gangster was waiting for the right horse.

Kaz and Jordie left their village after their father’s death and a week after that, they heard that the gangster’s house was burned to ashes with everyone in it and there was no possibility of any survivors. Kaz had thought of the Little Empress burning in the fire and had felt a pit of sadness grow at the thought of the gangster and the pretty Little Empress dying in the fire. Their faces were now blurry to him but he still remembered the excitement and amazement he felt every time he caught a glimpse of her.

You were not like the Little Empress at all. You were dirty, shabby, poor and worn out. But there was something in your manner that reminded him of the Little Empress. Something bold and kind, smart and resilient that impressed Kaz who was lost in thoughts of you.

Kaz kept an eye out for you but after a while, you stopped passing by the Slat and Crow Club with parcels and baskets in your arms. Kaz waited for you to pass by the Slat and Crow Club but as days went by, your presence did not grace them and the Dregs felt worried about the girl who was not a beggar. Kaz hid all the worry as he sent Inej to look out for you but you had disappeared from Ketterdam. Kaz felt something in him sink in dark pain when Inej bought back the news that she couldn’t find you anywhere as he realized that you had not survived the cruelty and mercilessness of Ketterdam. After your disappearance, the Van Eck boy mysteriously disappeared as well. Though Kaz, Inej and Jesper searched valiantly for you, their efforts were in vain because you were nowhere to be found and no one knew of where you were.

After many months after your disappearance, Kaz Brekker who was working on a heist regarding taking down one of the prominent gangs that abducted young children heard stories and rumors of an infamous spy and an intelligent detective who could find anyone no matter how far they ran and how hard they tried to hide away from the rest of the world. This spy was a shadow, an enigma and a mystery that had no name but many people in Ketterdam owed their lives to this spy because this spy would take any job given to them and do it successfully with style. This was a unique spy different from the ones who dominated Ketterdam. This spy took on cases of murder, missing children, abusive households, exposing corruption and helped people with their skillset. The stories and rumors boasted of a spy who was dangerous, uncatchable, intelligent and always one step ahead of those who thought they had the spy in a trap.

Kaz searched for this ruthless and smart spy endlessly because it was rumored they were working on the same case as him and secondly their skillset could be valuable to him. Finally, you got into a fight with one of the Dregs leaving him seriously injured. Kaz who had seen the injuries on his Dreg decided to find you once and for all as he send Inej, Jesper and Nina to inquire and found out that you occasionally hung out at a particular pub where people knew your identity but protected you. He learned that you went by name Pandora Silvertongue in the profession.

Kaz remembered stepping into the bar that belonged to the boy with unruly hair that had been kind to you that day. The boy had now upgraded his bar to a dining and drinking pub where the patrons were drinking and eating, laughing and singing like strangled cats while the boy smiled as he poured them more drinks.

When the boy with unruly hair saw Kaz, Inej and Jesper enter, his eyes widened in recognition and fear and Kaz announced in a steely voice that was not to be challenged “Is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?”

Everyone was quiet in fear and fright as no one dared to breath and Jesper took one of his revolvers and shot it to the air startling the patrons who screamed in fear as Kaz announced once again with authority “I said is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?”

The private room of the bar opened up as a girl with a spring in her step, color in her cheeks stepped out calmly as her eyes glinted with understanding and fearlessness. Kaz’, Inej’ and Jesper’s eyes widened in shock and amazement as they recognized you, the girl who was not a beggar who they had thought disappeared from Ketterdam but here you were alive and well.

Kaz could feel his breath quicken as his eyes never left you who was dressed in a fine dark blue dress as you looked at the Crows and then at the bartender with authority that you commanded naturally “Steve, get them a drink. Everyone else go home.”

Everyone obeyed your command as they immediately stumbled out of the bar. You seated yourself at a table carelessly and elegantly without extending an invitation to the Crows to join you because you showed no signs of fearing them while Steve poured fine whisky for all of them as you had ordered.

When Steve finished pouring the drinks, you looked at the bartender with a quiet gleam in your eyes “You go home.”

“But -”

“I said go home.” you said in a calm and quiet voice but everyone understood you shouldn’t be challenged as Steve cast a good protective and concerned look at you and scuttled to the back.

You lit a cigarette airily and carelessly as you looked at Kaz Brekker as if he was nothing special who was still recovering from his shock and Jesper broke the silence with a grin “The girl who is not a beggar! It’s you! We were so worried about you! We thought you had died - or disappeared but you look so awesome!”

You smiled slightly but before you could reply, Kaz spoke sharply in a hard tone “So I suppose you are the infamous Pandora Silvertongue because you are looking up and down at me like you aren’t afraid of me.”

You merely smiled as you replied calmly and quietly taking a puff of your cigarette “I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.”

But before Kaz could say anything, Jesper jumped in “We’re so glad you are alright. We were worried about you, you know? I mean, we used to make up stories and theories about who you were. You probably don’t remember me -”

“Jesper Fahey from the Crow Club.” you said with a genuine smile as you nodded at him “I never forget anyone who has been kind to me. Thank you for being warm and kind on one of the many dark days I had.”

“Oh... it was nothing.”

“No, it was something. It was something extraordinary.” you replied with a genuinely warm and grateful smile as Jesper felt appreciated and happy.

“I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.” you replied calmly and quietly as you took a puff of your cigarette. “What are you doing here?”

“Your name is Pandora Silvertongue. In the past few months, you have earned a reputation for being a dangerous spy and an intelligent detective who no one can hide anything from. You also tutor Ketterdam students. You’ve made yourself more enemies than friends. You’re in danger.” informed Kaz calmly with a deadpanned expression as he gazed at you skeptically and perceptively.

“You’ve done your research but you are still not answering my question.” you replied in amusement as you dabbed your cigarette into the ashtray

Kaz saw you raise your eyebrows at him and intrigue spark in your eyes as he began “A few weeks ago, someone started to capture Dregs. Not just any Dregs, female Dregs were targeted, lured into isolated areas, tortured and killed. Their eyes were gouged and hearts were ripped out and after three murders, a note was left at the fourth murder.”

You listened to Kaz who handed you the information on the murders as you looked through the papers “This is all the information we have on the killer. We’ve tried to follow and keep tabs on each Dreg but there is little progress. We need to know who the killer is so we can take him down.”

“I need to examine the bodies of the victims and visit the location of each murder to determine the behavioral patterns of the victims and murderers, preferably with one of you so I can role play and get inside their minds.” you replied thoughtfully as you flipped through each page quickly while Kaz nodded “Was the murder weapon left at the scene?”

“No. Who would be stupid enough to do that?” laughed Jesper rolling his eyes at you.

“Killers who enjoy the thrill of the chase. To them, killing isn’t just a crime, it’s an emotional release and enjoyment.” you replied as you ran your hand through your hair, your face full of concentration and focus making you oddly attractive to Kaz “Was anything taken away from the victims when they were found?”

“Their weapons.” answered Kaz curtly

“Well, I’ll look into everything about these girls. From their family backgrounds, traumas, how they were recruited, special skills, who they were close to and their daily routines. I also look into their autopsy reports.” you stated firmly as you closed the file and looked at an unreadable Kaz, a hopeful Inej and amazed Jesper who listened attentively to you and you were silent for a few moments as you read the note “But I can tell you this about the killer from the note.”

