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nyxerebus · 3 years

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Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader)

Summary: Carl was running for his life, being chased by walkers after he went on his own looking for Sophia. When he is corned by the walker a stranger woman saves him. She is looking for her Fiancee for the old world, but offers her help returning him to the farm. They bond over the days in the woods and she learns she might have another reason to find the farm.

Words: 3.1 k

“Carl?” Lori shouted across the farm. She hadn’t seen the boy all day and was starting to get nervous. “Have you seen Carl?” Maggie shook her head. “Not since breakfast” She answered in her southern accent. “Maybe he is with Rick? Or Shane?” Lori just nodded, but didn’t feel any safer. Where was her son?

Carl was running for his life. The two walkers were closing inn. He knew better than to shout and call for help, knowing it would probably attract even more walkers, but right now he didn’t care. “MOM!” He quickened his pace. “DAD!” Two walkers turned into four as two more appeared at his side. Tears was now streaming down his face as he was sure he was going to die here. He looked back again, ready to face death. But the walkers didn’t close inn on him. Instead arrow after arrow filled the air and all the walkers dropped. When Carl turned back around, fully expecting to see Daryl standing there, was surprised to see a stranger. “Are you okay?” The stranger asked him. Carl looked up at the woman. He was inn shock and didn’t know what to say. “You got a group? A family” She continued to ask him. When she tried to approach him, he backed up. “Hey, you don’t need to worry, I won’t do you any harm. Look” She dropped her cross bow and unleased her knife from her holster. When both fell to the ground, she could see him relaxing more. “Can I ask your name?”

“Carl, Carl Grimes”

“Well, Carl Grimes. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m looking for my fiancée. But I can help you return back to you family. Someone as young as you shouldn’t be out here alone”.

Carl was still unsure about her. Remembering her mother’s speech about stranger danger. But those were the rules of the old world. Here in the new world they should accept help form anyone who invites it, right? After thinking it through, he nodded. “Okay, okay. This is a good start. How far away is your camp?” Carl looked down, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know”

“Do you know the directions?” He shook his head. “Well shit, looks like were in quiet a pickle huh?” She smiled at him, trying to ease him. “I don’t know this area, never been here before. So, I say we head in one direction and hope for the best. What do you think?” He nodded. “Great! Lets go then!”

And so they started to wander. (Y/N) in front, with Carl a meter behind. “Sooo, do you have a favourite movie or something?” He just stared at her. “What! Come on, were going to be stuck with each other for a while, might as well get to know each other”. After a minute of silence, he spoke. “Iron Man”

“That’s a good movie! Mine is probably that or Pride and Prejudice”. Carl scrunched up his nose almost in disgust. “But that’s so girly! All they do is talk about their feelings and kiss!” She looked back at him, offended by his remarks. “And!? It’s a great love story that is still relevant to this day” She played up her offence more hoping it would make him laugh. It did. “Its still so girly” He said between giggles. “Never mind, were is the nearest walker. I’m feeding you to it” (Y/N)’s giggling was now a full on laughter. “Nooo!” Carl was laughing too. (Y/N) was relieved he was laughing, afraid the incident had traumatized him badly.

Back at the farm, panic was settling inn as no one knew were Carl was. “Who was the last to see him?” Rick asked the group. “I saw him after breakfast” Andrea spoke up, she and Carol was comforting Lori, who was having a full blown break down. “He probably went out looking for Sophia alone” All looked to Shane. “I’m mean why else would he suddenly leave”.

“I think your right, but he is still healing from the gun wound, he wouldn’t get far. And if a walker got him, he wouldn’t have much fight in him”.

“My baby!” Lori cried out in agony. “We need to send out search groups, he couldn’t have gone far”. Everyone agreed with Rick. “And with some luck we might find Sophia as well” Daryl nodded at Carol. She smiled back.

The sun had set and the night was creeping closer. (Y/N) had set up an alert system around the small camp they built for the night. Barb wire around them with empty cans tied up. They would rattle if a walker came close and waking them up. It was how (Y/N) had been sleeping every night.

“Go to sleep, I’ll look out for walkers” (Y/N) said leaned back against a tree. She had laid down her sleeping bag that he could use. “I wont fall asleep” Carl complained. “Try”.

“Can you tell me a story” She looked at him weird. “Aren’t you a bit old for fairy tales?”

“Not fairy tales, stories about your life, from before this?” She still looked at him weirdly. “My mom used to tell me stories from her collage days so I could fall asleep when I was younger. Can you please?” When he looked at her with those poppy eyes, (even though it was hard to see with only their small campfire as a light source), who could say no?

“Okay kid, one story than you go to sleep. Deal?” He nodded “What do you want to know?”

“You are engaged right, how was the proposal?” She giggled at the memory but started to tell about the best day of her life:

“Daryl! What are we doing here?” She was a bit frustrated as the redneck pulled her along the streets. It was midday and pretty damn hot. She pulled down her dress skirt as the wind picked up. “Have some patience’ damn woman” She giggled at his bruteness. One of the things she loved about the man, one of many. When they stopped in front of a new bookshop, he could see the hearts in her eyes. “I dint know they opened a new bookshop here!” She exclaimed. “Saw it last night and thought you might like it” Lies. He had known they were opening here for the past month, doing everything in his power to make sure you dint know. They actually had opening night a week ago.

Now it was her turn to drag him along. It surprised her to see the shop empty, seeing as the streets were pretty full. But she didn’t think much of it. Running between shelves after shelves, the one book in hand turning into two, than four and now finally six books. But when she turned around, all the books fell too the floor. Because there before her was her lovely boyfriend, down on one knee with a ring between his fingers. “Oh my god” She whispered into the silent shop. As if on cue, the speakers played her favourite song.

“(Y/N) (L/N), you are the love of my life. And I just want to be your man’ for the rest of your life. And, shit you know I aint’ good with my emotions, but when I’m with ya’ it seems so easy. Shit, I’m messing it all up” He was stumbling over his own words, clearly forgetting a pre-rehearsed speech. “no, please continue” tears were forming in her eyes. “I love ya’ (Y/N), my Sunshine. You book crazy mad woman. I love everything about ya’. So, will ya’ marry me?” He was ready for a rejection, ready to see her walk out of his life forever. But she didn’t.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes” Tears were streaming down her face. He stood up and kissed her. His arm wrapping around her waist, bending her down a bit so he could kiss her more passionately. Like in the movies. They only broke off so he could slip the ring on her finger, it fit her perfectly.

“Did he rent out the bookshop?” Carl asked, clearly very invested. “Yeah, cost him way too much, but he didn’t care. That idiot was never good with money” She giggled at the memories. “What about after, what did you guys do?”

“Nah nah nah, the deal was one story than you go to sleep. I can tell you more tomorrow”. Carl huffed in annoyance but turned around in the sleeping bag. “Good night”

“Good night Carl”.

“Rick, it’s been a whole night! Where is he?” Lori was completely lost; she hadn’t slept all night. To worried about where her son was. “What if his trapped, oh god! What if those walkers got him?”

“We can’t think like that! He is fine. He has to be” Rick did everything he could to try and look confident and comfort his wife, but the worry was eating him up as well. The same thoughts were running through his head as well. Those terrible images of his baby boy being ripped apart by the walkers.

“Okay, open your mouth” Carl did as instruct and tried to catch the berry she threw into his mouth. She missed, but only with an inch! “You suck!” Carl teased her. “Hey! I’m not the one with a tiny mouth!” She teased back. “Alright, lets start walking big man”. He nodded and helped her clean up the camp. “Can I ask a question?” The boy asked as they continued to walk. “Sure”

“What happened between you and your fiancée? Why aren’t you together now?”

She took a deep breath. “When the outbreak happened, we weren’t together. He was off god know where with his brother, probably bailing him out or something-” Carl looked at her questioning, “That’s another story. But yeah, we weren’t together. I was at campus and that turned into a mess, I lots a lot of friends there. Mass panic and everybody evacuated. I and a couple of other students bunkered up a dorm room. Living of the instant noodles and beer we found. That lasted maybe 4 days. So, we left and split off, I wanted to go into the woods, where he would be and the rest wanted to go to back to Atlanta. And since than I have been looking for him. Living in the woods like a mad man.” Tears started to form in her eyes when she relived the horrible times at the campus.

“Sorry I asked”. He looked down. “Its alright” She smiled at him. “What were you studying?”

“Heh, literature. Not much help in the apocalypse, I guess”.

“Than how did you learn to use the bow and hunt?”

“He taught me” She smiled at the memory, and thanked him desperately for teaching her:

“Why do I need to learn this? I live in the city, I will never hunt or live in the woods!” Daryl just scuffed at her and placed the bow he bought in her hands. He had brought her out to the woods after her classes to teach her hunting. “ya’ need to be able to fend for yourself and feed yourself” She just looked him with a raise brow, but eventually gave in. “Fine, fine. Teach me”. A smirk played out on his face, happy with his little victory. Truth be told, he needed to know that you could fend for yourself and be independent, in and out of the city. It eased him at night, in a weird way. “Why cant I learn the crossbow like you?”

“First bow, than crossbow. Alright Sunshine’”

Shoooo! The arrow flew through the air and hit the squirl in the head. “Score!” (Y/N) exclaimed. She fastened the squirrel two her belt, joining the five others she had shot. “We eating good tonight!” Carl looked at the squirrels with a lot of scepticisms. “What? Don’t tell me you’re a picky eater”

“No, it just looks so weird like that” They bickered back and front while they walked in the direction, they thought the farm was inn. They had changed their direction a couple of times, hoping to get closer and see sign of life.

They had spent the entire day walking, and as the night came closer they found a spot to camp up. Carl set up the wires while (Y/N) started a fire to cook the squirrels. While they ate, Carl told her about his family and the people they were in the camp with. “What the hell! You got shot?!”

“Yeah!” Carl had a proud grin on his face, finally having something that made him look cool. “Shit, man your tougher than me if you can bounce back like that”. He laughed and continued to brag about the experience. It was a nice conversation. He talked a bunch about his family, mostly about his dad. Clearly his hero. But than he mentioned a familiar name.

“Wait! Daryl? Daryl with a crossbow?” Carl just nodded. “Does he have a west with angel wings? Brother named Merle?” When Carl nodded again. Tears started to from in her eyes. She was going to be reunited with Daryl, her Daryl. He was alive. That night when Carl finally fell asleep, her mind wandered to all the amazing memories with the man.

It was cold in the room. The window was wide open and letting the moonshine lighting up the small bedroom. (Y/N) and Daryl was huddled together for warmth on the bed. It had been an long night. From a failed date after the place Daryl wanted to take her to was closed, she got catcalled which ended up with her having to drag Daryl of the stranger. And when they got home, he showed her his scars. She was the first romantic partner he had ever shown. The night ended with their naked, sweaty bodies pressed together, while both worked to please the other. It was their first night together, her first night with anyone. When they lied down together basking in the aftermath of their climax, it was one of the happiest times in her life. He wrapped his arms around her and puller her on top of him. Her head resting on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her, caressing her back with one hand, the other squeezing her thigh. “I love ya Sunshine”.

“(Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)! Wake up!” Carl shook her awake. “What’s happening” She immediately reached for her bow and charged it ahead of her, ready to attack any enemy that threatened them. “I can see the farm!” The night had made it harder to see a head of them, but now that the sun was lighting up the world, they could see the farm a head of them. (Y/N) realised her bow and the breath she was holding. They packed up the camp at record time, both wanting to reach the farm as quickly as possible. The walk over to the farm was quiet. When they reached the outcast of the woods, a voice stopped them from going any further.

“Well, well, well, look at that. Do you guys see this fine piece of ass” A man walked out from behind a tree with a gun raised at them both. Three other guys came out, all with their weapons raised. “Sure do boss. Haven’t seen a woman this fine in what feels like ages. I’m just aching to be inside of her”.

(Y/N) placed herself protectively in front of Carl. “What do you guys want? Our food, weapons? You can have that, just leave us alone” Her voice trembled a little afraid of what they will do to them. “Oh, we don’t need your left overs or those teeth pickers you call knifes, no baby. We want something different” He grabbed his crotch when he said the last part. “Carl, run”.

“What? I cant leave-” “Carl! Run!” One of the guys tackled her down. Holding her down on the ground. “Get the kid” The boss said to the guy closest to Carl. “RUN!” She shouted before her mouth was covered. Carl finally ran away, when the guy ordered to catch him started to run after him.

When he made it out of the forest and ran across the fields to the farm, he started to shout out for help. “MOM! DAD!”.

“Do you guys hear that?” Glenn asked the group as they sat around planning the move for the day. “That’s Carl” Lori ran towards the field and saw her son running across it being chased by a stranger.

“Carl!” All the guys saw it too and started to run to Carl. The guy chasing him, saw the men running towards him and turned around to warn the others. “Carl!” Rick finally got to hug his son after being missing for 3 days. But the hug was cut short when Carl pushed free. “We need to head back, (Y/N), the girl that helped me is back there and the guys are attacking her!” He pulled his fathers hand and started to move back to the woods, but Daryl stopped him.

“(Y/N), as in (Y/N) (L/N)?” When Carl nodded Daryl took off and ran towards the forest. The others followed, but this time Carl was pushed back behind them. When they got closer they could hear her voice yelling for them to get off. They reached the area Daryl did not hesitate to shoot the guys around her, holding her down while the main guy was cutting up her clothes. When she got her hands free, she leaped on the last guy and grabbed her knife they had forgotten to remove from her belt. When he was pushed to the ground she didn’t hesitate to stab him in the chest. She didn’t stop after one, two three or four. Blood splashed on her face and torned shirt. Her hands were covered in blood.

Rick took a step forward, but stepped on a twig that snaped in two. She leaped up and raised the knife up, ready to protect herself against another attacker. But when she saw Daryl standing there, she dropped the knife. Sobs wracked through her body and she took a stumbling step forward. Daryl closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn’t care that she was covered in blood, just happy that she was safe. She was alive.

Her knees buckled and she fell down, taking him with her. They were both on their knees holding each other and crying into each other’s necks. Right now, nobody else mattered. Not Rick, Glenn or Shane who was staring at the scene in front of them. Not the bodies of her attackers lying around them. No one. Only them as they held each other for the first time. It seemed as Carl had led her back to her family just as much as she had helped him back to his.

A/N: Part 2 is out! You can read it here : Part 2

Please ignore any spelling mistakes as English is not my first language :)

#the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes

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rae-gar-targaryen · 4 years

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alight with the lights out | diego hargreeves x reader [tua]

A/N: Thank you for all of your interest after I posted the teaser! It was VERY surprising and humbling; I’ve NEVER had so many people ask for a tag before. I only ask that if you asked for a tag, you interact with this fic SOMEHOW. And go find another story you love and REBLOG IT! LET THAT WRITER KNOW YOU LOVE THEM!

I’ll be honest, I’m very nervous about this one. I’m not sure if it turned out as good on paper as it did in my head. Please let me know what you liked and what you didn’t!

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x vigilante, powered!Reader; this one may read a bit more like an OC because I’ve given the reader backstory, powers. She’s (you’re) a vigilante who regularly runs into Diego. I keep the physical description vague, so I hope you can still imagine yourself!

Warnings: Language; who doesn’t love getting a little sweary? Violence, fighting, references to a shitty childhood, and separately, implied sexual assault (nothing graphic, I promise); angst and angsty dialogue; SMUT-- 18+ ONLY PLEASE; lots of cocktease dialogue, fingering, pierced nipples (the reader’s not Diego’s-- sorry), biting, rough sex, choking. Romance is its own warning. Fluff.

Word Count: 12.1k of sexy, self-righteous vigilantism, half-baked metaphor and of course, at least one literary reference.

Summary: Diego Hargreeves, aka The Kraken, is secure about few things in life; one of those things being his vigilantism. He’s a hero. Until he meets a fighter who shares the same hobby, albeit with different methodologies. Diego isn’t quite as certain about her, but her mysterious abilities make him think he and his siblings aren’t the only ones in this world with power. If only she and Diego could just stay out of each others’ hair. It’s a good, old-fashioned ENEMIES TO LOVERS, lads!

Link to my playlist of songs that inspired this fic: here

NOT MY GIF

----

You wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. That was rule number one. Hell, if you could get away with it at all, you wouldn’t hurt anyone.

But Mr. Adler hated children. And he had made it his mission to not understand you. To regard you with the utmost disdain. And unfortunately for you, Mr. Adler had married your mother when you were six years old.

You had never known another father. Your mother refused to talk about the circumstances of your birth, or of the man who had supposedly been responsible. The lack of identity loomed like a large question mark over certain portions of your life.

And Mr. Adler, that loud, controlling lout, was not about to fill that void.

When you were in elementary school, you began to feel like you were different from the other children. Watching them carry about their days with their steel-pressed pop culture lunch boxes and not a care in the world. While you sensed your music teacher’s sadness when her cat had died. You could feel every anxiety that passed through your classmates on the day of a spelling test. You didn’t know why you could feel these things. You just could.

Prominently above them all, you could feel Mr. Adler’s hatred for you, like a thick, toxic wall every time you passed through your front door and into what was supposed to be your sanctuary.

He shouted at you for inane things, like the pantry door being left open, or the fact that your mother was tired after cooking dinner, insisting you never did enough to help. As a child of eight, what did he expect you to do? You kept your room clean, cleared and set the table, helped your mom water the plants in her garden. What more could Adler want from you?

Still, Mr. Adler’s hate for you colored your every interaction with him, the world you saw him through tinged with an orange-red lens of rage.

You had never tried expanding upon your grasp of others’ feelings until you had witnessed a boy in your class push your pigtailed classmate, Annabelle, down on the playground. Anna’s shock, fear and sadness had bitten into you from the other side of the sandbox like an unwelcome spider bite, sudden and itchy.

It didn’t sit right with you. To you, how was this boy any different from Adler? Reigning terror over someone else just because he thought he could. You’d recognize that red-orange tinge in another person anywhere.

You stood, marching over to the boy, gripping his wrist firmly in your stubby, grubby fingers. Quick as a flash, you were met with every emotion this boy had ever felt -- annoyance at Anna (she wouldn’t share her toys. How selfish, the boy had thought); anger (how dare you grab him!); and finally, prominently, fear.

Fear looked different for everyone, you had noticed. For some, like this boy, it was an ugly green, so like jealousy. For others, like Adler when he’d been drinking, it was an inky black you could drown in. Fear was clearly the strongest. You knew that now.

You gripped the boy’s fear in your own mind, pushing it to the forefront until he began to cry, his eyes welling with the sudden fear he couldn’t understand.

“You won’t do that again,” you said. Turning to Anna, you offered a hand to help her up, but she just shook her head, pigtails flying, and scampered away from you.

Your teachers were clearly afraid of you after that. Could sense that something wasn’t right. Anna? You thought she’d be grateful ... but the chilly pale yellow of her fear, and everyone else’s, followed you wherever you went.

Fine, you thought. If they wouldn’t be grateful for what you could do, you may as well help yourself.

From then on, you exploited your teachers’ happiness -- pop quizzes became less frequent. Everytime they wanted to scold you for incomplete homework, they were left grasping at straws and with the daze of an emotion they couldn’t name.

Adler hated you for it.

“I knew there was something wrong with you,” he sneered over your mother’s weeping objections. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.”

Once you reached 18, you left for the neighboring bustling metropolis and didn’t look back. The world was full of people like Adler, like the boy in the sandbox, like your teachers, who tried to use their own fear to feed their hate, to exploit others. To exercise false power over them.

Well, you wouldn’t have it. If it meant a few of those assholes got hurt, well, so be it.

You lived like that for years. Until --

---

"I hope you choke on it," you hissed, watching the smoky black tendrils slither their way around the man, constricting -- bringing him to his knees, hacking and gasping. "I see your fear, I feel it all. You deserve this, you know you do," you lectured, advancing toward the man, your hands raised.

He was seconds away, you knew it-- and then one more scumbag would be off the streets for good ...

Things were going your way, you were in your favorite position in an altercation-- you know, the one where you had the upper hand? Everything was coming up you, until--

Your ears were met with a whizzing noise mere seconds before a sharp, shiny something nicked your cheek and lodged into the wooden beam just past you.

Your gaze left the piteous man before you long enough to see what looked like a small, but dangerously sharp, knife embedded in the beam. You reached up and plucked it from its resting place, spinning it in your palm before catching the hilt in a clutching grip. You turned to see where it had come from, your eyes catching a dark blur flipping from the fire escape of the opposite building, before said blur landed at your feet.

Standing at his full height, the blur-- no, the Kraken himself-- towered above you.

