#but suddenly felt a compulsive desire to put it out there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flickeringart · 3 years

Text

Planets in the 8th House

Like all the watery houses, the 8th house is mysterious and potent, yet it’s difficult to fully get a grasp of. The area of life that this house represents are usually summarized by worn out key words; death, transformation, regeneration, rebirth, sex, shared finances, the occult, hidden complexes, power struggles, trauma, crisis and the list goes on… from these words one gathers that the 8th is not a light-hearted sphere of life – it signifies struggle and emotional intensity. Having planets in the 8th, strong Pluto or Scorpio influence usually revolves around the same themes – paranoia, the striving for control and a tendency to keep things private and buried in order to sustain power.

I’m not going to discuss the difference of having strong Scorpio-Pluto placements vs. having planets in the 8th house in this post, but since the sign, planet and house are linked and are symbolic of the same themes, there’s a lot of overlap that is to be expected.

A person with planet(s) in the 8th will not act out the planetary principles consciously. Usually, the energy is felt through their aura, quiet but evident, as if the planet makes its presence known without revealing itself. For example, someone with Venus in the 8th might not openly declare affection and love, except in the most intimate of settings, but it’s unquestionably there. Picture the goddess of love living within a person as a body of water. She is there, but she is slippery and unable to manifest through conscious expression in daily life. The reason for planets in the 8th house “hiding” usually has something to do with fear of losing control, of exposing something taboo and risky that could have dire consequences. We see this phenomenon in movies all the time – a person isn’t conscious of the fact the he or she is in love with a person but it’s obvious to everyone else – this would be typical of Venus in the 8th. One doesn’t dare to express it because it would alter the way of things, it would violate the sense of self-control and expose one’s vulnerability. Pain accompanies planets in the 8th, however benefic, because they impose themselves on the person and puts everything on the line. It’s a little bit like opening Pandora’s box – one can never go back to how things were before one fell in love, yet one resists the power with which one is pulled into a relationship. Even Venus and Jupiter, the most “positive” planets are operating in a way that makes the person feel out of control. Sure, it’s probably more positive to be invaded by love and abundance than anything else, but it can still be shocking and fearful to a person that doesn’t want to acknowledge the autonomy of the planet and has put up rigid defenses against it, only to have them be shattered. In the case of Venus in the 8th, personal love and affection is very private and usually has some kind of trauma or complex tied up with it. Looking at astrotheme’s database of people with Venus in the 8th , Miley Cyrus pops up at the top of the page with this placement. In some of her more personal songs, lyrics hint to her being afraid of love and intimacy. Even in her famous song “Wrecking Ball” she sings about falling under love’s spell and slowly seeing a relationship turn to “ashes on the ground”. If this isn’t typical symbolism of transformation through love I don’t know what is.

With the Moon in the 8th house, the person doesn’t openly express emotion – the emotions erupt volcanically from time to time, and it’s very uncomfortable for the person because there’s a feeling of being exposed and threatened that accompanies this release. Because of the fear that is tied up with emotion, the person might show dislike and defensiveness when faced with other people’s emotional expressions and needs. Sigmund Freud had his Moon in the 8th, which is very telling. He was obviously interested in uncovering the complexes behind certain reactions, presumably because he didn’t feel himself to be in control of his own emotions and inner life. He was certainly motivated to transform and free himself and his clients of the tight grip of the unconscious patterns of the 8th house. He explored the underlying mechanisms of repression, formulated the Oedipus complex and postulated the existence of libido – sexual energy with which the mental processes are invested. The Moon’s placement in the 8th would point to deeply rooted emotional and possibly sexual ties with the mother. The Oedipus complex is after all a desire for sexual involvement with the opposite sex and the presence of repressed incestuous instincts. Freud noted that he had wanted to marry his mother as a child to rival with the father and understood that it must be a universal principle among all boys in all cultures. This has not been thoroughly empirically proven, but it’s certainly reveals something about Freud’s own psychology. In any case with Moon in the 8th, the emotional and instinctual nature is accompanied with a sense of it being taboo and shameful. The emotional nature is experienced to be powerful beyond personal control.

Mercury in the 8th is a another story. Mercury is the planet of communication, thinking and deductive reasoning. When looking up people with this placement, it seems to me that it is common among people who speak up about uncomfortable topics, that which would be considered “risky business” to talk about. Prince Harry has this placement and he has been very open recently about his mental health struggles. Emma Watson has this placement and she has been an advocate for feminism and equality – preaching and advocating strongly with emotional investment when giving the famous UN speech in 2014. Lana Del Rey has this placement and she writes lyrics based on her own personal experiences, not shying away from dark topics like death, heartbreak, destructive and passionate relationships. It seems as if Mercury in this house gives the person a propensity for talking and thinking about that which in uncomfortable, for revealing difficult power-imbalances and dynamics taking place within the psyche. There’s usually a feeling of being cautious of what one reveals, of sitting on information that holds emotional power and that involves other people. With any planet in this house there’s a strong impulse to be aware of other people, in case of Mercury it’s what other people know and don’t know, what they say and don’t say. Mercury in the 8th might be indicative of a person who is controlled by what other people say and feels at the mercy of other people’s opinions – positively and negatively. The narratives and stories of other people might merge with the person on a deep level and fuel one’s own opinions. One might be exposed to challenging, discriminative and harmful opinions, even indoctrinated in them. When speaking one’s mind, one might have to summon a lot of bravery because more than likely there’s a bit of a chokehold that is being felt and effort that is required to break free from deeply instilled thought patterns. This placement could be indicative of a person that likes to think and communicate about deep and taboo topics, reveal and keep secrets.

With Mars in the 8th, one simple interpretation would be “someone who is prone to experience physical violence in intimate relationships”. Either one is the victim of it or the perpetrator, perhaps even a bystander or a protector. The violence, albeit linked to physical action, might just manifest in the form of acting without another’s best interest in mind. There’s usually a sense of being at the mercy of other people’s actions with this placement, but also of having no conscious control over one’s own motivations for doing things, one’s own drive to make things happen. Princess Diana had this placement, conjunct Pluto-Uranus, and she was far from feeling in absolute control of her direction in life. With Pluto-Mars the drive is buried and tied up with the primal survival instinct and latent rage. Her relationship with Prince Charles was anything but smooth and she felt like a victim to greater forces (Pluto-Uranus) making her act in a way that was, most certainly, driven by emotional complexes and not out of conscious will. She also behaved in a way with her compulsive eating and independent streak that was not favorably looked upon. J.F. Kennedy also had this placement, he too had difficulties on the relationship front, mostly because he had a compulsive sexual drive and had a lot of extramarital affairs. This is typical of Mars in the 8th being tied up with emotional complexes – he couldn’t stick to his wife; he had to prove himself and his masculinity through conquering women (he has Jupiter conjunct his Mars and we all know how faithful Jupiter was in mythology). His sexual appetite caused moral problems among the Secret Service agents who were employed to smuggle women in and out of the White House. His behavior was altogether inappropriate but somehow he survived politically as it was kept in the shadows. Diana certainly had her own extramarital affairs as well, perhaps to revenge Charles for his strong tie with Camilla and subsequent declining interest in their marriage. Mars in the 8th is undoubtedly indicative of action taken out of the need to retain emotional integrity, sometimes with unfavorable consequences. Notably, both Diana and J.F. Kennedy died suddenly, Diana in a car accident and J.F. Kennedy through assassination by a bullet. The 8th house is the house of death, and Mars here usually indicates a violent and sudden strike of “fate”.

Last but not least, let’s take a look at the Sun in the 8th house. The same people who shows up when searching for Mercury, Mars and even Venus, also have the Sun in this house; J.F. Kennedy, Lana Del Rey, Emma Watson and Prince Harry, which is not surprising considering that the inner planets never stray too far from the Sun. The Sun represents the ego, the sense of self-knowledge and self-awareness. The Sun is representative of the conscious center of the personality. This suggests that the people with this placement are painfully aware of death and violation, of the destructive nature of reality. While the Moon in the 8th might indicate that emotional reactions or lack thereof stem from deep seated autonomous complexes rooted in survival, the Sun might indicate a sense of self and self-expression that stems from the difficulties and hardships one has gone through. This placement can be understood in the sentiment “who am I without my trauma?”. There’s the tendency to identify with the ordeals of one’s life and how one overcame them (or didn’t). This dynamic is evident in all the people listed at the top of this paragraph. Prince Harry being a very obvious one that people make fun of nowadays – he’s coming out as a survivor of past down ancestral trauma, attempting to work through and shine a light on his personal struggles growing up within the Royal Family, attempting to separate himself from the curses of unconscious programming. Lana Del Rey certainly enjoys identifying and expressing the darker side of herself, illuminating the theme of death and emotional hardship in her songs. Emma Watson also seems to identify with the hurt and injustice present in the world and is a spokesperson for collective movements (Sun in the 8th, Leo in the 11th). J.F. Kennedy has the same Sun –Leo house setup as Emma, channeling his experience of personal hardships into his career and public life. In a sense, people who want to appeal to the masses and make a change on a large scale must be personally invested enough to fuel the movement. In the case of the 8th house being involved with Kennedy and Watson, they might feel as if their sense of self is dictated by other people’s values or that they would have to fight to remain in control of their sense of self. As the Sun relates to the father, the father figure might’ve been quite controlling, demanding and dominant. If the Moon in the 8thsays something about a mother complex, the Sun in the 8thdefinitely says something about a father complex.

#planets in the 8th house #mars in the 8th house #venus in the 8th house #mercury in the 8th house #astrology signs #8th house in astrology #moon in the 8th house #sun in the 8th house #personal planets #house placements #houses in astrology

546 notes · View notes

sepublic · 3 years

Text

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

…

SO! Onto other things first…

WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

(Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

WHAT AN EPISODE!

142 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

Attack Of The Winter Wolf: It Can Be Fixed

Summary- 8.9k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Packs are being destroyed and Alphas taken. The danger is hovering closer, its just a matter of time till it falls on Steve’s doorstep. For now he is enjoying his life as a Bonded Alpha, making the most out what peace he has found with his Little One. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Weapons, mass murder, language, m/f sex.

A/N- Hey everyone, thank you for sticking with me through this and THANK YOU for all the support shown. I hope you all enjoy this next section in the Alpha’s life. Happy Howling 🐺💙

Prologue / Masterlist

“You know what you need to do.” The Hydra Agent now known as Soldat snarled at the smaller woman next to him. Her eyes flashed red while never moving off the target in the bar, her fingers swirling beside her, wisps of red energy dancing between her fingers. She pursued her dark red lips, as she focused on the man slouching against the bar.

Her target. This would be easy, she might not even have to put a compulsion on him to trust her. She thought to herself studying him. A weak wolf drowning his meaningless misery, seducing him wouldn't be an issue.

“Attract the target, have him bring all of us onto his pack lands without the Alpha being alarmed. I have my orders.”

Soldat growled in response, turning away to go back to the truck to wait for the woman known as Wanda to carry out her mission. Now she was nothing more than a mindless Hydra Agent to be told her orders, Wanda nothing more than a memory for the woman now.

On her neck, she adorned a thin chain, tight against her throat. All of them did, someone would have to really look to even notice the restraints. Those chains were powerful, controlled magic from Hydra. Touched with a power no Wolf should possess. Inside they were trapped, Wolf and Person, unable to break loose from the mind control forced on them. Wanda lifted her fingers to trace the collar, the vibrations coming from it barely felt, but reassuring to the controlled hostage. Hydra had full control.

Wanda readjusted her low cut blouse, smoothing her hands over her leather skirt, and entered the bar. Her boots clicked on the old hardwood floor of the building, the air was filled with stale nicotine, made her over sensitive nose curl in distaste, and a jukebox wailed some rendition of Ac/Dc Back in Black. When she passed, men looked her way, momentarily distracted by the vision they saw, something personal for each, the woman of their dreams.

But the Scarlet Witch ignored them, there was only one man she was focused on, one Wolf she needed to ensnare. And luckily for her, he happened to catch sight of her just then, half sputtering in his bottle.

The Wolf she was now had growled deeply in satisfaction, streamlined as the beast crouched in her mind, hunting him just as much as Wanda was right now. The Witch ignored her corrupted beast aching to kill. Instead she sidled up to him, taking his bottle and pressing it to her lips all while watching him as she drank his last few swallows.

His nostrils flared to scent her, trying to figure her out. He was swarmed with the heavy scent of arousal, a female in heat and it made the Wolf in him lick his muzzle in interest. She shook her head lightly to let her hair fall away from her shoulder, the length of her neck flashing so he could really have his senses assaulted. He would smell everything he desired, in this case his Wolf started howling for the scent of hot sex and whiskey. Another deep inhale and his eyes snapped open, simmering a yellow as his beast reared its head for control. Wanda smirked as she set the bottle down.

“Looks like I owe you a drink.” She said with such an innocence, and he smirked, clearly ready to play the game.

“That you do Babe, but what kind of man would I be if I made the woman pay?” He dug out his wallet and put some cash down. “Another two beers please. What's your name? Mine is Tommy.”

Wanda let her hands wander to his arm resting on the bar, her nails softly trailing down the top of his arm to his wrist and back up. “Wanda.”

Once they were alone, he turned his stool to face her, giving his full attention to Wanda, looking her up and down once while rubbing his hands against his spread jean clad thighs. “So Wanda, what brings you in a place like this?”

“Just going through town.” Wanda stepped in closer, between his thighs, and slid her hand up behind his neck, letting her fingers dance in a sensual way, planting images of their bodies colliding, grinding, him laying a claim on her. “A few friends and I were looking for a place to stay. I came in, hoping someone would have a suggestion.”

He shook his head a bit, reaching for the bottle just dropped off and took a drag off it, hoping it would calm him down, cool the eager snapping Wolf in his mind and the semi hard on in his jeans.

“There ain't much as far as motels in town, but how many people you got that need a place to stay sweetheart?” Now Tommy’s hand drifted to Wanda's waist, letting himself get familiar with how she felt, the images still sweltering in his mind of mindless sex. Wanda let her hand curl onto his shoulder, biting her lip while whispering just before his lips. “Not many, three men.”

