#this is a slooowwww burn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkatkl · 2 months ago

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What a good slooowwww burn 🩷

Unravel Me

Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn

Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.

Prev. // Next

Word Count: 3966

Chapter Four: This Is Me Trying

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“And that was all she said?” Lily asked Remus as they made their way to the library. The corridors were filled with other students too consumed by their own conversations and happenings to give the duo much thought.

“Yup.”

“Okay,” Lily said slowly as she thought through her next words carefully. “But did she say it like ‘I don’t have to go’ or ‘I don’t have to go’?”

Remus stared at her blankly for a moment, “That… you just said it the same twice.”

The look of incredulity that settled on Lily’s face would have been comical during different circumstances. “Are you dense?” she asked, stopping in her tracks to turn and face him fully. “The tone, Remus! How did she say it? Was it casual? Hesitant? Was she giving you an out or hoping you’d ask her to join?”

Remus blinked, suddenly regretting every life choice that had led him to this conversation. “I—I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “She just said it.”

Lily groaned, throwing her hands up. “Hopeless,” she muttered. “Absolutely hopeless. All of you, every single one.”

Since James and Lily became an item his own friendship with Lily had flourished. It was nice, most of the time.

She was a force, much like James but with a different kind of intensity—one that was quieter, more precise. She had a way of picking apart his thoughts before he even had the chance to process them himself, which was both helpful and infuriating.

Most of the time, he appreciated it.

Right now, however, as she continued to stare at him like he was the dimmest person alive, he wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t even know why I brought it up,” he grumbled as he continued down the hall. It was a lie, boldfaced and completely. He knew why he brought it up.

James would be no help. He had known him long enough to predict exactly what he would say—Just tell her, mate, what’s the worst that could happen? And Remus was not about to do that. Because the pessimist that he was, Remus could go on and on about a hundred different ways doing that would end in complete and utter disaster. Sirius would likely say the same, in cruder fashion too most likely. Peter would likely agree with Remus, telling him that it was better to be safe than sorry, better to never give this the chance to turn into something that could potentially hurt him. Maybe, once upon a time, Remus would have taken that advice.

Which led him to the only other person he could turn to, and one that would likely have better advice—Lily Evans. She was, after all, the only one who wouldn’t tell him to throw caution to the wind like James and Sirius, but also wouldn’t feed into his self-sabotaging instincts the way Peter might.

Lily was practical but not cold. She was honest but not unkind. If anyone could help him untangle this mess—or at the very least, stop him from spiraling any further—it was her.

Which was how he found himself trudging toward the library, bracing himself for whatever blunt wisdom she was about to throw at him.

Remus had a sneaking suspicion that James had already filled Lily in on the basics, he was right of course. He wasn’t particularly mad about it though. He expected it because there was nothing James Potter kept from the redhead. If he had someone like that, someone who knew him, who saw him completely and still stayed—he doubted he’d keep anything from them either.

Not that he was thinking about her in that way.

Not at all.

“I mean,” Lily said after a moment, tilting her head thoughtfully, “you have to let her join, right?”

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but she continued before he could.

“It’ll be a group of us, which would make it less tense,” she reasoned. “You wouldn’t have the pressure of it being one-on-one. Plus, it’d be nice not being the only girl stuck with you lot.”

Remus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s a fair point.”

Lily grinned. “It’s an excellent point, actually.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “And what if it is tense? What if it’s weird?”

Lily gave him a look. “Then it’ll be weird,” she said simply. “And you’ll deal with it, like a grown adult, instead of running away and brooding over it in some dark corner of the castle.”

Remus groaned, but she wasn’t wrong.

The pair entered the library, and Remus nearly turned right back around.

Because there she was—sitting at one of the long wooden tables, completely lost in whatever she was studying, utterly unaware that she was the sole topic of their current conversation. He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course she’d be here. She was as much a creature of habit as he was. She always sat there, if the space was available, or on the second floor tucked away at one of the tables if the library was too crowded.

The only reason he knew that was because he also spent a lot of time in the library and just happened to notice.

Lily, none the wiser, kept talking, completely unbothered. Because unlike him, she wasn’t acutely aware of her presence, wasn’t pulled toward her like she was meant to be caught in her orbit. No, that was Remus’ plight to carry and his alone.

“Even if it is bad, right?” Lily continued. “Say it goes horribly wrong—then there’s always next time.”

Remus quickly leads them up the spiralling staircase and away from where she could potentially hear their conversation. He doesn’t respond to Lily until they’re sat at a table, that just happened to have a vantage point to their subject of conversation.

“What if it all goes to shit though,” Remus counters because he is nothing if not a doomer. ““What if I make a complete arse of myself, and she never wants to speak to me again?” He hesitated, then lowered his voice, almost as if saying it too loudly would make it real. “I will deny I ever said this if you tell anyone, but I think I might actually die if that happened. As in, keel over at that very moment and change the course of all of your lives.”

And then—of course—Lily grinned. She at least had the decency to not laugh in his face. It was when she did things like these that reminded him why she and James got on so well. They were both menaces in their own right.

“Oh,” she said, smugness creeping into her voice. “Oh, this is so much worse than I thought. Never thought I’d see grumpy Lupin so besotted. Don’t tell me you've already started scribbling her name in your notes with little hearts around them as well.”

Remus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Lily sing-songed, looking far too pleased with herself. “But I do love finally getting some honesty out of you.”

Remus risked a quick glance toward the table where she was still sitting, blissfully unaware of his absolute meltdown. Lily was right, of course, it was far worse than he was letting on.

Far, far worse. Not doodling her name bad… but give it another day and he’s not so sure.

“I’m opening up to you, please don’t make me regret it,” Remus groaned, burying his head in his hands. This was by far the most vulnerable he’s ever been. Turning into a monster was one thing, but talking about his feelings? A different kind of torture entirely.

Lily patted his shoulder in what was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture but felt more like amusement.

“Oh, Remus,” she sighed dramatically, “I would never make you regret this.”

He lifted his head just enough to shoot a glare at her.

“Fine,” Lily relents far quicker than Remus knows the boys would have.

“Let’s imagine it goes horribly wrong, right? You make a fool of yourself, like a proper arse of yourself, and you can’t string a sentence together or—”

“Get to the point,” Remus interrupted before he was sent into another spiral.

Lily smirked but, thankfully, complied. “The point is, even if you do somehow manage to make a complete arse of yourself—which, honestly, you won’t—what’s the worst that happens? You get embarrassed? You sulk for a week? Do you honestly think she’d hold it against you? She doesn’t seem like the sort of girl to do that.”

Remus doesn’t have a comeback for that, no retort because she’s right. She didn’t seem like that kind of girl.

She was kind.

Not in the way most people were—not in a self-serving, transactional way, where kindness was given with the expectation of something in return.

She was kind in a way that seemed to come as naturally to her as breathing.

It was in the way she spoke to people, in the way she listened, in the way she noticed the smallest things about people and remembered them. It was in the way she had waited for him, in the way she had given him an out but never turned away. The offer hadn’t felt like pressure for him to decide what he wanted then and there, it was just patience. A quiet, steady thing. A kind of understanding that made his chest ache, because who does that? Who waits like that? Who lets someone figure themselves out without expecting anything in return? The answer was no one. No one does that. Except her.