Kaz leaned slightly forward in interest as he waited in anticipation “Did you ever wonder why there was a note left on the fourth murder? It’s because the first three killings didn’t get the attention he wanted it to. So, to get the glory and revel in it, the killer left the note. What he doesn’t know is... he also left clues as to how to find him.”

Kaz raised his eyebrows because he couldn’t quite believe you had found clues regarding the killer so soon but he nodded at you to continue.

“From what you told me about the killer, he is not confident enough to initiate social contact so he lures them into isolation. Look at the letters, the style of writing - not confident enough but charming enough to be trustworthy. Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants. The writer’s handwriting shows signs of emotional repression and violence. And the pressure if you look closely is excessively heavy which shows that he is uptight hiding trauma and can easily overreact with excessive violence.” you stated in one breath as you gestured to the handwriting in the letter while Kaz looked at you in hidden wonder and admiration, impressed by your intelligence.

Jesper was the first one to find his tongue “You got all that from his handwriting?”

“Handwriting is an indicator of personality and behavior. It symbolizes your emotions at the given time just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling and speaking.” you replied smartly while Kaz processed this new information “But the interesting thing about this note is - it’s a line from a Kaelish poem. It says ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, tell no more lies about who you are.’”

Inej looked at Kaz and Jesper and then at you thoughtfully as she offered “So then, we are looking for someone Kaelish, well versed in literature, educated, narcistic and organized?”

You looked at Kaz confidently and smartly, with a grim glint in your eyes “I would cut off Kaelish. This person wants you to narrow it down to Kaelish people. Right now, you are looking for someone who knows the language of Kaelish, who is well - versed in literature, violent when provoked, smart and organized and charming and trustworthy and someone who needs to be in control. This was a person all these three girls knew and trusted... and maybe, it’s someone you know too. Someone who knows the procedures of the Dregs and how things work in there. This was someone who stalked each girl, observed the times she did everything, places she went to, people she talked to and organized the crime accordingly.”

“So we cannot eliminate the possibility that it might be one of the Dregs.” replied Kaz calmly as he thought of the possible suspects and the people who the three girls had in common.

“No. In fact, I believe you might have even met the killer, perhaps offering condolences for the deaths of the girls or trying to help in any way they can to find them. Keep a sharp eye and trust no one.” you replied sharply and grimly and then after a long moment of silence, your lips curved into a smile “How do you feel about the violin?”

Kaz, Jesper and Inej exchanged surprised glances because that was the last question they expected “What?”

“Well, I play the violin when I’m thinking. Will that be a problem? I also need a large space to pace about, I’m a coffee addict and I don’t talk for days on end and sometimes I talk to myself because I’m the only one in the room who makes sense. Will that bother you? Potential colleagues should know the worst about each other.” you stated easily and calmly with a charming and sweet smile as you finished the last of your whisky.

Jesper and Inej exchanged amused glances at how Kaz looked surprised at you taking charge and twisting the conversation to surprise him as he replied “Colleagues? Who said anything about becoming a Dreg?”

“I did. Told Nina Zenik day before yesterday over waffles that I must be a difficult and dangerous woman to work with because Pekka Rollins’ has his eye on me because I just took down one of the slavers. Now here her employer is... Kaz Brekker, the Lieutenant of the Dregs, the owner of the Crow Club, clearly wanting to get to me before Rollins does by testing me to see if I am worthy of his time and investment and lives up to Zenik’s word.” you said casually and nonchalantly as if the answer had been simple enough for anyone to understand and Kaz wondered if you had set this up on purpose as he watched you stand up and put your coat on “It isn’t really a difficult conclusion.”

Jesper grinned “I really like her.”

Inej grinned wider as she nodded “Yeah, I really like her too.”

“I’ll be in contact. I need to establish my investigation so I’ll be moving in as a bar girl and Brekker’s secretary tomorrow. That way, I can discreetly find out about what happened to the girls and who they associated with and perhaps even lure out the killer.” you replied briskly in a composed and matter - of - fact voice that Kaz did not like because he was the boss as you moved across the room swiftly “I don’t need a room, I have my own place so I won’t be around for that. I’ll meet you in the evening around at five to go check the victims and locations. Sorry, got to dash... have important things to do.”

Kaz was surprised at the nonchalance and fearlessness you held toward him and the way you treated him as your equal as he called out “Is that it?”

“Is that what?” you inquired politely as you stopped mid - step to look at Kaz in curiosity.

“Well, we just met and now you are part of the Dregs without my permission?” replied Kaz smartly in a deadly and dangerous voice as he looked at you coldly while Inej and Jesper exchanged amused looks because Kaz seemed to have met his match.

You didn’t seem fazed at all, in fact you seemed surprised and amused “Problem?”

“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we are meeting this evening and I suspect Pandora Silvertongue isn’t your real name.” replied Kaz smoothly and smartly as he raised his eyebrows at her with a smirk because he had to admit she had the nerve and daring combined with her intelligence and curiosity which felt oddly attractive to Kaz.

“I know you are the Lieutenant of the Dregs, Kaz Brekker. I know you sent the Wraith to follow me yesterday. I know that Per Haskell is a puppet and you are the puppet master who one day hopes to be the leader of the Dregs but is waiting for the opportune moment. I know that you are an orphaned farm boy who was raised outside of Ketterdam in a village judging by the hint of the rural accent that is audible under your Kerch. I know you came to Ketterdam with someone you loved dearly - the last of your family members - perhaps an older sibling. Since you are standing here alone, I know that your older sibling must have died in the firepox plague that overwhelmed Ketterdam but somehow you managed to survive and climb up the ladder in the streets, developing an aversion to touch, trust issues, avoidance of friendships, hyper vigilance, protectiveness toward Jesper who possibly reminds of your sibling by the way you look at him and reprimand him and hunger for revenge. You think the world is out to get you and you are distrustful of every single person you come into contact with because you were let down by someone you cared about. You like to think you are detached from weakness but you do care... and the reason I know that is you permanently marked yourself with that tattoo on your wrist... R... it stands for something personal... perhaps a name of someone you care about with love or hate... a reminder to you. I know that you like to pretend you are different from the rest of the criminals in the Barrel by dressing up in black like a mercher and distinguishing yourself away from them but the gloves - they hide something - perhaps your touch aversion? I know your limp is psychosomatic. And just one mention of Pekka Rollins, your face is filled with hatred but you are not competing with him for power - no, your eyes are filled with revenge. It’s personal and you intend to be the last man standing.”

Kaz’ eyes widened as you began your explanation and analysis of him and he felt completely exposed and slightly frightened when you deducted and observed his weaknesses and shames that the world did not see because he hid it so well from them. Kaz couldn’t breath as he listened to you cleverly and calmly rattle out facts about him that no one else knew but seemed completely transparent and obvious to you and when you finished, Kaz’ knees were slightly wobbly and his grip on his cane was tight as he looked at you with something akin to fear and reverence in his heart.