You had to admit, the stories didn't do him justice. Standing before you in head-to-toe black and a harness replete with shimmering, twinkling edges and danger, you could've sworn he was your knight in shining leather. His cropped hair and facial scars gave him the air that he was every bit as sharp and deadly as the many blades that adorned his body. His oilslick eyes so like mirthless pits of danger, daring to suck you beneath their surface. He was, in a word, imposing.

Regarding you from behind his Venetian domino mask, he spoke, "Miss I'm gonna need you to drop the knife and let this man go."

You snorted.

"You're joking, right?" Not giving him a chance to respond, you chuckled as you swung at him with the hand still holding what you now knew to be his blade.

You'd give credit where it was due, Diego Hargreeves, aka Number Two, aka the Kraken, was every bit as fast as they'd said. In this regard, the stories and Umbrella Academy-related media hadn't been wrong.

Diego dodged your swing, bending his body back before twirling around to strike at your torso, like a snake, with his heavy, hammered fist.

The hit knocked the wind out of you, effectively breaking your concentration, and, devastatingly, your connection with the previously fear-choked man cowering in the alley behind you. As you recovered from Diego's hit and swung around to check your quarry, you could only watch as he shook himself from your fear-induced trance.

He scraped and scrabbled to get up off his knees as Diego shouted at him to "Go, just get out of here!"

You snarled and swung a well-aimed high kick at Diego's head, connecting with just enough of his jaw to drop him. As soon as your proverbial window opened, you turned from Diego to run after the man. But even grounded from a blow, Diego was formidable. He shot his arm out and snagged your ankle, yanking you to the ground.

The gritty pavement scraped your palms as you attempted to catch yourself on your way down, growling as you glanced up to see that loathsome cockroach of a man slip out of the alley, huffing as his bloated legs carried himself far away from you.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder to see Diego righting himself as he stood up, looking down at you before shrugging, offering you his hand.

"Not a chance," you scoffed, knocking his hand away. You rolled slightly back, arched up, and used your hands to help you spring as you lept to your feet in one smooth movement. You landed with a thud of your boots, your feet spread apart, and arms raised in a boxer's stance.

Diego had the decency to look slightly surprised at your obviously-dangerous athleticism. He shook himself slightly as he regarded you.

Besides, he thought, taking in your stature, it's not as though you were any match for him. No way.

"Why would you get in my way, Umbrella douche?" You bit out harshly, glaring daggers at the knife-wielding Kraken.

"Come on, hot stuff," Diego shrugged. "If you know who I am, you gotta know it's not like I can just let you mug that man with … well, whatever you were doing to him." What he had seen you do in the alley seemed to be catching up with him as he cocked his head and queried, "What exactly were you doing to him, by the way? I mean, other than hurting a civilian?"

"A civilian?" You spat. "You don't know what you're talking about, do-gooder. If you knew what he was, you wouldn't be defending him so staunchly."

“And what was he?” Diego pressed.

“That dickless fuckhead would-be-rapist isn’t worth the shit on your shoe,” you snarled. “And you let him get away. Nice job, hero,” you sing-songed the last word mockingly, taking advantage of Diego’s lowered guard to level a swinging hit to his nose.

Your punch landed with a satisfying crack, Diego stumbling back, shaking his head.

“What in the ever-loving FUCK is wrong with you, lady?” Diego shouted.

“Take your hits like a big boy. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of ‘Big Deal?’ ” you asked, advancing toward Diego, fists raised.

“Honey, my reputation precedes me for a reason,” Diego quipped back, blocking your next swing and making one of his own toward your gut.

The two of you sparred in the alleyway, whirling and spinning in a very violent dance between two unwilling partners -- Diego, clearly pulling his punches, while you were obviously preoccupied with your rage at your escaped quarry.

Diego flipped and spun and swung his fists with a speed that bordered on unnatural. His jabs and kicks annoyingly landed, as you were really only able to block just about every other hit. Fuck him for being so fast.

So it was true, you thought, the superpower hype was real. Well, two could play that game.

At Diego’s next hit, you caught his fist, allowing the contact to create the connection you needed, feeling for Diego and any underlying emotion that would be his undoing, before latching onto your favorite-- past the overstuffed confidence, you tasted simmering rage. Beyond that? A tiny prickle of … was that??…Ah, yes, the stinging, burns-so-good zip of lust... File that one away for later … and beneath it all lay Diego’s stammering, stuttering, suffocating fear.

You dug your proverbial claws into it once you found it, bringing it to the surface, manifesting it into your signature smoky tendrils.

Drag them down with their own fear.

Diego’s eyes widened as he looked down to see his legs wrapped in what looked like snakes. Suddenly, his worst memories of fearful days under his father’s tyrannical reign were the only things in his brain. The shouting proclamation his own inadequacies in his father’s too-posh voice pounded within his skull. It was all he could think about -- Your presence before him seemed to dwindle, he couldn’t focus on you, try as he might-- when he was overcome with the feelings of every bad memory he had ever suffered through bearing down on him like the crushing weight of the ocean, pulling him under with the riptide of his own panic and inadequacies.

What the fuck was this shit?

He pushed through his sudden indifference toward you to regard you, the woman stood before him. Diego’s fist clenched as he took in your own grip clutching around his wrist. Your eyes were closed as your face was screwed up in concentration.

Repulsive. You were repulsive, he suddenly thought. How could he have cared so much about hurting you when his own terror and agitation sat heavy on his tongue, like ugly curdled cream?

But he hadn’t always felt this way-- not his usual modus operandi, was it? So what was this? Was this-- you?? Was this what you had done to that man?

Diego began to dredge himself through his own agitation, past his father’s lilting abuse… through the mire of never-quite-being-enough against Luther... dragging his proverbial feet through a bog of his own self-hatred. Just long enough to wrench his wrist from your grip, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning around, slamming you probably a little too hard into the wall behind him. Your eyes snapped open as your head made a minor thwack off the alleyway-- you had just enough time to tilt your head to the left as Diego brought one of his knives down, driving it into the wall a sliver from the space your face had previously occupied.

Diego bore his weight on his toes, leaning his imposing height into and over you, panting and snorting heavily through his nose. You looked at his eyes behind his mask-- hardened flints of pissed-off-superhero glared back at you.

“W-wh-What the F-f-UCK was that?” Diego spit, lip curling over his teeth in a gruesome snarl.

A fleeting flicker of shame passed through you. He hadn’t really done anything to deserve that, had he? Before you shook yourself out of it-- No! He let that rat-faced motherfucker get away!

You fixed your face into an impassive mask of your own before you chirped, annoyingly, “What was what?”

Diego chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh. How did you do that?” Diego pressed, leaning even closer to you, if that were possible.

“Do what?” you chimed innocently, tilting your chin up, eyes meeting Diego’s from beneath your lashes. Maintaining your feigned ignorance.

“Don’t do that,” Diego snarled. “Don’t play dumb. I think we both know at this point-- you’re alot of things, and dumb isn’t one of them.”

“You’d know all about playing dumb, wouldn’t you, pretty boy? Or for you, is it not really playing?” You reached up and ran a finger along his sharp jaw before tweaking his chin and dropping your hand back to your side. You sighed at Diego’s stone face. Honestly, it was so boring when they didn’t bite back.

“I don’t know what to tell you, cutie pie. I can’t help it. People are just drawn to me,” you quirked an eyebrow. “Or repulsed by me. I really haven’t decided.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him, ever the pretty picture.

Diego leaned further into you, pressing your back further and further into the wall. All the while, his leather-gloved grip creaked around the handle of the knife he’d plunged into the wall next to your head as he gripped it tighter.

“Huh,” he mused, scoffing at you lightly. “Ya know something, doll? I just don’t fuckin’ buy it.”

“Babe, if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask,” you smirked as the stone face slid from his features and gave way to "surprised face."

“Honestly, honey,” you slinked up Diego’s body, propping yourself onto your toes and brushing his lips ever-so-lightly with your own as you spoke into his mouth, “Did you really think you and your reject siblings were the only ones in this whole wide world with a little … taste … of power?” you purred.

Ah, you thought, and there it was.

The warming, zinging hum that your ability recognized as Diego’s lust crept through your fingertips that were currently resting on his chin. You were sure if you took the time to analyze exactly who was feeling what, that this feeling of craving wouldn’t be as one-sided as you’d otherwise have hoped. Diego was, you had to admit, very pretty -- for a man.

The swirling galaxies in his midnight eyes regarded you with confusionangerwant. Had you really just -- kinda kissed him?

You took advantage of Diego’s surprised state to knock his grip from your shoulder and shove -- hard. Diego toppled back, and you took off as fast as your enhanced body would carry you, cutting down the alley and away from your fascinatingly frustrating new rival.

Diego took in your retreating form from his final resting place in the disgusting alley’s concrete. Slamming his fist into the rough-gravel ground, groaning out his frustration and anger.

You were gone.

What were you?

Were you really like him? Like the others?

---

Diego shuffled into Hargreeves Manor, determined to see who else was around. Surely they, or Pogo, would know if there were others like them out there. Had he been the only one to run into one? Was it all a hoax?

As he wandered into the cavernous, but simultaneously stuffy, living room, sure enough-- there was Klaus, sprawled across the couch, arm slung over his face in a restless nap.

“Klaus!” Diego barked, startling the spindly man from his perch on the couch and onto the floor.

Klaus looked balefully up at his brother from his spot on the carpet. “Jeeeesus, Diego, really? What do you want that made that necessary,” Klaus grumbled.

“Have you seen Pogo?”

“I haven’t seen anything but the back of my eyelids for the last several hours, thank you very much,” Klaus replied, “Although, I did have a very good dream about running into an old friend of mine in the grocery store. He was always so convinced he was straight. But I think the rest of my dream calls bullshit.” Klaus chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, whatever, man. I need to talk to Pogo,” Diego stressed, turning to leave the living room.

“Well, wait, wait, wait. What is so important?” Klaus queried, clambering up and lumbering across the room to catch Diego’s arm.

Diego sighed, facing his brother.

“Do you think … Do you think we’re the only ones like us?” He asked.

“Well, there’s no one like you, brother,” Klaus chuckled, taking on a rumbling, Diego-esque mocking tone, “I’m Number Two!” He cackled to himself for a moment before coming back to himself with a sigh. “And honestly, we all know I’m an original. So I’m not sure I take your meaning.”

“I mean… it couldn’t just be the seven of us, right? There’s a lot of other people in the world… it just makes sense others could do things like what we can?” Diego pressed.

Klaus started. He had never seen this look in his brother’s eye before. The unhinged mania of a fight? Sure. Crushing doubt? Obviously. But not this … fierce certainty buried beneath a question. This was new for Diego. He must be serious.

Klaus blinked, regarding his brother, before slowly nodding. “I mean… sure… theoretically, there could be others. But I don’t know any. Why? Did you find someone?”

Diego drew in a breath, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal to Klaus. After all, you were his nemesis. His pain in the ass. His whatever you were.

Diego crossed the room again, back to the couch Klaus had previously occupied, before sitting down in a creak of leather and clink of blades still strapped to his harness. Propping his elbows on his thighs, he placed his head in his hands.

“I don’t know. I think so? I found her while I was out patrolling, and I … I don’t really know how to describe what I saw.”

Klaus placed himself next to his erstwhile sibling, tucking his feet beneath himself as he sat, reaching up to pat Diego on the shoulder.

“There, there, big guy. Just… tell me what happened,” Klaus crooned.

Diego launched into the story of finding you in the alley, choking the man with your smoke without even laying a hand on him. He described to Klaus how the two of you had fought, and how you had called the man a “would-be-rapist” before knocking Diego to the ground and making your getaway.

“Well, she sounds hot.”

“Helpful, Klaus,” Diego deadpanned.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, sweet Dee?” Klaus chimed at the end of Diego’s story. At his brother’s nonplussed look, Klaus continued. “She’s just like you! She likes to put on her Batman underoos and fight crime,” he chuckled. “Even if she is like… us… she clearly can do something different. But I think the most telling thing is how obviously into her you are.”

Diego sputtered, “Wh-what?? I am not into that … psycho. Whatever she can do, that’s all I want to figure out.”

“The lady doth protest too much,” Klaus sing-songed. “Whatever you say, brother. But I think the only way you’ll really figure it out is if you run into her again. I mean, we know dad had his secrets. If he knew about other powered children, don’t you think the Umbrella Academy would’ve been a lot bigger? The world is a big place. I’m sure there’s more out there, but, um… we just didn’t know about it until now?”

Diego sighed deeply. “Oh, joy,” he muttered. Ignoring the tinge of excitement that passed through him at Klaus’s suggestion he seek you out.

Klaus clapped his hands joyously, cuffing Diego’s shoulder, shaking him.

“A nemesis, Diego! How sexy! How exciting!”

---

Your encounter with one of the Umbrella Academy had left you slightly shaken, to say the least. You were so careful when you went out. No one missed those assholes you took care of. Honestly, you were doing the city a favor.

Patrolling on any given night would yield one or two men who were plotting something less than savory. And all it took was a brush of skin to determine their true intentions.

You sighed angrily, ripping off your bodysuit and stomping across your apartment to your shower, yanking back the curtain and twisting the knob forcefully.

Hot water began to pour from the showerhead, steam filling your bathroom. You regarded your reflection in your bathroom mirror, a distinctly palmlike-bruise adorned your shoulder from where Diego had clutched it, not to mention the scrapes that lined your body from your repeated meetings with the concrete during your sparring.

You met your own eyes in your reflection, regarding yourself as balefulness gave way to venom.

Honestly, that toadlike little nobody had deserved what you were about to do to him. You had watched him from the back of the bar as he had annoyingly pressed his presence onto a poor girl who was just trying to enjoy her drink. Her drink that the toad had slipped something in when he thought she wasn’t looking. He even went so far as to grab her wrist with his stubby little hands. That was the final straw.

You steeled yourself, letting the lustful, rowdy feeling of the other bar patrons that permeated the air like thick smoke take you over. Putting on your best, beguiling smile, you crossed the room and brushed your hand over the man’s bare arm, letting him feel the tingling want that you had absorbed. Simultaneously, you felt everything of his disgusting intent-- the hateful, possessive desire for the girl, the hurt he intended to inflict to trample his own inadequacies and sadness.

Oh, yeah, you were right about this asshole.

He looked up at you, disgusting gaze lingering on you, before forgetting all about his intended prey, pushing back from his barstool and venturing behind you out into the alley.

The rest, as they say, is history. And an annoying vigilante type who had an ass that just wouldn’t quit once encased in black leather just had to rain on your proverbial pain parade.

Diego Hargreeves… Of course you knew who he was. Everyone knew about the Umbrella kids. And you knew the man once-dubbed The Kraken was still doing his best Caped Crusader (sans cape) and kicking ass by night. Annoyingly self-righteous, really, you thought. Choosing ever-so-delicately to ignore the hypocrisy laden in your thought. Is that not, in effect, what you were doing? Albeit with a little more emotional manipulation and bloodshed.

As you thought of Diego, your fingers traced the slim, sharp cut his knife had made in your cheek as it surged past you.

You let the remnants of Diego’s rage that you had felt overtake you, amplified by your own, as you slammed your fist into the small mirror over your sink, letting the shards clatter to the ground around your feet.

Payback was a bitch, and so were you. You didn’t know if Diego Hargreeves was a praying man, but he had better hope to whatever deity would listen that he didn’t run into you again.

You wouldn’t be so kind twice, you told yourself, climbing into your shower and letting the blood and grit from your body swirl down the drain.

---

As luck wouldn’t have it, your gods were decidedly not on your side. And clearly whatever deity you had mentally implored Diego to pray to was on vacation.

Because you ran into that maddeningly beautiful dipshit, several times over the following weeks. He would do his best to bust up your party, stopping you from exacting your special brand of vengeance. You’d exchange a few quips and blows before running off before he could ask you the question you knew was burning in his mind.

You managed to evade prolonged encounters with Diego until about another two weeks later. Too soon, honestly.

Or not soon enough? God, your inner voice was desperate and annoying.

You encountered Diego again while you were propped against the wall of a seedy dive on the other edge of town, assessing each person as they passed. While your power worked best if you could touch, some feelings were perfectly easy to pick up from a distance.

So far, nothing. Just a few gross, horny bikers and depressive barflies. It was a maddeningly slow night. And you doubted you were needed here.

Just as you were about to call it and head to another hotspot, a familiar prickle passed through you. You glanced up, across the street.

Sure enough, on the neighboring rooftop, perched Diego Hargreeves in the flesh, surveying you like some kind of Great Value Nightwing.

You sighed, pushing off the wall and crossing the street. Diego watched as you clambered up the fire escape to meet him on the rooftop.

“Of course you would be here,” you chastised. “Are you fucking following me? I’ve been a good girl. Haven’t killed anyone in a week. I promise!” You held up your hands in mock surrender, coming to stand in front of Diego’s gloriously firm, leather-clad figure.

“If you say so, Princess. Maybe I’m just here for a drink?” Diego cocked his head toward the shitty bar whose entrance you were haunting mere moments ago.

“Doubtful, Underoos. I think…” you trailed off, circling Diego, tapping your finger to your chin in a pondering gesture. “I think you’re babysitting me. Making sure I don’t do your job for you and clean up the streets too well.”

You ceased your vulture-like circling, coming to stand before Diego. His eyes bore into your own, once again partially obscured behind that stupid mask. As if you didn’t know what he looked like without it. Your eyes weren’t deceiving you when you saw Diego’s eyes flash a quick up-down of your body before resuming his stern visage.

Oh good, you thought. You recognized the latent feelings buried beneath Diego’s anger. A new one brushed over you-- confusion… He still hadn’t figured you, or, more than likely, your power, out…

You weren’t left in suspense too long.

“Tell me about what you can do,” Diego pressed, advancing toward you. You took a step back to maintain some distance… best if you can perpetuate some veil of advantage.

“Ah, ah, ah, baby. It doesn’t work like that,” you chided. “You think I’m just going to spill all of my secrets because why? You’re cute? Try again. Ask nicely,” you smirked, pushing your lips into a tantalizing pout.

Diego rolled his eyes. You weren’t going to play fair? Fine, neither was he. Honestly, his fuse was too-fuckin-short for your shit. He wanted answers, even if he had to beat them out of you. Quick as a flash, he strode toward you, jumping into a flip and kicking you down to the ground upon his landing.

You looked up at him, standing over your body as it lay on the gravelled rooftop, bringing your hand up to touch your jaw, where his boot had collided with your face not moments ago.

You grinned widely, savagely, around bloodied teeth and split lips. "So that’s how we’re going to play? Do your worst, Big Deal. I like when it hurts."

With that, you swung your leg at Diego’s, causing him to topple beside you, where you promptly rolled over, coming to straddle his hips, bringing your hands to his wrists, the direct contact allowing you to bring his fear to the forefront.

Just as you were about to choke him with the smoke of his own fear, Diego surged upright, his arms breaking free from the grip of your wrists, his own hands coming to close around your throat. He squeezed insistently, enough to break your concentration-- the smoke dissipating as soon as it had come. With that, he had managed to roll the two of you over, you flat on your back as one of his thighs came to rest between yours.

You gasped, looking up at Diego with fiery shock looming in your eyes.

“Wow,” you rasped, “I told you before-- if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask.”

Diego removed one hand from your throat, bringing it to his own head and ripping off his flimsy excuse for a mask. He regarded you with nacreous, tarpit eyes that glowed and glittered with the streetlights, his breath coming in ragged, uneven puffs through his sinfully full lips. His cropped hair was glistening with sweat borne equally from the heat of the night and your encounter.

“Baby, I think you owe me an explanation first,” He pressed, squeezing your throat lightly, free hand pulling a knife from his harness that he spun in his fingers while gazing down at you.

You whined, rolling your hips against where his thigh rested between your legs.

“This would be so much more fun if you’d just do things my way,” you pouted at Diego.

“Maybe I would, if you would bother to tell me what your way is,” Diego retorted.

“I could tell you, or I could show you,” you purred, rolling your hips again. “I’m all about more fun.”

Diego sighed. The familiar buzz of lust radiating from your skin-- or was it his own-- that always seemed to hang over your encounters was pressingly prevalent and it was all he could do to not just give in. He gritted his teeth, and shook his head.

“No. Come on. I know what you’re doing… whatever it is. Just … tell me what it is you can do. Tell me why you’re hurting those people,” he implored.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, using your free hands to knock his grip from your throat and coming to a sitting position, as Diego remained crouched over you.