Because if Remus was feeling all these things, all these echoes of times long passed, then so was she. From the looks of it, she was handling it a lot better than he was. In the very least she wasn’t actively looking like she was constantly on the verge of a meltdown the way he so clearly did. Or was she just better at hiding it?

That made him freeze. He’d been so caught up in his own panic that he hadn’t thought about her. He felt so… selfish. Because for all his overthinking, all his agonizing over the possibility of losing her, he hadn’t considered that she might have been struggling with this too. That she might have been feeling the same echoes, the same pull, the same impossible weight of knowing—and yet, she had been the one who handled it with grace.

She had been the one to wait. To give him space. To let him run when every part of her had to have known that he was running from her.

Was that why she had refused to look at him in class?

Why she had avoided his gaze all day?

Was she preparing herself for the possibility that he would tell her that whatever this was—whatever it could be—was something he didn’t want?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcome pang through his chest.

Because fuck, what if she was? What if she had already started pulling away—not because she had changed her mind, but because she thought he had?

Because of his hesitation, his avoidance, his complete and utter inability to deal with emotions like a normal person?

For the first time all day, panic coiled tight in his gut—not from fear of what he might feel, but from the realization that she might think he had already made his choice. He had spent days thinking about what their past was like that he ignored what this version of himself was causing. Did she think… did she think he didn’t want her? He couldn’t blame her if she did—because, honestly, what else was she supposed to think? Every single thing he had done since that night pointed to the exact same conclusion.

Avoiding her. Ignoring her. Running every time she got too close.

Of course, she thought he didn’t want her.

But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

He wanted her biblically, in a way that was pathetic.

He wanted her in a way that ached, in a way that made every cell in his body hum when she was near.

If he ever allowed himself, he would drown in her, surround himself in her, let himself have her in every way he had denied himself. He would be at her beck and call the same way he teased James for.

Following after her without hesitation, hanging onto her every word, looking for excuses to be near her—he knew it. He’d seen it happen to James, watched his best mate fall so hopelessly for Lily that he had reshaped himself without even realizing it.

And Remus had laughed. Had mocked him for it.

But now? Now, he was just as bad. Worse, even, because at least James had tried. At least James had done something about it instead of skulking around like a man starved, pretending he wasn’t already half in love.

He doubted Lily, who was currently saying something to him that was going completely unheard, ever felt unwanted. He was willing to bet everything that James had never made her feel like it was a burden to be tied to her; but Remus was, even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. That made his stomach twist in the worst way, because the last thing he ever wanted to do was make her feel like she wasn’t wanted. Like the burden lied with her and not with him and the beast that called his body home.

For the first time in his life, Remus was about to do something he’d never dream of doing. He was going to her, let her know that whatever was going on in that beautiful head of hers was wrong. He was going to tell her that his inability to handle his shit had nothing to do with ehr and everything to do with him being a complete and utter prat.

“I’m… I’ll be back,” is all he offers the bewildered redhead before he’s up from his seat. He moves, not allowing himself the time to overthink the way he’s sure he will later. Instead, he takes the stairs two at a time. The walk to her feels simultaneously like the longest trek of his life and the shortest. The wolf howls with each step closer, eager to finally be close to her once more.

Remus stops behind her seat, with the realization that he hadn’t exactly planned how he would tell her, just that he knew he had to. He stood behind her chair for a minute, contemplating how to even begin a conversation. He was saved, or punished; the jury was still out, when she glanced behind her.

“What… did you need something?” she asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she looked up at him. He saw her hands twitched, as if ready to close her book and gather her things. Did she think he was about to ask her to leave?

Remus felt like he was going to pass out, having her eyes on him again made that same pressure settle in his chest, but it didn’t feel as crushing. He probably looked like a right creep, standing there silently until she had turned around and then continued to remain silent.

“Remus?” came her voice, twinged with worry.

He felt his heart skip a beat, it was the first time she’d said his name—well his first name. She’d normally refer to him as ‘Lupin’ the way most people did. Hearing his name from her lips though… Merlin there wasn’t a better sound. He cleared his throat, pushing through the warmth beginning to settle on his face and the lump that threatened to make him unable to form a sentence.

“We usually sit near the back, by the fireplace. At the Three Broomsticks, I mean. Usually one of us goes ahead to make sure the spot isn’t taken, typically it’s me, there was this whole thing with Pete and we just don’t really task him with it anymore. So if you get there early I’ll… be there so,” Remus rambles and he can’t seem to stop himself even though every cell in his body is screaming at him to shut up. “Not saying that you do. You can get there anytime you want. Not that I’m telling you you have to go or-”

Her confusion melts into something softer, into something that makes the noise of the library fade. Being seen by her was a vulnerable thing, it was exposed nerves and crumbling walls. Remus had a feeling that being known by her would be a different thing entirely.

“I’m not good at this,” he confesses to her, like a penitent sinner seeking forgiveness from the only one that could grant it. “I don’t… me being stupid and flighty doesn’t mean that I don’t…”

He doesn’t know how to continue because if he does he knows he would have to admit all the things he’s been too much of a coward to. He would have to admit that he had already been half in love with her before this whole mess started and now it was just all… meant to be? He wasn’t meant to die alone? That, yes, fate had been cruel but not that cruel? How is he meant to tell her that all of this has thrown his whole life off kilter and he’s desperately trying to make sense of it all? He can’t say that, at least not now, so instead he’ll give her the only truth he can.

“I want you to go,” it comes out like a breath he’d been holding in for too long. “I think you might find my friends incredibly annoying and I’m afraid I’ll make a total fool of myself in front of you, but I want you there.”

He pauses, and before he can think better of it he adds in a whisper, “I’m… I’m trying.”

It’s not perfect. It’s not enough. It doesn’t erase the way he ran, the way he still feels like he’ll turn tail any minute. But it was all he could offer her. He figured she’d tell him that he was a moron for thinking it would change anything, that it would mean anything, but then she did something he hadn’t expected at all.

She smiled at him and the warmth of it rivaled the sun, it melted some part of him he had long since let freeze. No one had ever looked at him like that—like he was something worth looking at. She tilted her head in that way she did when she was thinking something over, considering it with great care before she responded. “I’ll be there. I won’t be able to make it early, I have had plans with a few friends I’d hate to cancel, but I’ll be there.”

Remus nodded and held back from asking further questions. He wouldn’t ask her which friend. He wouldn’t ask her how long she’d think she’d be. He wouldn’t ask her what their plans were. Even though he wanted to know everything she thought, did, or wanted, he’d resist.

“Yeah… yeah of course. We’re usually there for a while so you can stop by whenever you want,” he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, but he doesn’t stumble over his words the way he thought he would. He was freaking the fuck out—of course—but he didn’t do all the usual things he did when speaking to someone who wasn’t one of the few close friends he had.

He didn’t break eye contact.

He didn’t let the words die in his throat when he didn’t know how to continue.

He didn’t shut down.

He just stood there, before her—vulnerable, exposed, raw, and trying.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“You need to go,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Keeping her eyes open was a herculean task and yet she tried. Sisyphean in nature, as if she could remain by his side by sheer force of will, “you shouldn’t be here. You’ll get—”

“Oh, sweet girl, I’m not going anywhere. Haven’t I already said that,” his voice mirrored hers, soft but laced with a worry that didn’t go unnoticed. He dabbed at her heated skin with a damp cloth, hoping to at least give her a modicum of comfort. He shushed her gently when she tried to protest, “Let me care for you, okay? It’s what I was created for.”