“Three men?” He pulled back a bit, a look of uncertainty at bringing competition for him onto pack lands. “I really only have space for you Sweetheart.”

Wanda let her lips press against his, drawing him to lean into her a bit before pulling back, whimpering just soft enough for his Wolf to want to change his answer, pushing for the man to give in.

The Alpha will be pissed if I bring four Wolves onto our lands.

“Well, okay. I will tell my brother and friend’s that we will have to go to the next town.” She went to pull away when his hand shot out, grasping Wanda's wrist.

<She’s ours, she wants us. Wants to be our mate, you can’t let her go. Besides, one of those males is her brother.> The Wolf snarled and Tommy’s fingers flexed around her slender wrist.

“Now hold on Sweetheart, maybe… maybe we can figure something out.” He pulled her back to him, and let his hold lay claim on her ass, arching her into him.

“Come home with me, and your friends, they can stay in my camper out back. There's plenty of space for them in there, I got it hooked up so they can do what they need to.”

Wanda gave a quirk of a grin and lapped her tongue over his lips as his reward. “Deal, lead the way? We will follow.” Without another thought, her victim yanked out some crumbled bills from his wallet, and led them out the door. Sealing his fate.

Bouncing down a dirt road, Soldat was going through his gear, handing stuff off to Wanda and Pietro. Clint followed the tail lights closely, making the turns when necessary.

“Pietro, as soon as we're in the clear of any alarm, shift and start flushing people out of their homes.” Soldat picked up a wickedly lethal blade and fitted it into the holster. “Wanda, you mind fuck as many as you can. And NO ONE FUCKING TOUCH THE ALPHA. They want the Alpha back all intact. Clint, see if you can't secure another means of transportation.” Grabbing a face mask, he fitted it over his face, and went silent, turning to watch out the windshield as they approached, done giving orders. Tommy waved the van through and directed them up to a house nearby, jumping out.

“So uh, Wanda, I will show you where you will be staying.” He said, as she slipped out, and the back of the van opened to let out Pietro and Soldat, suddenly he started to look worried. “These are your friends and brother?”

“Oh only one of them is my brother.” Wanda said with a smile as Soldat reached for his blade and flung it to land in the unsuspecting wolfs chest. “And it's not him.” Clint got out to, scanning up in the trees.

“Get up high Clint. Any stragglers break for the trees, end them.” With a nod, the archer broke away and went into the trees. “Pietro, start flushing people out.” Soldat started instructing as he reached to grab his blade from the man's chest and wiped it on his shirt till it gleamed again.

Pietro nodded, as he shed his clothes, dropping quickly into a sleek silver wolf, his speed almost making him a blur in the dark as he raced forward, starting his howls. They were sharp and dangerous, warning the pack. Several members stepped out of their homes, clearly having been asleep in the state of their dress when Soldat held up his sniper rifle and started to pick people off, Wanda following along, slamming demands in each of their minds thanks to her powers.

GIVE US THE ALPHA.

Her warnings started crippling families in agony, screaming as the pressed hands against their heads at her mental onslaught. Wanda twisted her hands in the air, snapping open fingers into fists, and people started shifting, their wolves released to scream their pain she inflicted on them instead. Soon the night was filled with horror. Those that managed to escape the trio working through their homes were met with piercing cool blades flying from somewhere in the trees.

Soldat was almost lazy walking along this pack's compound, some memory started to stir in his mind, reminding him of another compound, sunlight shifting through the trees to dapple along a dirt road, a man’s laughter behind him from someone. “Buck, wait up!” Ahead was a sparkling lake and he glanced over his shoulder to see someone running towards him from a distance. He shook his head to dispel these memories.

The White Wolf paced the edges of his consciousness. <Follow your orders Soldat.>

The memory was hazy, and it slipped away from him once more. He snapped his head again to focus on the task at hand.

Back to the present, moonlight was shining bright and highlighting bodies scattered around. Except for one, a woman bolting out of hiding trying to get away from him. Lazily he swung his rifle up and sighted her in, his finger slowly easing against the trigger. For him it was all slow motion, the woman pitched forward with a cry as she fell forward in his path, and he stepped over her as she bled out. Soldat growled in irritation as the Alpha still hadn’t made themselves known.

“Alpha, are you okay with sacrificing your people?” Wanda came up beside him, panting slightly with exertion of the use of her powers, listening. A pained howl came from a nearby home, Pietro pacing around it waiting for the occupants to come out. The door creaked open, and out stumbled a woman, a flare of Soldat’s nose told him exactly what he wanted to know, the Winter Wolf growling in a menacing way at the approaching victim. Finally the packs Alpha was surrendering. She was flanked by a nipping Pietro to speed her jog up, blood streaming down the back of her calves from where she didn’t move fast enough.

“Stop, what do you people want? We have done nothing wrong to the council to warrant a removal like this.” Her eyes were wild as she looked at her packmates, the smell of blood and death so heavy, she heaved a gag.

Wanda looked her up and down, arching a brow. “She's an Alpha? Doesn’t look much like one.”

Soldat’s hand wrapped around the woman's neck, dragging her forward, and inhaling along her face, the tip of his nose dragging up from her chin to her temple, sorting her scent to be sure. A shuddering gasp fell from her, laced with fear. It made Soldat smirk behind the mask. The acrid scent of fear was something he was accustomed to. Beyond the fear though, she was the prime scent of health. This Alpha did not lead her pack on force and strength, but respect and knowledge. He could imagine the battle she was going through with her wolf right now, the conflict to shift showing in her eyes, fear sweat rolling down her temple.

“Where's your mate?” Soldat growled and gave her a slight shake when she sobbed.

“G-gone! She's gone. Visiting her old pack across the country. She won't be back for another month.”

Inhaling again, Soldat sneered, his voice laced with it. “You lie girl. Your efforts to keep her safe, pointless. I can smell her all over you, fresh.” He hissed in her ear and turned to the twins. “Find her. She won’t be far.” They nodded, wolf and sister splitting off towards the Alphas house and she tensed in Soldats grip, starting to fight to break out of his hold.

“What do you want?! Who are you?” she was gulping in air, possibly scenting him, trying to figure out where he came from. Soldats hard eyes went over her once, and did not find her worth answering. Instead his grip tightened around her neck and he whipped her around, her back slamming into his chest and making her gasp in loss of air.

“They are close.” he reached up, taking off the mask and stuffing it away. Her whimpers made his teeth snap at her neck, she might be Alpha of this pack, but she had nothing on him. The Winter Wolf paced, fur bristling as Soldat eyed her steady pulse, resisting the urge to rip at the throbbing vein, killing the Alpha. But he didn't, he had orders. “Can you smell your mates' fear from here? Cause I can.” Instead his tongue lapped up her neck before he tilted his head. “Or maybe that is yours?”

A cry from the woods along with snarling made Soldat straighten and the Alpha tense in his hold, soft “no no no no…” uttered from her and a sob in which Soldat snapped his fingers tighter around her neck to shut her up. Her mate stumbled from the woods, continuously trying to break away, but between Wanda and Pietro, they kept her moving forward. Soldat dropped his hold on the Alpha, letting her spring away to run towards her mate, and drag her into her arms, sobbing into her hair. “I told you to run Alicia, I told you to get away from here.”

“We couldn't, we couldn't just leave you to them Alpha.” Alicia responded, all three of them watching as the Alpha regained her composure a bit, wiping at her face and turned to face Soldat.

“Anything, whatever you want, it's yours. Just let my mate and the rest of the pack leave unharmed. They won't try anything.” Soldat arched a brow, and reached into a pocket on his tactile vest.

“Then you will put this on without any trouble.”

He let a thick silver collar and muzzle fall from his grasp, and the Alpha swallowed hard seeing it. She gave a nod in acceptance and a plea from her mate made the Alpha’s eyes well up with tears, but rounded on her growling at Alicia. “Be quiet, listen to your Mate and Alpha.” Alicia’s begging quieted with a nod, her head bent in submission to her partner. The Alphas hand came up to cup her face in praise, and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead and dipped to her ear, whispering to her for a moment while Alicia’s eyes welled up again and closed as if she was trying to remember the words. Soldat waited patiently, watching this moment between bonded mates without any feelings. All it showed him was a weakness in the Wolves. Their devotion to their mates could always be a weapon he could exploit.

Soon enough the Alpha turned back to Soldat to strip out of her nightgown, quick to shift into her Wolf. Padding over to him, she sat in front of him and lifted her head to fit the collar and muzzle on. It was all so final with the click, binding the muzzle to the collar, completely in Soldats control now as he hooked a chain to her like a lead, wrapping it around his hand and shortening it.

“Kill the rest.” Soldat said and the Alpha at the end of a leash started thrashing as much as allowed, growling in fear and rage, her head straining to look over her shoulder while Soldat dragged her away. Helpless while having to watch Wanda and Pietro round on Alicia, her screams for her Alpha dying out and the smell of her death hit the Alpha. Blood and the sting of fear struck her, and she sank to the ground, losing her trapped mind. Soldat never even noticed her body going limp behind him, and that he was dragging her across the ground while she howled in pain at the severed bond of her now dead mate.

You were sitting behind the wheel of the pickup, Steve on the other side of the hood poking his head around. “Okay, start her up Little One.” he ordered, and you went to flick the key, listening to the whir whir sound of the engine before it sputtered, choked, and gave a mighty shutter, dying down. Turning the key back to off, you leaned yourself out the window.

“Steve… You might have to call it. I don't think there's any saving this one.” Opening the door, you slipped out, landing lightly on your toes, and closing the door shut with a squeak. You could see your mate standing at the front, wiping his hands on a rag, staring down at the engine. Not yet in defeat though. If there was anything you knew about the Mountain Packs Alpha, it was that Steve Rogers did not stop till every last thing had been tried. That meant one thing. He was going to take this engine apart piece by piece if he had to.

You leaned against the side of the truck, looking down in the mess of engine parts, and then back to Steve who spared a glance upwards at you and giving a sigh. “Leave no man behind, or woman in this case. This trucks a girl.” His hand slapped against the side of it affectionately and you snorted, folding your arms over your chest.

“First of all, it's a truck Alpha…” you started.

Steve reached up and slammed the hood down, scoffing. “It's her, and her name is Lenore, and she's not just a truck. I have had her since I was 15.”

“Safe to say this is your first girlfriend then?” You giggled as you tapped your fingers teasing along his arm and skimmed your fingers along the back of his neck, while he wiped his rag lovingly against the hood. Little did he know he had a scuff of dirt on the back of his neck, and it was distracting you now.

Fuck…

The Little Wolf snickered at your reaction. <See something you like?>

Sure as hell do, our Alpha looks fucking good like this.

She yipped in agreement and spun around with excitement.

You pressed your nose in against his shoulder, inhaling deeply while gently sinking your teeth in against his shoulder. Steve growled softly feeling you press against him and looked over his shoulder with an arched brow. “Nah, but she was around with the first girlfriend, and watch me get her fixed to keep her around with my mate.” He pulled you around, his hands circling your hips and easily lifting you to perch on the edge of the truck's hood, making you giggle, and grasp the front of his shirt to pull him in closer. Steves fingers dug into the curves of your hips and pulled you to the edge of the hood.

“Your awful confident Alpha.” you wiggled your brows and leaned forward to nip at his lips. “What makes you think you're that good of a mechanic?”

Steve hummed, his hands slipping under your shirt to dig his fingers into your waist as you wrapped your legs loosely around his hips. “Think you can do better Little One?” he teased back while the tip of your tongue dragged along his bottom lip and he rumbled slightly as you sucked on his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Give me a wrench, I get Lenore running like brand new.” You exclaimed with a wriggle of your brows, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into Steve’s chest. The Alpha laughed, dropping his head to your neck, and rubbing his beard against the column of your neck and kissing over the bonding mark deeply, his tongue tracing the slight scar he had left there that night and letting his teeth sink in enough to make you whimper in a happy way. He tilted back to look at you.

“Little One, I give you a wrench and she will be like new, back before they even put her all together on the manufactures line.”

You scowled at him, and playfully pushed him away from you, which resulted in him backing up and stepping back into you, kissing on your neck as you tipped your head back for him so that his lips could skim the column of your neck, his inhales making you drag your teeth along your bottom lip with a whimper. “I'm a little insulted that you think I would tear Lenore apart.”

Steve lifted his head, and arched his brow at you. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no Alpha, Sams have been teaching me the way around an engine. He said I got the magic touch, and can make them purr.” You stated proudly, and you saw his pupils flare suddenly. You scooted closer and leaned in close to whisper against his lips, your forehead leaning against his. “Is that true Steve, Do I… have the magic touch?”

Your Little Wolf connected on the Alphas bond, the two wolves teased each other back and forth in your minds. You and Steve started nipping at each other's lips, growling as he had you open your mouth to him, and your hands fisted into his hair at the back of his head, rubbing your chest in against him. Steve inhaled your taste and scent, the way you softened under his touch, allowing him to touch you however, and wherever. Fingers flexed, smudging motor grease against your skin and your hands twisted in his dirty shirt to start tugging it off him, pulling away to drag it over his head. Your hips rolled into meeting his groin and he hissed feeling your core rub against his erection “Yes Little One, You certainly do have the magic touch.”

His hand snaked up your top and palmed your breast through your bra till you also lost your shirt, the heavy scent of your arousal drenching your panties along with the stinging mechanics grease tainting his senses. It smelled dirty, and Steve was fucking raging from it.

Wanting to bury his cock in your heat, he pulled back from your embrace and jerked you off the truck's hood twisting you around. Your hands slamming against the hood and Steve grasping the back of your neck to press you against the hood. His thumb feathered back and forth over his mark, your neck arching under his touch. You could feel his hips slotted against yours, and your ass pressed back to grind into his erection. Your ass, firm and soft in those jeans pressing into him made him growl and bite against your shoulder, arching his hips forward to pin you against the grill of the truck.

You groaned when you felt the sting of Steve’s bite against your shoulder and his weight keeping you in place. Steve lifted his head suddenly hearing you, easing back slightly. “Is this okay? Too much?” You could still feel how hard he was behind you, but his voice was laced with gentleness and concern. You arched your head back and took a deep breath.