“All you hero-types. You’re no fun. You want to know what I can do? That pleasant little hum you feel? That’s you. Well, it’s me. But it’s you. I don’t make anyone feel what they don’t already… but I can use it against them. That first night at the bar? That,” you shuddered, “That rat was going to force himself on some poor girl. I could feel his every feeling as he was preying on her. I had to stop it. It’s simple, honeybunch. I do what you do, but better. I’ll make them choke in it, their own fear, their self-hatred, their inadequacy, their lust, I’ll drown them in it, and they’ll thank me for it. Because I’m nothing if not merciful,” you gritted out.

Diego’s mind reeled, jaw slack from your confession. He knew it! You were an empath, an enhanced emotional manipulator. Except you seemed to be able to manifest emotions into something tangible, something harmful.

Suddenly, the weight of your confession seemed to crush Diego, you had exploited every feeling of his during your encounters to gain an upper hand. And he hadn’t truly known about it until now.

You felt the surge of his rage, his disgust, his fear with you before he could say it--

“You c-can’t-- you can’t do that,” Diego said. “Kililng people who haven’t even done anything yet? It’s w-wrong. Y-you’re w-wro-wrong,” He stuttered out, clearly distressed, but advancing even further into your space.

“As opposed to you?” You bit out. “You wait until someone’s already hurting or hurt someone else to do something. How are you any better? Who are you to judge me,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“You’re a killer,” Diego pressed, pushing back from you and coming to stand.

“Sticks and stones. So are you. But I don’t hate you for it,” you snarled, jumping into a standing position, squaring your shoulders before Diego’s imposing form.

“You could always work with me,” Diego offered, “ We could take what you can do and just… re-tool it a bit.”

You ground out a harsh laugh.

“Unlikely, you absolutely patronizing dick. You don’t want anything to do with me other than to change me, control me. You’re just like them.”

With that, you unleashed a slew and flurry of attacks on Diego, swinging your hips around to level a kick at his gut, knocking him to his knees, where your arm was ready to strike a heavy blow against his cheek, your rage fueling the unnatural strength behind the hit.

Diego sprawled against the concrete of the rooftop, half conscious after blows you’d dealt him.

You stood over Diego now, looking down at his prone form.

“I would never want anyone who only means to stifle me. To take me apart until there’s nothing left. Never.” You spit a glob of bloodied saliva at Diego’s feet, leaving him in his semi-conscious, battered state-- the guilt only slightly prickling you.

His fear-- choking on half-gasped words from behind the tremulous task of tripping over his own tongue-- followed you like a stuttering stormcloud. It stung. Knowing that he was afraid of you.

---

Okay. The guilt was more than slight.

All he had wanted to do was help, right?

Years alone with your power, the sting of Adler’s rejection as a child, it all weighed down on you like the crushing magnitude of Atlas. You didn’t really want to hurt him.

You sighed, resolute. You just needed to make sure.

With that, you headed out in the storm. Headed toward Diego.

---

The rain pounded on the walls of the Fighting Lion, plunking heavily like half-hewn nails tossed onto the small window in Diego’s back bedroom. He could hear as it landed on the brick, the wet stone and stormy atmosphere making the air thick with the scent of sagebrush and rain.

A kind of whoosh passed through the room, prompting him to turn from where he was folding his laundry on the bed to see you propped against the door, legs crossed at the ankles, looking every bit as if you belonged.

“Wow, Big Deal. Nice digs,” you said as you sauntered in the room, staring at the case at the foot of the bed that was full of Diego’s knives. “Not what I’d expect coming from a dude who hails from the city’s biggest mansion. But still -- homey.”

Diego ignored the jab about his upbringing in favor of the real question.

“How did you get in here?” He asked, seemingly --and to you, maddeningly-- disinterested in your presence as he continued stacking his paired socks into their rightful place in his bureau.

“Uh, have you seen this place? It’s not exactly rigged with ‘Entrapment’ levels of security,” you snarked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Does that make you a cat burglar? Are you Catherine Zeta-Jones in this scenario?” Diego glanced at you from his socks, cocking a strong eyebrow.

“If you want me to be, sweetie,” you shrugged. “But, uh -- and don’t take this the wrong way, Diego, but you don’t exactly have anything I’d want to steal.”

“Then I’ll amend the question. What are you doing here?” Diego asked, finally turning to fully face you, taking in your form as you stood by his bed. The sight causing a pleasantly-unpleasant little something to prickle across his skin.

No, no, it’s not like that, he chided himself. Besides. You were an absolutely monumental pain in his ass. And his head. And basically every other body part of his you came in contact with. Nope, nope... Don’t think about her body parts “coming into contact” with anything of yours, he scolded.

“Aw, well now, Big Deal. Maybe I just missed you?” You mused.

“Doubtful. Did you come back to kick my ass with your freaky little homicidal chokehold some more?” Diego snapped.

Ouch. Maybe you had gone too far in your last little encounter. After all, wasn't that why you were there? To check on your favorite knife-wielding antagonist? To make sure you hadn't actually hurt him?

But what came out instead was--

"Is there any other kind of chokehold?" You hummed, arching your brow.

Before he could stop himself, Diego retorted, “Based on our last meeting, I think you know there is."

Momentarily stunned into silence, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the memory of his hands on your throat, you dropped your arms from where they were crossed at your chest down to your sides, hands flexing nervously. You chuckled.

"Heh. As tempting as that offer is, pretty boy, I only came to make sure I didn't ring your bell too bad."

Diego leaned against his dresser, tilting his head back and looking down his perfect, strong nose at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I must be going fuckin' deaf. Did you just say you slunk in here with your little kitten tail between your legs to say you were sorry?" Diego snorted, obviously pleased with himself as he saw the obvious fluster cross your face.

Okay, now he was pissing you off. You came here with good will and he sasses you? Two can play at that, as you two so often do...

"You must be fuckin' deaf, dipshit. I didn't say I was here to say I was sorry. I did say I wanted to make sure I didn't kick your sorry ass into oblivion. Which, you're obviously fine, so I'll just be going." You crossed Diego's room, breezing for the door.

Honestly, why did you think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Diego caught your arm as you passed him in your hurried attempt at an exit. You gave a half-hearted tug to pull your arm from Diego's grip, surprised to find how firm it was. You turned your head to meet Diego's gaze, throat closing around your sudden nerves. Diego's eyes were molten, boring into you with quizzical questions and low-burning heat. His grip on your arm afforded you an insight into the unique blend that was his confusion and simmering passion.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Come on," Diego drawled. "You clearly know what I'm feeling. But I have no idea what you're feeling. You have me at a disadvantage. I don't like it."

"Every time we meet, I have you at a disadvantage," you snarked. At the brief hurt that flashed across Diego's face, you sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I meant what I said when I told you I was coming to check on you … I just--"

You looked down at your feet, the laces in your boots suddenly incredibly interesting to you. Diego's other hand gently gripped your chin, his thumb pressing into its apex, fingers curled beneath your jaw.

"D-don't do that-- keep going. Tell me what you're feeling for once," Diego implored, eyes meeting yours once more, lips ever-so-close to yours. “Please,” he added, softly.

Had your heart been thudding like this the whole time?? Was your jacket always this hot? All you could hear was the pounding sheet of rain, pressing itself into your brain, growing fuzzier. Diego's proximity to your person was decidedly distracting. Wholeheartedly overwhelming.

Could he really not tell what you were thinking? You were certain at this point it must be written all over your face. Were you not being obvious?? Your burning ardor for him creeping through every inch of your person, drowning your intentions and better sensibilities in anything and everything Diego Hargreeves. You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm feeling-- was feeling … guilty. The last time I saw you.. I h-hit you... pretty hard. So, you win. I guess I am here to tell you I'm sorry." You brushed your fingers softly over the bruise that adorned his prominent, proud cheekbone. "I… I just wanted you to be okay. Because I think you were just trying to help. And that's stupid. It's stupid. I'm sorry," you hurriedly stammered.

Diego relinquished his grip on your arm, allowing his hand to travel down your side until it met your waist. He cocked his head and studied your eyes with his own mercurial ones-- searching for any hint of mistruth in your confession, but seemingly finding none.

After all, he too knew the honesty behind words that struggled to come out.

"You were… worried about me? You?"

"Let's not make a big thing of this, big boy. You're obviously fine. I shouldn't have come… An honest mistake. Won’t happen again," you started to turn your head, breaking his gaze.

But Diego's grip on your chin firmed, forcing you to look at him again before surging forward and crushing his lips to yours.

And, oh, this was bliss-- you were just sure of it. Your yearning manifested itself in the hand you had placed on Diego's cheek, cupping your hands to the sides of his face before dragging them back to thread through the closely-cropped hair at the nape of his neck, then passing your hands up through his longer hair toward the top of his head and tugging. You took advantage of the gasp Diego elicited at that sensation, sweeping your tongue into his mouth.

Your shared lust bled through your connected skin, hands on faces and elsewhere… washing over you both like warm static, a pleasant buzz akin to drinking just a little too much champagne.

Diego’s hands tugged at the hem of your rain-dampened hoodie, tugging it over your head. Your newly-exposed skin prickled with goosebumps at the sudden chill. You had run over here in the rain, after all. Diego’s darkened, honeyed gaze reverently took in your form.

Never one to waste an opportunity, you took the break in action as your chance to respond in kind-- peeling his skin-tight black crewneck shirt from his own gloriously-sculpted body.

The two of you stood, staring at each other’s exposed torsos, ragged breaths dragging through the air of passion so-stifling the room like incense you’ve left burning for too long.

Diego stared at your chest, breasts heaving from behind the scrap of lace that constituted your bralette-- were those piercings that made your nipples poke so prominently through the lace? WIth this realization, Diego felt himself harden. He lunged for you with a growl, scooping you by the waist and dropping you with a bounce onto his bed.

His mouth latched onto your throat, sucking insistently while his powerful hands rested at the edges of the delicate lace trim of your bra, passing almost reverently across your ribcage.

You gasped as he brushed a thumb over your nipple, feeling yourself growing wet beneath your leggings. You hmm’d a whine as Diego’s mouth found that spot on your throat, his thumb still rolling circles over your nipple.

“D-Diego,” you gasped, sucking in air like you’d never properly breathed before.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Take it off,” you glanced down at the scrap of lace that adorned your chest. “Please,” you intoned, sweetly.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Diego said,” creeping his fingers beneath the lace to lift it off your skin. Suddenly, with that preternatural speed he’d come to recognize as a gift of those who were enhanced, like himself, you seized his wrist and squeezed.

“It wasn’t meant to be nice,” you ground out. “Take. It. Off. Now.”

With that, you released his wrist, and Diego gripped the lace where it rested beneath your breasts with this two hands and tugged, ripping your bralette cleanly in two, exposing your tits to his roving gaze.

“There you go, Big Deal,” you preened in satisfaction, taking your own hands from where they had previously been resting along his strong abdomen, trailing them down to the top of his jeans. You popped the button on his fly and began tugging his zipper down, before Diego caught your hand as quickly as you had just done to him.

“I’ve got this, baby,” Diego assured.

With that, he brought his mouth down to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple, taking the hand still clutching your wrist and planting it above your head. He released your wrist, trailing his hand, down your side until it met the waistband of your leggings. He pressed his fingers beneath the waistband, raking his fingers under your panties, to where you wanted him most.

As he dragged a finger through your wetness, you gasped out a keening sigh. Diego’s long fingers working magic against your center, rubbing up and down your slit before pressing one, long finger inside. He lifted his mouth from your breast, pressing it to yours to swallow your moan with a searing kiss.

After a few more moments, Diego slid his finger from your center, retracting his hand from your pants, his other hand coming to meet it, peeling your leggings and panties from you in one fluid motion. You lifted and wiggled your hips to assist him. As soon as the leggings were free from your legs, you wasted no time in wrapping your bare legs around Diego’s waist, locking your ankles behind him and pulling him to you, dragging your hands up his neck and into his hair, hissing in pained pleasure as you rolled your hips against Diego’s still denim-clad hardness.

Diego groaned as he felt your hardened nipples press against his chest, the microscopic bite of cold from your piercings as they touched his warm skin made him sigh.

The room felt like it was bordering on a hundred degrees, the previously champagne-drunk feeling of your shared lust now replaced with a frantic urge to taste and mark every inch of the other as their own.

As you continued to grind your hips into Diego, he kissed you deeply, tongue sliding into your mouth, running along your own tongue and teeth, tasting every bit of your want for him as he succumbed to the heated buzz of the room.

Your power had its benefits, he reasoned, if it meant this would feel so… resplendent.

The mutuality of your shared passion was enough to do you in. You couldn’t be imagining that Diego wanted you as much as you wanted him. If that wasn’t the case, you both wouldn’t be burning like this, writhing atop his bed with pent-up passion and aggression.

Diego broke his hands from where they had previously been digging bruises into your hips, coming up onto his knees to start shucking his own jeans and underwear off.

And oh, he thought, you were a vision. As he looked at you while he stripped himself, he was overcome. Your half-lidded gaze swimming with hazy, unfulfilled promises, swirling lazily like the drizzle of sinfully sweet syrup over something forbidden. Your lips were flushed, swollen and lightly bruised from the punishing pace of your shared kisses. Your wickedly luscious curves and the glimmering slick between your thighs on display for only him. In this moment, he felt he could die under whatever your power would dish out, if it meant he died feeling like this.

Now bared to you in his entirety, Diego positioned himself once more between your legs, his impressive length sliding to where he had guided it along your opening.

You tossed your head back, eyes closed at the glorious feeling of his skin finally meeting yours where you wanted it most… but, still, it wasn’t enough.

“Di- eh - go,” you panted, your glimmering gaze meeting his lustrously darkened one. “P-please, I need it. I need you,” you cried piteously, clutching his shoulders and grinding your hips once more against him.

Diego chuckled, only to happy to oblige. With a guiding hand and a smooth flex-and-thrust of his hips, Diego entered you with a powerful, needed thrust. You cried out, sound going straight to his cock, twitching from its rightful place inside of you.

“There, now, baby,” Diego crooned, bringing his mouth back to yours and humming into your open lips. “Doesn’t that feel ... So. Much. Better?” He punctuated each of his last few words with hard, firm thrusts of his hips.

You nodded, eagerly fusing your mouths together, rolling your hips in kind to meet Diego’s sweet, but punishing thrusts.

“After all that shit you pulled with me,” DIego ground out, “It’s nice to know-- this is what you really wanted. Fuck--” he broke off as you clenched around him just right. “This is what you needed.”

You whined your assent, keening and high-pitched.

“Mmmm, I want y-you, as much as you want me,” you gasped out, Diego’s brutal thrusting brushing your clit with his pubic bone, bringing you ever closer, closer, closer to that teetering edge. You lifted yourself up to balance on one hand and meet Diego’s face where he was hovering above you, your sweat-slicked bodies pressing into one another with a delicious, filthy heat. You looked into his eyes, your jaw slack with the stupidly good feeling of everything he was doing to you.

You turned your head to face his sculpted shoulder, and grazed your teeth there, biting into the apex of his arm. Diego hissed, obviously pleased with the feeling, bringing his hand to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat and tearing your teeth away from his shoulder, guiding your mouth back to his with the pads of his fingers lightly pressing into your airway.

You gasped, the combined feeling of his kiss, his pressing, insistent touch, and his cock inside you brushing repeatedly against that spot of your inner walls causing you to clench, crying out your sudden, gushing release.

Diego guided your head back to his pillow, clenching his fist, the same battered-knuckled boxer’s fist that had previously clutched your throat, now clutched around his bedframe as he hammered his final thrusts, pounding into you until he met his release, groaning as he came down from his sudden, bursting high.

He sighed into your neck, the lovingly sticky heat of your sweaty bodies pressed together as he eased himself from you, pulling you into his side.

You sighed in contentment.

Was everything Diego Hargreeves did punctuated with such beautiful, forthright power?

---

You both lie in the after, bodies pressed firmly together. It would have been romantically intimate had the primary motivator not been the lack of space on Diego's too-small mattress squeezed along the wall in his room.

Nevertheless, you lie there in complete contentment, basking in the afterglow and Diego's delightfully even, rhythmic breathing.

Said lothario had his head turned into your cheek, nose brushing against your hair. His arm around you, curling you to him and trailing his fingers up and down your side at a slow, steady pace.

Why couldn't it always be like this?

After all, fire doused with water still burns brightly at one time, but loses its penchant for destruction, tampered in cool, calming depths and leaving behind cooling steam. So, too, had you and Diego drawn a peaceable, but joyfully sweaty truce.

In that moment, you could see yourself loving him. You know he'd let you, if you gave him enough time and enough of yourself. The man had not had enough love given to him in his life-- he fought for it, tooth and nail. And had come up woefully empty, like clutching at soft sand that slips through your fingers. He'd had the love of his siblings, sure. But this was -- understandably-- different. You recognized a chasm in him that you often thought you'd never mend within yourself.

But he was so deserving of love. Whereas you? Well, the jury was still out.

When you think of Diego, you couldn't help but think of strength. Assuredness. Agility. His aura burned red in your deeper sentiments. Power. You do associate his memory with annoyance, sure, but also a biting wit that he so-oft concealed. And an endearing sentimentality. And an iron will suffused with stubbornness.

You had gleaned some of this from your foray into exploring his emotions, sure. But you don't use your power at every turn. The rest of it was every impression Diego had devastatingly left you with. You had learned so much of him, you yearned to share a piece of yourself, similarly eager for acceptance. Which then prompted you to share--

“You know,” you piped up in the dark, “You remind me a bit of the main character of my favorite books series-- Ever hear of ‘The Dark Tower?’ You know, the legendary Gunslinger?”

Diego scoffed at that.

“Guns are for pussies, real men throw knives,” he stated primly, but still unable to conceal the smile in his voice.

“That sounds a little rehearsed, Big Deal. But I’ll let it slide. Besides, you don’t know what you’re missing,” you acquiesced, turning your head to face him, your noses brushing.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not into all that bookworm stuff. Cuz, ya know, I’m not a fuckin’ virgin,” he chuckled. Obviously pleased with his middle school-grade burn.

You met his eyes, yours widening in mock surprise. “Oh no?” you gasped. “Well, then why do you dress like one?”

Honestly, it had to be some kind of world record, how fast Diego’s face fell.

"I'm kidding, big boy. You know I dig the black leather," you crooned. Ever eager to smooth the waters of this moment, of his now furrowed brow, back to the placid lake it had been.

"You're goddamn right, you do," Diego chuffed, his grin now prominent in his voice.

You looked at him, your eyes travelling between his shining, ochre eyes and his full lips.

"I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye.

“I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind.

"I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart," you recited.

Diego regarded you for a moment before brushing his lips across yours, kissing you warmly.

"What was that?" He asked.

"'The Dark Tower,'" you replied. "What? I like to read. You really do remind me of him. Surly, but just. Lost, but ever-searching. Pinpoint accuracy. Deadly. But hasn't lost hope."

Diego kissed you again, running his hand down your body beneath the covers to grip your bum and roll your body over his, urging you to tarry with him on another burning exploration of one another's bodies.

Yes, you think, sighing as Diego's teeth graze that spot on your neck, his warm palm on your breast. You could easily fall in love with him… if you let yourself. You were probably more than halfway in love with him already.

Oh, no.

---

You awoke to the early-morning sun peeking weakly behind the remnants of fat, overstuffed rainclouds from the night before, purpling the sky as sunlight met grey.

You took in Diego’s, sweet sleeping form-- his long lashes fringing his sweetly-closed eyes, his cropped hair mussed from a night of tugging, rolling, writhing. He breathed deeply, evenly, peaceably, as evidenced by the repetitive motion of his muscled torso, his long-fingered hands resting along his stomach.

You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t taint someone so noble and beautiful with your special brand of poisonous manipulation.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you spoke softly to the sleeping man beside you, coming to sit on the edge of his bed and brushing one hand through his soft hair.

“You wanted to know about my power? It’s a curse. You think I want this? This? It’s isolation, Diego-- it’s eternal damnation. I shouldn’t be able to do what I can do … No one should. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And it dooms me to a life alone,” your voice cracks as your breath catches in your throat, hitching over tears that were now, suddenly pooling in your eyes. “There’s no trust. It’s what I … It’s what I deserve.”

With that, you left Diego’s room. Leaving him to wake alone to a cold one-half of his bed, fingers clutching over air and the warm memories of the night before. He blinked in confusion, the sting of your rejection settling beneath his skin.

---

When you saw Diego again, it was nearly a month after your last… encounter. The sharp knife of anxiety and longing you so regularly felt in yourself since that day, you recognized immediately as emanating from Diego as you watched him limp away from what you assumed was a particularly nasty fight.