There was nothing more he could do. No magical cure. No miracle to come, no matter how much he prayed or bartered his own life for hers. So, this was all he could do. He could only watch as another cough wracked through her frail body. Could only watch as another stained cloth was added to the pile, stained with a crimson that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

He brushed the hair from her face, letting his touch linger—for her comfort or his own, he wasn’t sure. Her skin was too warm, her breath too shallow—he knew what was next. He had known since the doctor came, he knew it when the apothecaries could only offer tonics that could ease her pain but not cure it. But knowing did little to prepare him. How could one even begin to prepare themselves for the single greatest loss of their lives? How was he meant to

“I’m so tired,” as if she did not spend most of her days as of late lost in dreams, hidden away where the pain could not find her.

“I know, my heart, I know,” he suppressed his sobs, her last moments would not be in the presence of his sorrow. That could wait, for now all that mattered was her. All that ever mattered was her. “Best to get your rest, hm? Being the fairest girl is such work, that must be why you are so tired.”

Her eyes, unfocused and seeing a world he could not, met his, “Such work.”

The next words from her lips broke his heart even further, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have a thing to be sorry for,” he responded firmly and filled with so much love it was about to break his heart in two—a piece for her to take so that she is not alone for too long in the place he could not follow her and the other to shrivel in his chest. “Not a thing.”

“I’m afraid,” she muttered, a moment of lucidity that had come so rarely in the passing days. She sounded so small and he could do nothing to shield her from it. The place she would go would be one he could not follow her to.

“You won’t be alone for long, my heart. I will be there before you know it,” he memorized her face for a final time. “Just wait for me,” he whispered as he carded his fingers through her damp hair.

Her eyes shut and they did not open again. The sobs that he refused to let her see now tore through him with a vengeance. The sound of a man who had just lost everything that made his days worth living. He peppered her face with kisses, for each time she had refused. If asked, he wouldn’t be able to say how long he kneeled there beside her, just that he had.

He did not live to see next spring.

If she was only permitted nineteen, then he would not witness a twentieth without her. It was for the best, really. His sweet girl, his heart, had left him there and he had to find her.

It was his job, it was what he was created for.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Unravel Me Masterlist

Taglist: @a1ienmush, @boromoony, @kitkatkl, @moonyswifee, @mxg111, @daydreamandforget

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nalgenewhore · 4 years ago

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masterlist - ao3 - next chapter

☽ ☼ ☾

As he sat at his gate, he watched the other people. Something about airports had always intrigued him, so many people in their own lives, on their own paths all converging to this one place before jetting off once more.

Lorcan was restless. On the arm of the uncomfortable chair, his fingers tapped out a furious beat. The monotonous drone of the phone line ringing in his ear didn’t help. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. I miss your voice and I need you to pick up so I don’t lose my fucking–

“What, the fuck , do you want?”

He chuckled, “Good morning to you too, princess.” Inside his chest, his heart fluttered. Fuck, he missed her. He missed both his girls. The minute they’d dropped him off at the airport eight weeks ago, he’d been itching to go home.

“I told you not to call me that.” There wasn’t any bite to her words and Lorcan knew - hoped - that she was wearing that soft, sleepy smile of hers.

He hummed, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankle, “Tell me to stop without smiling and I’ll stop. Easy-peasy, Lochan.”

Elide just muttered a curse in Blackbeak and sighed as if talking to him was some sort of divine torture, “Why are you calling? It’s not even three yet, Lor.” Instantly, remorse flooded through him. He’d forgotten completely about the time difference and told her as much. “Mmm, it’s fine. Did something happen?”

“Nah, I just wanted to say hey before my flight. I’m sorry for waking you up,” he said. Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’ve… I miss you two.”

The teasing, light mood dropped a bit. Lorcan could hear her breathing slowly and then she answered, her voice weaker than normal, “I know, Lor.” Her swallow was audible. “We miss you too.” Before he could respond, before he could offer her any sort of fleeting comfort, Elide spoke again, “Hold on one second, ok?”

She was gone before he could respond. Lorcan could hear something rustling, like someone slipping out of a bed. He froze, hardly daring to breathe. She wouldn’t- Elide and Lorcan both knew better than to have someone over when they had the kid with them.

There was soft murmuring he couldn’t quite make out and the unmistakable whine of their daughter. Lorcan slumped down in relief, cursing himself for this… jealousy. It wasn’t fair. “Hello?” snapped Stella Luna.

He chuckled, delighted by his child’s greeting, “Hey, Tiny.”

She gasped and that innocent sound, filled with childlike wonder and elation, soothed his aching heart. “Daddy?”

“Hi, Stella. I’m sorry I woke you up so early, I wanted to say hey before I get on the plane,” Lorcan explained with a smile. Thinking about Elide that summer had been painful enough, knowing he was so far from her, but it was nothing compared to the agony of missing his daughter.

“Are you coming home today? ‘Cause I got kindergarten tomorrow, Daddy. Mama said you would take me,” Stella said.

“Yes, I’m coming home today. I’ll take you to school tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. I’ve been very busy, you know. Yesterday we went shopping and at Mintage, mama found me a Wednesday Addams lunch box,” Stella regaled, her words dripping with wonder and awe. “I’m so excited ‘acause I love Wednesday Addams, Daddy, did you know? We watched it last night at Fenny’s house ‘acause he let me choose. He said he was sick of the Addams family and that’s why I called him a dummy.”

He laughed, pausing for a moment to listen to the PA. “Passengers boarding Flight 1203 to Varese, please make your way to gate C49. Passengers in zone one, please line up at the boarding desk.”

“What was that? It sounded funny, Daddy, like a robot,” Stella said.

“My plane’s getting ready to take off, Stel, they want everyone to come to the gate,” Lorcan explained. “How was Fen’s?”

“Oh,” she started, “it was very good, Daddy. After the movie, he taked me to his show an’ I wanted to bring Salem but it’s too loud for him so I sat with Essar and she got me a juice box when I was thirsty. I think it was a secret ‘acause they only give them to me. It was grape which is my favourite, but I didn’t want to finish all of it so Vee drinked it after his show. Then Fenny and me and Con and Vee went to Grampy’s and I fell asleep so Fenny took me home.”

“Passengers in zone two, please line up at the front desk.”

Lorcan checked his boarding pass, “Kid, I have to get on my plane now, ok?”

“Ok,” Stella replied, a little sadly. “I miss you.”

The corners of his lips turned down. Lorcan hung his head, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he tried to think of what he could say to comfort his child. Eventually, he said, “I know, Stella Luna. I miss you too. I promise - once I’m home, no more tours, ok? I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” she chirped, already his happy, bubbly little baby again. “Bye-bye!”

“Bye, Tiny. Put your mother on for me,” Lorcan said, laughing through the sentence. He could hear Stella Luna hand the phone over to Elide.

“Yes , you can sleep now,” Elide said with a kiss smacked on Stella’s head. “Lor, you still there?”

“Yeah, ‘m here. I have to get on the plane now.”

“Ok. Do you want us to pick you up from the airport?”

Though it pained him to say it and further delay their reunion, Lorcan said, “No, don’t bother. I’ll be tired and I’ll probably just crash when I get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

“Can’t wait, Salvaterre.”

He smiled a small smile, one that was only ever for Elide, “Me neither, Lochan.”