“Steve Rogers, you have me pinned against Lenore, you better fuck me or else.”

Steve’s concerned look melted with a devious smirk before he moved to suck a spot just behind your ear, his hands slipping to the front of your jeans to snap your button open and wriggle the zipper down.

“Or else… Fuck Little One, that sounds like a promising threat.” Steve growled against your ear, and he tugged your jeans and panties down around your knees, you lifted a leg to kick your pants off, shifting to the other to get rid of your clothing. His hand flexed against your neck before pulling it away.

“Might be in your favor Alpha.” You shifted your legs back and forth to spread them, Steve running a finger through your slick and spreading your folds to stroke you a moment, feeling just how ready you were for him. Licking his lips he could almost taste you as he knew intimately just how good you were.

You panted while your cheek pressed against the truck's cool hood, a contrast to your mate behind you all hot and bothered. “Steve, Fuck. Me.” your voice went muffled as his fingers filled you and you tried to arch in his hold, but he flexed fingers against the back of your neck once more, keeping you still while he took you apart with his fingers. Your velvet walls fluttered around his fingers, and you moaned in pleasure.

“Is that what you wanted Little One?” His chest pressed against your back, making your breathing shallower, your whines sharper with need. “Your soaking me Omega Girl. I gotta be inside you. Cum for me first.” His hips rutted against you and you shuddered underneath him, slamming your hand sharply against the hood of the car while nodding that you heard him. Your cunt made squelching noises and his fingers scissored you open, he kept uttering for you to let go when you finally did, an explosion of pleasure humming through you while you cried out his name, falling apart around his fingers.

Steve raised you off the hood and pulled you up against his chest, kissing on your neck hungrily while your orgasm made you whimper, trying to squeeze your thighs closed around his hand. “Good girl Little One, you are so good to me.” He growled against your ear softly before dragging his tongue to mark his scent on you, he let you lower back to the hood of the truck.

Pulling his hand away from you, he undid his belt and worked his pants open enough to pull out his cock, using his slick covered hand to rub himself. “Hey Little One, are you still with me?”

You nodded as he wrapped his hands around your hips and shifted your ass to where he wanted it while sliding his cock through your slick folds sure to press against your clit before sliding back closer to filling you.

“Fuck Steve…” You exhale and he thrust into you, one fluid motion had your cunt swallowing him, pulling him in to feel you gripping him tightly in a way that made the Alpha growl possessively over your form underneath him, his fingers digging in your hips in a bruising way. Your body shook with the effort and his hand smoothed along your side when he arched his hips to grind into you. “Your so fucking good Little One, I can just stay buried in this sweet pussy all day.”

Pulling back and thrusting to split you open, your chest crushed against the truck's hood, and you wouldn't want to have it any other way while Steve started to rut into you faster, the only thing keeping you in place was Steve's unforgiving hold on your hips and the truck's hard surface. The metal underneath just proved to help Steve punch the air from your lungs. One of his hands slid up your back and moved to grasp your shoulder and pull you back harder, taking angled strokes to make you fall apart around him.

So pretty you were, sprawled against the hood of his truck, doing your best not to scratch at the paint. You were balancing on your tip toes and starting to plead in a muffled tone “Steve- fuck-oh oh- I need to- ah right there.”

Steve pulled back on your shoulder, bringing you up to brace against his back, and wrapping his arm across your midriff. Reaching up to cup and squeeze a breast in his palm while biting your shoulder with a growl made you arch in his hold. You were still raised to your tiptoes, and could feel yourself fluttering around his cock, clenching and aching to find that release.

Aiming for that sweet spot he knew would push you over the edge, his hand covered the front of your mound and rubbed his fingertip in a vigorous circle, making you squirm in his hold. “Don't fight it Little One, you're almost there. Just a little more. You're being so good for your Alpha, taking my cock so good.” He praised and your head fell back against his shoulder, letting him move you now.

“It feels so good, it hurts.” You whined out while reaching down to where his fingers were rubbing at your clit, you explored further down in your heat, until your fingers found the tender spot where his cock pushed into you, feeling him slide in and out made your belly clench at the sensation.

“Do you feel how you made just for me Little One?” Steve grunted while kissing the corner of your mouth till you rolled your head to meet him, both of you biting at each other's lips and easing into a deep hungry kiss.

“Steve, I’m-” You sobbed into his mouth as you fell, and intense pleasure fluttered from your core and spread through your body while your hearing buzzed, and your vision exploded in sparks. He groaned as he rutted into your breaking body, his arms locking around you and his teeth sank into your mark, just making your orgasm explode all over again, tilting your head and crying out in a howl while he filled you with his seed, spreading it through you till he knotted. When he finally stilled with his forehead against your shoulder, you let your head roll forward and took a deep breath to refill your lungs. Your hands dropped to his hands still holding you with a tight grip and let your hands rest over his. Feeling your touch he eased slightly and lifted his head, breathing in against your neck, the expand of his chest with each breath scratched lightly against your back.

Your eyes lifted and you could see the sweaty imprint on the hood of his truck, and then looked down to see grease and dirt smudged all over your skin and your bra, making you chuckle. Steve lifted his head up, careful how he moved behind you while straightening. “Care to share Little One whats got you laughing?”

You tilted your head over your shoulder to look back at him while he loosened his hold. “You got me dirty, and then you got me really dirty.” You emphasized, and he looked over your shoulder to see the streaks against your skin. “We also got Lenore dirty.” You nodded towards your imprint against the hood, and then he finally laughed, his shoulders shaking amused.

“I've never seen Lenore look better Little One.” He muttered while kissing your neck deeply, flexing his hold around you again and you bit your lip giggling while dipping your head back to his shoulder. You two waited till he went soft again and was able to pull out from you. You bent down and picked up scattered clothes to pull them back on while Steve zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt, you grabbed his discarded tee and tossed it to him. While he was picking up the garage with the tools he was using, you happened to check your phone, and noticed a text from Caine.

“Hey how do you feel about going to see Caine and the rest tomorrow morning? If we leave tonight, we don't have any plans, do we?” You ask after reading Caine’s message asking them if they would come visit. Being a fairly new Alpha, learning how to properly set up a pack was a daunting task, especially to that group and he was leaning heavily on Steve’s guidance in that case here and there. Steve wanting to see the young wolf succeed had allowed the bond to form, which was unusual but not unheard of, especially now that the Wolves were depending so much more on pack relationships. He hesitated a moment, but it had been quiet for months since the last attacks from winter.

“Let me get cleaned up Little One and we can head out, haven't been over that way in ages, and would love to see the changes he has made to that place.” Steve came over, reading the text while you held your phone up for him to see, and he nuzzled against his mark, nipping the scar on your neck gently.

You turned in his hold, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him. “Thank you, for making it work Steve.” You said softly to him, hugging him a bit in the process. “They are no longer my pack, but I still have a connection with them.”

You were the other reason Steve kept himself available to the new pack, he knew that you had survived with these wolves, had faced things no wolf should have to, and it in some way reminded him of his time with the howling commandos. No longer were they “family” but in a way they always would just be that. If any of them contacted him still to this day, he would be there for them, that was what happened when you went into a war with someone. And that is partially how he saw your whole ordeal, it was a fight for your life. As important as you were to him and his wolf, his better half, his partner, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you. His hand smoothed along your back and he kissed your forehead. “Always Little One, come on, lets go get ready.”

Once it was established that Sam and Sara would take over while you two were gone, Steve filled up the pickup while you packed a bag for the two of you and were on the road soon enough. Steve easily drove through the night while you either kept him company talking, once in a while falling asleep with your head on his shoulder, snuggling against his side while he would hug you in closer whenever he felt a slight chill run through you. Your wolves remained twined around each other with the bond you now shared, and Steve loved feeling traces of your wolf in his mind.

He thought of a time before you, when the sensation made him cringe. Your wolf fit there, was a warmth that his own Alpha settled into easily, no longer a pacing beast in his mind. Alanna’s wolf was so much more different, the hair on the back of his neck would raise, and the Alphas' own hackles would bristle. The bond they shared was sick from the start, the she wolf would be looking for a fight with the Alpha, who was more then willing to return the favor. There were no playful teasing or quiet grooming moments that the Alpha shared with the Little One.

Steve did back then what he thought was right, trying to make it work when he had impulsively bitten Alanna, but now he could see how wrong it was. What people like Bucky and Natasha had tried pointing out to him for the years he forced it to work. That it could be better. How it could be what he had now. You softly sighing against his shoulder while you two went to help another pack, not fight against them.

As the sun started to rise, Steve couldn't help compare it to his new chapter in his life, stepping from the darkness of his past into the bright promising start of a new one. One he looked forward to.

<It will one day be even better Steve.> The Alpha commented as he groomed the sleeping Little Wolf, nibbling along her neck and shoulders before his pink tongue ran over her fur till it was soft and fluffy.

I don’t know how it can get better, our life is finally calmed down, my mate is settled and happy in her life, and our Pack is strong.

The Alpha just continued his gentle grooming for a few moments before he moved up to stretch, his tail giving a slight wag at the next words he said.

If it happens, it happens.

The Alpha wasn't wrong, Steve did always want a family. Some part was the connection that Wolves always had, packs were nothing more then large family units surviving. But there was more, Steve wanted to give that love to another, and he could see you already, fiercely protective over any children.

The idea of you pregnant stirred some primal things in him, more primal then even the Wolf itself. It was a part of him that wanted it more than anything. But the time would come, where you two would really sit down and discuss it. Feeling you stir under his arm, he was pulled from his thoughts and glanced down. “Morning Little One.” he chuckled watching as you groaned while pushing to sit up more, rubbing at your eyes.

“Ooh, sorry I fell asleep, what time it is Steve, are we almost there?” Your hands rubbed against your face, and you blinked rapidly against the bright light of the new morning sun.

“7 AM, and we're a few miles out still. You want to stop for some breakfast first? I know we will be passing a diner here shortly.” He offered and you perked immediately hearing that.

“God that sounds amazing.” You hummed just as your stomach made the loudest grumble noise, making you both bust out laughing, and Steve stepped on the gas a bit more to make the truck pick up speed.

The diner was one of those little country diners you see in small towns. Along the wall were booths with the little quarter jukeboxes, and in the middle was a long counter scattered with displays of pies and pastries every few stools. When you and Steve first entered, you were first hit with the smell of diner coffee, which you tilted your nose up appreciatively to inhale the aroma, while Steve wrapped an arm around your waist to lead you to a nearby booth. You slipped in first, and Steve just sat next to you, leaving the other side unoccupied.

“Alright kids, what'll it be.” The waitress came around, an older woman with a tall grey beehive style hair-do, a pencil tucked behind her ear which she plucked her fingers against to use, as well as dug for a pad of paper from her apron. You couldn't help smiling at her, as she was just a sight to see, and Steve himself hid a laugh while he filled in with what he wanted. “Eggs, sunny side up, with toast, bacon and sausage. Coffee, black and a side of orange juice.” She was quick to jot it all down, and paused her rapid writing. “And for you sweetheart?” her accent took on a sweet tone, and you filled in with what you wanted.

“Short stack blueberry pancakes, some sausage links, and a glass of milk, and coffee?”

“Sure thing” the waitress was sure to jot it down and leave the two of you alone, Steve’s hand reached under the table and took yours to weave his fingers through yours, giving a light squeeze. It was just a few moments when their waitress came back around with there beverages.

“Cook will be just a few minutes with your food. But here, we made some extras.” She winked as she left a small basket with piping hot donut holes at your table, leaving you two alone again after thanking her. Steve picked up a cinnamon sugared one to pop in his mouth. Lifting the mug to your lips, you blow on the steaming mug and sip on it while your eyes dart out the window to watch other patrons start to arrive.

“I've lived here my whole adult life, and never knew what it looked like outside of the pack boundaries. Pierce hardly let us leave.” You mused and Steve slid a hand along your thigh, squeezing reassuringly before you turned towards him with a warm smile on your face. “I'm glad we came, it will be good to see Caine and everyone else again.”

“He has good makings to be a strong Alpha once he washed the taint Pierce left in this area.” Steve agreed as his arm moved from your thigh to wrap around your shoulder, dipping his head to place a light nuzzle to your temple as you leaned into him. It wasn't long till the waitress was back to drop off the hot plates of breakfast.

Bites were shared between the two of you, you nipped off the tip of Steve's bacon and you offered an extra syrup drenched bite of pancake, where droplets of sweet syrup caught in his beard which he wiped away with his napkin. Before long plates were being pushed away with groans of being too full, Steve dug for his wallet to leave a nice tip to their waitress as well as the bill and headed out of the little diner.

Soon you two were pulling off the highway and along a familiar bumpy road leading deep into the forest, away from the town. You cranked down the window the closer you got, the warm spring air was alive with fresh growth, along with the familiar scents of the pack. Steve started to slow down when the road grew rougher, the truck bouncing on its struts as remnants of mud and snow bogged the road down. You were quick to grasp the ‘oh shit’ handle, noticing streaks of shadows running alongside the road, and howls started announcing their arrival.

It was getting familiar and Steve reached over, sliding his hand with yours to weave his fingers through yours and pull your hand into his lap, his thumb sliding over your knuckle. “You okay Little One?” His gaze tilted towards you, and you smiled at him with a nod.

Your Little Wolf stirred and moved over to her Alpha, brushing up against him once the other packs scent grew stronger the closer they got, reaffirming that she belonged to him now. He curled around her, pressing his muzzle against her while thumping his tail loudly in approval.

<It doesn’t even feel like ‘home’ anymore.> The Little Wolf said softly and you hid a smile hearing her, squeezing Steve’s hand back.

It hasn't been in a while now. It was hard to think it was just about a year, another month and it would have been the first time you met Steve. Bucky allowing you to cross from No Man's Land into the pack boundaries. You could still remember that first time, how Steve went to your level and offered you sanctuary before even actually hearing why you were on the run. And you knew he would do it again with another if the time came. Soon the road curved and you two came up on the all to familiar grey building that had the underground expansion where you were kept. You could hear the Alpha growling softly seeing it, and Steve’s features hardened as he picked up speed driving past it till you two started to come more towards the homes that spread through the grounds. Neither one of you wanted to step foot in there, and did not plan to ever again.