Inej and Jesper exchanged slightly anxious looks as they looked at Kaz who had gone completely pale and you grinned and winked at the three of them “That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you’ve earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”

Kaz had been shaken to the core and had wondered how you knew about these personal things. The next time he had met you to help you with your investigate, he had been completely cold and threatening as he demanded how you found out his secrets but you simply explained your observations that had led you to conclude your deductions about him. Those observations were sharp and clever, things that the rest of the world were stupid enough to ignore and it had shocked Kaz you were clever and sharp enough to pick up on those little things.

Though Kaz hadn’t liked how you had first approached him, he understood your value as a person and a member of the Dregs immediately. He knew that he could not let you go because there were a dozen more powerful and cruel men who were willing to get their hands on you and use you unkindly to their advantage. Kaz had enough information on the city to know that Pekka Rollins had a keen eye on your talents and wanted you all to himself. And Kaz was not going to let a dangerous and talented girl like you be Pekka’s property.

“That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you've earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”

You worked undercover as a bargirl and Kaz’ secretary for two weeks in the Crow Club and the Slat. Kaz noticed that you wasted no time in charming everyone and making friends with people who warmed up to you and opened their hearts, confiding their deepest and darkest secrets to you. You were an efficient and effective hard worker who never gave anyone reason to doubt that you were a spy as you observed and worked on the case. There were times you would drive Kaz crazy with your endless playing of the violin at midnight when you needed to think, your coffee addiction that was worse than his and you muttering under your breath, spouting completely random but interesting facts that surprised everyone out of nowhere and sometimes completely zoning out lost in thought ignoring his presence. Kaz found it truly annoying and exasperating but Inej, Nina and Jesper who were slightly patient with you found it amusing that Kaz had found someone worse than him.

Through his time with you, Kaz couldn’t believe you were real. Whenever you presented developments in the investigation, there were somethings such an elegant intelligence and raw thought that he had never seen in anyone else. He always would be surprised by your findings because you would up with observations that no one else would think of and was surprisingly accurate. Kaz never showed it but he was in awe of your intelligence and wondered where you had trained your mind to be like this and learned all these things.

You had found the killer soon enough and suspected that Anika would be the next target. What you hadn’t expected the killer to do was twist his plan and take Inej hostage. Kaz and Jesper had set out to find the killer with the Dregs with your help and you were ordered to stay out of the line of fighting. But the killer had been too smart for Kaz and Jesper planning own traps for them forcing them to watch when he tried to torture Inej under the impression that Inej was Pandora Silvertongue.

Jesper was full on panicking “PLEASE! LET HER GO! SHE’S NOT PANDORA SILVERTONGUE!”

The killer laughed as he looked at Jesper who was trying to break free “I don’t believe you.”

“You should you know. Pandora Silvertongue is nothing like her.” came a cocky and confident voice out of the dark shadows alarming everyone and getting the attention of the killer.

Inej let out a gasp, Jesper looked around in amazement and shock at your voice that had echoed out of the darkness and Kaz swore his heart jumped out of his chest in alarm and relief with overwhelming emotion that he could not describe.

“How would you describe her, Mr. Brekker? Beautiful? Intelligent? Resourceful?” your voice asked from the distinct darkness as Kaz had tried to look around trying to search where you possibly might be hiding.

Kaz had muttered “Disobedient.”

The killer who was one of the new Dregs grinned maniacally “Then you know what I want, don’t you, Silvertongue?”

You had answered as you had taken down one man through the darkness “I believe I do.”

The killer was maniacal at this point as he called out for you as he flashed his knife with a grin when you had appeared out of nowhere and hit the killer with a large brick on his head making the killer fall onto the floor in an unconscious heap as you had rolled your eyes at the killer “Moron.”

You had saved Inej, Jesper and Kaz in time much to their relief. Kaz had seen enough proof that you were worthy of being in the Dregs and offered you a position of the spy in part of the Dregs. You had accepted and from then on, the Crow Club and the Slat had become your home. You had become a loyal ally, a talented spy who was excellent at your job and a close friend to Kaz. Soon Kaz trusted you with the most important missions that you completed brilliantly, valued you as an important part of the Crows and began to see you as a close friend who he liked.

Kaz prided himself on being someone who had a control over his emotions. After all, he was the most feared man in Ketterdam and his stoic and cold nature required a certain level of control. But when Kaz was with you, he felt something warm flood within him whenever you smiled at him reassuringly and teasingly, he found himself becoming a boy who craved to feel the flutter of his heart whenever you laughed at his dark and dry sense of humor, the reassurance he felt when you stayed up late with him planning heists and cleaning messes after parties. He found his eyes searching for you in the crowded Crow Club and lingering on you for a moment too long as he gazed at your charming and charismatic demeanor that enchanted him. He found your company enjoyable as both of you walked the streets of Ketterdam from the harbor to the marketplace to the Slat and you chatted enthusiastically about anything on your mind as he found himself listening in fondness as he memorized the expressions of your face. He looked forward to the nights where both of you would sit on the roof together gazing at the view of Ketterdam and looking up at the stars as you both shared bottles of whisky and laughed and confided your insecurities, wildest dreams, deepest secrets and untold thoughts to each other as he felt a connection of understanding and trust he had never felt with anyone else.

Kaz remembered when one day Jesper had dragged him to one of his games where they had to disguise themselves and fool as many Dregs as possible. Kaz and you had been friendly competitive rivals as Kaz promised to beat you in the game. But he had been destroyed when he had only managed to fool two Dregs and you had managed to fool around ten Dregs with your disguise and cover story.

Kaz walked toward you who was drinking as he scowled “I blew it. I only got through two Dregs.”

“Woah! I got to ten.” you had replied with a playful and sympathetic grin as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe I lost this stupid game! I was so excited for this. What happened?” exclaimed Kaz as he sat next to you wearing a scowl as he looked completely frustrated.

“Well, maybe you being excited is what happened. Like every time we’re planning heists, you’re always super intelligent, you take your time, you stay calm and examine every possibility. But every time we do dumb games like this, you get excited and act like a crazy idiot. My advice... don’t act like a crazy idiot.” you replied with an insightful and thoughtful smile as you looked at Kaz with a soft glimmer in your eyes.

Kaz was surprised at your answer that made him think because it made sense at how perceptive and true it was “Thanks. That was surprisingly wise.”

“Yeah well, motherhood really opens a woman’s eyes. I finally feel as if I’m finally part of something bigger than myself.” you had dramatically said as you touched your fake pregnant belly that was part of your disguise in the game while Kaz rolled his eyes at you and slapped the fake belly in exasperation.

You placed a protective hand on your fake belly as you gasped dramatically “Hey don’t you dare touch Kazper Jr! That’s right! It’s your baby!”

Kaz had to stop himself from laughing outright as he played along “Are you saying I knocked you up?”

“You sure did!”

Kaz liked it when you were with him. With the rest of the world, he knew you were a gold rush. Everybody wanted to have a taste of you and wanted to know what it would be like to love you. Kaz couldn’t keep his eyes off you because you were an inviting temptation as you flirted and talked with the people with such charismatic and charming sweetness that he felt a flicker of twisted jealousy that crushed him. But when you were with Kaz, though you still teased him with that charming twinkle in your eyes, you displayed a soft sense of vulnerability you never showed to the rest of the world. There was a softness and sweet sincerity in you that you gave Kaz that you never showed the rest of the world and before he could stop himself, Kaz had opened himself and showed his deepest and darkest parts baring himself vulnerable and you had accepted and loved him unconditionally.