☽ ☼ ☾

He woke up somewhere high above the Cambrian Mountains. For a few moments, Lorcan stared out the small window, groggy and confused.

It took him a second to remember what was happening and why he was on a plane. When he finally did recall, Lorcan pulled his laptop out of his camera bag and placed it on the desk. The band he’d been working with over the summer had bought him a seat in business class for both his flights home.

Lorcan shifted in his seat and absentmindedly toyed with the curved barbell that pierced the delicate skin connecting his upper lip to his gum as he waited for his computer to turn on. He leaned down, searching through his bag for the USB that carried every shot he’d taken in concert that summer.

He found it and sat up straight. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he saw the background of his laptop. He hadn’t changed it in the three years since the photo of Elide tattooing Stella’s name in Ozuye on the outside of his right thumb while he held a sleeping Stella Luna to his chest with his free arm had been taken. The tattoo was his favourite, though it probably tied for first place with the cartoon-inspired Wednesday Addams on his inner left wrist.

The placement of both designs had been purposeful, so when he was shooting something, he could see them clearly and think about his daughter. He had never met anyone who loved the Addams family more than Stella.

Lorcan put his headphones on and played a playlist at random. Pink + White played as he opened Photoshop and uploaded a file he hadn’t even looked at yet. The photos weren’t needed for another month, but he would rather get them done now so he could focus on the upcoming studio show.

He still hadn’t decided what or who his subject would be. Maybe he would take a break from concerts and focus on something else.

For the rest of the flight, he worked to distract himself from the fact that he’d be seeing Elide again. It hardly made any difference, his mind on her like always. Lorcan had been in love with Elide for… forever. He finally realised it, though, a couple weeks before she had their daughter.

He had wanted… he had wanted a family with her. A real one, where Stella wouldn’t be perpetually split between two homes, but Elide hadn’t wanted that and Lorcan respected her wishes. Maybe it was foolish, but six years seemed like long enough to be pining for someone.

As Lorcan got lost in the thoughts he spent most of his waking hours repressing, a hissing voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother snapped, Elide Lochan is not ‘someone’ and she is certainly not someone you get over. Ever. Stupid boy.

His lips twisted with a rueful smile, though the memory of his mother ached and stung. Lorcan swallowed past the painful tightening of his throat and saved what he was working on, electing to watch something he’d downloaded on Netflix until they’d landed in Varese.

The air in Varese was balmy and he couldn’t stand it. Lorcan was seconds away from trying to peel his skin off. He had always hated the heat, but this steaming humidity was his hell.

When his zone was called to board the flight, Lorcan could hardly keep the grin from his face. The thought of seeing his family, no matter how it hurt him to know Stella would come home with him tomorrow and Elide would stay in her apartment, was a joy nothing else had ever replicated.

His heart seemed to beat a frantic timpani, each pat-pat saying, wait for me, wait for me, wait for me .

☽ ☼ ☾

There was a crick in her neck. Elide muttered a curse with her eyes shut and reached out to her bedside table, only to feel nothing and hear an innocently delighted giggle.

She smiled and kept her eyes closed. Slowly, Elide reached out, “I wonder who could be laughing right now. And where could they be!”

There was that little laugh again, though Elide knew her child was doing her absolute best to stay silent. She heard Salem’s meow of protest and Stella’s sweet shushing.

Staying silent had never been Stella’s strong suit. Elide continued on, now patting the blankets. “Hmm, I do wonder if they could be hiding beneath these blankets!” As she said ‘blankets’, Elide opened her eyes and ripped the covers away. A quick blur of orange and black flashed past as Stella’s fluffy cat was freed and Salem bounded away.

Stella Luna’s shrieking laughter filled the room, gloomy from the rain that poured steadily against the large, paned windows. Elide laughed too as she grabbed her daughter and pulled her into her lap, her fingers digging into the soft part between Stella’s ribcage and hip bone. Stella squirmed away, begging her to stop, “No, please, mama, it tickles!”

Elide chuckled softly and relented, choosing instead to gather Stella up in a long hug. “Oh, good morning, little one. How did you sleep, hmm?” She pulled back and brushed her hand through Stella’s hair.

“Um, I slept good, mama, but I’m really hungry now, so I would like to have breakfast.”

“We can do that. What do you want to eat?”

Stella flicked her eyes up to the ceiling. Though her shape was Elide’s ethereal monolid, the colour of rich browns and deep blacks was all Lorcan. “Pancakes, mama. Can we make them look like bats?”

Elide snorted and nodded, “Of course we can. Why don’t you go wash your hands and we can make them, ok?”

The four-year old was off before she could even say yes, hurriedly careening into the bathroom. Her mother laughed again, but the care-free sound bled into a pained groan as she stood up and stretched. Elide really needed to stop crashing in her daughter’s bed.

Stella hollered back from the toilet, “Mama, can we have chocolate chips in the pancakes?”

Elide smiled as she walked through Stella’s room. On the floor, one of Stella’s toys obstructed her path and Elide jammed her toe into a wooden box. She gritted her teeth against the pain and asked, “Will you clean your room today?”

“Uhhh,” Stella contemplated, “I guess. I dunno why , mama, I don’t care if it’s messy, why do you care?”

“Because your room is messy and you might hurt yourself if you don’t know where something is,” Elide replied steadily. As she pulled on a pair of shorts, she heard little feet race into the kitchen. Elide twisted her hair up and clamped it into place with a hair clip. When she padded into the kitchen, Stella Luna was standing obediently on her stool, her hands clasped like a perfect little child. Elide hooted at the sight, “Oh, you little demon.”

Stella grinned proudly at the nickname and pushed her wild hair back with both hands. She sighed in annoyance, “Mama, help please. It’s too much.”

“Of course, witchling,” Elide said. Stella clambered up onto the counter to sit patiently. Elide hummed something soft as she parted her daughter’s hair and weaved two simple pigtails. As she braided, Salem gracefully leapt onto the counter and made himself comfortable in the fruit bowl, resting his chin on his crossed paws like a proper gent. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Stella chirped as she climbed down and ran to the pantry. She flung the door open, “Mama, is Daddy coming home today?”

“He is. Remember, he called last night, baby,” Elide replied as she pulled out eggs and milk from the fridge.

“Oh, I thought that was a dream ,” explained Stella. She lugged over the large container of flour, carrying it with both arms and almost tipped over. She decided to put it on the floor and push it to the counter. “I wanna play music!”

Elide laughed as she picked the flour up and began measuring out the dry ingredients, “Go for it, Stella.” She watched in delight as Stella ran to the record player and sat on the floor in front of it to peruse the stack of records.

A couple moments later, Stella had decided and put the vinyl on. She pranced back over to her stool as music played. “Mama, can I crack a egg, please?”

When I met you in the restaurant, you could tell I was no debutante

“Yes, ma’am,” Elide passed her an egg, “Be careful, you remember what to do, right?”

“Yup!” Stella delicately cracked the egg on the side of the liquid measuring cup and used her thumbs to open it. The yolk and egg white plopped perfectly into the milk and vanilla. She picked up the whisk and mixed it all up.

Dreaming, dreaming is free

Stella was soon bored and trailed over to the living room. She sat down and started to dance with her frog stuffie, singing along, “I don’t want to live on charity, pleasure’s real or is it fantasy…” Elide grinned at the sight and found the silicone mold in the top drawer.