Caine came trotting out to greet them, and you hopped out to rush around the truck, springing at your former packmate in a hug. Steve took his time, although the Wolf didn't much like it, he waited to give you two a moment before intruding. You weaved yourself back into Steve’s hold, grinning happily.

“Driving all night I’m guessing?” Caine asked and you shrugged, jerking a thumb at Steve. “He was, I was the co-pilot. In charge of the radio.”

Steve winked. “And did a good job of it to Little One, you only passed out on me for a couple hours.” He teased while you poked his side a bit for ratting you out and Caine laughed heartily.

“What I figured, since I messaged you last night. The house at the end is vacant for now if you two wanna rest a bit to settle in.” Caine offered, and Steve was thankful for the offer after the long drive. Steve pulled up the truck to the house while you and Caine strolled to the quaint house, talking about how each respective pack were doing. You noticed his eyes lifted to your neck when you lifted your hair off your neck, and his brows arched.

“Is that what I think it is Y/N?” the young Alpha asked and your hand pressed against Steve’s mark, nodding.

“Yes, Steve and I bonded, made it official. It was time to put Pierce and all that behind. It wasn’t natural trying to force us to bond with anyone willing to pay for us.” You stalled a bit, slowing down while watching Steve grab the duffel you had packed from the back of the truck and brought it inside. Caine hummed in agreement, having faced the same ordeal you had. Your Little Wolf stirred in her nearby Alphas' care, feeling your emotions rolling and soon felt her brush along your mind, a calming presence that brought you back to the present. Caine smiled at you, brushing his hand along your back and giving a half hold hug around your shoulder.

“I’m happy for you Y/N, that you found Steve. I mean… well for us to. If you hadn’t gotten away from Pierce, who knows where we would be now.” Caines gaze flashed to the grey building for a second, the heavy chain strapped against the door to keep it shut.

“What are you using that for now?” You asked, noticing where his gaze went. Caine continued the two of you forward.

“Storage, once we cleaned it out. Stark took any of the medical equipment besides the basics we could use for emergencies. All the shit they used on us. After that office was cleaned out, the computers taken, I locked up the underground floors, and we have been using the top as storage for gear and such. Might just seal off that underground and tear that top part down. I don't know honestly. It's like a sickness here still, seeing it. But one day if anything was to happen, it could be useful.”

It was easy to tell that Caine was unsure of what to do with it, and you nudged him lightly to lighten his heaviness. “You will figure it out.” Glancing up, you could see Steve gathering the last of the overnight stuff from the truck, the door snapping shut. “We will see you later, I'm gonna go get some proper shut eye.” Splitting from Caine, you went inside first and Steve chatted a few moments with Caine before excusing himself.

Going inside, it wasn’t home, but it wasn't bad. Sparsely furnished with the minimal comforts, he tilted his nose to inhale, searching you out. You had gone through the downstairs while he was outside from what Steve could sense, but he heard your soft footfalls above him, turning him to go up the old stairs to the tiny upstairs. A single bedroom with a double bed and a bathroom graced the upstairs. Dropping the bag on the end of the bed, he glanced over to you unpacking on the other side.

“Not quite like home.” You observed, while looking around. The bed just about took up the whole bedroom. “But cozy.”

Steve chuckled as he moved around the bed, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing his face in against your neck, nibbling while his hips pressed against your curves and his chest to your back. You sunk back into him while refolding one of his shirts, tilting your head to feel his affections with a close of your eyes and a satisfied hum flowing through you. “Yes cozy, you are gonna have to sleep on top of me in this bed.” You chuckled hearing his teasing, the two of you swaying in the early morning light streaming through the window at the head of the bed.

“That's never been a problem before.” You smirk while feeling Steve laugh softly behind you and you twist to nudge at him. “You're tired, I can feel it. I'm gonna go take a shower, why don't you lay down. We can meet up with Caine this afternoon.” You removed the bag off the bed, and Steve rumbled slightly.

“Shower? I could join you Little One.” His hands moved to lightly grasp your hips, fingers flexing. You shake your head and turn to face Steve, your hands cupping his face and tilt up to place a kiss on his lips, keeping it simple and affectionate.

“You were up early yesterday, because I remember your little wake up.” You smirked at his lopsided grin, all proud of himself for his methods. “And up all night bringing us here.” Your hands pressed against his chest, gently pushing him down on the bed and reaching for your shower bag. “So sleep Alpha, we can mess around later.” You nipped his lips and pulled away, while he groaned, tilting his head back to the mattress while you left the room to go down the short hallway to the bathroom at the end.

“That's teasing Little One.” He growled out as he pushed back to a sit, undoing his belt on his jeans while you called back.

“Make me pay for it later Alpha, learn to take a command once in a while.” You firmly shut the bathroom door on him and the Wolf laughed hard at Steve’s predicament.

You were sidelined too. Steve growled out softly although he knew you were right, his body was tired. The heaviness started to make his eyes ache to close.

<Mmmh, actually no. I can go to my Little Wolf whenever.> The Wolf shook out his fur and padded away from Steve's consciousness, in which the Alpha rolled his eyes at his inner beast and proceeded to strip down to stretch above the comforter.

It wasn't long till Steve felt the bed dip at the end and you crawled over him, settling down to lay your head on his chest, and his hand smoothed against your back to rest against the dip in your lower back. Your face rubbed against one of his pecs and he half turned to give you some more room on the mattress, your legs tangling with his and the rest of the morning was spent in lazy half sleep snores and readjusting in the smaller bed to get comfortable.

Finally the afternoon sun was just too bright shining down on the two of you, spring softness had picked up more heat and was starting to feel hot in the small bedroom. You groaned and pushed off Steve, who growled feeling you move away while waking up further, his arm slinging over his eyes to block out the light. You quietly get dressed and descend down the stairs to let him wake up in his own time. Going through the kitchen, you grab a glass to fill with water to inhale quickly and parch your thirst. Above you, you can hear the bed creak under Steve’s weight, then the slap of his feet against the hardwood boards above you. You start to go through the house and pry open windows, and the front door you opened wide to let the fresh air in.

“Mmh, how late is it?” Steve rubbed at his face and you pulled your phone out.

“3:30, we're gonna be up all night.” You chuckled while checking a message from Sara, complaining that she should have gone with you and Steve, Sam was driving her crazy making you chuckle while answering back. “Sara checked in, said everything is going good at home.”

Steve as well sought out some water, draining the glass with deep gulps, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his arm and nodded. “I’m sure we can find something to do tonight.” He winked in a tease. “Good, how about we go see the rest of the pack?” His hand went through his hair, pushing the longer dark blonde locks back from his face, looking every bit of Alpha that he was. You could have whimpered right then, sure he wasn't even aware of how it made your stomach clench. You were just grateful that the Little Wolf was preoccupied with her mate to be paying attention to your reactions.

“We better, I’m sure he's forgotten were here.” You move to step out the door, blinking in the bright afternoon sunshine, bouncing off the steps with Steve right behind you.

“Unlikely, his wolf won't be letting him forget I’m here.”

#attack of the winter wolf #winter soldier #winter wolf #alpha steve #amber writes #sweater writes #steve rogers au #bucky barnes au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #shifter steve rogers #shifter bucky barnes #marvel fanfic #marvel au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

302 notes · View notes

maddieinwonder · 3 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #7: False Start

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Just a lot of awkward vibes hahaha

Word Count: 1.7k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they try to confess their feelings.

A/N: I didn’t actually manage to include the definition of a False Start in the chapter itself, so I’ll add it at the end. No spoilers for now!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

-----------

It took you 24 hours to decide that you were going to do something about your feelings for the good doctor. Pretty quick, considering you were a living, breathing rom-com cynic. But as ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, once said: "The only constant in life is change".

Specifically, change happened after you woke up in your cute co-worker and dear friend's arms and you wanted nothing more than to get back into them as fast as possible.

But by the universal laws of working in the BAU, catching a break seemed to be the hardest when you actually wanted one.

Firstly, it was like every serial killer in the country decided to cancel their vacations simultaneously, swamping the team with urgent case after case. At this point, you were more familiar with the couch on the jet than your bed at home, and everyone was feeling the strain.

Secondly, if you weren't sleeping, you were usually out in the field chasing unsubs with Derek or Rossi. You had stopped holding out hope for being paired with Spencer �� on account of your areas of specialty overlapping too much, and Hotch not being the type of leader to waste his resources — and as a result:

Thirdly, getting even ten minutes alone with the genius became an impossible task, and not for lack of trying either. At the start of the month, the two of you had tried to adapt your breakfast ritual to the road, but it always got interrupted mid-coffee order or even at the ding of the lift. Not that you and Spencer stopped trying, no, but your patience was wearing thin.

So you did something you hadn't done since you submitted your application to join the BAU — you prayed for a chance.

Because every day that you didn't admit your feelings to the doctor was another day fighting the compulsion to tell somebody else about them, and god only knows what a room full of profilers (and one nosy tech analyst) would do with that kind of information.

Then, out of the blue, the door of opportunity opened.

After two weeks of straight travel, the team had earned a well-deserved one night’s rest in your own beds before dealing with a local case, bright and early tomorrow morning. And since your flight landed at 2am and all the trains had stopped by then, this gave you the perfect shot to execute your plan.

Unfortunately, you forgot to take into account the most important factor — your nerves.

It didn't help that Derek had wolf-whistled in the carpark as the two of you walked off in the same direction, nor that Spencer immediately put your favourite album into the CD player out of instinct; an overly domestic action that made your heart beat even faster.

But it was when you arrived in front of his apartment building that you felt the worst of it. As you tried to summon the right words to your lips, your heart hammered in your chest and your thoughts jumbled themselves into nonsense.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, snapping you out of your anxious spiral instantly. "You don't look so well."

"I-I'm fine." Your fingers twitched nervously.

"Doesn't seem like it." He looked down at your hands, and you cursed your subconscious brain for giving you away. Then, he placed a hand over yours and your heart stopped.

"You're not alright, that's for sure, but it seems like it's just sleep deprivation." He assessed, bending slightly to look at your face. "You can't drive in this state. Do you want to come in?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, ready to protest, but Spencer beat you to it. "Let’s go. You wanted to talk about something, right?" He called out, already one foot out of the car.

Before you could realise what was happening, you found yourself sitting on Spencer's couch holding a warm cup of tea.

This was the first time you were in his apartment. Yet, it was exactly what you thought it'd be like. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, filled to max capacity with books of every topic imaginable from neuroscience to philosophy. Those that didn't make it to the shelves were found in random stacks around his apartment, standing out against his forest green walls.

"Did you know that chamomile tea is a natural remedy for insomnia? In fact, it is commonly regarded as a mild tranquilizer. It's calming effects may be attributed to the antioxidant apigenin, which binds to specific receptors in your brain that initiate sleep and reduce anxiety." He explained, walking over with his own mug.

"I actually did know that." You smiled. The tea seemed to work its magic because you did feel relaxed, and you must have looked it too, because the worried frown disappeared off Spencer's face.

"Didn't know you were a tea person." You commented lightly, blowing the steam from your mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He replied mysteriously, and you raised your eyebrows.

Spencer's apartment was too quiet, no rumbling fridge or quiet radio playing in the background to make your awkward silence any less pronounced. It was then that you noticed he didn't have a TV. Somehow this fact didn't surprise you very much.

"You... you wanted to talk to me about something?" He broke the silence, looking down at the hot tea swirling in his mug.

Right. You were here to talk about your feelings. Your face flushed as you tried to summon your willpower, again.

"I wanted to tell you something—" You began shakily. "But before that, I just want to preface, we can ignore this entire thing if you don't agree. I mean, I really enjoy our friendship as it is, and I wouldn't want to do anything to affect tha—"

"Wait." Spencer interrupted urgently, before catching himself. "Sorry, um, before that, can I say something?"

"Um, ok, shoot." You replied meekly, trying to hide your relief behind a long sip of tea. There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts, and you might have been seeing things, but he looked almost... nervous?

"The day we met, I calculated the probability of meeting somebody that shared my exact coffee order and the result was almost one in a million.” He finally spoke, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That probability decreased when I factored in working together, sharing the same interests, and... and how I enjoyed spending time with you more than with anybody else."

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush coming onto his cheeks.

"Ever since then... my life just started making sense. I know I’m a scientist, not a poet, and I could tell you all the statistics about relationships in the world, but when it comes to you...”

His cheeks were crimson now, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling yours looked the same.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that I think you're beautiful and smart, and I have no idea what you see in me, but I'd really—"

Suddenly, both your phones buzzed violently against his coffee table, jolting you out of the moment. You leaned over in a trained motion, only to see exactly what you expected:

Garcia: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

Penny: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

You let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding, and Spencer looked over at you, doe-eyed and nervous.

“The case?" He asked quietly.

There was a silence filled with words unsaid. "We should go." He said finally. "If we leave now, we can still make it on time."

You only nodded in response, more out of duty than desire, and gulped down the rest of your tea. The thought of what he was about to say burned down your throat.

Driving away from Spencer’s apartment was torturous. The doctor hadn’t said anything to you since he entered the car, only fiddling with his bag as he looked out the window. It was too dark to read his expression, but you wondered if he could still hear the way he called you “beautiful”, or whether the moment had already dissolved into the space between you.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Spencer tugged on your sleeve before you exited the carpark, his face scrunched in worry.

"I really didn't mean for that to be so... weird. Can we talk about this again after the case?" He asked softly, and despite every semblance of logic left in your brain, you couldn’t stop the hope from blooming in your chest and you smiled.

That was when Spencer did something completely uncharacteristic. (You didn't know this at the time, but it was something that you would tease him about for a long time after.)

In one fluid movement, the doctor pulled you into a tight hug that elicited a squeak from you, but it only took a second for the initial shock to wear off before you relaxed completely into his warm touch. He took that as a sign to continue, burying his head into your shoulder and letting out a content sigh.