“Big Deal!” You shouted across the street and through the darkness.

Diego’s head whipped up, head turning to the direction of your voice, before meeting your gaze. He shook his head, looked away, and kept walking. Away from you.

Ouch.

Honestly, you could understand why he would. You had done the same to him a month ago. Walked away. But the pinging sting of his rejection dug at you, like glass into the thin skin between your knuckles.

All you had ever wanted was for other people to understand. But mostly, now, you realized… You really only cared that Diego understood.

You took off after him, enhanced speed helping you catch up to his limping form outside of a boarded-up, long-closed bar.

“Diego!” You called, stopping in front of him, causing him to halt.

“What could you possibly want with me, after all this time?” Diego spit.

“I.. I deserve that, Big Deal. I do,” you glanced at your boots, scuffing the toe into the pavement. “Please, just… hear me out?”

You looked up at Diego. Really looked at him. His beautiful, tawny skin damp with sweat from a fight, his usually bright and mischievous eyes sunken under the weight of tired bags that sat beneath them. He looked drawn, more exhausted than you remember. You caught sight of a particularly nasty, jagged cut on the side of his neck that had clearly only recently stopped bleeding, the splotching clot like a raised, splintering cut from a large cat’s claws. A particularly nasty bruise was already forming around his left eye and onto his beautifully-sculpted, prominent cheek.

You rushed to meet him, your fingers coming to brush along his cheeks, mindful of the bruise. He closed his eyes at your touch, lashes fanning downward in defeat.

“Who hurt you? What did they do, Big Deal? Who the fuck did this? If anyone hurt you, I would make them hurt. I’ll make them pay”

Diego dropped the knife you now noticed was previously-clutched in his right hand, bringing his hand to meet your wrist.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Don’t do what? Kill the fucker who hurt you? Fine, I’ll just break their knees--” you started, before Diego shushed you.

“No,” he said, “Shut the fuck up. D- Don’t act like you give a shit. Someone who gives a shit wouldn’t bounce for a fuckin’ month. Not after a night like that.”

Your hand left Diego’s face.

“I… I deserve that,” you said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” And with that, you plopped yourself onto the pavement, sitting on the sidewalk at Diego’s feet. Annoying? Sure. Dramatic? Sure. But if something is stupid and it works, then it isn’t stupid.

Diego sighed at you, rolling his eyes before coming to sit beside you, gasping out in pain and clutching an obviously bruised rib or two on his way down.

“Fine. Tell me what the fuck happened. Why’d you go?”

“Diego--” you started… “I-- I can’t be with someone when I’m like this. It never works,” you confessed.

“Like what?” He pressed, bringing his hand to your knee.

“I’m-- I’m a monster,” you cried. “Adler knew it. Everyone I meet knows it. It’s only a matter of time before you know it too. I just… I don’t know how to stop.” The tears you thought you could hold at bay were now creeping up and causing your throat to close around your words of contrition.

“You’re not--” Diego began, but you silenced him with a harsh wave of your hand.

“You don't understand. You wanted to know how it works? I’ll tell you. The power works based on the other's emotion, sure. I amplify what they feel. Cripple them with it, even. But that's not all… it only works, really works, if it's something I can draw on. They feel what I want them to feel-- because I feel it too …" you admitted. “Everything I ever do to someone else I can only do because I know how it feels. If I want someone to hurt, they’ll hurt… I -- I don’t want to do that to you, too.”

“You won’t. Not with me,” Diego pressed.

“And how can you be sure? Even now, I feel how pissed you are at me for leaving. It’s humming beneath your skin. I can feel it.”

Diego nodded, picking up the knife he had previously dropped and beginning to spin it around in his hand.

“I know it because I felt it. When we were together,” he sighed. “We both, we both can do these things. Anyone else would piss themselves if it was turned against them. But you look the danger of what I am in the face, and you laugh. When we’re together, we’re matched. The way that room felt? I know what that was.”

You sat, stunned at Diego’s read of the situation.

“I take back what I said the first night we met,” you said. At the question in his eyes, you continued, “You’re not dumb. That was… that was… something. But I know how to flex my power. I know what fells all men. Fear is a powerful emotion."

Diego smiled at you.

“I hate to break it to you, princess, but I’m not scared of you. I know you think I am, but I’m not. And you know what's even stronger than fear? Love."

You looked at Diego, blinked. He blinked back. You then turned your head with a mocking, retching, gag.

"Jesus, Big Deal. They teach you ‘Hokey Catchphrases 101’ at Dysfunctional Superhero Camp?"

“Hey,” he jostled your shoulder with his. “You know I’m right.”

You stood, offering Diego your hand.

“Come on, big boy. Walk me home?”

Diego acquiesced, coming to stand with a stifled grunt.

“You’re lucky I heal quickly.”

With that, the two of you walked down the street. You matched Diego’s stride, mindful of his injuries. As you walked side-by-side, your fingers brushed. Before you could stop yourself or think better of it, you took Diego’s hand.

When you reached your door, you turned to Diego, fiddling with your keys.

“Everyone’s distinct, you know? Everyone feels differently. Wears their hearts on their sleeve, so to speak. But with everyone, it’s a different emotion. Some flaunt pride. Some are more passive. Do you want to know what I feel when I see you?”

Diego glanced down to where your hands were still joined. He brought them up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I want whatever you’ll tell me. You’re such an open book,” he admitted sarcastically. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, I’m being serious here. You feel... you feel...”

At Diego’s urging look, you continued.

"You feel like warmth. Like I could wrap myself in you and never feel the biting cold of my heart again. And when you're not around? The absence of you is worse than any feeling I could ever exploit. I hate it when you aren't here."

Diego stared at you in silence for a moment, before he spoke, “I really think you should open the door now and let me take you inside.”

You smiled, pleased that your honest confession had gone over well, the smile morphing into a smirk.

“As you wish, Big Deal.”

And in the morning? Well, In the morning, you and Diego were still wrapped up in one another.

You looked into Diego’s swimming, honey-and-tar eyes, tracing your palms down the sides of his jaw and cupping his cheeks as you told him, “You have my whole heart. It’s yours -- crush it, hold it, bury it in whatever you feel ... Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care. Just say you want it-- that you want me.”

“I want you.” With that, he kissed you deeply.

---

You were a master of emotional manipulation. To do that, you had to have a decent handle on your own emotions. For years, you’d rested on your own laurels of your mastery of self, indulging only in the most passing of forays into others’ feelings for the sake of your own.

So why on Earth were you so fucking nervous? Why couldn’t you get it under control?

Yet, here you were, hand in Diego’s, fingers laced, on your way to Hargreeves Manor to meet his siblings, months after your mutual confessions of want. The two of you had been inseparable.

Diego clearly sensed your unease, because he turned to you, squeezing your fingers in his own, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“They’ll like you,” he promised.

“How can you be so sure?” You worried, trying to keep all of them straight in your mind based on Diego’s stories, anecdotes and descriptions.

“Because I like you, and they love to annoy me. So they’ll definitely want to buddy up,” he chuckled with a shrug. “Baby, you’ll be fine.”

With that, you found yourself standing in the ornate living room with five nonplussed persons who introduced themselves to you one by one.

As the largest of the group approached you, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Luther,” you said, pumping your arm in a handshake where his hand comically dwarfed yours.

Luther blinked. “How did you know?”

"Easy,” you said, “You look like a 'Number One.’ "

Luther straightened, obviously pleased. "Important?" he asked.

"Self-important."

This caused the lithe one with the smudged eyeliner who had introduced himself with a wink as, “Klaus, darling,” to howl with laughter.

“She’s fuckin’ got your number, Luther,” he gasped out between his chuckles. He turned to the seemingly-empty air beside himself and said, “I know! She is fun!”

The group found itself sitting around the living room on the various, overstuffed furnishings, in a fun little Q-and-A circle, which was only getting easier all the time, as you found the Hargreeves siblings’ obvious bond to be so endearing. The glamorous one you knew to be Allison had queried about your power, curious as to how you and Diego had met.

Diego had recounted your first meeting to the group, and proffered an explanation of your powers with, "She takes the idea of 'wrapped up in your emotions' and makes it literal."

“And how did this come about?” Klaus queried, gesturing his long fingers between you and Diego. “It’s not like that first meeting was full of warm-and fuzzies.”

“I don’t know … We’ve … run into each other a few times,” you offer with a shrug and a shy grin.

Klaus clapped his hands, a large grin adorning his face.

“Oh-ho! I like this. Diego’s girlfriend beats the shit out of him on the regular!” Klaus happily sang to the massive living room. “Or is that how you two, you know, keep it exciting?” he intoned to Diego in what must have been the world’s loudest and worst attempt at a whisper.

“She does not beat the shit out of me,” Diego protested, rolling his eyes at his brother’s swaggering antics.

“Right, right, you beat the shit out of each other. Honestly, I get it. Kinda hot. No judgment from me, you crazy kids,” Klaus smiled and held up his hands in surrender, flashing you the “Hello” and “Goodbye” on his palms. “Diego told me about you the day after you first met. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it myself when I’m ever-so-alone at night,” he added with a wink.

All you could do was chuckle. Who couldn’t love Klaus Hargreeves?

After that, the questioning from the gathered siblings dissipated into a casual little party, with people pairing off to speak in groups of just them, and with drinks from the open bar being passed around amongst the siblings. Even Five. If you were honest, it was strange to see a thirteen-year-old boy drink frozen margaritas. But you’d had to remind yourself that he was actually older than all of you. Honestly, you’d tried not to think about it too hard.

In between drinks, you found yourself engaged in silly banter with Klaus and Vanya, laughing at Klaus’s stories of eating bagels from dumpsters and his bantering memories with their brother Ben. You responded in kind with stories of your own-- making your elementary school teachers believe they’d had crushes on one another by exploiting their repressed desires, making your classmates piss themselves every Halloween with some prank or another ...

While Vanya was a bit more reserved with her amusement, you’d caught a smile playing at her lips. Klaus outright howled.

“Oh, you truly belong here, don’t you? Reggie would’ve haaaated you,” he gestured at the stern portrait of their father. “Which means you’re absolutely perfect for our dear Diego,” Klaus proclaimed, lacing his fingers through your own.

With that, Klaus turned to you with a conspiratorial giggle and hmm'd into your ear, "You know what they say, peaches. 'A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly.' And if we're being honest, Diego deeeeeeefinitely thinks he's fly."

You laughed, choking on your sip of margarita. You’d never felt a kind of discordant unity like this one.

With Diego’s family… with Diego, you felt like you truly did belong.

As you and Diego lay together in bed after the day with his family, he’d asked if you felt comfortable.

“Of course, love.” You pressed a small kiss to the tip of Diego’s nose, nuzzling your own against his. “They were wonderful. You’re wonderful. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

Diego gazed lovingly at you, eyes, a deep, endless pit of an eclipse, brimming with golden honey streaks of mischief.

“I can’t wait to share everything with you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your shoulder and settling beside you comfortably.

Ah. So that’s what that warm, soft, cotton-y, cloud-like feeling you had begun to experience since you’d began your relationship with Diego was ... Comfort. Funny how it blended so seamlessly into the burning, cinnamon-tinged, blooming one you’d come to recognize as his love.

---

Tagging: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @winters-buck @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @ali-cide @fleetwoodmactshirt @stellarkyun @zeldasayer @ayeayecaptaingally @nappingtopknot @holographic-carmen @mandaloriane @pascalplease @phoenixhalliwell @white-wolf-buckaroo @melon-eyes @pancakepike @noturjacky @johnc0nstantine @amarachoren @outrebanx @yespolkadotkitty @agentpike @cryptkeepersoul @netflixandzayn @deadpoolcouldshootme @manchuria @flhorah @halerune @spideymanreads @athousandbuckys @imagining-constantly @dovesgrangers @ravenoussss @pyrosag @rzrcrst

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

I’m Just your problem (But please tell me i’m a winner)

Okay so in my defense of this story, you didn’t actually say who you wanted to be the center of the story. And I kind of got inspired the second I heard the song and just ran with it. It’s a one shot about and staring Lila. So... yeah. Hope you enjoy it though. @abrx2002

I’m the winner!

Lila knew it didn’t have to be like this. It never had to be like this. She didn’t want to bury Marinette in the ground but little Miss Goodie Goodie just couldn’t leave well enough alone. So now Lila had to bury her with just a few words.

She couldn’t been Marinette’s friend. She wanted to be Marinette’s friend. Before even meeting the girl, the entire class had spun a tale of just how fabulous Marinette was. Lila had looked forward to meeting her, becoming her friend, and using her power to rule the class and school together. They could’ve both won. It would’ve been easy.

Too easy apparently.

Because never, not even, once did Marinette want to be her friend. She never even gave Lila a chance. Lila the villain in Marinette’s story as far as the other girl was concerned.

Nice guys finish last.

That’s why I win.

I’m the winner.

The Little princess in pink swore she just didn’t like liars. But everyone told lies, even the perfect Marinette. (Especially Marinette) It was a fact. So why was Lila the one she called out? What was so wrong with Lila that Marinette couldn’t just leave well enough alone.

“Marinette didn’t like liars,” Lila scoffed. “Or maybe she just doesn’t like me!”

Which was a blow to the Italian girl’s pride. Because Marinette liked everyone. She gave everyone chances. Even Chloe! The girl who bullied Marinette and everyone else in class far worse than Lila could’ve considering doing herself. If a spoiled rotten girl like Chloe deserved another chance (and another and another and another) but Lila didn’t get one, how rotten did Marinette think Lila was?

Maybe the lies weren’t the problem like Lila suspected. Maybe the issue was that she didn’t bow and cater to Marinette’s everywhere like the rest of the class seemed to do. They treated her like some goddess.

Is that what Marinette wanted? Did she wanted Lila to worship at her feet? Treat her like she’s perfect like her stupid little friends did? Loyal little lackeys that they are.

Were, Lila thought viciously. A few grand tales, some golden promises and they were at my beck and call. I won.

How’s that for friendship, Maribrat? How does it feel to know the friends you cared so much about turned on you with just a few words. Does it hurt? Does it sting?

Will you finally admit I’m better?

I’m worthy?

That I won?

Am I worthy of your friendship now?

Lila thought Marinette would stop then. After she turned everyone in class against her. Used the faculty’s foolishness to get the Marinette expelled. (Though it was reversed). The girl had lost everything. What was hers was Lila’s now. From bestie Alya, to meek pushover Adrien, to her place at center of class’s love and affection. It was Lila’s now. Because Lila won.

And the Italian girl thought it was a matter of time before Marinette came crawling back. A bit of time before she stopped calling out Lila for lying and just went with it. If she did, then Lila would be benevolent enough to stop accusing her of being a bully, coach the class into re-friending the poor sorry Marinette.

It never happened. Instead of begging and pleading to be Lila’s friend like Lila expected.

Wanted.

Needed.

Admit defeat.

Admit I beat you.

Admit that I won.

Marinette stopped looking hurt at all the nasty words her friends (Ex-friends, Lila thought viciously) were spitting at her, the girl started smiling at her phone, texting, giggling. She hardly ever batted an eye anymore. The only times she called Lila out on her lies was when Lila said anything directly involving Marinette.

She seemed to wash her hands of her classmates. Lila could only watch as she befriended other students from other classes. Classes where Lila had no influence. Friends that didn’t fall easily to little small fibs.

Friends that were smarter that her last ones.

More loyal.

Better.

While the class rightfully worshiped at Lila’s feet now, Marinette moved on to bigger and better things. She played a new game; one that Lila couldn’t win.

It wasn’t fair!

I already won!

Me! I did.

I won!

Student council. Fashion Club. Powered, a club for future female CEOs. She started her own design website. She went on amazing trips and met people Lila could only dreaming of meeting and constantly lied about. Marinette slowly but surely became one of the most popular girls in school.

While I dwindled in mediocrity.

Forced to deal with her stupid ex-friends.

Forced to only lie about things I’ve done.

Forced to watch you do them.

Forced to watch you rise like a star.

Forced to watch you WIN.

Marinette would have rather befriend the entire school, everyone and their entire mother, than to debase herself by admitting defeat and bending to Lila’s whims, getting her friends back in the process. Nope. She rather waste her befriending insignificant morons than be Lila’s friend. It was proof alone how much she hated Lila.

She just used the lies as excuse to cover up the thousands of reason she must’ve hated Lila. Marinette didn’t want Lila to apologize for lying.

She wants me to apologize for not being like her!

Sweet. Perfect. Angelic.

Sorry, that Lila wasn’t made of sugar, spice, and everything. Sorry that’s the stupid reason for anyone to not like someone. To go out of their way to avoid them.

Anyone else would crumble at what Lila threw at them.

They had.

Three. Four. Five. Girls

All were left nothing more than a puddle of tears after I was done with them.

I beat them all!

I won.

But Marinette had gone from those, precious hurt and betrayed faces, to looking at everyone in class like they were just an inconvenience. Like Lila was a minor inconvenience to her day.

But I had won!

I know it!

She can’t just play a new game.

I won.

Every day, she looked through Lila like people look at extra credit math problems in a class your already Acing. She could solve it, put in some minor effort, and fix it but what was the point? Marinette clearly had better things to do than to worry about her ex-friends, her ex-crush, about Lila; minor little problems in her otherwise PERFECT little life.

Lila was just a problem to Marinette. Not a friend, not an enemy anymore, just a stupid little problem. Not even a real person. Just a problem, she couldn’t even be bothered with anymore.

No! Marinette was too busy being elected Spring Queen at the Sweethearts dance.

Too busy on Claude, the star football play, the future Oscar-winning film maker, the most popular guy in school’s arm. The king to her Queen.

And to think Lila had be waiting, patiently, so very patiently, to see the devastated look on Maribrat’s face when she got to the dance and saw…

Adrien and Lila were at the dance, together, as dates; the perfect couple. Marinette was suipossed to be so, SO, heartbroken.

She never batted an eye.

She even told Lila how nice she looked.

And then went on her way. Because Lila wasn’t worth anymore of her time or energy. Like Lila hadn’t taken everything from her.

Like I hadn’t won.

Like I hadn’t beat her.

I did. I know I did.

I beat everyone.

I win at everything.

Marinette just wasn’t playing right.

It was the last time Marinette looked her way the entire night. She was too busy with her perfect friend, her perfect boyfriend, living her stupid perfect life. Being crowned Queen. Lila had broken every mirror and reflect surface in her room. If Marinette didn’t want to look at her problem than neither did Lila.

This wasn’t how winners acted…

After the dance, Lila had tried to get closer to the other kids in school, Marinette’s friends. But they didn’t bat at an eye at her. Had only given the barest looks of amusement, and pity, at her attempts.

It got so bad that Lila almost believed the lie she told the class about Marinette turning the school against her.

Truthfully she knew that Marinette couldn’t have been bothered to. She was too busy. Too busy to worry about the drama in their stupid little class.

Stupid busy for me!

No, she went on her day like Lila didn’t exist.

I exist, damn you.

I’m here.

And I beat you.

I won!

The more she ignored Lila the worst Lila got the class to treat her. Exile her. Got them to get Bustier to get kick Marinette off the school field trips.

Not that it bother Marinette. She just stopped helping fund raise. Went on jaw-dropping trips with her new friends. Ignored the sneers and glares from her ex-friends. Like nothing bother her. None of them matter.

None of them were important enough to matter to her! Lila wasn’t important enough to matter to the great Marinette.

Is this how you treat people who beat you, huh, Maribrat?

You ignore them?

Pretend they’re not there.

SO you can pretend I didn’t win!

Lila wasn’t going to apologize for beating her fair and square. She wasn’t going to stop lying, tell the truth, and beg for Marinette’s friendship. Because what would that really do?

It would be a forfeit.

It would mean I didn’t win.

And really it wasn’t like she did anything wrong, right? If anything Marinette should be thanking Lila for revealing the true colors of her so-called friends, of her crush. Not that Lila was trying to justify anything. Because she didn’t have to.

I won, after all.

Lila won so Marinette shouldn’t be ignoring her in class, right? She shouldn’t act like nothing Lila did phased her. Like Lila didn’t exist. Lila shouldn’t have to be the one to make amends, right?

History is written by the victors.

And I won!

It wouldn’t matter even if she did. Marinette had always hated her, had always been out to get her, had disliked her the moment she laid eyes on Lila just like Ladybug.

Lila had always been on Marinette’s blacklist. And she had done so many things, she couldn’t even remember what landed her there in the first place. It was something stupid, probably. Something so minor, some little lie that Marinette was to uppity to forgive, to let go of.