Kaz knew he felt something special for you, something that he never felt for anyone else and something that he couldn’t afford to feel for you in this world. In this world, sentiment was the greatest weakness and it would be used against him by the countless number of enemies who he had made on his way to greatness. So he tried to keep a distance from you as much as he could but there were times he was just drawn to you and he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in your company and worrying about you.

Before the Ice Court, Kaz had promised Nina that he’d keep an eye on Matthias. So as he searched for Dregs who could infiltrate Hellgate, befriend Matthias and protect him, you had volunteered eagerly. But Kaz had turned down your suggestion feeling something akin to terror of losing you to the darkness and cruelty of Hellgate but when he realized that there was no one else he could truly trust and that you were not backing down from this assignment, he had reluctantly sent you into Hellgate to spy on Matthias. Your absence had been absolutely maddening as the Slat felt cold and empty without you and he worried about your wellbeing in Hellgate. When the chance to break into the Ice Court had arrived, he had seized the opportunity to break you out along with Matthias.

Kaz remembered when he had reunited with you after your year in Hellgate. You looked completely different, grown up as if you had lived through darkness and survived to tell the tale. But the kind twinkle in your pained eyes was still there as Kaz finally caught up with you and found himself smiling genuinely in relief as he had said “Can I get a free woman a drink?”

The grin you had given him reassured his heavy heart that despite the pain you had endured, you were still completely in sync with him as you said the words he had wanted to say “I missed you, Kaz Brekker.”

You had been by his side through the Ice Court Heist and watched him take down Pekka Rollins as he enjoyed his vengeance on the man who had destroyed his life.

Kaz remembered the aftermath of celebrations when they had overthrown Pekka Rollins and taken Ketterdam to themselves. He had stood with bruises that didn’t seem to hurt but felt victorious and triumphant as he heard Nina, Inej, Wylan, Matthias and you celebrate with Jesper who announced loudly to the Dregs.

“Alright everyone! Pekka Rollins is history, we are absolute legends and we can finally walk freely around Ketterdam!” exclaimed Jesper in an absolutely celebratory mood, feeling blissful as he looked at the Crows who were grinning madly “Who wants waffles?”

You had grinned at Jesper’s infectious mood but had approached Kaz who was staring out of the window at the view of Ketterdam as you looked at Kaz “Hey, you alright? You did it. You finally got your vengeance on Pekka Rollins.

Kaz’ lips twitched into a small smile as relief and victory blossomed in his chest at his accomplishment and looked at you curiously because he knew if you didn’t have such faith and optimism, he couldn’t have done it “How do you do it Y/N? Keep hoping. Hope is dangerous and it clouds your judgement. And yet after everything you’ve gone through, after everything that happened, everything I did... how did you still manage to hope that it could all work out?”

You smiled gently as your eyes gleamed knowingly and sincerely as you looked at him softly “Because of you. You don’t realize it, Kaz... but you’re actually the most hopeful person I’ve ever met.”

Kaz’ eyes widened as his breath hitched at her unexpected words that he was completely taken aback by as he stared at you in disbelief and surprise seeing only the truth and kindness etched on your face as you said honestly “From the day you crawled out of that harbor having lost everything you ever loved, everyone assumed your place in the world was in the bottom as the weak and lonely, a boy who was defined by loss. But you wished for more. You dared to dream and hope as you worked to climb your way up and gain the power. You dared to hope to succeed in the craziest heists and became someone who everyone feared. You dared to hope to bring down the man who was responsible for your brother’s death.”

Kaz felt breathless at how you saw him and you smiled at him brightly “Now it’s all over. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Kaz’ lips curled into a soft smile as he looked at you hopefully “I guess in the end, there really is no end. Just new beginnings.”

You had tended to his injuries patiently with tenderness and kindness he did not deserve. You had saved his life countless times from taking your first gunshot that was meant for him and committing your first murder as you killed a man in cold blood to protect him.

You had stood by his side through every questionable decision and defended him when you disagreed with him. You had been loyal to him even when he had pushed you away and lashed out at you in a cruel manner. You weren’t afraid to pushing and telling him when he was wrong and cruel with the stubborn and fiery look in your eyes. You had seen his lawless demons and dangerous ghosts that haunted him but had understood him and helped him work through it. You had seen him as the darkest demon who was dangerous and cruel and yet loved the monster within him. You knew about how he struggled with touch from the very beginning but never questioned or mocked it but simply allowed Kaz to take it slow as he started it with simple fleeting brushing of shoulders to soft fingers interlocking with each other and holding hands to the feeling of being close to you without drowning in the waters.

You were unlike any other woman he had ever met.

Kaz sighed as he buried his head in his hands as he remembered when it all went wrong. He had an important mission that required him to retrieve information and steal a valuable documents from the vault hidden in a highly guarded mansion of one of the merchers in Ketterdam. The mercher had a reputation for throwing lavish parties to make connections and relationships so Kaz had decided to ask you to be his pretend wife so they could disguise themselves as guests and get into the vault.

Kaz’s eyes had flickered toward you when you had entered into his office. He had pretended to be busy but the truth was you had a way of making him painfully aware of every breath you took and every smile you flashed as you brought a warm light into his cold life and he informed you of what he needed. You had grown completely silent and your smile had vanished slightly concerning Kaz who raised his eyebrows at you waiting for your answer.

“No.” you had replied curtly and crisply as you had looked away from Kaz. “Ask Inej or Nina. Or -”

“Y/N... I want you.” Kaz had replied softly as he had slipped out of his seat and stood in front of you “You and I work well together. We make a good team together. And you are the only one I trust for this.”

His gloved fingers had brushed against yours as he looked deeply at you waiting for your answer and you had surprised him as you smiled at him warmly as red dust scattered on your cheeks and you replied “Ask me properly and I might say yes.”

Kaz had smiled genuinely as he watched you walk away. Later, you were working late into the night with him as both of you were looking through information on a mercher that Kaz wanted to rob. Both of you dug into boxes of information that you had found of books, letters, documents, and photographs of the mercher’s life. As Kaz and you sat side by side enjoying the comforting silence of the moment, and Kaz found a photograph of two lovers laughing on the porch of their old house. It felt hard to explain but in that photograph, he saw himself and you living that life.

You had looked over at him with a small smile as your eyes flickered at the photograph “They look very happy. They must have loved each other very much.”

Kaz looked at you and he felt time stand still as he couldn’t find the right words to describe how he felt in that moment with you as he felt breathless staring into your enchanting and warm eyes and finally broke the silence as he asked “Y/N, do you want to dance with me?”

You had blushed but your smile was answer enough as you had accepted his gloved hand. Kaz’ lips twitched into a smile as he felt your hand rest upon his gently and your other arm holding onto his shoulder gently as he ran his hand softly along your waist and placed it on the small of your back. His breath hitched as he looked at your tender and sweet eyes that twinkled brilliantly as both of you began to dance around the room to the slow and romantic music echoing from downstairs as the rain splattered outside.