Unlike waking up to your bodies intertwined, nothing about this was a mistake. Not the way his fingers stroked your back peacefully, nor the way his curly hair tickled your cheek. You felt the stress of the past two weeks melt away in his embrace, and so did any coherent thought, except one: normal friends didn't hug each other like this.

Later when the two of you finally entered the conference room, miraculously still on time, nobody commented on the smiles plastered on your faces but everybody could tell. They were profilers after all.

But for the first time in awhile, you were just too happy to care.

-----------

Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @mellowalieneggsknight || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

Definition of a False Start here

186 notes · View notes

astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter nineteen - “tomorrow”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.8k

synopsis: reader is faced with a very distressing ultimatum and has to deal with the consequences.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

authors note: omg pls listen to “water under the bridge” by adele after reading this it’s fits so well

Muted. She felt muted - but not necessarily in a bad way. Everything in her was dialed down and dulled. Over the last couple days, Y/N had toned down her emotions, feeling less. Call it a coping skill. Call it a stress response. Whatever. It wasn't like she was sad about it. In a way, in was comforting - not having some overwhelming internal angst.

It had been a week since that fight she and Bucky got into. The mature part of her was telling her to find him and talk it out like the adults they were. But here's the thing. Over time, before they even had the fight, the number of therapy sessions they were having was less frequent as his treatment was improving. The sessions were more intermittent now, and there wasn't one scheduled for a while. Until then, she felt no desire to talk to him.

Was she mad? Sad? She wasn't sure. She just avoided thinking of things that caused her a considerable amount of distress. At this particular moment in time, Bucky was one of those things. Ergo, she made a constant effort to ignore all thoughts of him.

Though, she somehow couldn't entirely ignore the ever present lack of... Bucky. She had gotten so used to having him close by, used to having someone to talk to, laugh with. His proximity had become a constant. A comfort. She refused to admit to herself that silence didn't feel like silence anymore; it just felt like the absence of his voice.

She found she needed to keep herself busy.

Bucky handled it a bit differently. He had lots of intense emotions but he didn't mute them, per say. He didn't ignore them. He felt them, he definitely felt them. He just kept them bottled up inside and talked about it to no one. It was a very strange change of routine. Whenever he had some sort of emotional turmoil, he would always go to her - therapy session or not - to vent, rant, ask for advice, or just talk through a stream of consciousness. Now he just had to sit with it.

He spent most of his time alone. He missed her.

"Hey Shuri," Y/N greeted as she entered the princess' lab.

"Hello," Shuri smiled. "Come sit."

This wasn't a routine visit. Shuri mentioned wanting to talk about something else this time. Something important. She was reminded of this when she walked in to find two Doras sitting with Shuri at a lab table.

"So," Shuri started, "The trigger word experiment. We're here to discuss safety and security."

Shit. That awful thing. It had slipped her mind these past couple days.

"Alright. What are we thinkin'?"

"Well, the Doras don't think it would be necessary to have two of them there with you, but if you would feel safer with two, then that's fine as well."

"I think one is fine. I trust your judgment," Y/N nodded to the Doras.

And I'm not afraid of Bucky, she thought but didn't say.

"We also have a special location to run the experiment," one of the Doras, Ayo, added. "Away from people and secluded in the case of an emergency."

"Okay. That sounds good."

"We understand Barnes is now equipped with the vibranium arm, yes?" Shuri asked.

"Yes, he is."

"Then you need to know something for the experiment."

Y/N's brows furrowed, confused. Was she missing something?

"There's sort of a fail safe built into the arm," Shuri began.

Fail safe?

"There are a series of pressure points when, if hit correctly, will disengage the arm. It will just drop to the ground. So if anything were to happen-"

"I'm sorry, what?"

The expression on Shuri's face changed immediately when she heard her partner's tone. Y/N looked bewildered and almost in disbelief.

"It's there as a precaution in case Barnes needs to be put in check."

Suddenly, every emotion she had been "muting" rushed back into her head. Every feeling for Bucky returned, as well as her compulsion to protect him.

"Building that into the arm shows a complete lack of trust."

"You know what HYDRA did. It's unpredictable, and I'm sorry but we just can't be sure."

"We need to be careful with this so it doesn't blow up in our faces," Ayo said.

"I understand having that precaution for this test, I do. But it isn't just this test. Given it was successful and everything worked out, he was supposed to keep the arm. Right?"

"Right."

"So we fix the HYDRA programming and he's free, but leave the 'fail safe' in so after all of this, he still has someone in control of him."

"The arm is a gift," Ayo stated. "He should be happy he has it at all."

"I understand that, and believe me, he is so grateful. But a gift is for someone else to keep and use as their own. How are we supposed to help him and work with him for months, building trust and aiding him in healing to just tarnish all of that with deception?"

"It's what's best for the protection of all."

"Even after the experiment if it's successful?" Y/N cried in disbelief. "I should say when it's successful. Shuri, I've been seeing his progress for months and working with you on his neurobiology data. Can't you tell how much skill has been put into this? It's us. It's going to work."

"Even still."

"I can't stand for that. I would understand if it was just for this test, but after? We haven't come this far just to not trust our own work and Bucky's deprogramming. He deserves to have someone on his side."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's already been done. The arm is already built and being used."

"This is the plan," Ayo declared. "Either you are on board, or you are free to leave Wakanda. We can fly you out as soon as tomorrow morning."

"I can't knowingly be a part of this. It's wrong."

"As I said. Free to leave."

She refused to be a willing participant in perpetuating the loss of Bucky's autonomy. He's been through enough, had enough taken from him. She would not play a single role in taking more away.

"I guess I have to go then," she said, standing from her chair.

She couldn't believe the words coming from her own mouth.

Shuri sighed. "That's very unfortunate, my partner. I'm sorry we couldn't agree on this."

"I am, too. But please. Please consider what this will do to him. It's like saying 'even though we've all been working with you, we don't actually believe that you're not still a weapon.' What is he supposed to think of that?"

"Barnes isn't going to have to think anything about it..."

"...because he isn't going to know," Ayo finished the thought.

"No..."

"It's the way it has to be."

"No it's not."

"Y/N..."

She took a couple steps back, preparing to leave the room. "No, I'm sorry. I can't. He needs to know. I'm going to have to tell him."

"I'd advise against it if you care about your job," called an unfamiliar voice.

Y/N turned to the other Dora, whom she didn't know.

"What?"

"What would your employers think if they knew their doctor had certain... inappropriate relations with a patient? And a very infamous one at that."

She froze, face burning. Her stomach dropped and her breathing stopped dead.

Did they-? Who else-? How did they-? What did they-?

She couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"You are more than free to leave quietly, without any worries" said the Dora, "but if Barnes knows about this, you can be sure that the rest of the world will know about you and your... relations."

It was then when she could feel almost every piece of her world come crashing down. She could feel every test she took, every research project she was a part of, every hour she spent studying for the career that took years to build. The thing she was most proud in this world, the part of herself she most loved. She felt the job she loved and all the things she had learned and accomplished begin to crumble around her.

This career... it was her life. It was her passion. It was all she had. Now she was in immediate danger of losing it. All she could process was fear; she shut down.

Finally, she managed words.

"Okay," she conceded, her defeated voice barely above a whisper. "I'll go... quietly. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned around and took the remaining steps out of the now silent room.

- - -

When she was in the hallway, she felt like she was dying. The guilt was overwhelming. How could she betray him like this? She tried to fight for Bucky to get the truth and now she has to hide it from him and leave him. She has to lie to him.

Y/N was still in shock, completely immersed in her own fear. It felt as if she wasn't in her body. She knew she was moving - walking down the hallway. But her body was just on autopilot; she was gone.

She couldn't tell if she was crying but she could feel a twinging in her eyes and a burning in her nose. She was also hardly breathing so if she was crying, it was nearly silent.

In a faraway echo, she thought she heard her own footsteps. She wasn't sure where they were taking her, but she wasn't sure if she cared.

She walked, and she kept on walking for a long time. She could feel the ache in her feet once she sat down in front of the water. She hadn't planned to go to the waterfall - that waterfall... their waterfall. It just sort of happened. Perhaps it was a long enough distance away to feel safe.

She finally let herself think for a moment.

What the fuck had just happened? Her exact fears had come to be. Somehow, someone saw or figured out her and Bucky. It felt worse than she thought it would. Exposed. Embarrassed. Guilty. Humiliated. Distressed.

It was numbing. So numbing that she stared at the little pool and let the white noise of the waterfall clog her ears until she was able to lose track of time.

She had no idea how long it had been when he approached her.

"Y/N!" Bucky's voice called as he jogged over after catching sight of her. "I've been looking for you! Can we please talk?"

His voice snapped her out of it, but her gaze remained fixed on the water in front of her. She wasn't sure what to do, how to engage with him; she froze.

When she didn't even turn her head, Bucky guessed she was still upset with him. He didn't want to be a bother, but he needed to talk to her. He sat down right next to her.

"Okay..." he started, carefully. "I know things aren't great between us right now, but-"

She turned her head to him and the words died in his throat when he saw her face: bloodshot, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He forgot whatever he was going to say, cupping both sides of her face.

"Oh my god, what happened!? A-Are you alright?"

The cool metal of his hand on her cheek made her want to scream, reminding her of what she could not tell him. Reminding her of the searing guilt. Trembling hands reached up to touch his arms. And then he saw the quiver in her lip.

"Oh, honey," he cooed, worried. "Hey... Hey, talk to me. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

He was so concerned and so sweet even after they had a huge blowout. If possible, it made her feel even worse. She didn't deserve his kindness anymore. She just stared into him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.

Bucky had never seen her like this and he was scared. Was it because of him and their fight? He supposed so. What else could it have been?

"I'm so sorry, please don't cry," he caressed the back of her head with one hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said, I was just mad. You were right. I feel awful, I had no idea it upset you this much."

Their fight was the very last thing on her mind. Looking back on it, it seemed like such a trivial thing compared to now. But he thought this was his fault. She wanted to break into a million tiny pieces and let the wind blow her away.

She shook her head. "Bucky, no. It's not that. It's not you."

He looked so confused. She felt so bad.

"Then what... what's wrong?"

"I'm leaving."

Bucky leaned back, perplexed, and his hands slid down to rest on her forearms. "Leaving? You're leaving Wakanda?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, hey- You don't have to leave. We can figure something out. We were too risky, you were right. I understand that now. We don't have to do that anymore. We can make sure that we're always completely in private from here on out."

She shook her head, staring down at the grass below her. "I'm sorry, I can't... I can't do that. I have to leave."

She could barely look him in the face.

"You don't, it's okay," he implored. "I know it worried you, but it really only was Steve. And I know, I know it could have been anyone and I get that. I thought about it, and I get it. We don't ever have to... sleep together... again. We won't be distracted, and-and we'll be careful."

She clenched her eyes shut, trying not to let her burning eyes release more tears. It didn't work.

"Bucky..."

"Baby doll please," his voice cracked while he tipped her chin up to meet her eyes again. "We can just-... we can just go back to the way it was before. In the very beginning. We can- we'll only see each other in sessions, we don't-... No more lake trips or all-nighters or anything just-"

He sharply inhaled, beginning to ramble as his breath became unsteady.

His voice shook just slightly. "You can barely even talk to me if you don't want to- just please don't go..."

She thought a part of her cracked and died at that moment. She sprung forward and held him as tight as she could. Instinctively one of Bucky's arms was around her back and the other cradled the back of her head.

She thought maybe if she held tight enough, she could keep them together and she wouldn't have to leave him there alone. Of course he would be fine, but he would spend the rest of his time feeling like it was his fault that she had gone.

She couldn't let him think this was his fault.

"Buck, I don't wanna leave you. But I have to do what's best for the both of us. You'll be just fine without me. I promise."

He didn't think so.

"I'm putting your treatment and my career in jeopardy if I stay," she continued. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to either of us. I'm sorry if you hate this and I'm sorry if you hate me for doing it."

He mumbled something in the crook of her neck, but she couldn't hear it. She pulled back from the embrace.

"What?"

"I could never hate you."

Despite the fact that she was so internally distraught, despite what happened with Shuri and the Doras, with having to tell Bucky she was going to leave him, with having to watch him beg her to stay, despite the extreme dread and guilt within her, she still looked at him and felt so much love.

She was doing the very thing he feared and all he could do was care for her.

"God, I'm gonna miss you," she breathed before grasping his jaw, and pulling his head to hers.

Bucky tasted salt and he couldn't tell if it was his or her tears mixing into their lips.

As much as he wanted her to stay, he could sense how serious she was about this. He wouldn't be able to convince her to stay even if he tried. And he already did.

He could only soak up as much of her as he could before she left, and be with her until she had to go. He had no idea how much time he had. Wait-

"When are you leaving?" he broke the kiss as soon as the thought arose.

She was silent for a moment when another tear dripped down her face. "Tomorrow."

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree @undiadeestos

93 notes · View notes

theother9tenths · 3 years

Text

Felix/Sylvain first kiss prompt that no one asked for but that I wrote today at work cos????

——————

“You ever kissed another man?”

Sylvain had to sputter to prevent the oncoming choke, yanking the flask away from his mouth.

The ball had been a horrid affair so far. It seemed that, despite upward of 90 minutes spent circulating the dance floor, not a single woman in Garreg Mach was interested in dancing with him. Sylvain was well aware of his “reputation” but he considered it a bit out of hand when literal strangers were rejecting him. The ladies had all formed some secret Anti-Sylvain coalition, bent on denying him the touch of any woman this side of Fherdiad. Upon this realization, Sylvain had sulked in a corner until Felix appeared with the flask he was holding now and the two of them had been sharing contraband whiskey for the past two hours, Sylvain wallowing in self-pity for his neglected libido.

Felix, for his part, had seemed his usual disinterested self all evening. Sylvain was honestly surprised he had decided to show up at all, let alone seek him out to share the oaken whiskey he had picked up in town until they were both red-faced and whispering in their mostly empty corner of the ballroom, observing the dancers through the lens of alcohol.