A few minutes later, Elide slid a stack of bat wing pancakes onto a plate. “Stella? Food’s ready.”

“Ok, mama,” Stella said. She skipped to the table and climbed onto her chair. “Can I have maple syrup too?”

Elide had already grabbed the bottle and grabbed a pair of forks drying in the dish rack. She put the plate down and sat, passing Stella her fork. Stella doused the pancakes in maple syrup and attacked viciously, stuffing an entire pancake into her mouth. Elide laughed loudly, “Baby, eat your food properly. C’mon, you know better.”

Stella grinned around the sticky-sweet mess and chewed thoroughly before swallowing. Elide took the plate and cut the food up into bite-sized pieces before passing it back. The four-year old abandoned her fork in favour of her wee hands and stuffed as many chocolatey-mapley-buttery pieces as she could into her mouth.

“Good gods, child,” her mother said. “You’ll choke.” Delight surged through her at the sound of Stella’s gleeful laughter, albeit muffled. She grabbed a napkin and reached out, holding her daughter’s chin hostage as she wiped the mess away. “I am so happy your father is coming back, he’ll finally take you off my hands, you gremlin.”

Stella gasped loudly and wrenched her chin free, “Mama, can we go to the airplane place? I want to surprise Daddy. Pretty please?”

She made her eyes big and wide, sticking her bottom lip out. Elide cracked immediately, “I think he’d like that, wouldn’t he?” Stella nodded with such vigour Elide half-thought her head would fly off. “We’ll do that later, Stel. Why don’t you finish your breakfast?”

Stella needed no further prompting.

☽ ☼ ☾

His bag was the second bag out. Lorcan easily slung the black duffel over his shoulder. He made his way out of the baggage claim and around fellow passengers numbly awaiting their belongings.

Lorcan thought about pausing, his fingers twitching to grab his camera and freeze the moment. There was something slightly surreal about it all. A voice told him to stop, to do it, but the sweet, pure voice of his baby calling him home was louder.

He was still listening to miss star’s jamzzz and clicked the ball of the piercing in his tongue against his teeth to the beats. I’m Not A Loser by the Descendents’ played at maximum volume as he strode across the scuffed and dingy linoleum.

Vaguely, he thought he might’ve heard someone calling for him. Pausing, Lorcan half-pulled a headphone off his ear. He looked around, narrowing his eyes in confusion at the sea of strangers.

“Daddy!”

“Kid?”

A wee one shot out through the passing crowd. Her hair, jet black and thick, curled out of her assumedly once-tight and neat braids. Her eyes were thin and dark, so rich and depthless, framed by long lashes. The little lass seemed to have a piece of the sun setting her warm, coppery complexion aglow from beneath. “ *Até , hi-hi!”

Stella launched herself up and Lorcan dropped his bag to catch her. He held her tight to his chest, one hand cupping the back of her head. “Tiny, Creator above. I missed you so much, my darling moon.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Stella whispered, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck. “It’s nice to see you.”

Lorcan laughed raspily at her formal greeting, “Wow, so fancy, miss Star. ‘It’s nice to see you’, really? You’re killing me, Tiny.”

She giggled, shaking her head as she pulled back, “No, I’m not fancy, Daddy. I’m tough ,” she snarled, baring her teeth intimidatingly.

Lorcan laughed again, his head tipping back, “The toughest .”

Stella beamed and abruptly stopped, an outraged gasp escaping her. She grabbed his face and pulled his head back down. When she felt his stubble, Stella Luna pulled a face, “Daddy, you have to shave. It’s scratchy.”

“What, I thought I looked nice like this, babe,” he said, shifting her to his side. “It’s that bad?”

She stared at him for a while before slowly shaking her head, “No… it’s ok, Daddy. Mama likes it like that.” Stella laid her head on his shoulder. Lorcan smiled and held her tightly again, his eyes closed.

For a long moment, neither said a word, until Stella became restless and started peering out around her. “There’s so many people, Daddy.”

“There is,” he agreed. Lorcan brushed something from her cheek and Stella batted his hand away. “So, you learn to drive while I was away, or something?”

“No! I’m still little , Daddy,” Stella Luna corrected him with a giggle. “Mama drived me.” She pointed vaguely towards the entrance, “Mama’s over there and she said, ‘Stella, hold my hand and stay close ‘till we see your dad, ok?’ but you’re so tall and I sawed your head so I ran and didn’t listen to Mama.” Gasping softly, Stella put her hands over her mouth, “Oh no. Mama! Mama, hello? I am here,” she curled her arm over his shoulder as she craned her head to look around. “Where she go?”

Lorcan looked around as well, loving and hating the way his pulse sped up at the prospect of seeing her . “I don’t know where your ma is, maybe she- oh,” Lorcan cut himself off as he saw a familiar flash of long black hair through the crowd. “There she is.”

Through the throngs of passengers and travelers, Lorcan saw a fair skinned, petite woman. Her hair was dark, streaked with purple, and fell to her hips. She left it be in its natural waves, but had it cut into a blunt, pointed fringe that framed her heart-shaped face. Her round, plush lips were painted deep, nearly black, red. They curled into a teasing grin, “Hey, Salvaterre, I see you’ve finally decided to rejoin the rabble! Was the tour too preppy for you, what with all the first class flights and champagne?”

He laughed and reached out to flick her nose, “Shut your mouth, Lochan. I’m common folk for life.” Elide laughed and Lorcan smiled, “Fuck, I can’t believe that you two came to pick me up.” He pulled Elide into a hug, something finally settling inside him as he held his girls for the first time in two months.

“No, no swearing, Daddy,” Stella chastised him, her frown disapproving, “Fuck is a bad word. A very bad word and we’re only allowed to say it when we listen to music.”

Elide laughed and slipped her arm around his waist, “A wretched word, really. It’s like you want our daughter to become a menace to society.”

“Oh, really? And what if our daughter wants to be a menace to society?”

Stella Luna nodded, sticking her chin out, “Yeah, what if I want to be a menace to society, mama?”

Elide shook her head at the two of them and narrowed her eyes at him, “This is your doing, you know, Lorcan.” Oh… how his heart stopped as his name tumbled from her lips. Lorcan struggled to breathe for a moment and Elide’s warm grin faltered. “Lor? You alright?”

“Y-yeah, just jet-lag,” he said quickly. Lorcan averted his eyes from Elide’s concerned gaze. Stella Luna wiggled, whining slightly. When she was set down on her feet, she grabbed Lorcan’s hand in one of hers and Elide’s in the other.

“Let’s go!” she shouted, tugging them along with all her might. At fifteen kilos and a solid one-hundred centimetres, it wasn’t much, but her determination made up for it. Over her head, Elide shot Lorcan a smile and a wink.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and chuckled. Stella skipped and hopped along to Elide’s car. Lorcan tossed his duffel in the trunk as Elide helped Stella into her booster seat and he walked over to the passenger seat. “Daddy,” Stella said, “did you know my birthday is in two months? That means I’m gonna be five whole years.”

“Wow, you’re going to be so old ,” he said dramatically, smiling in the rearview mirror when Stelle’s jaw dropped open and her eyes widened.

“I don’t want to be old. Old people are yucky. Like you and mom.” Elide and Lorcan looked at each other and burst into gutsy laughter at their daughter’s words. Stella sniffed primly and turned her face to the side, “It’s not funny to be old. Being old means you die. Do you want to die, Daddy?”