At first, Kaz hated that he was nervous and clumsy tripping over himself and stepping on your toes. He was the Bastard of the Barrel who had humiliated and overthrown Pekka Rollins and now ruled Ketterdam inspiring fear with intimidation and violence and yet he couldn’t properly dance with the girl he possibly liked.

You had grinned brightly much to Kaz’ mortification at his mistakes as he stepped on your toes once again and you offered “Hey, do you want me to teach you how to do this so you don’t hurt me or possibly yourself?”

Kaz had flushed a bright red in mortification as he had nodded “Yes.”

“Hold your back straight. Now you will lead and I will follow. And now one, two, three...” you began softly with a tender and encouraging smile as you let Kaz guide you across the floor and much to his surprise as Kaz followed the gentle hum of your words, Kaz found himself dancing without causing you any grievous injuries.

Kaz felt his breath hitch and his heart race as he danced with you smoothly and his eyes flickered down to ensure his feet were not going to hurt you when you instructed him gently “Look into my eyes. Dancing is seeing one another for who they really are, understanding and trusting each other. That’s why I love it.”

Kaz had looked into your eyes and had seen you who had always been there for him through thick and thin and had changed him in the most unimaginable ways as he murmured softly “I see you.”

You had sucked in a breath as your eyes had grown wide but you had smiled softly and joyfully “You dance incredibly.”

“All because I have a talented teacher.” replied Kaz smoothly with a soft smile as he spun you around as you chuckled.

Kaz had never felt so light-hearted and happy as he spun you around and held you in his arms as both of danced perfectly together in harmony. Kaz knew it felt foolish to give in so easily to how he was feeling but in this moment, he didn’t care as light and humor danced in his eyes feeling weightless, all the burdens and worries he carried washed away as he held you in his arms as you glowed in happiness and laughter.

Kaz felt free and weightless laughing in delight as you spun him around as you laughed in amusement, breaking rules of dancing but he didn’t care because he knew this moment with you was right and wanted this forever. He couldn’t let go of this perfect moment where the stars had aligned and everything felt just good to be true as Kaz spun you around and dipped you down, his hand supporting your back, stopping you from falling. You held onto his shoulder trusting him to hold you and never let you fall and break. Kaz pulled you up once as you held onto his gloved hand and his nose brushed against your forehead swaying to the soft and romantic song echoing through the Slat as both of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity.

“Y/N...” murmured Kaz as his eyes fluttered open, memorizing every inch of your face and committing you to memory afraid you would vanish if he let you go “Will you marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?”

Your heart rate escalated through the roof and your eyes had widened in surprise as you stared at him in speechless amazement as he took out a ring that had a crow with a R engraved on it as he held your hand tightly in his “Marry me, Y/N and be my partner in crime for life.”

Kaz saw you chuckle and smile at him as you nodded “Yes. I’ll be your partner in crime for life, Kaz Brekker.”

“Kaz Rietvald.” confessed Kaz softly, his voice barely a whisper as he looked at you vulnerably “Kaz Rietvald is my real name. The name of the boy who came to Ketterdam with hopes of making it with his brother. The name of the boy who died in the harbor that day.”

You had looked at him with understanding and sincerity as he swallowed a lump of emotion and confessed “But when I’m with you... I feel like Kaz Rietvald once again. The boy who believed in magic and beauty of the world.”

“Kaz...” you had murmured as you looked at the ring that held great meaning for you now and then at Kaz with so much you wanted to say to him but he shook his head as he placed a soft and fleeting kiss on your hand.

“Y/N...” he whispered as he slipped the ring onto your hand with his own trembling hands and then placed a sweet and tender kiss on your forehead “You are the reason.”

The reason that he was alive. The reason that he still felt alive. The reason that he looked forward to waking up every day. The reason that he paid attention to all the magical little things you did. The reason he felt worry whenever you were hurt and wounded. The reason that he dared to dream once again.

From there on, Kaz had felt connected to you in a way that he hadn’t before. He had wanted to practice perfecting the image of pretending to be an engaged couple so he encouraged both of you to do little things that couples do. But it was easy to forget that Kaz was pretending when he hid sincere love notes inside your room, replaced the wilting flowers in your room with your favorite flowers and left little gifts for you. It was easy for Kaz to forget that you were not his to lose when he found little notes filled with jokes and small affirmations inside his files, his favorite books annotated with your thoughts and sentences highlighted that reminded you of him, flowers pressed to the pages.

It was easy to get lost in the act of being your husband when he exchanged knowing and lingering glances with you in secret, whenever he would feel the twisted dark feeling of jealousy when he saw any man look at you in the wrong way, when you bought coffee made exactly how he liked it in the mornings and when he was working late. It was easy to forget that you weren’t his lover when both of you worked late until night, your head resting on his lap as he ran his hand through your hair smiling down at you as you read your books, when he listened to you play the violin, when he shared meals with you and cuddled with you relishing the comfortable silence and teasing each other and confiding his secrets in you.

It was easy to forget that you were not his wife when he had seen you laughing in amusement, your eyes gleaming brightly and his lips had met yours passionately and tenderly as time stood still and his heart beat violently out of his ribcage when you had kissed him back with equal tenderness and desire. It was easy to forget that this was all just an act when he would indulge in the pleasure of nipping your earlobe and placing a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck and collarbone taking his time to taste you and feel your body tremble underneath his touch.

It was easy to forget it all because you were easy to fall in love with deeply and madly until it was too late for him to back out.

When the day came for the party, he had dressed up and you appeared in front of him making him speechless as his eyes widened because you were a breathtaking sight to behold. You were wearing an off the shoulder satin long emerald green dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You were wearing simple pearl earrings, your hair braided into loose waves and your cheeks pink and your lips ruby red as you smiled at Kaz.

Kaz had placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you away and whispered into your ear “You look beautiful.”

You had blushed when you felt his lips brush against the nape of your neck as you squeezed his hand gently “You don’t look so bad yourself”

At the party, everyone was full of admiration for Kaz and you as a couple. Kaz and you socialized with the crowd of aristocrats, merchers and businessmen as you charmed them with your signature charisma that got enough information for Kaz. Though Kaz was not much of a social creature, he observed you morphing into the form that you needed to take in order to charm and lure your target into giving you what you wanted.

As the time drew near for them to rob the vault, Kaz and you were talking with a few ladies and gentlemen who were very impressed with the both of you, the affectionate and loving couple and one woman had asked Kaz how he knew you were the one for him.

Kaz had frozen at the question but his panic had disappeared as soon as it had come as he tightened his arm around your waist as he replied to his surprise with the truth of his heart “She makes me laugh. She’s smart, kind and funny and accepting of who I am. She’s truly the kind of woman who comes once in a lifetime. She’s beautiful and impossible. The way we got here was unexpected. But no matter how I think about it... we were meant to be. And the more time I spend with her, I know that I don’t want to lose her.”

Everyone cooed over the answer but you had frozen at Kaz’ answer as you looked at him in amazement and surprise but Kaz didn’t meet your eyes. The lady was insistent on knowing what you liked so much about Kaz that you knew you had to marry him. You wanted to hit that woman with the tray of champagne because she was putting you in a very awkward position at the moment.