“Uhhh…. I mean… yeah, I have,” Sylvain tried his best to read Felix’s face, but Felix wasn’t even looking at him, glazed eyes staring vaguely off toward the array of spinning bodies under the chandeliers as though the image bothered him somehow.

“What’s that like?” Felix snatched the flask out of Sylvain’s hand without looking, downing another gulp as his gaze didn’t break from the dance floor.

Sylvain had no idea where any of this was coming from. “Uhhh… fine?” Felix didn’t have a reaction to that, so Sylvain followed his compulsion to fill the silence. “I mean, it’s not better or worse than kissing girls, just different. Honestly it seems like every woman in Fodland has been ‘warned’ about me so I might be doing it more often in the coming months.”

“Have you ever considered not kissing anyone like a normal person?” mumbled Felix in his typical grumpy fashion before thrusting the flask back toward Sylvain.

“That’s not ‘normal’ man, that’s stifled.” Sylvain took another swig and grimaced as the liquid burned his throat. He had drunk more than he meant to. Oh well. Nonchalant and tingling slightly, Sylvain decided to use his patented method of pressing forward until pushed back. “What about you?” he asked, his full attention now on Felix. “Have you ever kissed another man?”

“If I had, why would I have asked you what it’s like?” Felix snapped, snatching away the flask again. “You’re cut off. You’re asking drunk stupid questions and I can only stand your Sober Amount of those.”

“Hey, man, I don’t know your life,” Sylvain slumped back in his chair, head spinning slightly. Maybe Felix was correct to cut him off. This was stupid. What was the point of getting all dressed up and putting in effort if no one wanted to touch him? In his subconscious, he was aware that his playboy personality was just a character, but had he really made that many people upset with him? He found himself resenting the whole thing: the love that people had for his crest, the desire of every woman he came across to bear his children, and their disgust with him for taking advantage of that situation. As he stared up at the ornate ceiling of the grand hall, he suddenly felt stupid and alone.

No one has ever or will ever truly care for you.

Goddess damn it. That voice again. Sylvain knew when to quit an evening while he was ahead. Slinging himself forward, he stood up, catching himself on the table when he swayed slightly.

“Where are you going?” Felix bit, still not looking at him.

Sylvain groaned dismally. “It’s hot in here and this party is stupid. I’m going back to my room and going to bed. Thanks for the whiskey.” Sylvain took a step, swayed slightly, steeled himself, and walked deliberately out of the ball room.

Out in the courtyard, Sylvain breathed in the cooler night air. He paused for a moment to look up at the sky, the moon mocking him with its stoicism. With a huff, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and began trudging back toward the dormitories, now not bothering to cover up the drunken overzealousness of his footfalls.

But his walk was soon interrupted as he rounded a corner and caught a flash of blue hair. Ducking behind a pillar, he was able to get a closer look: in the shadow of the tower, he saw his professor speaking with Dimitri. Sylvain couldn’t make out their words, the two speaking in hushed tones, but Sylvain knew the body language of Dimitri’s nervous laughter, his arm reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Sylvain couldn’t make out a blush on his face, but he was almost certain it was there.

“Oh you idiot,” Sylvain whispered as he watched the two of them walk back toward the dance hall.

“What are you doing?”

Sylvain jumped with a yelp, the words having come from right next to his ear. He whipped around, his arm swinging wildly. Felix dodged it easily.

“Hey!” he barked. “Watch who you’re punching!”

“Why’d you follow me?”

Felix smirked, downing what was clearly the last of whiskey before answering. “You were right,” he said, wiping his mouth. “The party was boring. Didn’t expect to catch up with you so quickly, though. What were you even doing?”

“Eavesdropping, what does it look like?” Sylvain huffed.

Felix’s laugh was biting “On the Boar making puppy dog eyes at our professor?” he said haughtily. His voice was unwavering, but Sylvain didn’t miss the red on his cheeks or the looseness in his stance. They had split the flask fairly evenly, after all. “Old news.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Old news? I haven’t noticed it before!” Sylvain peeked back around the pillar, worried that their loud voices may have drawn attention. To his relief, the pair had disappeared behind the dining hall. He turned back to Felix. “How long has that been going on? He knows how focused on her work she is, right? Seems pretty fruitless to me.”

Felix’s eyes were full of ire. “Now you’re boring me,” he stated plainly before grabbing the front of Sylvain’s shirt, shoving him against the pillar, and kissing him fiercely.

Sylvain’s mind went blank for a long moment, surprise running through him like an electric shock. His flabbergasted awareness extended outside of himself, unable to process what was happening, his brain full of white noise. He felt as though he were looking upon himself from the outside, and noticed from that viewpoint that he had started kissing Felix back.

Sylvain hadn’t been lying when he said he’d kissed men before. It was different than kissing women. Women tended to be soft and pliant, with definite exceptions, whereas men always kissed like they had a hidden agenda, like the moment you let them within a foot of you, they’re already five steps ahead.

This was different. Felix kissed like he fought: like he had something to prove.

After several long moments, Felix finally released him. In his drunken, dopamine-flushed stupor, Sylvain noticed that his lips were slightly swollen.

Questions flew like a flock of pegasus in Sylvain’s head, chief among them “what the hell, man?” but the sentence he spoke, smirk spreading across his face was, “...still bored?”

This did not have the desired effect. Felix shoved him away, letting go of his shirt, and began to stomp off. “Go to bed, Sylvain!” he barked over his shoulder.

“Wait!” Sylvain teased, smile wide, bad mood forgotten as he chased Felix back toward the dormitories. “Now you’ve kissed a man, you have to tell me how it was!”

“Shut up!”

#sylvix #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #felix x sylvain #my writing #stories

60 notes · View notes

harmonizingsunsets · 3 years

Text

I'd Rather Go Blind & Let My Body Go Numb Than To Lose You Or The Weight Of Your Love

Prompt: Jealousy and all its cousins. Fanart Credit here.

Read on Archive here.

Anthony never thought he'd be the kind of husband who needs to know where his wife is at every moment of every day.

(To be fair, he never thought about being a husband much at all until the season he'd pursued Edwina only to fall maddeningly in love with Kate).

But here he is, sitting on the couch with his feet drumming loudly against the floor, staring intensely at the door.

On the table beside the couch sits a cup of tea, cold and untouched. Anthony had someone from the kitchens prepare it for him, but his nerves made him unable to stomach anything.

Anthony looks a mess. He'd been raking his hands through his hair for the past two hours. He'd also slapped his cheeks once or twice to stay awake.

His jacket lay discarded and wrinkled on the ground near the door. He feels guilty, knowing one of the maids would have to press it. However, he can't gather the desire to move from the couch and retrieve it.

Instead, he's glued to the couch as he considers where Kate is. A hundred different scenarios run through his mind—each scenario worse than the last.

For the past month, Kate has been disappearing at night. He hears her footsteps tiptoeing past his study when he stays up to work. He feels the weight from her side of the bed lessen as she stands and departs from their bedroom when she thinks he's fallen asleep.

At first, Anthony questioned her about it. Kate would always make up an excuse about needing fresh air or going to see Edwina. But he knows her well enough to know when she's lying.

However, Anthony hadn't ever called Kate out on her deceit. He feared the truth, especially how it might crush him to hear it.

But he couldn't take the not knowing anymore. So when he heard the door close after Kate told him five minutes prior that she was retiring to bed, he made his way towards the front of the house. Anthony watched at the window as a carriage rode away. A hole had formed in his stomach, making him feel hollow. He then sat down on the couch so he could catch her when she returned.

Finally, after what felt like ages passed, he hears footsteps approaching the door. He quickly jumps up from the couch and makes his way to the foyer. When Kate steps through the door, her eyes widen.

"Anthony!" she exclaims in surprise, putting a hand to her chest to steady her breath. "You're up late."

"So are you," Anthony says, crossing his arms and blocking her way.

"I was only walking around to get some fresh air."

Anthony raises a brow. "Really, for two hours?"

Her eyes shift anxiously from his stare. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes," he answers through gritted teeth, anger rising within him.

"Oh well, it was such a lovely night the time got away from me." Kate stands on her toes, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "Sorry for worrying you."

As she tries to retreat, Anthony's hand lurches out to grab her elbow, pulling her back to face him.

"I've had enough, Kate," he sighs tiredly. "Where were you?"

"I just told you, I was—."

"You've been going out for fresh air at odd hours of the day for the past month. You'd think you'd have your fill by now."

Kate fidgets. "Well, it hasn't just been out to get fresh air. I've been attending engagements. I have a life outside you and this household, you know."

"Oh, I know that, but your engagements don't usually take place after dark and don't require you sneaking out of the house to attend."

"Darling, everything is fine," Kate says, pulling her arm out of his reach and giving him a nervous smile. "You've probably been working too hard. Let's go to bed."

As she tries to walk away again, Anthony pulls her back. But this time, he holds onto both of her arms, forcing her to meet his eye.

"Kate, I know you—perhaps more than you know yourself, and I know when you're lying to me," he says, his voice turning softer—more fragile. It's as if he's a vase that could shatter at any moment. "What I don't know is why."

"I promise that what I have been going out and doing is not anything scandalous or dangerous." After letting out a long breath, a laugh bubbles from her throat in amusement. "Honestly, where I've been going to is nothing to fret over. You're acting as if I'm having an affair or something."

Anthony's heart sinks in his chest. No matter how ridiculous the prospect sounds, he can't help but whisper the question that's been plaguing his mind these past few weeks.

"Are you?"

Kate's mouth falls open, her face paling. "Anthony, how could you think that?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," he says, stepping away from her and beginning to pace. "It explains why you've been coming back so late and being so evasive these past few weeks."

"Anthony—."

His legs go weak at the affection in her voice. Anthony falls to his knees in front of her and takes hold of her hands.

"Just tell me, Kate, I cannot bear it," Anthony says, hating the way his voice wavers. "I cannot bear the thought of you finding pleasure in someone else's arms. I cannot bear you leaving our bed because you'd rather be in another's. I cannot bear the idea of someone else touching you, loving you, or kissing you."

He brushes his lips against Kate's knuckles, causing her breath to hitch. Anthony pulls his lips away, but just so his fingertips can swirl circles on her palm. When his thumb skims over her pulse, he feels her heartbeat quicken.

"Most of all, I cannot bear the thought of you loving someone else." Anthony swallows thickly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "I'd die right now if you told me all of this was true."

Anthony has always feared time. He used to compulsively reach into his pocket to grasp his father's watch. Each time a hand on the clock ticked forward, he felt as if an ounce of his soul got sucked away.

But since Kate came into his life, that fear has dissipated. Suddenly, he didn't spend each moment of his life calculating how much time he had left. Instead, Anthony began counting things other than seconds.

He counts the number of Kate's smiles. He counts the number of laughs they share next to one another at the table surrounded by his family. Anthony counts the number of kisses that were slow, stirring an aching feeling in his chest. He also counts each hungry and passionate kiss that sets every inch of his skin aflame.

Most of all, Anthony counts how many times he's lost count around her. He gets lost in the timeless and wonderful enigma that is Kate Sharma.

Anthony feels that fear of time creeping up on him again. But now, he's not afraid of time passing and leading to his demise. Instead, he's terrified that Kate's time of loving him has run out. Maybe, she's found a more deserving man to spend the minutes with than him.

When Anthony braves a glance up at Kate, he expects to see pity. But instead, he's surprised to see an entirely different emotion reflected in her eyes.

Love.

Pure, unconditional, steadfast love.

Kate gets down to her knees in front of him. But she doesn't let go of his hands, holding them tighter.

"None of that is true, Anthony," she says firmly. "I love you, have only loved you, and will only love you."

Her words release a breath of relief from him. But, he still can't help doubting this, not knowing how else to explain her odd disappearances.

Kate must sense his train of thoughts. She smiles gently, moving one of her hands up to graze his cheek.

"I love you so much that I've been waking up in the middle of the night so I can give you the perfect present."

Anthony blinks in confusion, feeling the room that had been spinning become still.

"What?"

Kate laughs, and she rests her forehead against his. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

It hits Anthony like a whip. All the clues that he'd gathered up to form a horrible conclusion were, in fact, clues that lead to a more justifiable and pleasant one.

"Our anniversary," he answers dumbly.

"Yes," she nods, her face beaming with a giddy kind of delight. Anthony feels lucky that he gets to see it. Her expressions are free without restraint only when she's comfortable with someone. He's glad to be one of those treasured few. "We've made it a year, can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday, I was stepping on your toes at a ball, and you acted like a madman when I got stung by a bee."

Anthony frowns, his forehead creasing. "I did not act like a madman."

"You did, but it led us to where we are now," Kate says, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Married and happy."

"I'd like to think it would've happened with the bee or not."

"I'm not sure. You were quite thick-headed about how in love with me you were."

"Oh, I'm the thick-headed one?" he scoffs. "After the night you fell in love with me, you gave your approval for me to marry your sister. How thick-headed is that?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me," Kate defends, rolling her eyes. "But I know very well now that you do. You show me with every kind word, every touch, every…" her words drift, cheeks reddening, "Well, you know."

Anthony smirks. "No, I do not know. Please elaborate on everything I do to you that gives you pleasure in vivid detail."

"You're insufferable," she grumbles and puts her hands on her hips. "I have a good mind not to tell you the true reason for my disappearing and keep you stewing in jealousy."

"I don't think you'd like the result of my increased jealousy."

"I don't know, your scowl was fierce, and the fire in your eyes was quite the sight," Kate teases, tracing her thumb over his furrowed brows. "Very becoming, actually."

Anthony stands and pulls her up with him, leading her to the couch. "Why have you been disappearing?"

"As I said, our anniversary is tomorrow, and I was getting your gift ready," she explains. "It's almost midnight. Perhaps I can give it to you a little bit early. I had one of the servants waiting outside for my return. They came in through the back entrance and have already snuck it into your study to reveal as a surprise for tomorrow."

"How sinister of you, plotting with our staff against me."

"Nothing sinister about it. I asked, and they agreed to help me. Unlike you, they think I'm perfectly agreeable."

"Obviously, they don't know you well enough to fear the wicked inner workings of your mind as I do."