It was her problem, not mine.

It was all Marinette’s fault, right? It was all her fault! So NO! Lila wouldn’t admit defeat. She wouldn’t stop lying. So why do I want to…

Lila would rub everything she took from Marinette into the other girl’s face. Maribrat would break eventually. They always do. They have to, right? No one could deal with losing so much in such a short while. She’ll admit she was wrong, right? That She should’ve bowed down and accepted Lila as her friend, as the class’s new sweetheart. She’d admit Lila won then, right? Lila beat her. Lila was and is and always will be the winner.

I won!

I beat her.

So there! Lila won, that was it. That was how the game ended and how the story would too. She’d marry Adrien, make Alya her maid of honor just to rub it in Marinette’s face that Lila had everything she ever dreamed of.

Then she’d admit Lila’s won. Because Lila always wins! She already won, after all. Marinette just refused to be a good little loser and admit it…

Lila won.

I’m the winner, right?

#ml salt #lila salt #lila bashing #lila rossi #minor adrien salt #minor class salt #class salt

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thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Mill Boy - F.W.

Mill Boy- Fred Weasley x fem!reader [1800s muggle!au]

warnings: mentions of child labor

word count: 3.4k

a/n: probably part one of a minseries? y/n and fred are about 10-11 in this so part ii could possibly be a timeskip

“Mum, can I go play? Please?” you pleaded, doe eyes shiny and prominent. Your mother, a hard working housewife, was bent over the sturdy kitchen table, dousing dirty dishes in scalding water, preparing them to be piled with the beef warming in the flames of the stove across the airy kitchen.

“Fine, Y/N, just please don’t get your dress dirty. Your father worked hard to afford such a fine cotton. He wouldn’t be pleased to see it ruined, now would he?” You eagerly nodded in agreement, ready to go enjoy the meadows lying across the walls of your humble residence. It was a beautiful spring day, most enticing one yet. Birds fluttered through the lush, brilliant cedar trees, enjoying the tranquil air that comes with the season. Ox-eye daisies dotted the expansive hills, all the way down to the slowly trickling creek.

You slipped your muddied boots over the clean, cotton socks adorning your feet, grabbing your hat to shield your youthful eyes from the golden star above right after. You slipped it over your locks, which were neatly tied into pig-tails with silky, baby pink ribbons Mother bought you for your birthday.

You skipped through the propped back door, little giggles of delight humming through your throat. Any traces of the harsh winter that stormed the land only a few months prior were washed away with the glimmering sunlight, which coerced the wildflowers to bloom from buds to petaled cups of sweetness.

With a smile, you followed a path of vibrant, woolly blue violets, carefully plucking their stems for a nice arrangement to become the perfect centerpiece for dinner. The colour, in your opinion, complimented the pastel pinks of your dress perfectly, filling you with even more glee. How you wished that you could spend all your time out of the confines of buildings, having fun and being free of responsibility.

It was most unladylike to go splashing in the cool water of the stream, and you would surely be scolded for it if you chose to do so. You had attempted to conceal your submersion in the winding brook once before, but the liquidy footprints you left on the floors of your house quickly outed your escapade. Fearing another stern talk, which was not pleasant in the slightest, you simply skipped to its edge, astutely observing its reflective surface with admiration.

The crystalline liquid glossed over smooth stones adorned with moss so peacefully, its pace never wavering, not even for a second. The mere idea of something perpetually in motion, never having to stop and take a break, as you did many times after a long day of running in the fields, chasing butterflies, astounded you.

Everyone had to go to sleep, or stop for a breath every once in a while, right? Scampers, the stray which adored your family’s covered porch, went to bed at odd times, most often at noon. And yet, he still slept. The grocer down the lane kept his shop attended every time you’d visit, but the windows would soon be curtained and dim when the moon came out to rule the seemingly never ending sky.

You prodded the cool creek with your finger, letting the water continue to flow past it unbothered, as if it were nothing but another stray twig. The thirst for answers dripped down from your mind, enveloping your body in a sensation that couldn’t be mended by simply drinking the water. You were amazed, and you had to see more, know more. You followed the bends of the stream, far beyond the view of your house.

Nobody had ever outright stated that you shan’t see where it goes, where the water ends, so naturally you had to discover it yourself. Maybe you’d be met with a secret alcove, your own private pocket of the boundless world. Alternatively, maybe you would stumble across a small house entangled high up in the branches of a tree, and fly up to its entrance like a fairy from a tale recited before bed. Or even, most enticing of all, maybe there was a prince waiting for you where the water ends; a prince who’d sweep you off your feet, offering you a chance to live in a magnificent castle situated in a far away land.

You hummed songs that your frilly-dressed peers would chime in unison during recess, filling the still air. The toes of your boots leaped from one large rock to another, balancing on their flat surfaces like a game of hopscotch.

The soft, sweet humming echoing through his cove from a ways down the creek instantly perked Fred’s curiosity, luring him in like a siren’s song. He halted his stick-poking of the ants inching up the burly trunk of the ancient tree, swinging his gingered-head down, so his vision lay unobscured by the low-hanging branches.

No one ever came to visit Fred when he lay slouched in the safe, knotted branches of his tree; whether it was because his family couldn’t locate him or the fact that they were aware that he needed a break, he didn’t know. Days spent in the mill were painful and excruciatingly long, so during the few spare moments he had to himself, he’d spend it talking to the lush wildlife surrounding him. He’d never be talked over by the weeds or birds, they’d just sit and listen, exactly what he needed.

He nearly fell to the grassy ground trying to find the source of the melodic songs, curious to see who dare disturb the previously hidden Fort Fred. He imagined himself as a skillful militiaman, like his brothers, ready to charge and overtake the enemy, even if the music-maker was nothing near a threat.

Just as he was about to jump down to investigate on his own two feet, the source was finally revealed. An absolutely beautiful girl- a princess, rather, approached the tree. She was dressed in a light pink gown, as if she had just come back from a royal ball. Her singing brought serenity all around, as if she were somehow communicating with the birds and butterflies, allowing them to chirp and flutter along. At the same time, however, her well-loved boots and hat altered her look to something of a daring adventurer, exploring the unknown paths of thicket.

“Hello,” you said angelically, clasping your hands together across your waist. You were completely surprised to meet a companion on your previously solo expedition, and a dashing, amiable one at that.

You’d never seen this particular boy at school before; he seemed different than all your icky male peers. The boys at school would tug on your pigtails during tests, claim you were infested with disgusting germs at recess, and chase you around the yard tauntingly. But this boy’s features resonated nothing but kindness: the crinkles around his eyes from smiling, light orange freckles all across his nose, his shaggy, fiery red hair topped with a patched-up flat cap.

Maybe there was a prince at the end of the brook after all.

The friendly-appearing boy hopped down from his perch in the tree, smoothing out the wrinkles and leaves in his suspendered trousers and white button up with a suspicious look. “And who would you be, miss?”

“Erm- my name’s Y/N. What’s your’s?” You couldn’t help but smile, and your cheeks prickled as if a ladybug were crawling across them.

He stepped closer to you, his composure open and honest. “I’m Fred, Fred Weasley. I live down the way, near the mill.”

“Nice to meet you, Fred Weasley.” You did a proper courtesy, just as you had been taught so many times before, then adding, “what’s a mill?”

Fred’s jaw dropped, as if it had no hinges. “You’re joking, right? You don’t know about the mill? I work there just about every day of the week.” He pointed further down the creek, opposite the direction of your house, astonishment swimming in his mahogany brown eyes.

“I’ve never heard anything of the sort. What do you do in a mill, exactly?”

“Well, there’re these big, loud machines that're always moving. They get power from this huge wooden wheel upstream that’s always spinning. They make tons of pieces of fabric out of wool. Maybe I even weaved some of the cloth used to make that very dress you’re wearing right now.”

You marvelled at his descriptions, even the simple way he spoke, articulated his words. Those utterly despicable boys at school would’ve just stuck their tongues out at you disrespectfully, not giving you the time of day, but Fred couldn’t be more different. He spoke to you as if you two were something of equals.

“Oh wow.” You were barely able to suppress a flustered giggle. Why were you feeling so, mushy around Fred, the sensation comparable only to the consistency of porridge? “I didn’t know you were so talented to do that.”

“Aww,” -he blushed, scratching the nape of his neck- “I mean, it’s not too difficult, you could probably do it if you tried. After a while ‘course.”

“Nonsense.” You not-so-nonchalantly rubbed your palms up and down your dress, noticing beads of perspiration accumulating on them. While doing so, the bushel of hooded violets resting in your pocket became evident. You pulled one from your stash, saying, “do you want one of my flowers? I picked them down near my house.”

Fred swore at any moment, if anything were so much as to touch him, he would burst. He’d never experienced these, admittedly strange, feelings before. It felt like his last meal wouldn’t settle in his stomach, or as if he’d just run a horse’s distance by the way his heart was pounding out of his chest. Was he sick? Should he go tell mum?

“I, erm, of course,” he stuttered, barely capable of moving his lips to form coherent words. “You have e-excellent taste in flowers, miss Y/N.”

“Thanks. I picked plenty, for a nice centerpiece at home. Mum always loves flowers.” You fiddled with the frills and layers of your dress, doing something to occupy your energetic fingers. Fred studied the flower intently with his brows furrowed, tugging on its petals and anthers.

After Fred was satisfied with his examination of the violet, he said, “you know, there’s some really pretty yellow flowers growing down by the mill. They’d go perfectly with these here.”

“Will you take me?”

“Of course I will. We’d best get going, though. Don’t wanna miss dinner.” Fred gestured for you to follow his lead, walking through the knee-high blades of grass as if he were wading through a river. When he quickly noticed your look of apprehension, not wanting to dirty your dress or have an unwanted animal encounter, he grabbed your palm with a grin, forcing you to trail behind him.

You two distantly followed the path of the creek, adventure flowing through both of your veins. Fred’s grip on your hand was gentle, despite the calloused patches scattered over his skin, no doubt a result of the ‘large machines’ he described working on in the mill.

After a while of giggling and jogging, the distant outline of a building across the stream was visible. Its four walls were composed of rough, grey stones used as bricks; it’s roof was sealed with jagged pieces of slate, some out of place. But the biggest surprise came not with the building itself, but to the right of it. A humongous, wooden wheel spun through the rill, rhythmically splashing the previously tranquil water as it continued flowing. It was as if everything today was out of a fairy tale, but this was the most outlandish of them all. A giant wheel, spinning in pace through the water?

“Well, we’re here.” While Fred usually dreaded returning back to the mill, as his time within the confines were never pleasant, tolerable at best, he was glad to be here with company and a different mission. He wasn’t going to be making fabric today, no, he was on the search for bundles of corn-yellow flowers, with the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on. True royalty, a princess through and through.

“Wow. That wheel’s ginormous! How does it work?” This time, it was your mind that curiosity flooded, and it ceased to relent.

“Erm, I don’t exactly know. All I know is that the creek pushes the wheel, for some reason. I’ll ask Dad about it sometime, he’ll know.” You nodded appreciatively, satisfied at the promise of an answer.

“Now what do you say we go find some of those flowers?”

“Yes please!” You started peering around the water’s edge, attempting to spot any signs of cheerful, yellow flowers.

While you continued digging through ferns and bushes, searching for gold, Fred enchanted you from a distance across the shaded meadow. “I think my brother Percy said that the flowers are called Golden Alexanders. He’s one to always go a bit heavy on books during his breaks.”

‘You’ll have to ask your brother how they got their name. The first part’s fairly obvious, the Alexander portion not so much.”

“I’m gonna have to ask everyone in my family questions if I keep showing you new things by the looks of it,” he giggled, walking around the grassy plateau with his hand shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“Teacher always tells me during lessons, ‘curiosity killed the cat’-”

“Poor kitty,” Fred muttered.

“-But satisfaction brought it back. So you best bring me back some answers tomorrow, because I don’t exactly fancy dying.” Fred’s eyes widened with his new, highly-important mission. “I’d at least wish to go out in a heroic way, not at the hands of my own unquenched curiosity.”

“That’s quite the big word.”

“I know, I learned it the other day!” you giggled, covering your toothy grin with your hand. “Isn’t it cool?” Fred responded with a handsome, wide smile and concurring nod. His eyes were filled to the brim with joy; they reminded you of warm evenings sitting around the crackling fire charring logs and embers.

You scourged through the brush for a while longer until the soothing trickling of water was interrupted by Fred’s distinct voice, shouting, “Oh, I think I found some o’er here!”

You skipped to Fred’s direction, the toes of your boots patting the grass lightly. Fred was leaning down over a small patch of Golden Alexanders, watching a few bumblebees buzz between the central stigmas protected in the wreaths of small petals.

Without thinking, you swiftly wrapped your arms around Fred, his back pressed to your chest tightly. “Thank you, Fred. These’ll look great. You’ve got quite the eagle eye.” Your cheeks burned, and your soft arms were swept with tiny goosebumps.

“It’s no problem, really. I’m just glad you’re happy.” You unleashed Fred from your grasp, nearly tumbling to the ground with flusteredness. The porridge-ish feeling was back, and your now-wobbly legs weren’t exempt. “Your smile’s contagious, you know.”

Fred’s reaction to your hug was slightly different, but equal in magnitude. His chest puffed as if it were fluttering with butterflies that would glide low near the grass, his neck, which tingled after your every exhale, was burning like brush, and his breath all but stopped, which he paid no mind to.

To distract himself from the foreign sensations racking his body, he pointed to the revolving wheel sputtering the crystalline, flowing water, saying, “Do you think it's possible for me to climb the wheel? I’d wager I could.”

“You’d be a madman if you did.” You daintily trailed behind him like a curious cat, spying on his actions from afar.

“Then I guess I’ve got to do it.” He stepped one foot on one of the damp wooden beams, which proved successful until the churning of the wheel shook off his balance. He stumped to the group with an ‘ow’, groaning, “Princess, you were supposed to catch me.”

“Sorry,” you cheekily giggled, suppressing your smile with your cupped palm. You looked in all directions but Fred’s to avoid an assumed scornful glare, but instead you were met with a chuckling redhead, his umber eyes screwed shut with laughter.

Childish titter occupied the still Spring air, blending in with the trickling water and occasional melody chirped by a lone sparrow or two. Your fingers intertwined with Fred’s to prevent you from falling backwards into the puddles of sludge strewn through the sunset-soaked blades of grass.

Eventually, Fred could be your stabilizing tether no longer, and you both fell backwards, hands still locked playfully. You started to get up from the soft cushion composed of a plethora of plants before the flat-capped ginger motioned for you to remain relaxed on the ground, the large tufts of your gown and all.

You complied, and before you knew it, you were making out the shapes of pink-hued clouds, improvising tales and fables to enchant Fred with.

“That one looks like a rabbit, doesn’t it?” you would say, or “that one looks like a mule-”

“-riding on a carriage!” Fred finished, giggling in unison with you. As your throat erupted with chuckles, you and the prince beside you clutched your stomachs which were rattling with joy.

After a while of staring up at the deepening sky, you said, “I think I’ve got to go back for dinner, Mum’ll be expecting me.” Fred immediately stood up, quick as a soldier, and he outstretched his arm chivalrously to help you sit up as well.

“I’ll walk you back, don’t worry. Who would I be to let a princess such as yourself brave the wilderness alone?”

“How kind of you, good sir,” you replied with a joking curtsy and exaggerated accent dripping with poshness. Your fingers intertwined with Fred’s again for the second time that day, and this time they felt more familiar, as if you could pinpoint every sun-owing freckle or crease in his pale skin.

Your connected arms swung rhythmically as you both relaxedly walked towards the direction of your humble residence, careful to avoid stepping on dotted ladybugs that scurried through the grass. Occasionally, you or Fred would release a clever wisecrack or randomly twirl, basking in the pink rays of sunshine that gradually depleted, but for most of the trek home, you stayed quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company: a luxury that was hard to come by in Fred’s house of nine.

When your house was finally visible on the thin line of the horizon, Fred’s eyes couldn’t help but light up. Your home didn’t look much different than the Weasley’s, save for its size being half as big. Your chimney wasn’t as crooked and worn by the elements as the gingered clan’s was either, but the young boy didn’t seem to notice. All he could see was an elegant castle suited for no one but the best.

At long last, you arrived on your back porch. The door was wide open, where your mother leaned her aproned hips against the frame with a smile. Wonderful aromas wafted from the kitchen to you and Fred’s nostrils, beckoning you to take a seat at the dinner table and dig in. “Now who might this be, Y/N?”

“My name’s Fredrick Weasley ma’am.” Youthfulness glinted his eyes as he reached his hand to shake your mother’s. “I go by Fred.”

“You’ve got quite the firm shake,” she said, suppressing a chuckle, “I hope you and Y/N had fun today? By the look of her dress, she did.”

Your cheeks burned like a tin fresh out of the oven as you looked down in horror to see brown splotches of dirt strewn across the fluff and frills. “Mum, I-”

“Shh, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” you mother cooed in a whisper, eyeing the oblivious redheaded boy next to you, who was equally smudged with mud but complemented with a sweet, wide-mouthed smile.

“Well, Y/N dear, it’s dinner time. Does your guest Mister Weasley care to join us?”

“No thank you, Miss Y/L/N, I’ve got to be on my way back to my home as well.” Fred pulled you closer to him, so that your chest was mere inches away from his’. A sudden burst of confidence pumped through his veins, and with that, he gave a light pack to your cheek.

Your eyes widened with shock; his lips left a tingly imprint on your nerves as he turned back around towards the creek. I’ll never wash my face again, you thought, cupping your cheek with your palm.

“Bye princess, I’ll see you tomorrow, promise?” he shouted, giving you a final wave.

“Promise. Bye, Mill Boy. See you then!” And with that, he was off following towards the water in which he came, the orange sunlight turning his figure into a fading silhouette.