“If I die, I become a ghost and I’ll haunt people,” he said.

“Would you haunt me ?” the girl asked, her eyes filled with morbid curiosity.

Elide huffed a laugh. She turned the car on and smoothly pulled out of her parking spot to the freeway that would take them back to Orynth. “You two are ridiculous. Stella, baby, no one’s haunting you.”

“Yeah, except for me,” Lorcan ever-so-helpfully stated.

As Elide exclaimed in annoyance, Stella giggled uncontrollably. The dark haired woman couldn’t help but laugh along and the sound of their laughter soothed the dull ache of missing them.

☽ ☼ ☾

“ Até, ‘m tired,” said Stella, trailing up to Lorcan. She was all ready for bed, dressed in her Jack Skellington pyjamas. Her dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese had been devoured an hour ago. Lorcan was in Elide’s kitchen, washing the dishes as Elide worked on a sketch and Stella checked her backpack over and over and over again. She was not going to be caught unprepared for her first day of kindergarten.

He rinsed off the iron skillet and placed it in the dish rack. Lorcan dried his hands and turned to his daughter, who held her hands up expectantly. With a fond smile, Lorcan scooped her up and asked, “Time for bed? Did you brush your teeth yet?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Daddy, don’t forgot Mr. Ribbit.” Stella said softly, already falling asleep. She clutched at his shoulders, a yawn splitting her little face in half.

His grin softened and he kissed the top of her head, “Can’t forget your frog, now, can we?” There came a low chuckle from the living room. Elide walked over to them, her pencil stuck in her hair and carrying the fuzzy green animal. She passed the animal to Stella and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Lorcan offered her his hand, “Come with us?”

Elide nodded and slipped her hand in his. They walked to Stella's room together. She breathed evenly and deeply, her eyes closed. Her lashes brushed the tops of her rosy cheeks. Lorcan set her down with care and tucked her blankets around her. “Good night, my darling moon,” he said softly - in his native tongue - and brushed her hair back before it could tickle the tip of her button nose.

“Night-night,” Stella whispered, her eyes cracking open. “Are you gonna come drive me with mama tomorrow to school?” She snuggled into her pile of pillows and held her blanket up for Salem to settle in beside her. The cat curled up against her and purred softly as he flicked his fluffy tail over her protectively.

“Yes, I am.”

She nodded, “Good. That’s good, Daddy.”

“Alright, Tiny,” he laughed softly, “go to sleep, yeah? You’ve had a big day.” He kissed her forehead and stood up to let Elide say good night.

Elide sat down on the edge of the mattress and cupped Stella’s face in her hand, her words soft and too low for Lorcan to hear. She too chuckled and kissed Stella Luna’s cheek, then got up and stepped over to Lorcan.

They closed the door and silently walked back to the living room. Lorcan sat down on the couch and rubbed his eyes. Elide curled up in the opposite corner and smiled, “Tired?”

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his head back against the couch. “Fuck me, I have to go home.”

“Why don’t you just stay here tonight? You’ll have to come back tomorrow anyway,” Elide said, her voice measured.

Lorcan looked at her, but her face was turned to the side. “Are you sure, El? I honestly don’t mind and I haven’t been to my place in a while.”

She glanced over at him, “No, c’mon, it’s fine. It’s not like we’ve never done it.”

“Done what?”

Elide shot him a flat look, “Slept in the same bed.”

Lorcan choked and his eyes widened, “El- what? I was just going to take the–”

“I swear to Anneith if you say ‘couch’, I’ll strangle you. I’m not making you sleep on my couch when you’ve been gone all summer.” Elide stood up and walked to her bedroom, her hips swinging enticingly. Lorcan quickly looked away. “Besides, my bed is big. I promise I won’t give you my cooties.”

He snapped his teeth and crossed the room to join her. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

Elide crossed her arms over her chest and smiled cockily, “I knew you would.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lorcan said, pulling her into his arms. Her body melted into his. They fit perfectly together. They always had. “You’re always right, aren’t you, princess?”

Elide hid her smile and slipped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed above his heart. For a long moment, neither said a word. Then, Elide pressed her forehead against him and whispered. She couldn’t speak any louder, fearing that the tears she’d held back for years would finally spill over. “It’s nice to have you home, Lor.”

“It’s nice to be home,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back.

“It wasn’t the same without you.” It’s never the same without you.

He closed his eyes, hating the tears that blurred his vision. “Wasn’t the same without you, either, Lochan.”

☽ ☼ ☾

an: ahh ! it’s here ! a few things will b different for this wip, so i just want to let u all kno:

- chapters will b posted once a week on mondays, at 8pm pacific standard time

- there will b flashback chapters !!

- there will b depictions of recreational drug (marijuana) and alcohol consumption - i will put warnings for these n if there r any other triggers u would like me to warn, pls let me know

- if u want to b added/removed from the tag list, just send me an ask - it is rlly no trouble at all <3

translation: *Até: Father/Dad in Lakota (i headcanon lorcan to be native american - speficially Oglala Lakota. this will b more apparent/relevant in future chapters. i call his tribe 'the ozuye'. 'ozuye' means war-party in lakota)

songs played in chapter: (by order of appearance) 1. Pink + White - Frank Ocean 2. Dreaming - Blondie 3. I'm Not A Loser - Descendents

@mythicaitt @werewolffprince @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @silversprings28 @myshadowsingeraz @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @ladywitchling @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr

#star-crossed & moon drunk #sc&md chapter one #all the stars rewrite #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #stella luna salvaterre lochan #isa writes #nalgenewhore #whoo hoo we're in for it now buds #this is a slooowwww burn

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ssreeder · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, how are you?

So I am in one of my creative writting classes and my teacher was asking me about my current readings so I said "some... stuff in the internet" but she wanted to know more, I was honest: "It's called Leaving it all behind, and it's about two guys in a torture camp and (...)".

Anyway, now my classics lover teacher wants to read your fanfic:) I don't know what to feel

You don’t know what to feel?!

I don’t know what to feel!!

*internal screaming*

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followthepurrgil · 2 years ago

Text

Okay Free - but hear me out: a slooowwww burn leading to spicy times 🥹

I know there are all kinds of explanations and nuances, buttttt…

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thepsychewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Ignite Pt. Two | N. Romanoff

I’m glad you’ve come to your senses...

Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

Summary: Natasha brings you to S.H.I.E.L.Ds helicarrier where you reunite with an old friend and meet a few new faces. Natasha and Fury let you in on the dangers they currently face and what exactly is at stake.

> Word Count: 3.2K

> Warnings: Like one or two cuss words, nothing else.

A/N: Okay guys, this part is a bit beefier than the last, but y’all deserve it. Not a lot of Natasha n Reader interactions just yet, but when I write slow-burns... it’s slooowwww babeeyyy. It’ll be worth it in the end, though ;) I apologize for any grammatical errors, I only re-read once lol. Also- yes, I am so incredibly detail oriented that I looked up quantum sciencey shit for this. Love you crazy mfers. Enjoy :)

EDIT: Now in Second Person POV.

Pt. One | Pt. Three

——————————

You watched with watery eyes as the place you had called home for the last few years of your new life was torched, every last bit withering away under the heat that blanketed it.

You were not a happy camper.

“Was making me burn my house down really necessary?” You called as Natasha opened the door to the two-passenger plane, throwing in the last of your bags.