Kate stands, gracefully sticking out her tongue and making him laugh. Anthony follows her down the hall into his study. She makes him close his eyes. He feels like a fool, stumbling into the room with Kate chuckling behind him. But, he feels guilty for thinking Kate could ever be unfaithful and indulges her wishes.

He waits for a few moments, hearing her moving something across the floor, before he asks, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Alright, you bloody impatient man, open your eyes."

As Anthony takes his hands away from his eyes, his heart stops in his chest. He gawks at the painting on a canvas stand in front of him.

"Kate," he utters breathlessly.

Kate chews on her bottom lip, hesitantly watching him observe the painting—no, "painting" doesn't seem like the right word for what it is.

It's a masterpiece, an almost perfect depiction of Kate.

The artist captured the exact fraction that Kate's lips tilt up when she smiles in amusement. Anthony often sees that expression pointed towards him when they're engaged in one of their bantering matches. The color of her brown eyes is just as deep in the painting. They're full of so much that Anthony still wants to explore even after a year of marriage.

In the portrait, Kate's shoulders are bare, the sleeves resting low on her arm. The bottom of the picture shows the scarlet bodice of her dress. But the most alluring part is how the brown curls of her hair flow freely down her neck, cascading like a waterfall.

Anthony has a strong distaste for her bonnets and how society demands she wears her hair up in public. Anthony loves running his fingers through her hair, which probably is why she posed for the painting with it down. That minx knew it would stir a feeling within him that no one else but her has been able to elicit.

"I hired Sir Granville to paint it," Kate blurts out, nervous from how long he's remained silent. "I wanted him to paint it in a private setting because it's a bit…."

"Breathtaking," Anthony answers.

"I was going to say suggestive, but breathtaking is a good adjective," Kate grins bashfully. She steps towards him, her eyes glowing through the dim light of the room. "It's a portrait for your eyes only, no one else's."

Anthony ducks his head. "I'm sorry that I thought you were...I just—."

"Foolishly got jealous of a person who doesn't exist? Yes, yes, you did."

He runs his fingers against the frame of the painting. "I have a mind to hang this in the common area, so everyone can see how lucky I am."

Kate's eyebrows snap together. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he asks playfully.

"It might encourage some men to meet the woman behind the painting," Kate notes with a mischievous glint in her eyes, pretending to consider his proposal. "Who am I to oppose admirers?"

Anthony's smirk fades. "You wouldn't dare."

"Ah, there's that handsome scowl," Kate points at him in triumph.

He swoops forward, his arms going around her waist. "You're maddening."

Kate's smile widens as she looks up at him, looping her hands around his neck. "You love it."

"You're right. I do love you. And, I love this portrait," Anthony adds, bobbing his head towards the painting. "Perhaps I should hang it in here. It can serve as a reminder of what's waiting for me when I finish my work."

She leans up a bit on her toes, her hands traveling lower down his back. "You know, I could come down to your study to remind you."

Anthony begins moving his hands as well. As they skim up her body, brushing her breast, he relishes in the sound of her moan. Anthony leans closer, pressing kisses down her neck until he gets to just the right spot. Kate's fingers curl tighter onto his back as his lips apply pressure there, and her body gravitates further against him.

"You're far too distracting," Anthony murmurs against her skin. "Perhaps, the portrait is too dangerous to be in here. I'd get nothing done."

"Exactly." She leans her face back a margin, so Anthony can see that enchanting tilt of her lips the artist depicted. "Why do you think I commissioned the painting in the first place?"

"To torture me?"

"All is fair in love and war," Kate says, grinning at him. "And hasn't our relationship always been a bit of both?"

In response, Anthony kisses her deeply and thoroughly. The sound of his pocket watch ticking starts to fade away. It gets replaced with the sound of his heart, which beats for Kate more than himself these days.

#kateandanthonyweek #kateandanthonyweek21 #katexanthonyweek #kate x anthony #kanthony #kathony #Katexanthonyweek21 #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #bridgerton series #bridgerton books #bridgerton netflix #Anthony x kate #simone ashley #fanfiction #Bridgerton #fanfic #bridgerton fanfic

50 notes · View notes

allygodot · 3 years

Text

Taking Accountability

My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee. I’m a 27 years old graduate of Chicago Law School living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am a heterosexual Christian, but am an ally to the LGBT community. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. These are all things my followers should know about me, so why am I telling you this? Well... what if I told you it was all a lie? I’m sure this is coming as a shock to a lot of you, and I sincerely apologize to everyone I’ve hurt with my deception. It is my hope that this post will clear up any misconceptions that have been spread about me, whether I spread them myself or otherwise, and that in the future there will be no animosity between us. I don’t expect to be forgiven nor do I deserve it, but if there is one thing I learned from my time in the church it is that all I can do is ask for mercy and hope for the best. But first... I think an explanation is in order. If all that isn’t the truth, then what is? It all starts in college, that nebulous period of my life that everyone keeps asking about and I keep bringing up. Before I went to university, I had always been completely unremarkable. I had always had the kind of fair weather friends who enjoyed my company, but never felt to invested in me. Combined with my status as a middle child, I always felt like I had something to prove to get people to like me. I would say and think whatever I needed to for them to stick around another day, and I’m sure you are familiar with what that means for teenage boys. I acted immaturely because it was what was expected... and anything outside of that was looked down upon it even forbidden. I never thought much of it at the time, but I realize now that I wasn’t allowed much self-expression when I was always trying to conform to their standards. Everything changed when I met him. My assigned college roommate, Anton, was everything my years of conditioning had taught me to distrust. Despite his tall stature, he was emotional and sensitive... even vulnerable. Even so, he wasn’t afraid to be unabashedly himself. The first thing that struck me as unusual about him was his clothing... he almost always wore pastel pink or yellow and I hardly ever saw him without his long, checkered scarf. His nails were always painted with a clear, glittery polish, and I don’t think he ever skipped a shower in his life. His hair was always soft and smelled like strawberry even at a distance... all this to say he immediately struck me as fruity so I wanted nothing to do with him, at least initially. Despite his kindness to me, I would always respond with either the cold shoulder or open scorn, which only amplified the more I learned about him. I discovered pretty quickly that he was a furry, since one day I came home from a day of classes to find a decapitated pink cat head on our couch. He patiently explained the whole culture to me while I glared at him skeptically, but he didn’t seem bothered at all. He even brought out his paws and tail and told me he was saving up for a full suit despite my open disgust. Looking back, I still have no clue why he put up with me during that time. Another curious aspect of Anton’s life was his addiction to a certain television series called “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” His room was filled with merchandise from stuffed animals to figurines, and I had nothing but disdain for the tacky and embarrassing decoration. I was afraid that if I ever brought a girl over to our apartment she would notice and make all sorts of incorrect assumptions... I couldn’t handle the embarrassment. I tried on multiple occasions to convince him to hide them in a secret box or something, but he always just smiled and shook his head. I even tried to sneak into his room and collect all the ponies for donation once, but he had anticipated this and hid a playful trap for me... I reached forward to grab one of his overpriced statues and immediately got a face full of multi-colored snakes. I was livid of course, despite it being my own fault for trying to pawn of his collection in the first place, but he wasn’t even phased by my tirade. I suppose he was 6’5” and I was (and still am) only 5′7″... but still, I had at least expected him to be somewhat apologetic if not fearful. Instead, he just laughed and told me I should watch the show with him sometime. I obviously had no intentions of taking him up on his ludicrous offer... until he promised that if I didn’t enjoy the show, he would move all of his ponies into a case that he would throw a big curtain on whenever I said the word. I reluctantly agreed on those conditions, positive that this was a bet I couldn’t lose. I still remember that night like it was yesterday. He lead me into the pony chamber and sat down on his bed, taking out his laptop to pull up his favorite episode. It was “The Canterlot Wedding” two part season finale, and although I initially protested that I only agreed to watch one episode, I eventually relented once he reminded me what the prize was. I was hesitant to sit beside him on his bed and lean over his shoulder to look at the small screen, but he assured me that it didn’t bother him at all. I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he felt about it... it was more so my own pride I was worried about. Nevertheless, I sat through the whole episode with him despite myself. Although I was disturbed by the tendency for his long and curly hair to gravitate into my mouth while I rested my cheek against his shoulder, I found the episode to be surprisingly enjoyable. The song in particular surprised me with it’s musicality... by the end of it I didn’t want to leave, but I was far too embarrassed to admit that to him earnestly. I told him I was interested in the show purely for the songs and that it could benefit my studies as a music major, but that he still had to uphold his end of the bargain since I was by no means enjoying it. He just smiled and put on another episode, and before I knew it the sun was rising outside his window. I realized just how tired I was and turned to tell him I would be going to bed only to discover he had fallen asleep. I began to suspect that he must have been asleep for several hours, letting the auto-play functionality do his job for him while he rested up for his exams. Although I was scandalized, I was impressed by his tactical prowess... he had managed to trap me in his room, since I couldn’t move from my spot without disturbing his slumber, and he didn’t even have to be awake to do it. Begrudgingly, I spent the rest of his room, until eventually the faint aroma of strawberries lured me into the world of dreams... This arrangement continued for quite some time. When I got home from my classes, Anton would ask me if I wanted to watch some My Little Pony with him and I only agreed so long as he put the curtain over the cabinet next time I asked. He always obliged whenever I asked him to conceal his collection, but eventually I stopped asking for him to do so and only reminded him not to break our contract before every episode out of habit. It became a ritual for the two of us to do this every night, and even once we had finished all of the episodes we would just watch them again. I found that I was becoming endeared to this eccentric man... and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn’t help but feel my heart swell a bit in my chest whenever he would run his fingers through his hair or tighten his scarf around his neck. I told myself it was nothing... but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. I don’t know what possessed me, but one night I thought I would get to know Anton a little better. I started by asking if he was single, which to me seemed like an innocuous question, but the very fact I was asking seemed to amuse him. He told me that he was having trouble finding a guy who wasn’t immediately turned off by all the ponies, and I made sure to snidely comment that he shouldn’t be going out with guys anyway even though it made my heart skip a beat when he said that, as well as mention that if he would just give up his collection there wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he asked me the same thing: how was my love life going, especially considering my new hobby? I couldn’t help but get flustered and start making excuses. I told him that there was no shortage of girls lined up to date me, but that I just wasn’t ready to make a commitment yet. I spun a whole story about how a girlfriend would only hold me back... I almost forgot that the standard that Anton accepted was completely different from my old teenage friends. He wasn’t impressed that girls were apparently lining up to get a piece of me... he just seemed amused that I thought such a thing was realistic, much less desirable. He didn’t understand that compulsive need to lie at all... he thought it would be better if more guys admitted that they were vulnerable. That was the first time I’d ever heard someone say something like that... I suddenly felt extremely exposed, and before I knew it my eyes were full of tears. My first instinct was to cover my face with my sleeve and hide my shame, but he was already firmly gripping my arm and holding it in place. He told me that I didn’t need to hide anything from him. He asked me if there was anything he could do to help me... and so for what felt like the first time in my life, I told the truth. It was supposed to be just to try it. I wasn’t expecting to actually enjoy it, I just thought that if I got it out of my system all of the unnecessary feelings would finally stop tormenting me... but all they did was grow stronger. I kept telling him that I was still looking for a girlfriend and that once I got one this whole arrangement would end, but eventually I realized that there was no point in lying to myself anymore. I wasn’t ever even sleeping in my own room anymore. I hadn’t so much as glanced at any dating websites in weeks. I was committed, whether I wanted to admit it or not... and I didn’t want to admit it. I only wish that I had told him how I really felt when I had the chance... One of the many things we started to share, which seemed the most inconsequential to me at the time, was a webpage. Anton was the owner of a small subreddit dedicated to My Little Pony fursuits, and he asked me if I would be willing to help him moderate. It wasn’t something I felt qualified to speak as an authority on, since even as I became more open about my love for ponies I still didn’t really feel connected to furry culture despite accompanying him to several conventions, but I was willing to do basically anything just to please him. My job was mostly to stop people from publicly “yiffing,” and although it was a grueling line of work it wasn’t thankless. Anton was a poet with words of affirmation. Many of the compliments he paid me were certainly undeserved, but they motivated me more than anything else ever had... but I got too zealous. There was a certain user on the server who for the sake of protecting privacy, we shall call XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX. As a member of the subreddit they were of course a brony and a furry, but what made them stand out was their dedication to the Flutterdash ship. They were constantly posting couple’s cosplays of themselves dressed as Rainbow Dash, but the Fluttershy in each picture was always different. They were also exceptionally sociable and aggressively tried to make friends with everyone on the tiny subreddit... Anton and I included. I wasn’t so keen on pursuing another friendship that could very well ruin my reputation, but of course Anton was immediately taken with the idea. The two of them exchanged contacts and hit it off instantly, and I started having trouble sleeping at night because he was awake in the early hours of the morning texting his friend in another timezone. He always paid me just as much attention as always during the daytime, but once he saw that his new friend was online he would crawl out of bed to go converse with them in another room. He was trying so hard to be considerate of me, and perhaps it was selfish for me to expect that I would always be able to sense his warmth and scent beside me while I slept... but at the time I was blinded by jealousy. One fateful morning, he excitedly woke me up to tell me that XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX had gifted him tickets to a major convention, and that the two of them were planning to cosplay Flutterdash together. He apologetically explained that he would be gone for a few days since the convention was halfway across the country, but sensing the disturbance within me he assured me that he could probably convince his friend to let me tag along as Applejack... she was always my least favorite. It didn’t matter what Anton said to encourage me, because I was never going to accept any consolation until this threat to our sacred relationship was eliminated. I had to find a way to get rid of XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX by any means necessary... In a fit of rage, I whipped out the ban hammer and beat my rival to death with it, metaphorically speaking. It was a blatant abuse of my privilege as a moderator and I am ashamed to admit it now... but at the time all that mattered was covering up the evidence. I knew I had to come up with an excuse for why I had banned them, so I added a new rule to the subreddit: Flutterdash was prohibited. The news was not met with acceptance from the other members of the community. To some more in the loop with the situation, it was obvious that I had only banned XxLesbianRainbowDash69xX because of a petty personal dispute, but others saw it as nothing but an unfair rule. I was accused of being biased towards other ships like Flutterchord or Appledash and that I needed to accept other people’s ship preferences, or even that I was homophobic and couldn’t handle the thought of lesbian characters in my favorite show. Chants of “mods are gay” could be heard across the subreddit from all sides of the debate, and everyone was rallying for Anton to remove me as a tyrannical moderator. Sound familiar? I can’t help but notice some similarities between my situation and Mo the one over at Kristahlia Week... maybe that is why the drama captivated me so. Anton tried to reason with me, bless his heart, but at this point I had completely devolved back into my screaming teenager mentality to cope with all the rejection. He was obviously disappointed in me for what I had done but he had no reason to believe it would ruin us... he couldn’t have handled it better. It really was my fault that things happened the way they did, but I refused to take accountability. What I told him still haunts my conscience to this day, even six years later. I told him that I never loved him, and that I was only using his companionship to fulfill my carnal desires. I told him that I didn’t care about what he did with his life as long as he didn’t do anything that kept him away from me. I even told him that I still thought he was disgusting and embarrassing. And the worst thing is... in that moment I meant every word. I was so selfish... I genuinely forgot that I loved him and treated him like he only existed to serve me. My actions were truly despicable and I deserved to suffer for it... and I did. For the first time, I saw Anton cry. I should have been there to comfort him like he did for me on that fateful night, but instead I let him run out of the house to go suffer by himself. By the time I realized how horrible I was acting, it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. I came home the next day to discover all the ponies in the apartment finally gone... isn’t that what I had wanted? My moderator status on the subreddit had been stripped away, and I had been banned by all of the members of the group on nearly every social media platform. Another classmate later informed me that Anton had transferred to a different college... and that was the end. I have no idea what happened to him after that, but I can only hope he is doing well. Instead of taking this as an omen that I should improve my behavior, I began to become even more bitter than I was before I met Anton. I acted like my relationship with him was just an experimental phase that was doomed to fail from the start, and soon I was denying that it ever even happened at all. I convinced myself that the problem in our relationship was that I wasn’t supposed to be with men, and so I began to insist that I was straight and aggressively seek out relationships with women just to prove it to myself. I also started searching for strict moral codes that could give direction to my life... which is when I found the Church. I was attracted to their beliefs because they gave a very clear outline for how someone’s life should go and promised ultimate happiness to anyone who could fulfill the requirements, so I began to obsess over meeting those requirements. I wanted a Christian wife that could bear me many children not because that is how I wanted to live my life, but because that is how other people wanted me to live my life... and all I wanted was for others to tell me I was doing something right. The congregation was distrusting if me at first, and although they never said it to my face I know it was because they were aware of my past. Hardly a woman would come near me, and looking back on it I can’t say I blame them. The ones who were desperate enough for a husband to give me a shot were quirky repulsed by my egotistical behavior, which certainly didn’t help my reputation. Throughout all this, I still somehow told myself I was the victim because I didn’t want to admit that I had become the villain again. For a long time, the only person in the parish who would willingly hold a conversation with me was Lana. She was a fellow member of the choir and a devout believer in God, but she was often judged by the rest of the congregation for being an open lesbian despite her faith. She tried to convince me on several occasions that I didn’t have to perform any sort of identity to impress anyone and that I should “just be myself,” but I insisted that I knew what I was talking about. Eventually, she decided my well-being wasn’t her responsibility and gave up on trying to reason with me, but nonetheless she still treated me more kindly then many of the other churchgoers. I believe that my “dark past” is what drew Gabriella to me in the first place. She likely hoped that we could act as covers for each other until she figured some way out of her situation, but unfortunately I was too far gone to be of any help. I convinced myself that she was really in love with me and that she would be walking down the aisle soon enough. Whether or not I was really interested in her or just interested in what she represented I’m still not sure... but she truly was a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have to suffer through my baggage. When she left me I was truly devastated... so much so that I even began to go through another crisis of belief that I recorded on this very blog. All I have to add is that I no longer bear any resentment towards Lana or Gabriella, and only wish them the best of luck. My relationship with Krissy began almost immediately after my breakup with Gabriella. I was desperate to regain the status I supposed that I had lost along with my girlfriend, so I latched onto the first woman who showed me any sort of positive attention. Her death and my downward spiral are all well-documented on this blog. I didn’t want to blame myself for her passing as well, so I developed a conspiracy to rationalize the whole ordeal. I even tried to act like a completely different person to try to keep the blame as mentally distant from myself as possible, but that didn’t work either. In the end, this is my cross to bear alone. So that brings us to now. What will become of allygodot? The truth is, I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t think that is the most important thing right now. I realized last night when I was looking at that art of Diego and Godot as Happy Tree Friends characters that I desperately wanted to be anyone other than myself... it really opened my eyes to the level of repression that had been burdening me since the incident six years ago. I realized that if I wanted to change, sitting around and thinking about how things could hypothetically be different isn’t going to do anything. If I want to make progress and truly become a better person, I’m going to have to act better, not just tell myself that I am. From now on, I will be defining myself on my actions and not my beliefs, as wise man once said. I hope that soon, I will have become a good enough person to meet Anton face to face again... I still love him after all these years, and even though I expect that he justifiably won’t want anything to do with me anymore, I still think that it is a guilt that needs to be resolved. If I ever come back to this blog, it’ll be as a different Adam to the one you thought that you knew. It’ll be as the Adam I’m trying to become... the true Adam that I know exists deep within me... Not allygodot, but as proudgodot. My name is Adam, but people online call me Coffee or Godot. I’m a 27 years old former music student living in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I am bisexual. My main interests are Ace Attorney, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