“He is... well, one night we were just gazing at the stars and talking when I looked over at him and it struck me that he is my closest friend. He’s awesome, intelligent, strong, brave and protects those who he cares about. How could I not want to be with him?” you had replied easily and sincerely with a tender and sweet smile shocking Kaz who had not expected such an answer that sounded terrifyingly real.

Both of you had escaped the crowd and made it to the vault in time. You had distracted the guards while Kaz broke into the vault and took what he needed. Both of you were on the verge of an escape when both of you heard footsteps heading your way. Kaz had looked at you with desperation and desire as he had pushed you against the wall but before you could say anything, his lips were moving against yours passionately and fiercely, roughly and hungrily devouring you as his hands explored your body and sparks flew within him as you kissed him back with fierce passion and overwhelming emotion as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer toward you.

Kaz couldn’t stop. He knew what he felt for you was a weakness. And if anything, you felt the same way about him too. And Kaz was secretly ecstatic that you felt the same way toward him. But Kaz had realized as he broke into the vault, he was a criminal. He was Kaz Brekker, the King of Ketterdam, the Bastard of the Barrel who had no weakness and who could not afford to love anyone. Kaz had realized the true harsh reality that he could never love you the way you deserve to be loved. He was not a man made for love. He was a monster created for chaos and cruelty. And you were weakening him, bringing his softer and vulnerable side that he had hidden from the world for so long. He couldn’t let it happen. As Kaz kissed you, he kissed you goodbye as he held you in his arms trying to keep you with him for a bit longer but he knew he had to end it before the world ended him.

The guards who had been patrolling cleared their throats when they had seen you and Kaz and you had narrowly escaped their scrutiny and attention as a very handsy couple. When both of you had left the party, Kaz hardened his heart ignoring your pleasant conversation and then your inquiring questions. It didn’t take you long to notice this sudden change in Kaz who had grown cold and distant from you.

“Kaz!” you had snapped as you shoved him getting his attention “What is wrong with you? What’s going on?”

“Y/N... I’m not your fucking husband, so stop nagging me!” snarled Kaz harshly, the softness in his eyes completely gone as he looked at you coldly “It’s over. We completed our mission. I got what I needed.”

Kaz started walking away because he didn’t want to see your fallen face when he heard your trembling voice speak up “Is that it?”

“Is that what? Did you think this was real? It was just a game... part of a mission.” replied Kaz coldly, his eyes flashing with harshness as he began to break the one thing he was falling in love with.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare. I don’t believe you. I know you feel the same way I do, Kaz.” you had replied with a trembling and shaky voice that you tried to keep strong as you looked at him with a pained expression “You - please don’t do this. You can’t just do this to us and then run away from all these feelings because you are scared.”

“Scared? Y/N, I don’t love you. You are an investment to me.” replied Kaz cruelly and harshly shoving down the voice screaming that he was lying as he glared at you. “You are nothing to me!”

You remembered how safe you felt with Kaz and how he had always assured you that you belonged and had a home with him as you felt everything you thought you knew burn once again into ashes as your heart shattered into pieces at the words carelessly and brutally uttered by Kaz and you sucked a breath as you looked at him in disbelief and heartbreak “You don’t love me?”

Kaz answered with cold silence that rang loudly among both of you and he could hear your heart shattering into pieces and had to hold onto looking at how your once bright and happy face now fell into an expression of shocked disbelief and pained suffering as you tried to understand how your world could quickly fall apart. Kaz couldn’t bear to look at your pained expression any longer so he decided to walk away from you, to leave you alone and save himself from the pain.

“I don’t believe you. Two hours ago, at that party, you wanted me. You were in love with me, Kaz. All these months, you made me believe we could share something special.” you called out, your voice shattered and hurt but there was a sliver of spite and anger in it that stopped him within his tracks as he closed his eyes and stiffened because he was losing you because this had to end “But we can never be that because you put yourself above everyone and within you is -”

“Is what? A cold monstrous dark dead heart?” snapped Kaz clenching his jaw as he turned around to look at you with a dark and cold look in his eyes as he thought of how everything they had built up on a shaky ground was now falling apart “I thought you knew better by now. I don’t have a heart, Y/N.”

“Who knows? Because you never show anyone who you are!” you had spat out with tears in your eyes as you looked at Kaz with hurt and pain. “You aren’t letting me in, Kaz!”

“Nothing good comes from loving people! Everyone leaves in the end. I intend to live my life knowing that I have no weakness that my enemies will not exploit against me and knowing that I have no one who loves me mourning for me when I’m gone wishing every single moment that I would come back for them!” yelled Kaz fiercely, his eyes flashing with powerless reminiscence of a destroyed childhood and suffering that had made him monstrous as he looked at you knowing that he couldn’t afford to love you, not when he was weakened with you, not when he could never give you peace.

“Well then, I love you! Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” you had screamed at him hysterically, tears rolling down your eyes as you felt nothing but piercing heartbreak and completely broken at how casually cruel and brutal he was being breaking you into pieces.

Kaz’ breath hitched as he froze at your confession, his heart skipping a beat traitorously with hope and happiness but he collected himself reminding himself that both of you could never have a shot in the dark because he was too damaged to be loved by you as his lips curled into a cruel sneer “You disgust me! It’s too bad for you that I don’t love you. That you didn’t make the cut into my heart. Why would you do that to yourself?”

“You - you shouldn’t have let me in! You shouldn’t have made me feel safe with you! You shouldn’t have made me feel like I belong with you and the Dregs are my home!” you had snapped in unbearable pain that burned every inch of you as you gasped through a broken sob and looked at Kaz who looked so pretty like the devil through the tears as you slapped him “Because now it’s far too late!”

Kaz felt the sting of the slap but your words lashed across his heart more than the pain of the slap. He clenched his jaw as he felt his heart bleed in unbearable pain as he looked at you in hurt and wistfulness. He wanted to take back all his cruel words that broke you and crumpled you but he knew he couldn’t do that.

And as Kaz looked at you, he wanted you more than anything in the world. More than all the kruge and the most beautiful paintings and precious jewels that he spent his life chasing to steal. Kaz was painfully aware of the aching desire he had to call you only his and to come home to your bright smile and tender heart every single day. Kaz wanted more than anything to hold your hand through life and death and to love you with all your scars and bruises and protect you from the rest of the world. Kaz had never felt this kind of powerful love and aching desire for anyone in his life, the kind that made him want to live each moment and love fearlessly. He wanted you so much that he was afraid that what he shared with you could bring him back to life as Kaz Rietvald or break him down.

Kaz loved you. Kaz had so much love inside him that he wanted to give you but he was terrified of how much you meant to him and what he would do to the world if you ever were hurt. As Kaz looked at the moonlight shining upon you, Kaz believed in Saints who had created the most perfect punishment fitting for him. For he was a monster, and it was only fitting for a monster never to hold and have what he loved the most in this world.

Kaz felt you sense his reluctance and desire for you as you took his hand in yours and caressed his cheek gently as he was hypnotized by your tender eyes as he stared at the one that he loved and dreamed of as you softly and earnestly confessed “Kaz...I know you are scared. I’m terrified too. But I want you. I love you with all your flaws and scars, Kaz. Don’t give up on us. So let’s stop pretending and do this for real.”