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@amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

weasley twins taglist:

@horrorxweasley

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

songs that make me think of vampy and why

this is for drea and leyla ONLY thank u

daylight- taylor swift "i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you" bc vampy loves her so much he only wants her 😔 midnight love- girl in red "I know I'm the last one you try to call but I always give in to give you it all" "your silver is my gold" bc miss chiropractor treated him terribly but he loved her with everything and would have gone back to her no matter what watch you sleep- girl in red this one is obvious: bc vampy watches bloodbag sleep :) also "the scar on your spine, you fell off a roof when you were nine" is all appreciating the tiny details about someone and that is definitely something vampy would do :( paper rings: taylor swift "i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this" line without a hook- ricky montgomery "oh baby i am a wreck when i'm without you" bc vampy loves bloodbag so much he just wants to be with her always 😔 dead girl in the pool- girl in red this one is kinda weird but i feel like bloodbag is gonna die at some point and then vampy will just be like "theres a dead girl in the pool (or wherever her corpse is laying slfjskldfjkldsj) i don't know what to do" and then he's gonna make this face

bad habits- ed sheeran bc he was just slutting around before he met bloodbag demons- imagine dragons dont make fun of me for this I KNOW but fr it's vampy renegade- taylor swift "you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody" he needs bloodbag 😔 starting line- luke hemmings i can't really explain this one but it's like how you always talk about how his happiness is overshadowed by the fact that he's a monster or whatever million dollar bills - lorde "theres nothing i want but money and time" and vampy has literally all the money and time :) solar power- lorde this is harrys hot girl anthem idk happiness- taylor swift "there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you" this is him reminiscing on miss chiropractor i wanna get better-bleachers "i didn't know i was lonely til i saw your face" "I didn't know i was broken til i wanted to change" come on 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 good 4 u - olivia rodrigo this is his fuck u song for miss chiropractor my tears ricochet- taylor swift "if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake" it's ironic innit 😌 what a feeling- one direction "what a feeling to be right here beside you now, holding you in my arms" please 😔 "everybody needs someone around" 😔😔😔 "but i can't hold you too close now" bc he has severe attachment and commitment issues :) all you had to do was stay- taylor swift "had me in the palm of your hand, then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in" omg miss chiropractor really hurt him 😔 king of my heart- taylor swift "and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for" bloodbag @ vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 cruel summer- taylor swift "I love you ain't that the worst thing you ever heard" bc he knows getting close to bloodbag will ultimately only lead to pain for everyone involved "i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" bc he can't tell bloodbag everything about him even tho he probably wants to :( thank u next- arianna grande this is weird BUT if miss chiropractor hadn't fucked him up so much he never would have met bloodbag tear in my heart- 21 pilots again don't make fun of me for this I HAVE AN EXPLANATION "you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine" if bloodbag fell asleep in his car he would definitely do this :( shape of you-ed sheeran "now my bedsheets smell like you" his room probably smells like honey and lavender all the time now and he's probably foaming at the mouth constantly cowboy in LA "let's skip the club, lets skip the crowd, i wanna take you on a date" bc they both hate clubs!!!!! "I'll hold your hand I'll hold the door bc that's how i was raised" he's a gentleman 😔😔😔😔 & burn- billie eilish "i'll sit and watch your car burn with the fire that you started in me, but you never came back to ask it out" idk for some reason this has vampy and miss chiropractor vibes take me to church- hozier religious trauma babes 🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼 speechless- dan+shay "i'm speechless, staring at you standing there in that dress" love 😔 yours- russel dickerson "i came to life when i first kissed you, the best me has his arms around you, you make me better than i was before, thank god i'm yours" SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SHAKING tolerate it- taylor swift "i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it" MISS ******** DIDN"T APPRECIATE OR CELEBRATE HIS LOVE MIA- anarbor "thinking about my life and everything i did wrong along the way"😔 lay low- josh turner for when bloodbag and vampy go to a cabin in the woods for a week and just love each other 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 who can save me now- anarbor "you stabbed me in the back" this one is pretty literal LSKFJLKSJFLKDSJ "you could have at least been kind enough to let me turn around" ouch 😔 dopamine- anarbor "i'm hooked on your dopamine" vampy and bloodbag ugh lie to me- 5sos this give me vampy and ******** vibes "i wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget" "while i'm cleaning up your mess i know he's taking

off your dress" bc she probably cheated on him while they were together 😔 and he would have stayed with her if she told him she loved him, even if he knew it was a lie 😔 cotton candy- yungblud it's just a happy song with good vibes like bloodbag and vampy currently have :) small talk- niall horan i don't even have to say anything here pillowtalk- zayn "so we'll piss off the neighbors" chappy 9 vibes dancing with our hands tied- taylor swift "i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us" vampy rn 😔 once in a lifetime- one direction vampy will live a million lifetimes but he will only ever have one bloodbag 😔 holy ground- taylor swift "tonight i'm gonna dance for all that we've been through but I don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you" they've come so far omg 😔 since we're alone- niall horan "you can show me your heart, if you put it all in my hands no i swear no i won't break it apart" crying if i could fly- one direction "for your eyes only i'll show you my heart" rollercoaster- bleachers again i can't explain it but it makes me think of him 😔 so long- niall horan "so if we knew all along why did it take so long" good question bestie current location- LANY "i need your current location to be my current location" they're idiots in love and want to be together all the time 😔 why dont we go there- one direction "hey i don't want you to be the one that got away i wanna get addicted to you you're rushing through my mind i wanna feel the high i wanna be addicted" well hes already addicted to her blood so might as well like you lots- LANY bc they both have issues and can't say love lmao too much to ask- niall horan vampy though wanting love was too much to ask of miss chiropractor 😔 walking in the wind- one direction this one just has his vibes man 😔 heartbeat- carrie underwood "dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat" bc vampy is obsessed with listening to bloodbag's heart (fan behavior if you ask me) idfc- blackbear this is vampy and ******** bc "tell me that you love me even if it's fake" city of angels- 24kgoldn "i sold my soul to the devil for designer" yes this made me laugh the woods- olivver the kid "waking up in the middle of the woods" "don't you wanna get out of here, out of the woods" flashback to when he was dead in the woods oop "you brought me down to the river, and you pushed me in, hoping that the white rapids would challenge my ability to swim" bc... she's a murderer omg this verse is talking about leaves and i'm freaking out it fits 100% this is crazy "You pick up two handfuls You tell me they're all dried up & dead You know that's nothing like us We'll live forever instead" just a little bit of your heart- ariana grande vampy bc he loves so deeply and completely that he will give all of himself to someone even if they won't do the same my strange addiction- billie eilish bc he is addicted to her blood :) cross your mind- niall horan this is vampy and ******** "love the way you hurt me and it doesn't even cross your mind" "leaving me in pieces (literally lmao) but i swear it's worth it every time" everywhere- niall horan that scene where vampy smelled some perfume or soap or something and it made him think of bloodbag 😔 everything makes him think of her now 😔 "swear it's hard to think it's hard to breathe when you're in the air" put a little love on me- niall horan "you're the only one i need" 😔 bend the rules- niall horan VAMPY AND ******** ALL THE WAY "i'm not saying that you're lying but you're leaving out the truth" heartbreak weather- niall horan "all of my life i've been sleepwalk living, running around the same bars i've been in, it can be so lonely in this city, but it feels different when you're with me" bloodbag and vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 mr loverman- ricky montgomery "i miss my lover man" vampy is probably dramatic like this all the time now that they're official 😔 bad blood- taylor swift again, just for the irony 😌 vapor- 5sos "i want to breathe you in like a vapor i want to be the one you remember i want to feel

your love like the weather all over me" they're so in love like this 😔 catch fire- 5sos "all my life i've been waiting for moments to come" he's been waiting for bloodbag his entire life 😔 beside you-5sos "i wish i was beside you" they want to be together all the time 😔 black and white- niall horan "that first night i was standing at your door fumbling for your keys then i kissed you" ARE YOU KIDDING ME not in the same way- 5sos this is vampy and ******** just bc they were so toxic lkfjskldfjsdlkjf lonely heart-5sos "and i haven't slept in days" lmao ghost of you-5sos "my feet dont dance like they did with you" thinking about when vampy danced for bloodbag and what if they break up 👁️👁️ why wont you love me- 5sos vampy at ******** 😔 he just wanted to be loved 😔😔😔😔😔 fool's gold- one direction "i let you use me from the day that we first met" "i know your love's not real, but that's not the way it feels" STOP IM SAD last first kiss- one direction "let me be your last first kiss" i want them to be together forever 😔 truly madly deeply- one direction "foolishly completely falling and somehow you kicked all my walls in" bloodbag really snuck into his heart huh 😔 fireproof -one direction "nobody saves me baby the way you do" ugh 😔 long story short-taylor swift "clung to the nearest lips long story short it was the wrong guy" (or in vampy's case the wrong vampire) gold rush-taylor swift "and the coastal town we run around has never seen a love as pure as it" bloodbag and vampy are all i want 😔 no judgement- niall horan bc vampy would never judge bloodbag 😔 daddy issues- the neighborhood again im not even gonna say anything here new angel- niall horan "the touch of someone else to save me from myself" this is vampy 😔 god is a woman- ariana grande vampy after he brought bloodbag home the first time something like this- the chainsmokers "just something i can turn to, somebody i can kiss" ALL VAMPY WANTS IS LOVE sweater weather- the neighborhood idk this song makes me think of him all of me- john legend "all of me loves all of you all your curves and all your edges all your perfect imperfections" KSFLKSDJFKLDJSFLJSDKLFJDSKL i like me better- lauv "i like me better when i'm with you" she makes him a better person 😔 sex- eden "oh no, i think i'm catching feelings" vampy when bloodbag went on a date with someone else half a heart- one direction bc bloodbag completes him 😔 theyre so disgusting 😔 only angel- harry styles "turns out she's a devil in between the sheets" woman- harry styles vampy when she was on a date with someone else bc hes a jealous moron temporary fix- one direction this has chappy 1-2 vibes a.m.-one direction when they first started falling in love and he wanted to be with her more often 😔 something great- one direction "i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i don't have to keep imagining" through the dark- one direction just all of this song 😔 happily- one direction "you know i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep i just want it to be you and i forever" 😔 electric love- borns "i can't let you go now that i got it" canyon moon- harry styles they're just happy like this rn 😔 sunflower vol. 6- harry styles "kiss in the kitchen like it's a dancefloor" "mouth full of toothpaste" when they brushed their teeth together 😔 adore you- harry styles obviously

#music #og post

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

ἀλήθεια (Chapter 6, Vοσταλγία AU)

ἀλήθεια Masterlist

Pairing: Freydis/Reader, Ivar/Reader (past)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: The usual, plus mentions/descriptions of war/battle. My endless swooning over Freydis.

A/N: So yeah, another one of these. It’s on the shorter side, and it doesn’t have much Freydis/Reader; but it is the last setup for the epilogue, so I needed to get plot stuff out of the way before we get to the good part lol. Hope you like it!

She loses count of all the months that go by, of all the flavors and scents she discovers, of all the stories you share and hear, of the vibrant and new colors she sees, of the people she meets and names she now remembers.

And she learns to speak your language of strange consonants and odd verbs, and you learn to speak hers of silent glances and smiles that feel secret. You learn to say the name of the man that you left without pain, and she learns to say the name of the man that you loved without resentment.

Oddly enough, these months teach Freydis to be almost thankful for Ivar.

Doesn’t mean she doesn’t still feel the ridiculous envy for a phantom, and that each time you and her argue about something regarding the past, she feels his mocking glare on her, as if reminding her it wasn’t him the reason she lost; doesn’t mean she doesn’t see him in every man in power she meets, especially those that linger too close to you, those that lose themselves in the curve of your smile.

She doesn’t blame them, but she hates them all the same.

But the ones she hates the most are the softer ones, the ones that are so unlike him that they make you laugh freely and don’t make you think twice about the easy affection you give away, the ones that are so unlike her that they don’t make you think of secrets and can offer you the world in a way only a man can.

But once again, Freydis is thankful for Ivar. For many things, because he taught her many things, because he brought you to her, because he freed her once. Most of all, she is thankful for what he taught the both of you about men in power.

Because when a prince in some cold land -colder than Kattegat, though she isn’t sure if distance is clouding her memories- presses a reverent kiss to your knuckles and looks at you with hunger in dark eyes, you smile with the same thing written in your own gaze; she is able to understand that your hunger isn’t for him, nor for all the worlds he offers you.

Because when she meets the last remaining man of your blood and he greets Freydis roughly in her own tongue -unaware she speaks Greek, but it is better that way, it is better they don’t know she knows many things- with a smile warmer than yours but eyes just as calculating; she can smile back and accept the warmth for a truth instead of searching for a lie.

Almost a year goes by and she finds herself enthralled in the way you make Sparta your own, the same way you did Kattegat: by letting the world around you change you just enough that you can force it to bend to your will.

And now there’s more definition in your shoulders, the lines of your back stronger, more defined; from a year training with bows and arrows alongside Lysander and Galla.

And now your anger is more subdued, the chaos kept at bay with cruel and well-placed words, but the fire is the same that makes her think of spring storms; from a year a woman free of everything except your ambition.

Freydis has changed too, she knows this. She finds herself standing taller on ground not her own; she finds herself just as aware as she always was of how they look at her, only now able and willing to use it against them; she finds herself finding certainty not in the Gods but in herself; she finds herself accepting that pain was never a gift from the Gods, and it may have marked her, body and soul, but she made herself.

And now here she sits by your side, trying not to let her thoughts linger on how you both said goodbye to Galla knowing she would return to him, to the man she supposedly loves, but here he is greeting you with a Spartan woman by his arm, a wife that isn’t the strong-willed and secretive woman Freydis came to care for in those months travelling together.

Your cousin eyes you with a teasing smile, “You are itching to return home, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know where my home is,” You correct, a tilt of your head, “But I do want what is mine to be returned to me, yes.”

“Some still say lands in Scandinavia are yours. To think you left Greece promised to a Thebesian and now you have returned, the wife to a Varangian King.”

You shrug one shoulder.

“Twists of Fate.”

“I’m still expecting him to storm our coasts to get you back.”

“You put a lot of value on my hand, Lysander.”

“Humility doesn’t suit you,” The man shrugs broad shoulders, and in the way he offers a side glance Freydis sees so much of you. “Regardless, if they do, we will be ready.”

“Of course you will be. I would hope you would ready for another battle, though.” You state, tone growing serious.

“We will retake Eleusis when the time comes.” Lysander reassures you, but you shake your head, and in your gaze all Freydis can see is…hunger.

“I am not speaking of Eleusis,” You promise, and when you smile your cousin returns the same mad kind of smile. She remembers Ivar and Hvitserk talking and boasting over the table during a feast after a victory, she remembers the mad smiles they shared with one another, and she understands seeing you and Lysander now, that there truly is a special kind of song to be heard only by those who share blood. You raise your chin, and offer, “Thebes is weakened, Lysander. And you know better than I do that to retake Eleusis we need to strike through land.”

Realization dawns on the man, who leans back and studies you in silence for a few breaths. You never lose the confident stance, though, staring him down as he considers your words.

Finally, he says, “We take over Thebes, settle your army there, and we can attack Eleusis from the North with the brunt of Attic forces, while Spartans choke their coasts.”

“And in controlling Thebes we control most of the silk trade in the Empire,” You finish, proud as you straighten in your seat, “Those priests are sure to miss their Byzantine Silk, are they not?”

Freydis is aware, in some part of her mind, that she is probably staring at you like a lovesick fool. Wide and lost smile, the faint warmth she feels on the top of her cheeks, eyes giving away every secret, if there ever was one.

You have eyes for the man across from you, gaze defiant in a way she knows well, in a way that her heart knows well too, for each skipped beat that gaze is responsible for.

Lysander tilts his head to the side, much like you do, and presses, “And who would rule? You?”

“Who else?” You retort, shrugging one shoulder, “You were never the conquering type, the Gods know you are Anax because you have no choice.”

He ignores the jab you throw his way, instead insisting,

“But you are Anassa of Attica, and I don’t think Boetians would take kindly to an Athenian woman ruling over them.”

Your mouth curves downwards, a nonchalant gesture that speaks of anything but that.

“They will, because we will be saving them. Attic or not, I am still Greek. Tis better than the alternative.”

“The Empire is not the enemy you thi-…”

“I’m not talking of the Empire. I’m talking of the Kievan Rus.”

“Oleg.” You start, and she lifts her gaze with a frown.

“What of him?”

“Do you trust him?”

Freydis scoffs, “No. And neither do you.”

Pressing your lips together, you look away for a moment, considering your next words. Freydis watches in silence, though her hands still follow the familiar motions of picking apart the flowers, stems, and leaves from the dried batch of yarrow.

“I think I do,” You start, voice quiet. “I think…I think that if nothing else, he is…direct. Reliable, in his own way.”

“He is unpredictable.”

You reach forward to correct a mistake she made, picking off a dried flower she left alongside the leaves, and say, “So was Ivar.”

“Not the same, and you know that.” She argues, leaning forward. For all the times she argued that you should have manipulated Ivar into doing your bidding, she never expected you to find the one man that outshines your husband in volatility, in chaos; and try doing so to him instead.

“He is smart, and he has ambitions that…align themselves with mine,” You insist, and Freydis accepts your words with a sigh. She doesn’t like where this is going one bit, but she will concede that this prince is a piece in the board that you shouldn’t rule out as a useful. “Do you think…?”

The words hang in the air between you, and her gaze meets yours, her answer unspoken.

“We will see,” She promises, and the smile that slowly curves at her lips is mirrored in yours. “Lust loosens a man’s tongue much more than wine, after all.”

The moment the words leave your lips silence reigns in between the people in the room, but Freydis doesn’t fail to notice how Galla is undisturbed by the mention, continuing her craving of a wooden block to make a building to add to the detailed stereographic map Lysander keeps of Eleusis. She isn’t sure if it is an act, if it is part of her pretense that she knows everything, or if she truly does.

Lysander’s broad arms are crossed over his chest, and he frowns as he looks at you.

“What are you talking about?”

Your smile is a secret in itself, but it speaks of something she knows well. Arrogance.

“A Prince from Novgorod will send an army to Thebes soon, they will be razing through Macedonia when spring comes.”

“How exactly do you know that?”

“I am a witch, I know things?” You tease with a smile, before sharing a look with Freydis and explaining, “There’s a man, a powerful man, interested in Constantinople, much in the way I am interested in Greece. He has agreed to send weak enough forces that we can overtake them and conquer Thebes, as long as we weaken the Empire for him.”

“Impressive woman as you might be, you cannot give the Rus Constantinople.”

You don’t miss a beat, answering, “But I can weaken it by taking Thebes, Athens, and Eleusis from them; and I can give the Rus standing ground on Athens when the time comes for them to invade.”

A sigh, and Lysander tries, voice strangely calming, “How are you certain you are not setting up the invasion of your own land?”

“I have other…safeguards.”

“Marriage?”

You shake your head with a scoff, “Nothing as fickle as that, no.”

“What, then?”

“Fear, awe. There are many things you can call it,” You state. When you speak next, there is a purposely false tone of innocence in your voice, and you shrug your shoulders, “You ought to remember, Lysander, that I am married to a Viking. And a famous one at that.”

“You divorced him.”

“But that is not a tale people will tell. Not there, for they fear his wrath too much to imply his wife has left him; and not here, for they fear the indecency of a woman capable and willing of ruling alone. As far as anyone knows, Ivar the Boneless has his eye set on the Mediterranean, and it is just a matter of time before his army gets here.”

“You cannot-…” Lysander starts, only to be interrupted.

“We courtesans are good at sharing secrets, you know?” Galla pips from her seat, dark eyes still focused on her project. “I can make sure my people spread the right secrets.”

Lysander’s eyes go slowly from the former courtesan to you, and he takes a deep breath.

“How much time will that buy you?”

“Enough,” You promise, unfaltering. “One like me never outlives a lie.”

____

The war takes a toll even on you. She sees it in the tired eyes as you offer a smile across a war table before returning your attention to the movements of the troops your commanders speak of, feels it in the loose hold of your hand in hers as you promise your goodnight wordlessly and slip away in the quiet of the night, hears it in the quiet prayers that leave your lips as you cut off a piece of your hair and let it flow with the wind that carries the ashes of those who perish in the battles.

But war, war like this, it is invigorating as much as it is debilitating. Freydis feels it, feels it in every victory that makes her smile a little wilder, feels it in every successful trick that makes Galla’s dark eyes shine with pride, feels it in every piece of land you claim for yourself that makes you a little more goddess than woman.

And before winter is upon you, the mark of battle is slowly fading from Eleusis, and you stand before a throne made of stone that they all pretend not to see the Norse runes etched on, and with your head held high, you claim the title you were born to hold.

Anassa of free Greece.

____

It is the sight in the night you offer a feast to honor the first families that are joined in marriage under your rule that Freydis notices something off about you.

Granted, a celebration in your home is almost nothing like the celebrations she participated in while in Kattegat; the games are very different and so is the music, the food is fascinatingly strange and the people less so, but still as fascinating; but she is unable to stop herself from comparing it to a feast in Kattegat, to the nights of music and loud people all around you, to the breathed laughs you’d let out and all the different smiles you would offer in the course of one night.

And while the world around you is familiar once again, and the people are warmer and kinder, and the music is more refined and the food sweeter; you…you remain distant. And your breathed laughs are mere chuckles for the benefit of others, and the smiles you offer do not stray from two varieties she sadly knows well: the false smiles and the wistful ones.

So, she approaches you. Quietly, you both know by now there aren’t words that need to be exchanged, she takes a seat next to you.

As who awakens from a dream, you turn your gaze to Freydis and offer a smile. A warmer one, a truer one, and that fills her hollow chest with something indescribable.

But instead of saying anything, or accepting the impossible calm in the midst of the chaos of the celebrations as you sit side by side, you stand up and extend a hand.

“Walk with me?”

Freydis doesn’t hesitate to take your hand, and when you don’t let go as you start walking through the balconies of the temple, she dares to intertwine her fingers with yours.

“You seem…different tonight.”

“It is strange, sitting there alone,” You tell her, an explanation, an answer to the question she didn’t need voice. “I never knew how to handle power alone. I had Narses, I had Ivar. I was never alone with power, with the decisions, with the…weight.”

“You don’t have to lose yourself because of it.”

“I don’t plan to, I just…if any of them were here, I could…ask them, I could…”

“What would you ask?”

“If hunger like this is to be expected,” You reply instantly, holding her hand just a tad tighter. You stop walking turning to look out at the sea from the stone balcony, and Freydis cannot help but feel you see much further beyond the horizon when you do. “I am not content with Eleusis, I want…more.”

Freydis smiles, proud and maybe a little mad.

“No one ever expected you to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“What is it you truly want, Freydis?” Galla asks, too convoluted of a question for this early in the morning. Though, Freydis has learned in these passing months that to what her is a morning to Galla is the middle of an afternoon.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

The other woman shrugs, full lips almost in a pout, “Everyone has ambitions. I wonder about yours.”

“If you expect me to name kingdoms, you will be disappointed.”

“I don’t.”

She adverts her gaze, pressing her lips together as she tries to come up with an answer, with a truth that doesn’t have the claw marks of her instinct that begs her to lie.