131 notes · View notes

wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

tired — regulus black

pairing: regulus black x female!reader

prompt: regulus loses himself to the dark lord, but she won’t let him.

requests are open. gif credit goes to @elioperl. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

The entire castle seems to be asleep. No sound pierces the otherwise complete silence aside from the occasional hooting of an owl or two in the distance.

But in the Slytherin dungeons, a girl paces restlessly, eyes darting to and from the grandfather clock in the corner of the common room as though in anticipation for something to pop out. Worry is etched deep into the lines of her face, tugging the corners of her lips into a frown and weighing heavily on her chest.

She wrings her hands nervously the same way she has been doing for the past ten minutes now, chewing on her bottom lip and barely even registering the fact that she is beginning to draw blood. No, she can't register much, actually—not right now, when all she can think about is—

"Regulus!"

The door to the common room slides open and reveals from behind it the very person [Y/N] had been so anxious to see. Letting out a breathless sigh, she rushes towards Regulus and, without pausing to even look at him, wraps her arms around his middle.

Relief. It's a wonderful thing to feel.

"You're okay," she whispers into his chest, closing her eyes as she nods compulsively to herself. "You're okay."

[Y/N] feels the vibrations of Regulus's voice in his chest, feels his warm breath on her hair. "I'm okay, love," he whispers, placing his hand on the back of her head as he strokes her hair soothingly. "I'm okay."

The pair of them stay like that for several more moments, basking in the feeling of each other's presence. [Y/N] feels as though a heavy, suffocating weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. He's okay is all she can think to herself; it's the only thought that grounds her to reality, that keeps her sane.

When she finally finds it in herself to pull away, she keeps her hands wrapped around his torso and looks up at him.

Regulus looks tired. He always does these days, but [Y/N] still can't quite get used to it. The hollow bags, the dull hue of his skin and the suddenly more pronounced lines on his face are all signs that something is out of the ordinary, but perhaps what is most alarming is the lack of warmth in his expression. The regular person wouldn't be able to see it, but [Y/N] knows every inch of Regulus better than she knows herself, and the vacancy in his eyes is what makes her grip on his torso falter.

"What happened?"

[Y/N] doesn't know why she'd even bothered asking. She knows that like every other night he left the castle, Regulus had probably stood by the Dark Lord's side as he murdered yet another innocent person. And then a part of her wonders—had it been Regulus who had done the killing this time?

Her arms fall to her sides and she steps away from him, blinking stupidly at the thought.

Regulus's eyes skitter away from hers; she feels a mixture of dread and uneasiness blossom in her stomach like a hideous, deadly flower. He reaches up to adjust the tie around his neck, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows and opens his mouth to say something—

"No, don't," [Y/N] cuts him off, sighing. "Just.. nevermind. I don't need to know."

And just like that, the night has turned cold and the relief of seeing Regulus alive and whole is gone. The tension between the two of them is palpable—or perhaps Regulus has gotten so numb to things that only [Y/N] can feel it. The idea sends a dull stabbing pain through her chest, and she swallows, bows her head briefly, and says to the floor, "I'll turn in for the night."

"[Y/N]—"

"I don't—" she purses her lips tightly, shaking her head. "I don't want to fight right now, Reg."

"I wasn't planning on it," Regulus mutters.

They fall quiet again. The silence is everything but comfortable; there are a million words between them that need to be said—that [Y/N] wants to say—but the cowardly part of her wants to hang onto the delusion that everything is as normal as it has always been. That Regulus isn't one of the Dark Lord's many ruthless followers—that he is the same Regulus she has always known.

But he isn't. [Y/N] turns around to head to her dormitory, and the thought reverberates through her head again like a plea begging to be heard: he isn't.

It's that thought that causes her to stop in her tracks, turn around and say in a pained voice—"What happened tonight, Regulus?"

He meets her gaze—and she almost wishes he hadn't, because the look in his eyes makes the answer clear even when he refuses to tell her.

"You don't need to know, [Y/N]," he winces. "I'll see you tomorrow—"

"What happened tonight?" she repeats, voice tight.

Regulus squeezes his eyes shut like he's in pain. "[Y/N]—"

"Tell me what he made you do. I want to know."

But all he does is shake his head and turn his body away like he can't bear to face her. [Y/N] doesn't want to walk away from this like it's nothing—with tears of suppressed frustration prickling at the back of her eyes, she takes a deep breath and says quietly, "Did you kill someone?"

Regulus looks up at her, brows furrowed. "No—"

"Did you watch someone get killed?"

"I—"

"Or did you sell one of the Order members out?"

He exhales heavily. "Let me—"

"Or—let's see," her tone of voice rises into a near-shout as all of the frustration she has felt for the past few days builds up in her chest and spills out of her mouth in the form of words; "Did you torture an innocent Muggle? Which one, Regulus?"

Regulus runs an aggravated hand through his hair and groans. "Why do you need to know?"

"Because I'm SCARED for you!" she practically screams, hating the single angry tear that leaks out of her eye. "Do you even realize the risk you're putting yourself in? Do you? Because I do, and I can't stand the thought of you dying or—or worse, losing your head and becoming a mindless serva—"

"I've already told you I won't," Regulus cuts her off through gritted teeth, fists clenching as he turns away. "I know what I'm doing."

"You think you do but you don't—"

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

She pauses. Regulus has turned around to face her, eyes blown wide as his chest heaves with deep breaths. With his fists clenched painfully tight and his brows pulled in together at the middle in a nasty scowl, he advances towards her and jabs a finger at her chest—"Did you think I went into this blind? You are daft for thinking you know better than me—I know fully well what I've gotten myself into—I know that I'm putting my entire life on the line and I wouldn't have decided to take that risk if I didn't bloody know that I COULD HANDLE IT!"

She should probably back off at this point. A part of her thinks about apologizing—considers reigning it in before things get worse—but [Y/N] is tired. This isn't the first time they've argued about this. She's tired of it—arguing—but beyond that she is sick of having to say goodbye to him whenever he goes on his little quests with the Dark Lord, not knowing when she'd ever see him again or if he'd even be able to come back to her.

[Y/N] is tired.

And because of this, she doesn't back down. Instead, using as much of her pent-up anger as she can muster, she shoves him by the shoulders. It doesn't have its desired effect—Regulus is much too strong for someone her size—but he does stagger back a little.

[Y/N] is tired.

She shoves him again—and again, and again, until he stumbles and trips over the table behind him, falling on his arse. [Y/N] can't put the anger in her chest into words; all that tears its way out of her mouth is a scream of frustration, and at that moment she wants to grab Regulus by the shoulders and shake him to his senses—

But she doesn't even want to touch him anymore at this point.

"I'm doing this—" she cries out angrily, speaking through the tightness in her chest, "I'm doing this because I care about you! Do you think you're special to him? Do you think you're his—what—his right-hand man?" she lets out a mocking scoff, shaking her head. "You're just a fucking puppet to him—"

"I—"

"Something he can throw away anytime he wan—"

Getting to his feet, Regulus seethes, "You don't—"

With a pointed finger jabbing into the air at each word, she shouts in a voice so broken it's a miracle she's able to form words at all, "YOU—ARE—DISPOSABLE!"

Regulus's arm lashes out, but not to hit her—no, he grabs a vase on the table and flings it across the room, where it breaks with an ear-splitting sound into a hundred tiny pieces. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he fumes, eyes wide with an almost manic kind of anger, "He needs me—"

A humorless burst of laughter slips past [Y/N]'s lips. "Don't kid yourself, Regulus."

"He needs me—you don't understand, you will never understand but he needs me—"

Feeling frustrated more than ever, [Y/N] takes a step towards him, spurred on by the white-hot anger in her chest. "I do too!" she chokes out, finding it harder to speak as the raging emotions inside her chest threaten to swallow her whole. "I need you too—that's why I'm doing this—" She's pleading. Pleading with him to listen. To understand.

But he doesn't.

Regulus shakes his head. He doesn't even look at her; he glues his eyes to a random spot in the room, gaze stony. "Not as much as he needs me."

Silence.

Oh.

Her shoulders slump. Her fists uncurl. She feels as though all the fight has died in her—and it has.

That's it, then.

[Y/N] nods, taking a shaky breath, feeling a thousand words die in her throat. There is nothing more left to say—she's tired. And she has heard enough.

"Okay," she swallows, hands trembling at her sides. "Okay. We're done."

Regulus doesn't look up.

"We're done," she repeats, more to herself than to him, voice now void of any anger or frustration or sadness—now she just sounds tired. "I'm done. We're done."

And then, turning on her heel, she leaves the common room.

Regulus doesn't look up.

881 notes · View notes