“Unfortunately, yes. You can’t leave any trace behind. It’s just how things go from now on.” She turned back around to face you, the flames from the house throwing an amber hue over you both. “I think it’s good now, you can put it out.”

You let it go for a second longer, letting yourself grow calm in the warmth it provided. You could tell Natasha was growing impatient- evident from the heavy sighs that kept falling from her lips. At last you let your eyes flutter close, focusing just long enough for the flames to simmer down until the orange glow disappeared completely.

Along with your ability to start fires, you’re also capable of putting them out- ones large enough to put an entire fire department to shame. And you can do it almost instantly as long as your concentration doesn’t waver. You’re still not one hundred percent sure how it works, but tests that were ran on you back in the institution concluded that you can suck the oxygen from an area, essentially suffocating the fires you start just by looking at them.

It’s weird, but you don’t question it.

It’s not like you can question it, anyway.

“Great. Let’s go now.” Natasha huffed as she climbed in the plane, keeping the door open for you as you slid in behind her. She kept her eyes trained on you while you buckled in and pushed on the headset, her long stare making the hairs on your arm stand straight under your coat. She mumbled something you didn’t catch, pushing down buttons on the main control panel as she got you air-born. With one last fleeting look to the ash below you watched as the plane climbed higher in altitude, the rubble quickly fading from sight.

You got comfortable in the leather seats, assessing her carefully as she continued to control the plane with ease. “So is Fury still caught up in the whole Avengers Initiative thing? Or is that old news?”

She kept her eyes forward as though maybe she didn’t even hear you speak. You thought that was the case until she began to answer you.

“How long has it been since you’ve talked to him?”

More like question you.

You hummed as you thought. “Probably eight weeks or so.”

“It’s part of the reason why I was asked to get you. We have a few others that will be joining us, and I’m sure Fury will be willing to explain it better when we get there. But the Avengers Initiative is still on, and he wants you to be part of it.”

——

The ride to the helicarrier, as Natasha had called it, wasn’t as long as you were expecting. You landed just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, it’s harsh rays flitting in your eyes every so often. The carrier was in the middle of the ocean, which made your stomach churn a bit. You weren’t the biggest fan of open bodies of water.

Guess you should’ve mentioned that earlier.

The two of you exited the plane and made your way onto the top platform. Natasha was walking ahead of you, her chin up and shoulders back, an epitome of confidence. “The rest of them are already here, but I think Nick would like to see you first.”

Of course he would.

You followed her across the platform and down to the inside of the helicarrier. It was much bigger than it seemed from the outside, and after you crossed a few hallways you made it to the front where it opened up into a massive room with long, curved windows facing north. It was lined with computers and machines, each one being poked at by an agent of Fury’s, their eyes locked in concentration. Dozens of voices rang out, calling orders left and right to whoever was listening. Natasha kept walking to the center platform, her steps growing slower as you finally caught sight of the man himself.

“Fury, I think Christmas came early this year.” Natasha nearly sang, getting the attention of the tall, one-eyed man who wore dark leather all over and sported a stubbly beard. His good eye lit up as you approached closer, an impressed smirk on his face.

“And I thought this day would never come, Y/n. How the hell did you do it, Romanoff?” Fury laughed, leaning himself against a buzzing control panel.

“Persuasion is my strong suit, remember?” She teased, standing impossibly close to you. You held a neutral face, hoping you didn’t look too bitchy, but not caring enough if that was the case.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Y/l/n. We are more than happy to have you here.”

You shifted a bit, rolling your weight on the back of your heels. “I’m sure you are. I’d say I’m happy to be here, but I uh- I don’t like to lie, so.”

He chuckled lightly, bowing his head for a moment as he did so. “Oh trust me, I know. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve ended a phone call with you with my ego severely bruised after. It always comes back to me though.” He looked behind himself for a moment. “On second thought, maybe she’ll bring you out of that funk of yours.”

You stepped out to see around him, and it didn’t take you long to realize what he meant when a lanky brunette woman nearly strangled you as she came in for a hug.

“Y/n? Holy shit! I really didn’t think they’d get you here.”

Maria Hill. The one person here you didn’t completely hate.

You had first spoken to Maria seven years ago when you were in the institution, also called The Roth Institute for Destructive and Extraordinary Children- T.R.I.D.E.C, for short. Her and Fury had some sort of secret operation going on and were in cahoots with the directors of T.R.I.D.E.C.

Not exactly, though.

They were intentionally double crossing them, acting as though they were playing into the directors ideas for the children of the institution, when in reality- they were scoping. Not only were they looking for people like you to help free, but they were trying to take down the entirety of T.R.I.D.E.C.

They failed, however, and quite miserably at that. T.R.I.D.E.C was smart in their operations, knowing that all of the kids were put there “willingly�� by their parents and guardians with permission. Fury could never gather enough sufficient information to use against them, so the case went dead and they left.

But- not before they spoke to you.

Since you were the golden child of the institute, your name always piqued the interest of any guests, good or bad. You never knew which was which. Maria had you taken to a quiet room where she asked basic questions, much to which you had no real answer.

Before you were taken back to your room, she slipped you a torn piece of construction paper that was folded meticulously into a tiny origami crane. She pressed her finger to her lips, indicating that you were to keep this crane a secret.

You were wonderful at keeping secrets.

Inside the origami crane was a phone number. It was the first one you called after you had escaped.

And it was Maria’s.

She helped you figure out different places you could go and who to get ahold of incase you ran into trouble. Once Fury had realized you were out, all he wanted to do was to get you to turn to S.H.I.E.L.D. You said no. They both understood why you turned it down, and why you hated organizations with intricate acronyms as names. While Fury still called a few times a year in hopes of persuading you, Maria did too.

But only to check on your well-being.

That’s why she’s a little higher on the friend list than Fury.

She squeezed at your sides a bit harder before releasing you, staring at you like some sort of lost puppy.

“Well, things have changed, I guess. You don’t know how glad I am to see you.” You said, noting how her face hadn’t changed a bit in the last seven years.

“See? Somehow, I’m always right.” Fury chuckled, dodging a smack to the shoulder from Maria. “Hey now- don’t scratch the leather.” He pointed, earning a look from the both of you.

“Romanoff- why don’t you show Y/l/n to her room? There’s a few things in there waiting for her.” Fury asked, turning to Natasha.

She stepped back to your side, shooting you an encouraging look. “Of course, follow me.”

——

“Blaze? Really? What kinda alias is that?” You scoffed, holding out the white card for Natasha to read. “I mean the suit is fine and all but… c’mon that name…” She grabbed the card while you looked yourself over in the mirror, stretching your limbs to get more comfortable in the material.

Fury had a tactile suit made for you, somehow getting your measurements perfect. It was an obsidian black with the material, all of it heat resistant and non-flammable. Tiny round lines of orange ran down throughout the suit, curving over each limb and down your torso. The part that covered your chest was assumedly bulletproof, the hard metal providing support and helping slightly with the nerves. It was surprisingly comfortable as well and had a few pockets and straps down the legs for extra weapons if needed.

“To be fair, it’s only for the media and public, anyway. We all have an alias, but yours is a little more important. We don’t want your real name to get out, not yet, at least. For your safety.” Natasha said, holding the card down to her side and letting her eyes trail over your image in the mirror.��“Put the mask on, see how it fits.”