“Control,” She offers, before scrunching her face at her own words. It sounds wrong. So, she tries explaining, “I want to…for too long my life has been dictated by the choices of others.”

“Yet you follow a foreign woman to a world so far from yours, you accept her as your leader even if you aren’t of her people.”

“I need only have myself to have something to control. I’ve...learned that.”

“Will you tell me you truly do not hunger for more?” Galla insists, before being interrupted by the door opening with what seems to be a kick.

“I will kill Lysander. Mark my words, I will kill that man one day.” You complain loudly as you enter the room, shrugging off the himation with a frustrated grunt that just makes the task much more complicated for you, resulting in a little angry dance as you fight the piece of clothing that Galla snickers at.

Freydis watches you with a small smile on her lips, unable to keep herself from it. Quietly, she answers,

“We all want more.”

She searches your gaze for a few moments, before finding her words.

“If they were here, what would they say?”

“Narses would tell me to hold my ground, to wait for them to attack but ward them off by showing my strength,” You say, eyes unable to leave the blue of the sea as you continue, “Ivar would tell me to raze it all, to attack before they have time to realize I am a threat.”

“Would you do what any of them would tell you to?” She questions, even though she knows the answer.

She sees it in the curve of your mouth, feels it in the chuckle you let out as your head drops to her shoulder, hears it in the breath that leaves you.

“No, I wouldn’t,” You voice finally, quietly. “I would…I will lure them into attacking. They won’t think me a threat, no sane man would think a witch that stumbled her way into being a conqueror can protect a kingdom. When they step too close, we will attack, we will…reclaim.”

It isn’t what that fool you tricked into loving you would have done, for you aren’t standing tall like a man would and daring the world to come and stop you, because the world won’t hesitate to strike down a woman that dares do such a thing.

It isn’t what the man that offered you a heart and a kingdom yet lost you when he couldn’t give you freedom would have done, for you aren’t biting anger and bloodthirst at the helm of an army wanting to bring the world to its knees, because the anger that burns away at you is not one you will let turn you to ashes as well.

It is what you would do, with all the lessons those men and many others have left you with, but, more importantly, what all the lessons the women you have met and loved have left you with.

With your mother’s faith, with Sieghild’s resolve, with Valdís resilience, with Galla’s cunning.

Freydis doesn’t know what lessons, if any, she might have left you with. Yet as time goes by, and you both return to this same place, to this same home that isn’t the stone walls of the temple but something more, something more permanent than that; she realizes she never need leave you with any lesson, much like she refuses to acknowledge any lesson you may leave her with.

Because that would imply that one day you won’t be side by side. If Freydis accepts she leaves you with her loyalty, or her perseverance, then that means she leaves you, and she never would. If you leave her with your pride, or your strength, then there is a world possible where you are lost to her, and that simply cannot be.

I never knew how to handle power alone, you told her. But you never were. Alone, that is.

Her fingers intertwined with yours, her presence at your side, her shoulder for you to lean your head on as you both look ahead at the place where the sky meets the sea; and Freydis hopes you know that, just as she prays quietly, to whatever Gods may here, that neither of you ever know what it is like to be alone again.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it!

I’ll post the epilogue in a week or so, maybe earlier :)

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside @aprilivar @msrawog

#freydis #freydis x reader #freydis vikings #ἀλήθεια masterlist

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 05

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: sorry for the delay, i’ve been having a bit of a writer’s block recently and started getting out of it now. thank you so much for the support so far, hope you enjoy this one xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Sebastian was very much a powerful man in the way he carried himself to the way he spoke. She mostly stood by his side, basking in the glorious power he seemed to so easily hold over everyone who spoke to him. They spoke to him as if he were a king and, somehow, he was. After all, he managed to keep his family’s mob name still on top of any other and somehow even improved it, at least she heard from rumours on the street. All but one single guest had been polite, probably due to the fear he irradiated, that one being a guy named Thompson Williams. Mr. Williams was what Mr. Forrest called a mob rat, feeding on the wealth of those who had built it themselves without dirtying a single finger. His voice was mellow like snake’s venom, the politeness the fakest she’d ever heard, even Sebastian seemed to rush the conversation.

In order to do so, he had decided to finally dance with his fiancée, pulling her away from a pretty blonde haired guy she has been flirting with. Unhappily, Gwen put on a forced smile as he twirled her around the dance floor surrounded by other mob bosses and their wives. Seeing couples always brought a tinge of sadness to her. If there was something she knew is that she had to constantly be by Gwen’s side no matter her status which didn’t give her enough time to fin someone and if she did, she didn’t exactly think they would be happy to live with another couple. Besides, she was already in her early twenties and still to have a significant relationship with someone, the only one getting close being a guy she had met in private school who had taken her first kiss but other than that she just watched everyone fall in love while she waited in the wings.

Soon enough, Gwen was pulling her onto the dance floor, sending her off dancing with several men whose hands would constantly need to be watched fear they went lower than before. Whenever she thought she could step out of the dance floor and go stand, someone else was grabbing her hand to dance or Gwen was pulling her back in. As the seventh song finished, she managed to rush to the side, hiding behind one of Sebastian’s bodyguards before they could pull her back on the dance floor. She leaned against one of the table, soothing her very tired feet due to the unbelievably high heels he was using.

- Are you hiding, Y/N? - Sebastian came up from behind her, making her squeak ever so slightly due to the surprise.

- My feet really hurt. - she ever so slightly raised her feet. - I think Mr. Garret stepped on me a couple of times too.

- Mr. Garret is one for the wines. I wouldn’t put it against him as doing it on purpose.

- You and Gwen make a beautiful couple. - she gave him a warm feeling, not entirely sure why she felt sadness whenever she said so. Maybe it was because none of them really wanted to be in that relationship despite how great they looked together. - Although I must say, I didn’t pen you for dancing.

- Well, I was gonna ask you for a dance considering you’ve danced with every single man here but me. - he extended his hand towards her and despite the numbing sensation of her feet, she could find it within herself to deny him. She placed her hand upon his, tiptoeing a bit towards the dance floor.

Y/N considered herself a good dancer, at least a nice one to lead with but with Sebastian, things were slightly different. Her small squeak escaped her lips as he put his hands on her waist. She could almost feel the texture of his fingers through the thin beige lace fabric and suddenly she wished she had picked a thicker fabric. He was much more skilled at it than her, or maybe he was better at hiding how nervous he was. The latter was definitely true as he found it harder to control the grin that was trying to escape his polite stoic face as he felt her warm skin against his hand.

She turned her face looking at the people who were staring at him. She guessed that being that powerful had the disadvantage of the constant gaze of those trying to usurp his place. However, there was a sort of hiding kindness in his baby blue eyes, light, bright eyes contrasted to the darkness that followed him around. No, there was some sort of happiness in those eyes, a remnant of the child he once was.

- Everyone is staring at you. - she spoke for the first time ever they had started to dance, her eyes moving up to stare at his, the familiar nervousness starting to brew up and manifest itself in the heat up of her cheeks, warmer than the several candles displayed around the room.

- Trust me, angel, it is not me they’re staring at. - he twirled her around, pushing her a bit more towards his chest once she returned to her initial position. Y/N could feel every single cell on her body electrify and heat up.

- Maybe ... maybe you should return to dancing with Gwen. - appearances once again were important and Y/N knew it wouldn’t look good for the couple being celebrated being on two opposite ends of the room. She was the one to step away, half bowing to him and clapping as the song ended. Before Sebastian could even process her words, she had already departed to the sidelines of the dance floor, tapping Gwen’s shoulder and sending her straight to her fiancé.

It was still a harsh truth for her brain to process. As an English graduate, she was, as most graduates of the same course, an incurable romantic adoring the idea of kissing in the rain and small gestures that prove complete knowledge over your loved one. Here there were no hidden love, no unrequited affection, they were just getting married to form an alliance, to follow a contract set way before Gwen was born. Y/N understood her friend’s side and unwillingness to bend to the rules expected from her, she had always been a wild spirit who enjoyed relishing on her youth. However, she wasn’t one to agree with the constant petty remarks towards Sebastian.

- A remarkable party, isn’t it Miss Y/N? - Y/N sighed, watching Mr. Williams walk up to her side, a glass of red wine in hand.

- I would say so. - she replied politely.

- That is a very particular necklace you have there. - Thompson pointed at the necklace nested in the middle of her collarbones. - A gift from Mr. Stan, I would guess.

- No, I’ve had this necklace since I was born. However, with all due respect Mr. Williams, I don’t feel comfortable enough to discuss my personal life with you.

- You seem rather comfortable with Mr. Stan. - Y/N didn’t enjoy the undertones in his voice, taking a few steps behind and going onto a protective state. - Miss Y/N, you can trust me. Whenever you need anything, I’m here.

- I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Williams. I’ll keep it in mind.

- You’ll keep what in mind? - never once had Y/N been so happy to hear Sebastian’s voice and feel him looming presence behind her. Mr. Williams, however, seemed to keep his composure, merely raising his glass as a curtesy to the mob boss.

- I was just paying your new employee my respects, Stan. Offering my aid if ever in need.

- She won’t need your help. - he scoffed at the idea of a lower rank mobster being ever able to provide Y/N with someone he couldn’t. If Y/N ever needed something she was to come to him not to a rat like Thompson Williams who had made a small empire by screwing others over. No, Y/N would never need help from someone like him, if it was up to Sebastian’s will. Gwen too did not enjoy to see her friend speak with guys like Thompson, and like a spy was standing a few feet apart from the three, glass in hand, watching with a few bodyguards in hand if needed. - If you excuse me, my fiancée and I are retiring for tonight.

- Have a nice night, Mr. Stan, Miss Y/N. - she didn’t know how to explain it but her name felt wrong in that tongue. Like it shouldn’t be said and before she could politely reply as she had been taught, Sebastian already had a hold on her wrist, pushing her towards Genevieve who was willingly waiting to make sure her friend was alright.

- We are going home, right now. - Sebastian muttered to one of his bodyguards, ready to end the parade of his personal life. On the other hand, Gwen had other plans not exactly agreeing with leaving a party thrown in her honour that early. Y/N noticed her change in attitude, fully knowing exactly how her friend behaved whenever she didn’t agree with something. - Now means now, Genevieve.

- I’m staying, you can go. - Gwen looked at Y/N, her eyes begging for her to plead with Sebastian so she could stay over. Should she do it? No. Was she gonna do it? Well, it was Gwen, her oldest friend, so with a sight, Y/N turned on her heel to face the mob boss.

- We could go now and maybe let Gwen stay here with the bodyguards. For appearances. - she suggested and Sebastian seemed to pounder it. It was rather clear to him what Y/N was trying to achieve, she wasn’t that sneaky, however, he also did not want to have a fight with his fiancée for everyone to see. - I could stay too.

- No, Y/N, you can go. - Gwen definitely did not want to have a babysitter following her around and telling her to be mindful of her role, despite that being Y/N’s job since they were children. - I know you don’t like these functions anyway.

Sebastian did not reply, instead bolting out of the room followed by one of his bodyguards. Y/N gave Gwen a “be careful” look before rushing after him the best she could in her heels until she reached him, stopping him by grabbing onto the sleeve of his suit. The mob boss stopped, glancing for a few seconds at Y/N before sighing, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her towards the limo. He couldn’t be mad at her for defending her friends, however, he could be mad at both of them not to follow orders, specially his orders. Sebastian was not one to have his control tested yet Y/N unknowingly did it.

- Do not disobey me next time. - he almost growled at her, watching as Y/N moved away from him, her innocent nature returning on full display.

- I’m sorry, Mr. Stan. - she bit on her lip, leaning against the limo’s window.

- I understand your loyalty towards Genevieve but I’ve been in this environment much longer than you and her have been. I know better.

- She’s young, marriage isn’t exactly what she wanted specially to someone like you?

- Someone like me? - she briefly looked to the side and even though she was in the dark of the night inside the limo, she was met by clean white teeth gritted down at her as well as a deep dark angry glared directed at her, of course. - Care to explain?

- A stranger. - she stated, playing with the fabric of her dress as not to look him in the eye.

- No, angel, that’s not what you meant. - he knew when someone was lying, his profession, if that could be said, called for that ability and she was lying. If not, she was at least trying to be kind. - What did you mean by someone like me?

- Well ... your ... your reputation follows you.

- You should know your friend’s reputation follows her too, she isn’t exactly the type of woman I would enjoy to marry.

The atmosphere was heavy and none of them really knew how to break the ice. Every once in a while she would look at him, briefly trying to see if his posture had relaxed but he kept on with his statue like posture which continued even as they rode the lift back to the penthouse. He took back to his office while Y/N stood at the entrance of the penthouse. Sighing, she took her shoes off and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of iced water. Just like she used to do back in her old home, she stripped off her dress standing in a corset and petit coat that gave volume to the dress and sat on the balcony, drinking her glass of iced water.

Y/N knew better not to annoy Gwen or Sebastian, however, it feared her more to disobey Sebastian. He had enough power and men to dispose of her and make it look like an accident, however it wasn’t that which made her not want to disappoint him. It was something else.

She climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

It had been a long day.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan AU #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan

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spectovrs · 3 years

Text

so this is specifically dedicated to the amazing @sigyncevans cause shes in love with stevie and cause we wanted a crossover between verch x steve and ivonne x charles. so yea here you go, i hope you'll like it lmao

side note: before every part there's a title of a song that matches this part's vibe :D also, as you'll probably see, I'm a Swiftie and NBHD stan <3

warnings: mentions of war, canon level violence, some swears, apart of that none - pure fluff

word count:

hope you enjoy <3

I'M GONNA UPDATE THIS LATER THIS IS NOT THE WHOLE STORY

------------------------- "Paper rings"

"Verch, hey Verch wake up, the sun has already risen!"

"And what do you want me to do, photosynthesis?" Verch asked Steve who tried to wake her up

"Hey, you don't need to be aggressive" said Steve with a little smirk "I just want to eat breakfast with my beautiful girlfriend"

"As you should tho" she yawned "wait a second I'm coming"

Steve gave her this heart eyes look which always made her heart melt. He took a few steps back so she had more space to get up. He looked at her as she stretched her arms, grabbed a hoodie and made her bed. When she was done he took her hand and together they went downstairs to the kitchen.

"What do you wanna eat?" Steve asked

"Anything babe" Verch responded "you cook so good, everything you make is great" she added.

"Okay,, it's cereal then" he said

"Not very ambitious but I love it" she laughed "thanks Stevie"

"Really it's my pleasure" Steve chuckled and started preparing the food.

Verch brought the bowls and cereal while Steve was finding milk. Few minuted later they had everything finished. Together they sat at the table, chatting happily, appreciating the fact that they had each other. They both knew damn right that they were so lucky that they met and that they had someone to share everything with, to talk about everything, sometimes cry to. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that.

----------------------------- "London boy"

Charles opened his eyes slowly and blinked as the sun hit him right in the face. He moved his head and now he was facing her. Ivonne. She was still sleeping, breathing quietly, hugging him very thighly for a sleeping person. Suddenly she yawned and started blinking just like Charles did. She scrunched her nose a little.

"I love your cute nose scrunch" Charles said "it reminds me of Edith" /fyi Edith is a cat Charles and Ivonne adopted/

"Since when I'm compared to our cat Charlie?" Ivonne asked with overdramatic tone.

"Since we got her. You remember when we first saw her? She had exact same look on her face as you had" he laughed "still, I think you look adorable"

"Thanks I guess" she yawned again "I'm hungry" she added.

"This was so random darling" Charles put her hair behind her ear "but same, so maybe let's go and eat something"

"Good idea" she sat on the bed and rubbed her face "this sun is attacking me" she complained as she covered her eyes with her hand.

"You're right" Charles said and rolled out of bed. He immediately stood up, offered Ivonne his hand ("will you take my hand ma'am?") and dancing with her to the melody they together sang he guided her to the kitchen.

-------------------------- "Play with fire"

"So, did you like the movie?" Steve asked as they went out of the cinema.

"Yes of course! My favourite part was when all heroes went into the sunshine in the end. So emotional" Verch said, tearing up a little bit "If I was in a movie I would end it exact same way" she added.

Steve nodded and smiled at her softly. For some time they remained silent as they both imagined their perfect endings.

"You know what?" Verch asked "It's not about going to a certain place. It's about who you go there with" she stopped for a second. "In my perfect ending, I go into the sunshine with you and all our friends. We're all happy cause we know that we did everything we could to leave this world better than we arrived in it"

"It's a beautiful ending" Steve imagined it in his head "I would love it to be real" he added. "It can be real if we try hard enough" Verch smiled hopefully "I want to try Steve. For you, for all of us" "Me too darling, me too" he kissed her cheek gently "I love you Verch and I always will"

Suddenly they heard a high pitched sound, as if someone vey angry tried to tear all metal around them into pieces. Verch curled up in pain, covering her ears. Steve immediately pulled her closed and hugged her so the noise was less painful.

"What the hell is that?" Verch asked with pain in her voice

"I have no idea" Steve replied, at same time trying to find the source of sound. He looked up to the sky... and saw a man in a strange looking suit, long cape and a helmet who was floating in the air and basically... worked like a big magnet. All metal from the street, which was cars, phones, street lamps, wires etc were flying in this man's direction and creating some kind of field around him.

"Maybe we should do something about this?" Verch yelled as noise was getting louder.

"Yeah you're right" Steve yelled back "luckily I have my shield with me"

"Wait Stev-" Verch tried to warn him but he didn't hear her. Steve threw the shield at the man and yeah of course shield didn't come back cause.. it was metal.

"What the hell Steve, this man rules metal and you throw your METAL shield at him?!"

"Yes, maybe this was not the best idea" Steve said with a bit of shame in his voice "plan B then, run"

They both started running away from the metal ruler. There was noone here, all other people ran away much earlier. Suddenly they saw a white light before them. The light was growing fast and it formed a circle. It looked like a... portal. They stopped like 100 meters away from the circle. They saw a silhouette coming out of the portal. Woman, dark hair, blue eyes, something about 25 years, in a black suit with white stripes forming "X" on her chest. She looked serious yet her view had something comforting in it. She saw them standing and gestured to the portal.

"Come on Steve, take Verch to the portal" how did she know their names? "quick, it's mot safe for you here" she rushed them. Steve, still in shock, took Verch's hand and ran with her to the portal. Last thing they saw before portal closed was that the woman's hands were glowing just like Wanda's but not red. Left white and right black.

------------------------ "Little dark age"

They ran onto a lawn. Very big lawn to be honest. Somewhere in front of them they noticed huge, old-looking mansion.

"Where the hell are we?" Verch was a little scared " and how this girl knew our names, who was she and who was this magnet man?"

"Well, I can answer all your questions, if you let me" they heard a calm voice. They looked around to find the talking person but there was noone in their sight.

"Uhm, who are we talking to?" Steve asked also worried

"I'm Charles. Charles Xavier. And I'm sorry I am in your minds but I didn't know if I can fully trust you" said the voice.

"Wait- you're in our heads?" Verch asked now absolutely frightened

"I'm sorry, but I had to check" Charles replied "wait a minute, I'm already near to you" he added. As soon as he finished the sentence, they saw him walking down the lawn. Tall, blue eyed and dark haired just like the woman who they've met before. He stopped few meters away from them and looked at them for a second. Finally Steve asked the question both him and Verch wanted to ask.

"This woman who opened the portal... you know her?"

"Yes, her name is Ivonne. She sensed that you're in trouble and immediately got herself in the middle of a multidimensional hole. But, here she comes" Charles said and, in fact the portal opened again and woman, or Ivonne as they just learned, appeared again.

"And how did it go?" Charles asked her "what did you do with him? I hope you didn't kill him"

"Oh no, of course not, stupid" she said with a cocky smile "the Avengers showed up and bet his ass"

"The Avengers?" Steve and Verch gasped

"Yeah, the Avengers" Ivonne said "not that they introduced themselves" she winked at Charles and laughed

"Ivonne's a telepath, just like me" Charles explained "we can read people's minds"

"So this is how you knew our names right?" Verch turned to Ivonne

"Yep" the girl replied "I know, it's wasn't really good but I didn't have time to explain"

"It's okay" Verch chuckled "thank you for saving us tho" she added

"No problem and you're welcome" Ivonne smiled "and I love your hair Verch. It looks great"

"Thank you" Verch smiled at her "I love your suit"

"Now thank you" Ivonne smiled back "well, I guess you're hungry, maybe you want to come in and eat something?" she asked

"Great idea" Charles joined in "Verch, Steve what do you think?"