Kaz’ breath hitched as he leaned toward you, drawn in like a moth to a flame. He could feel your breath fanning against his cheek as he inhaled in your intoxicating perfume and felt your hot skin against his lips that longed to kiss you. His eyes fluttered shut and his heart was racing inhumanely as his mind forgot to remind him that you were a bad idea. You were an addiction he couldn’t yet give up on and wanted more and more until he was completely satisfied. Kaz had an inkling he would always be wanting more of you as his hand held the nape of your neck wondering how something that was so rationally wrong could feel so perfectly right.

He did not ask for this. He did not ask for you in his life. You were beautiful, intelligent, dynamic, wonderful and brighter than fireworks in the night sky. Kaz did not ask to be plagued by these feelings for you, to be driven to distraction every time you entered a room.

“Say you want me like I want you maddeningly.” your voice whispered as your breath fanned his cheek, and Kaz couldn’t breath or think as he was lost in his storm of feelings for you as his lips lingered close enough toward yours eager to taste you.

But your words jolted him from this madness as he took a deep breath and stumbled back from you, realizing that he had been giving into his weaknesses and he breathed heavily trying to compose himself. What had he been thinking? What was he doing? This wasn’t fair and - this wasn’t right. Kaz ran his hand through his hair as he convinced himself that this wasn’t love, this was a distraction, a fleeting infatuation that would pass with time. You were not going to be his destruction. Kaz felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he convinced himself that he was not the one for you. You deserved someone better, someone who was not broken and damaged who would only bring you down.

“I don’t love you. You were a pleasant distraction from my work.” replied Kaz firmly and coldly as his heart cried out at the lie but he knew it had to be done as he looked you in the eye “This isn’t a fairytale, Y/N. I am your employer and you are my Dreg. So stop being delusional and be what I need you to be and do what I need you to do.”

Then it had taken everything in Kaz to walk away leaving you alone in the dark, the masterpiece of what they had torn apart as you felt alone, tears of heartbreak and pain running down your cheeks.

It hadn’t taken long for everyone else to notice what had gone wrong between you and Kaz. Both of you had been inseparable, never one without another and now both of you were distant and apart. Kaz kept his distance coldly and cruelly from you refusing to listen and talk to you as you tried to fight for them again and again and the brightness in your eyes began to fade away slowly as you wondered where you had gone wrong as you sat in the dark choking on your sobs dying inside of pain and heartbreak.

Kaz didn’t know that you were trying to hold onto him as you stayed in your room. After a while, you stopped coming to see Kaz but your presence lingered with him as he heard you play the violin, vulnerable, soft and sad, melancholy heart tugging and heart breaking melodies that would float through the Slat down to the streets. The melodies you played were piercingly agonizing, beautifully emotional and reminded Kaz every single moment of the memories he had shared with you, the unconditional joy he had felt in your presence and now the sorrow that ached within him at your absence as tears sprung into his eyes. He wasn’t the only one affected by your emotional performances. One of the most toughest Dregs who was violent had burst into tears when he had heard you performing a heartbreaking farewell song.

One day, Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer as he quietly walked toward your room as his eyes fell on you facing the window playing an achingly sad and sweet melody that touched Kaz’ cold heart feeling that your melody was a breathtaking story that never got a happy ending.

“Is it a sad song?” asked Kaz softly as he lingered at the door, his eyes full of sadness and curiosity when you had finished playing and he noted that you didn’t look surprised at his presence.

“Nothing is sad until its over. Then everything is.” you replied quietly and contemplatively, your eyes full of grief and heartbreak as you looked at him with a sliver of hope in your heart.

Kaz had felt a lump of emotion swell up in his throat as he tried to speak but he was too lost in your eyes that mirrored how he felt and you took a step toward him “Kaz... I just wanted to say -”

“Y/N - I just came to say it’s enough.” said Kaz clearing his throat and taking hold of himself as he took on the coldness and harshness against you who looked slightly confused “Enough of your melancholy whining and playing the violin! It’s a headache and distracting all of us from doing important things.”

Kaz had watched you freeze in shock at his order, your eyes burning bright in disbelief and hurt and Kaz knew it that you loved playing on your violin. Your violin was the most precious possession in the world to you and you would never give up your violin to save yourself. You loved playing music on your violin more than anything in the world and to hear Kaz order you to stop playing the violin was an equivalent to ordering you drown yourself and kill yourself.

The despair and grief in your eyes flashed into cold anger as you gripped your violin protectively “You once looked me in the eyes and told me that you would be by my side until the end. But it’s wonderful to see that you are okay being a liar who wants everything to revolve around you. I guess my pain - the pain you caused is such an imposition to you.”

“Y/N... I’m sick of you! So please stop playing the violin! If you so much as play a note on that stupid thing, I will burn it!” exclaimed Kaz who had felt anger that derived out of guilt and self - loathing as he glared at you with lightning in his eyes.

Kaz saw you were paralyzed with shock at his cruel words that he suddenly regretted as he looked at your grief-stricken expression but he didn’t want to stay and dwell on it as he turned away but as he took a few steps away from you, he heard you say in disappointment and sadness “I thought you might be different than the rest of the monsters in this world. But I guess you are all the same.”

Kaz had frozen but before his anger could get the best of him, he had marched to his office. You had looked down at the streets of Ketterdam that were haunted by your father who had come before you, your brother who you had lost to the cruelty of this city and the one person you had always felt like you belonged in this godforsaken city had abandoned you making you feel unspeakably lonely and terrified, unbearably heartbroken and hurt. You had been the phoenix in this city rising from the ashes every single time they burned you but you were getting tired of rising and fighting like it was nothing. Kaz had dealt the final blow.

When Nina had offered to take you with her, you had not hesitated. Kaz had been surprised that you had accepted and something in him wanted to stop you from leaving to Ravka. But he stayed silent as you packed your bags and left for Ravka with Nina without saying goodbye to him as he had the deadly sinking feeling that he was losing you.

Kaz had expected that he wouldn’t miss you at all. After all, it was good that you were far away from him as possible and it would give him time to move from this disaster. But the air was thick with loss and indecision as he realized the truth of the saying that you never knew what you had until it was gone. Kaz had thought your absence would only satisfy him and give him the satisfaction that he was right all along.

But Kaz had been completely, utterly, tragically wrong.

Because after you had left, everything seemed empty and wrong to Kaz. Your absence could be felt in every single vein in Kaz’ body and your absence taunted him as he felt the little things about your presence in his life. His office that had once been full of light and warmth, a place of shelter from the cruelty of the world where he shared sacred moments of sincere smiles and easy conversations with you had now become cold and dark, empty of your vivid intelligence and easy laughter that lit it up as Kaz stared frozen at the blueprints, maps, documents, contracts that didn’t make any sense to him any longer. Your scent of sharp jasmine and comforting pages of books lingered on his pillow that he buried his head into every night trying to hold onto you as he missed you terribly. Kaz missed your incredible intelligence and imagination that saw the world through different eyes and observed things that everyone else missed. Kaz felt your absence ache terribly at the lack of beautiful, magical and lovely music that you would play on your violin during the most random and inconvenient times of the day when you needed to think. Kaz missed the little things from the little soft and knowing smile you had reserved only for him, the midnight conversations that made them smile and cry, the afternoons you would come back from your favorite café to share coffee and pastries with him, your furrowed brow when you were focused on sketching, and the playfulness and childlike innocence you exuded brightening his life.