She nodded to the last piece of the suit that laid on a plush chair, a matching piece of black metal that would cover your face from your nose to under your chin, keeping your identity a secret. You lifted it up, tracing down the side of it with your fingers. With a quick sigh you put it on, snapping the piece together at the back of your head. Luckily most of your hair covered the sides and back, so it didn’t look weird once it was on.

“Push down,” Natasha started, grabbing your hand softly and holding it to the bottom right of the mask, “here.” She rested your index finger over a flat button you didn’t even notice was there before. You gave it a press, not hiding your surprise when the mask molded to the exact curve of your jaw, practically melting into the perfect fit. It tightened slightly, but there were tiny holes and a filter right by your mouth, so you weren’t worried about suffocating in there.

You did another once-over in the mirror, admiring the intricacy of the suit. “You can thank Stark for that mask, he’s the one who made it for you. He has quite the specialty in metalworking.” Natasha said, keeping her eyes on yours through the mirror. You nodded.

“Stark... that’s uh- Tony, right? Iron Man?” You asked, recalling some of the news channels you’ve seen him on.

“Mhm.” She confirmed.

You pressed the button on the mask and took it off, tossing it back on the chair. “He’s here already, yeah? Along with the others you mentioned?”

She hummed again. “They just got back, actually.”

You took one last glimpse at your reflection, wondering if this was really the face of some vigilante super-human savior they wanted you to be. You didn’t quite look the part yet, but things like that take time, right?

Right?

“I’m ready to meet them now.”

——

You tried your best to stop your hands from shaking as the both of you walked along a dimly lit corridor, but it wasn’t much use. As you neared the end you came to an open set of doors which led back to the main area you were in before. You noticed a large table ahead with a few people gathered around it, chatting amongst themselves.

Get it together, Y/n.

Instead of walking ahead, Natasha stayed close to your side, the two of you walking in tandem to the center of the room. She cleared her throat before speaking. “How’d it go?” She asked, looking down at one of the men who sat in a chair at the table.

Steve Rogers. Captain America.

“We got him. Fury has him locked down in one of the bottom floors- we’re trying to assess how to move forward.” He answered in a flat, serious voice. His gaze landed on you while he adjusted slightly in the chair. “Who’s this?”

Natasha stole a glance at you. “This is Y/n Y/l/n. Fury’s got her going by Blaze. She’ll be joining us while we figure out what to do with Loki and the scepter.”

You gave a weak, tight-lipped smile, taking a step forward closer to the table. Two other men stood around it, one you had also already known about thanks to the nightly news you kept an eye on.

Bruce Banner. The Hulk.

The other guy looked quite... otherworldly- his chiseled face and long golden strands of hair making him stand out. That- and the large red cape he sported down his back.

Bruce was the first to step up, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Dr. Bruce Banner, it’s nice to meet you.” His hand was a lot warmer than you were expecting.

“Yeah, you too.”

The man in the cape was next. “Thor, son of Odin. I come from Asgard. Loki is my brother.” He took your hand like Bruce had, although his grip was... firm, to say the least. Had he pressed down any harder you surely would’ve come out of the handshake with a broken finger or two. He also spoke like some mid-century poet.

You quirked a brow, somewhat by accident, not quite understanding what he had said. “Asgard? Where’s that at?”

His chest rumbled with a quick laugh. “Oh, just a quick trip through the bi-frost of course.”

You gave a confused laugh in return, just accepting his answer instead of asking questions. “Right, the bi-frost, of course...”

“So they’re calling you Blaze, huh? Does that mean...” Steve started, getting your attention off of Thor.

With a slight nod you confirmed his question. “Yeah, I uh-” You started to answer before Fury waltzed in behind Natasha.

“She’s a human tiki-torch, Captain, nothing strange about that.” Fury called, leaving Steve to send an apologetic look your way.

You noticed how Bruce’s head tilted to the side, his mind clearly in deep thought. “Wait, like fire? How does that work?” He asked aloud, clearly not caring if it was insensitive to ask or not.

It wasn’t, you just thought it was funny.

“Oh, uh- my, my hands.” You answered, tripping over your words from being caught off guard.

His eyes went wide. “Your hands? Like...”

You threw a look at Fury for approval. He rolled his eye and gave a single nod.

Bringing your hand up chest-level and turning it over, it lit up, a palm-sized fire burning over your flesh. It flickered and twisted but stayed small. You brought your other hand up beside it, another fire starting in it. You looked up at Bruce.

“Like this.”

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but words came from behind you instead.

“Are we making s’mores and singing kumbaya over here? Oh- no that’s just little miss hothead being a show-off.”

Tony Stark. Iron Man.

You closed your palms, smothering the fire and flicking away the small trails of smoke it left behind. Bruce was still standing with his mouth wide open, looking at you and Fury incredulously. For a man who could turn into the (not so) jolly green giant when his anger boiled over, he seemed to be highly amused at your ability.

“Tony Stark, it is so nice to finally meet you.” Tony said, clasping his hand over yours despite the literal fire that was in it mere seconds ago. “How’s that mask working out? S’it fit?”

“Oh, yeah it fits great, actually. Thanks for making it for me.” You said, gaining some slight whiplash from everything going on.

“Don’t mention it, kid.” He smiled, giving your shoulder a slight pat before moving for the table.

Your mind went foggy as Tony began walking around, talking with Bruce and Steve about the Tesseract and the things this Loki guy had planned. Natasha gave you a short debriefing earlier about some of the things Loki was wanting.

Earth was the main trade off.

“He’d have to heat the Cube to one hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” Bruce pointed out, a discussion about some sort of portal going on.

Coulomb barrier?

“He wouldn’t have to break through the barrier if one of them figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect. Does that scientist Selvig guy have the knowledge to do that?” You countered, wondering if that would even be possible.

All of their heads turned to you in sync, confusion written on all of their faces.

“Pardon?” Tony called.

You caught a whiff of sarcasm, but continued anyway. “Well, for this... portal. The Coulomb barrier is just an energy barrier, so to overcome it, particles must have sufficient thermal kinetic energy to exceed the Coulomb repulsion. Quantum tunneling, while going against the laws of classical mechanics, can still increase the particles probability of penetrating that barrier. It’s incredibly difficult to stabilize, but if done correctly, in theory... it could work.”

There was a long pause of silence.

“Yeah- so we already knew that, but- how... how do you know that?” Tony asked, holding out a finger that was pointed in your direction.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Dunno. I’m into science, I guess.”

Or science was one of the core subjects they drilled into your heads at T.R.I.D.E.C.

There was another pause while you pieced the information together.

“Wait, so Loki wants to open this portal to let his little alien space friends in, all so they can get the Tesseract and he can rule Earth?”

Fury gave a nod. “That seems to be the consensus.”

Tony took in a long, deep breath, running a hand along his greying facial hair. “You got anywhere important to be, kid? Because if not, I think you’ll be useful in the labs with myself and Dr. Banner.”

As you started to answer a gentle hand landed on the small of your back. “She should probably get some sleep first. It’s been a long day.”

It was Natasha.

As the words left her mouth you nearly let out a yawn, realizing it had been well over twenty four hours since you last slept.

“Yeah, she’s right. I probably won’t be as useful without a little shut-eye first. But I’d love to take you up on that offer still, if that’s alright?” You said, gazing up at Tony.

“Of course. Come find us whenever you’re ready, Third Degree.”

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@wandanatvoid @diaryoflife

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