Kaz couldn’t bear your absence that echoed in this godforsaken city of Ketterdam. Ketterdam, the city that used to be a reminder of Jordie was now driving Kaz mad by screaming your name everywhere Kaz went. Kaz couldn’t walk past and live in this city of blood that was now haunted by you as he was reminded of you in each place from your room that used to be scattered with papers, books and boards that were marked with ongoing investigations but now was empty of activity, the marketplace you frequented bargaining with the vendors driving them to despair, the bookshops in the University District you lingered in for long hours, the Crow Club where you laughed and drank with the Crows sharing intimate and secret glances with Kaz, the library where you loved to read losing track of time, the waffle house where you and Nina loved to eat waffles, the hot chocolate stand where you and Kaz would always buy and drink hot chocolate after a heist or a job or whenever they passed it by, the crowded canals where you liked to sit and sketch landscapes of Ketterdam, the harbor shore where you liked to run into the sea and jump around in the waves childishly and freely and the bar your friend Steve owned where Kaz had first met you.

Your seat at the table was empty and no one in the Dregs dared to sit on it. Everyone in the Dregs missed you too. Jesper didn’t frequent the Slat often and when he did was restless and anxious, Wylan was quiet and thoughtful as he worked on his bombs but when something went wrong, he would be frustrated and once snapped in anger at one of the innocent newly recruited Dregs because no one else except you understood him and his love for inventions. Inej prayed daily to her Saints to keep you and Nina safe, posted letters all the Crows and the Dregs wrote to you, sent you little trinkets, and tidied your room replacing the wilted flowers and arranging it. Matthias would try to raise everyone’s spirits as he reminisced of good times with you making everyone smile and laugh and encouraging the Dregs to keep going but inside he was worried for your wellbeing since you were the first friend he had from Hellgate until now.

Kaz also was subjected to high sass levels of incredibly frustrated and angry intelligent, skilled and protective teenagers and your friends in the Dregs who were first seen by you and touched by your kindness to them in the streets and were forever in your debt for giving them a home and a purpose. This was the worst punishment yet for hurting you and he wished that he had never done anything to you because the revenge from the kids and friends in the Dregs who loved you was worse than any humiliation he had been subjected to.

He had once come down in the morning to get coffee but the last of the coffee was taken by the dark haired, sassy kid called Hari who had marched into the kitchen completely covered in blood as he held an axe and glared at Kaz as he marched away with the jug of coffee, never letting Kaz get coffee at any given moment. The red head named Betty who was completely mad at Kaz had arranged to deliver the most distasteful cakes that tasted horrible to him every single day with the most hurtful and imaginative sayings on the top ranging from ‘IT’S GARBAGE DAY. CAN’T BELIEVE THEY HAVE A WHOLE DAY DEDICATED TO YOU’, ‘SORRY YOU ARE SUCH A HATEFUL BITCH’, ‘YOUR WHOLE LIFE IS A JOKE’, and a cake with a middle finger on it that said ‘YOUR LOSS’. There were three kids named Tony, Sabrina and James who helped you with your investigations and whenever Kaz ordered them to do anything, they would defy him sassily by shrugging him off and not taking him seriously. There were two twins named Rob and Hal who pranked Kaz every single day after he had broken your heart, nearly driving Kaz crazy but Kaz could never trace the prank back to them but Kaz knew it was them when they smirked in amusement whenever they saw Kaz covered with glitter and pink confetti or Kaz’ hair completely blonde and purple. The curly haired boy named Joe who you had given all your waffles to on that terribly hungry day would replace Kaz’ gloves with brightly colored, crazily patterned leather gloves, hide Kaz’ documents in places where Kaz couldn’t find them, replace Kaz’ coats with bright and colorful coats, redecorate Kaz’ cane into silly shapes and replaced Kaz’ perfume with a spray that made Kaz smell like rotten eggs for days. A medik you trusted and had taken into the Dregs named Hungyun would sharpen his blades and recite facts about surgeries and how to dispose of a body whenever Kaz passed him by so Kaz avoided him all together.

Matthias who had noticed Jesper’s restlessness, Wylan’s frustration, Inej’s worry and the Dregs’ sass had gathered them for a project to cheer you up by making an album about how much you meant to them and soon all of them enthusiastically joined in the creative venture. The only thing that calmed all the Dregs and Crows from starting a revolution was your letters to them that kept them happy that you were doing fine.

Kaz received your letters and he read them the moment he received them. You wrote so beautifully about Ravka and how it was so different to Ketterdam. Every letter was a piece of you that he clung onto as he read it over and over again, tracing your elegant yet messy handwriting full of enthusiasm and sadness as you described everything in vivid detail, put down your own thoughts and confessed how much you missed him and couldn’t forget him no matter how hard you tried. Kaz tried to write back but every time he tried to write, words failed him as emotions overwhelmed him because he didn’t know where to start and he knew if he wrote back and really confronted how he felt, he would be giving into weakness. He couldn’t afford to be weak. So he wrote the letters he wanted to write to you secretly and locked it away and read your letters over and over again never sending you a response hoping that in time you would forget him.

But the thought of losing you terrified him. Because that was kind of heartbreak time could never mend. Kaz could never feel this kind of love for anyone again and though he was adamant in holding onto strength of not giving into his weakness, he never wanted you to leave him for another because it petrified and terrified him. He could never walk the streets of Ketterdam again if you were not by his side.

Kaz knew he had to do something when he dreamed of you and started seeing visions of you in broad daylight. The first time Kaz had seen you in broad daylight was when he was supervising the Crow Club and he had seen you laughing in the Crow Club and you winked at him with that charming and knowing manner that always made him blush and his eyes widened in wonder and disbelief because he couldn’t believe you had come back so soon but then you vanished. Kaz had blinked in confusion realizing that he had hallucinated you but that was just the beginning. When Kaz had been walking down the street, he had heard you call out his name cheerfully and his heart had soared in traitorous hope as he swerved to look in the direction where he heard your voice and saw that it was you with your sweet disposition and bright eyes running toward him with wind in your hair and his knees had almost given out but then the vision of you disappeared as a girl ran past him to hug her lover behind him. Kaz tried to shut you out but you were impossible. You were in his head and you didn’t leave. He saw you sitting in his office looking at him in disappointment and anger, tears of sadness rolling down your cheeks as you begged him to love you.

Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer. Kaz didn’t care how long Nina had said she would be gone with you. Kaz needed you with him. Kaz wanted you with him because he couldn’t live without you since this was hell. Kaz pulled out a new paper and wrote a letter to you ordering you to come back home to him because he couldn’t live like this any longer. He hoped that once you got the letter, you would not hesitate to come back.

After all Ketterdam was your home. Ketterdam was where you belonged. Ketterdam was where he was. There was nothing special tying you to Ravka.

As Kaz sent the letter, he looked at the sun setting down on the horizon and muttered with all the sincerity and piercing agony in his heart as he remembered the rare masterpiece he shared with you, remembered you all too well “I miss you, Y/N. Come back to me.”

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