"Sounds great" Steve said

"Yeah same" Verch responded

"Okay, Ivonne, can you guide us?" Charles asked

"Of course, this way" Ivonne started walking to the mansion and the rest followed her.

--------------------- "Meet me at our spot"

"So, how did you know we're in trouble?" Verch asked when everyone finished eating.

"I'm not sure, but it's possible that something or someone broke the reality and that it's possible to travel between different universes" Ivonne said and Charles nodded

"We think someone was at the end of time and did something that consequented into forming a multiverse" Charles added.

"So this guy, this wielding metal one, was from different universe?" Steve was completely shocked

"Yes, specifically for OUR universe" Charles replied "his name is Erik, also known as Magneto. He is... was my friend. I don't think I know him anymore" Charles saddened "anyway, he probably didn't intentionally go into your verse. He just got himself into a hole between a parallel verse, which we found out to be your verse aka Avengers Verse. In shorter version we call it AVerse"

"Wait, so now everyone can travel between universes?" Verch was clearly very interested in the topic.

"Not everyone, just people with powers to bend reality, for example me, or people who just got themselves into a colliding verses like Erik" Ivonne answered.

"Wow.. this must be so cool to have powers like yours" Verch smiled sadly "I don't have any superpowers, I'm just... like everyone"

"No, you're definitely not like everyone" Charles tried to cheer her up.

"Yes, he's right" Steve hugged her "you're unusually intelligent, smart, charming... you're the one and only" he added

"I'm sure you have powers but just don't know it yet" Ivonne smiled "you'll figure it out someday. Maybe faster than you think"

"Thank you guys" Verch gave them a soft smile "but if you'll excuse me, can we go to sleep now? I'm horribly tired and I'd love to get some rest"

"Now that you say it I feel sleepy too" Ivonne yawned.

"Great, I'll show you a room" Charles stood up from the table "one bed or two?"

"One of course" Steve winked at Verch

"Oh I understand" Charles looked at Ivonne "we have same thing going on"

"Oh God, can you stop flexing with it" look on Ivonne's face told that this is not the first time she had to deal with this "he literally tells that to every single couple we meet. "Hi, I'm Charles and this is Ivonne, hey did you know she's my girlfriend? Oh well she is, yeah we sleep in the same bed" and it goes and goes and goes and it never ends"

Verch chuckled but Charles looked like someone just punched him in the face.

"I didn't know it bothers you that much darling" he said looking in Ivonne's eyes

"Well, no it doesn't, I just like messing with you" she gave him a filtry smile "alrighty then, Verch, Steve come on, I'm gonna show you your room"

"Goodnight" Charles said as they were going up the stairs. They said goobe to him too and followed Ivonne who was already upstairs. They walked through the corridor to its end and Ivonne opened the door before them.

"I hope you'll like the room" she pointed at door on the right side of the room "here's a bathroom, I think towels are already there, if you'll need anything just focus on it, Charles or I will hear you" she checked again if everything was on its place "goodnight and see you tomorrow"

"Bye" Verch said "sweet dreams"

Ivonne closed the door behind her. Verch went to the shower and Steve waited for her outside the bathroom. When she finished, she walked out so Steve could wash himself too. She jumped on the bed. It was very comfy and soft. She wrapped herself up into the blanket. She didn't even know when she fell asleep.

------------------------- "Don't blame me"

"We can't leave it like that Charles" Ivonne confronted him "waiting won't give us more time and you know it. Do you want our world to be taken over again?"

"No, I just think we should know more about the problem before we start doing something about it" his voice was calm but his eyes were saying different thing.

"We already know what the problem is: the multiverse" Ivonne bit her lip "we don't have time Charles. Erik went to AVerse, what if someone bad from AVerse will arrive in our world? Avengers don't have telepaths in their squad and we don't know how to fight their bad guys"

"You're right, but still, we don't know if the multiverse is actually the problem. Maybe we misunderstood something or maybe only the two verses collided. We don't know it and, till we will not be absolutely sure, it's not wise to take any actions. Also we don't know what caused the break of reality so we don't know how to patch it up"

"You're just scared" Ivonne let out a little snort "you're scared of doing anything about it"

"No, I'm scared about YOU doing anything about it" Charles looked her in the eyes

"Why? I think I can handle my powers, you yourself said it"

"It's not about your powers, I just... I just don't want you to be hurt" did his eyes fill with tears or was it just the light? "you suffered enough Vonnie. I don't want to see you in pain again"

Ivonne moved closed to him and hugged him delicately. "I don't want you to be hurt too Charles" she whispered "you mean everything to me, never forget that". She missed him softly and rest her head on his shoulder.

"I love you so much Vonnie"

------------------------ "Sweater weather"

Verch woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. She didn't remember everything but she saw light, felt pain and... she had some kind of powers? It was beautiful and terrifying at same time. She tried to calm her mind but she only stressed herself even more. She heard quiet knock on the door. They opened and Verch saw Ivonne standing on the corridor.

"Hey Verch" Ivonne said quietly trying not to wake up Steve "is everything okay? I heard your mind and I wanted to find out. You sounded very... terrified"

"I'm fine, totally, just had a nightmare. It's nothing really, I'm sorry I woke you up" Verch felt really bad for waking her up "I'm really fine" she added

"You sure about that? It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway" Ivonne smiled calmly "if you want to talk, I'm here"

"Uhh it's just that.. this nightmare.. it felt so real. I felt pain, my pain, and saw light coming from me, and I'm scared cause I don't fucking know what that means"

"Do you need a hug? Sometimes it's the best way to help"

"Yeah thanks"

Ivonne walked to her and hugged her softly

"I can help you fall asleep if you need it"

"Do you think I really have superpowers?" Verch asked after some time.

"Yes, actually, now when you had this dream I'm sure about it" Ivonne hugged her a little thither "they will appear really soon in my opinion"

"Thanks Ivonne" Verch smiled "I could use your help going back too sleep if it's okay"

"Of course"

Verch watched her as she rised her right hand and touched her scalp. Her mind went blank and she fell asleep with no dreams.

------------------------- "Leaving tonight"

Next day, Verch and Steve woke up and went downstairs. They met Charles who clearly didn't sleep well, dark circles under his eyes told them everything.

"Woah, you look like you didn't sleep at all" Steve asked him, raising his brows.

"I didn't actually" Charles yawned "it was a very bad night. Ivonne didn't sleep too"

"Oh my god what happened, I hope it wasn't our fault" Verch really didn't want to be a problem.

"No of course not, it's just... our world is not perfect and... I don't know if I can tell you that actually. I have to ask her first, wait a second" Charles touched his head like Ivonne did when she came to help Verch. He looked like he's contacting someone without words. "Alright, she's okay with it. Well, I am from a family that loved me and stuff but Ivonne isn't. Her parents never accepted her powers and basically threw her out of the house. She was fifteen at the time. She used her powers to get food, water and have a place to sleep. She was still studying and decided to go to university. Oxford specifically. That's where I met her. She was very closed and didn't trust me at first but after some time she told me everything about her past and about her being a telepath. When I was assembling the team I asked her if she wanted to join. She said yes. She was mostly doing a spy job and she was really good at it. But once we lost contact with her. She was sent to New York to find a well known scientist, who we thought might be in danger. She arrived there but suddenly she disappeared. We tried everything to contact her again but her mind was gone too. I was so worried about her that I went to NY to find her. She was in fact captured by CIA and investigated. They asked her about our team but she didn't tell them anything so they became more brutal. I somehow managed to break her out but she already was totally terrified. She has photographic memory. She remembers every single detail of the investigation. How she was tortured and stuff. She has nightmares. Every single night. But sometimes, it's worse, like today. Panic attacks for sure. Its hard to calm her down and it takes me whole night sometimes"

"This is awful, how is she feeling now?" Verch and Steve felt sorry for her "is there any way to help her?"

"I'm afraid not" Charles smiled sadly "but thank you. Now, would you like to eat something?"

"Yeah, sure"

"Okay, come on, let's prepare breakfast"

-------------------- "Call it what you want"

It was afternoon, Steve was training with his shield in the garden (Ivonne gave it back to him after Avengers bet up Erik). He thought about everything: about the danger multiverse created, about how he was in parallel universe now, about how are Avengers doing without him and about... Verch. She seemed a lot more serious last days and he didn't know if it was because of everything they went through recently or because of something she didn't want to tell him. She clearly had a secret and Steve was okay with it, he just didn't want her to go through this alone. He loved her and wouldnt sleep well knowing he ignored her problems and didn't do something to help. He threw his shield again, it bounced off the trees and came back to him. He threw it harder. And harder and harder. He catched the shield and sat on the grass, covering his head in his hands.

"Steve?"

He immediately recognised this voice. Verch.

"You alright?" Verch asked again.

"Yes sweetheart, I'm fine. Just a little tired" he tried not to sound weird. He didn't want her to worry about him.

"Steve. Don't lie to me, I see something isn't right" Verch didn't let him trick her "you can tell me everything, you know it"

"I just worry about you Verchie. You are more serious now, you laugh less, you don't seem happy, I mean you don't have to be happy all the time but I just feel something is wrong"

Verch went silent for a few seconds. When she finally spoke her voice was shaking.

"I feel like I have a power inside me. It awakened some time ago. And it scares me. I don't know if I will control it, what if I hurt someone? I... don't know anymore who I really am. I don't know what these powers even are" her eyes filled with tears. Steve hugged her and stroked her hair softly as she cried in his arms.

"I'm afraid Steve, I don't want to hurt anyone"

"You won't sweetie and don't be afraid, I will always be here with you, I promise"

"Thank you Stevie"

"I love you Verchie"

--------------------------- "Best friend"

Verch didn't remember next few days well, it all blurred into fear, sleep, eating and wandering around the mansion. Ivonne was feeling better, Verch talked to her a lot, she was checking up on her very often which Ivonne appreciated. The two grew up closer, Verch started to think that she finally has a friend other than Steve. She couldn't call the Avengers her real friends cause they didn't talk much. She saw them sometimes when they were coming to her house to pick up Steve. They were all cool, dangerous and... had superpowers. Were better than average people. It scared her a bit and always made her feel a little anxious. Did she say everything right? Didn't she annoy any of them? Maybe they didn't like what she did or said and now she made new enemies? Steve always told her that they like her and that she did everything right but she didn't really believe him. One small part of her always doubted that.

So she really appreciated Ivonne. She felt like she had someone who doesn't judge her, who genuinely likes her and who won't turn their back on her once she disagrees with them. Ivonne felt same way but, as she had in her character, didn't tell Verch about that. Ivonne's one and only real friend, apart from Verch, was Charles. He always was there for her, understood her so well and never left her side. She always thought about him as a very good friend but deep inside she knew that he's something more. "Idiot in love" she called herself out one day.

Now, that she had Verch, she was damn sure that she finally has a best girl friend who will always stand with her.

And Verch thought same about her.

------------------------- "Flawless"

Charles called them all to his office telling them that they must think about a plan. So, the four was now sitting on comfy armchairs brainstorming how to end the multiverse. For now, noone had any ideas.

"My brain hurts" Steve complained "I'm not used to this much thinking about complicated stuff"

"Same" Ivonne rubbed her eyes "even tho I am a MSc in genetics"

"I need a break" Verch let her head fall on the back of her armchair "this shit is tiring, all these... dangers, oh my god they are just-" she yawned

"Yeah I think we need a break" Charles also seemed sleepy "wanna go outside or have a nap here?"

"Move Xavier, I'm coming" Ivonne stood up and three fast steps later she was on his lap.

"Steve, you move too" Verch followed her friend's example, sat down next to Steve and cuddled into him.

"I'll take as a "we wanna take a nap here"" Charles chuckled and started playing with Ivonne's hair.

Steve pulled Verch closer and watched her for a second as she fell asleep.

"How did you confess to Verch?" Charles suddenly asked him.

"What? Oh, I invited her to the cinema then we went to a tower, she loves night views from high places, and I just... told her. Kinda basic but I couldn't think of anything better to be honest. She liked me back so anything would work anyway. But there was also one situation, we were at the Avengers Tower at a party. We danced a lot and I told her that I love her for the first time and we kissed.. all Avengers saw it so it was kinda awkward" he laughed quietly "and you?"

"Well, it was more complicated" Charles chuckled again "Ivonne's a telepath so if she wanted to, she could've known the truth immediately. But I wanted to tell her myself and I did. It was in the middle of a battle, she was injured. I took her away from the battlefield, tried to cheer her up and it just... happened. She was first girl I ever kissed"

"Wow now that's elite" Steve couldn't help laughing a bit "what was your friends' reaction to you two dating?"

"Raven said she wasn't surprised, Hank said that he knew it all along, Erik didn't care, only Peter and Alex were totally shocked and didn't stop joking about it since then" Charles made a face that let Steve know that he doesn't like Peter and Alex's jokes "oh, and Logan said that it's really nice to hear that we're happy and stuff, only one normal person really"

"Well my friends were supportive, at least most of them. Nat was totally in heaven when I told her, she told me she shipped us from the beginning, Tony joked about it but he was genuinely happy for us, Clint said that he will take care of our kids when we have them, Vision as he has in habit, was VERY much like Tony but nicer, Thor said that he can arrange us a nice wedding in Asgard and Bruce... well Bruce was in shock but in a nice shock I mean he was happy but shocked"

"I would love to meet your friends"

"And I'd love to meet yours"

------------------------- "Softcore"

So, after some more talks they came out with a plan. It was simple: find The Avengers and maybe some X-Men and make a team out of that. They weren't sure if it will work and if anyone would be interested but they thought they should do it anyway. In worst case they would just end up alone and fight without any help.

They all started training, each one different. Steve trained with his shield, mostly ran around an obstacle course Ivonne made for him. Verch trained sword fighting as she was great in it and it was useful. Ivonne trained her powers in other obstacle course which also included using knifes. Charles just walked around the town trying to confuse people.

After two weeks they were ready. They suited up and walked out on the lawn.

"Alright, yall ready?" Ivonne asked them "I'm opening the portal"

They watched her as she moved her hands in some kind of circle and then pushed it forward. Portal opened.

"Welcome to the Avengers reality" she said with some fear in her voice "everyone remembers who they need to find?"

Everyone remembered so they went through the portal. They appeared in New York, near the Avengers Tower.

"Good luck" Verch said "see you soon"

Steve walked down the street to the Tower, Verch caught a bus to Louisiana, Ivonne quickly found out which way she should go and Charles turned back and went to the city centre.

------------------------- "Stargazing"

Steve was standing before the Tower. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He took a lift to highest floor. The lift stopped and he got out. He was home.

His best friends were here but who should he talk to first? Who would believe him? Sam was in his house, Bucky also was away and Scott... well he didn't know but he definitely was not here. Suddenly the idea flashed in his head. Thor! He would believe him if he wasn't in Asgard. Steve went to the living room, expecting at least one of his friends to be there. He was right but the person chilling on the sofa wasn't Thor.

"Steve! You're back" Clint shouted as he saw Steve coming "where have you been mate?!"

"Oh you wouldn't believe me" Steve hugged his friend "I was in alternate reality"

"For real?! Oh God this is amazing!" Clint looked now like a puppy whom you offered a walk "how does it look like, are the people nice, do I exist there, are there superheroes, is there McDonald-"

"Clint please don't ask me this much questions in one minute, my brain aches" Steve laughed "it's pretty much like ours, but there are no Avengers, their superheroes are called X-Men"

"Did you meet them?" Clints eyes shone like two stars from excitement

"Yes, to be honest I lived with two of them in one house for three weeks. They're really nice" Steve tried to calm Clint down

"What superpowers do they have?" Clint couldn't stop asking

"They're both telepaths but one has also powers pretty much like Wanda's"

"What are their names and can I meet them?"

"They are Charles and Ivonne and no, you cannot you HAVE TO. We need your help to patch the multiversal mess up"

"OH. MY. GOD IM GONNA TRAVEL TO ANOTHER UNIVERSE" Clint yelled so loud that he woke up Tony

"Why are you yelling Clint" Tony asked with a sleepy voice "Oh hey Steve, I thought you died"

"Hello Tony, no I'm not dead" Steve was not surprised with Tony's joke "Clint you tell him, I'm gonna find and informate the rest"

"Of course Cap" Clint saluted as Steve walked to the kitchen. Steve heard Clint happily explain everything to Tony and Tony sobbing cause he didn't understand anything from Clint's babbling.

"At least they didn't change" Steve whispered to himself.

---------------------------------

Verch got out of the bus and looked around. She was in Louisiana and she needed to find one person. From what Steve told her and she knew herself she figured out that she needs to go to the forest so she did. Few minutes later she walked onto a lawn. She saw a nice looking house and two kids playing outside of it.

"Hey boys" she smiled at them "can you tell me if Sam Wilson lives here?"

"Yup, he does" the taller one answered "should I ask him to come here?"

"Yes, thank you" Verch answered. Boys went to the house and she waited outside. After a minute Sam walked out of the house.

"Oh my, Verch! Hi its been a while" he smiled and hugged her "it's so nice to see you"

"Back at you Birdie" Verch hugged him back

"So what is going on? I know that you want something from me, what happened?"

"Multiverse. Steve, I and our new friends are assembling the team to fix the problem"

"Let me guess, your new friends are not from our world"

"How did you- okay nevermind. Yes they are, and they will help us a lot. When we get everyone from our universe we gonna find heroes from theirs"

"Who do you have for now?"

"Me, Steve, Clint for sure, maybe Nat and Bruce, Thor, Tony if he will not laugh at Steve and you"

"Nice team, what about Wanda and Vision?"

"We don't know where to find them. But we will ask Doctor Strange if he wants to join"

"Oh that's great, are you gonna ask Bucky? I personally think he would be very useful"

"Right, we have that covered tho. One of our new friends is going to ask him"

"Is he or she a good fighter? Just in case Bucky gets,, you know scared"

"She's a telepath"

"Well then I think she will handle him. Also, I'm in. I wanna be in the team"

"Thanks Sam"

------------------------------

Ivonne stopped before a bar. She felt persistence of Bucky Barnes inside it. Thanks to everything Steve told her about him, he was easy to find. But, she was a telepath so everyone was easy to find for her.

She entered the bar and quickly located Barnes. He was sitting in the darkest corner, alone. She took her chance and sat at other side of his table.

"What do you want" he asked her, his voice sounded a bit russian.

"I want your help, James" she used his first name cause she didn't know if she can call him Bucky.

"Wow I see youre informed" he sounded chill but she felt his thoughts - his head was flashing red lights

"Not to worry James, I'm not your enemy, i don't want to hurt you. I'm Ivonne Xavier, Steve Rogers sent me" she thought it won't be a good idea to reveal her powers till she won't fully trust him

"So that's how you knew my name" he finally raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were nearly same color to Charles'.

"Yeah. Stev- WE need your help. Multiverse emerged and we need everyone we can get help from to fix it. You are on the list"

"We? Who do you mean?"

"Me, Steve, Verch and my fiancé. Also the entire world and probably the whole multiverse"

"Wait.. you're not from our universe are you? No, don't answer, if you were you would've been recruited by the Avengers long time ago. You clearly have superpowers"

"How did you know?"

"When you entered the bar, door opened but you didn't use your arm for this. Yes, you raised your hand but none of your muscles moved when you opened the door. Small detail, I think noone spotted it except me"

"Wow you have nice sight. Anyway, do you wanna join our funky team?"

"Give me time to think about it" he thought about something for a second "come back in two hours. I'll tell you what I decided"

"Sure. See you in two hours then" she stood up and left with a thought that James is definitely hiding something, but she didn't know what. Yet.

----------------------------------

177A Bleeker Street. Charles read the address and looked at the building he had in front of him. He was at the right place. He knew it not only because the address was right but also because he sensed someone very powerful inside of the building. Probably Doctor Strange. Now he needed to convince Sorcerer Supreme to help him.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. He was in a big hall, before him there were huge stairs. He raised his hand to his head and "scanned" the area upstairs. Nothing.

"Well, you're a telepath. Nice gift" Charles heard a voice on his right. He moved around and saw a tall, dark haired man in a long, red cloak.

"You're Doctor Strange right? Steve Rogers sent me, we need your help"

"Yes, it's me. And what do you need help with? Multiverse, maybe?"

"Exactly. So you already know something about it"

"Yes, it is in fact a multiverse, and I suppose you are from a parallel universe, am I right?"

"You are. Anyway, would you help us fix the problem? You would help a lot, cause we don't know much about realities, universes and stuff like that"

"Let me think.. yeah I think I can help you. In fact, I was actually gonna start looking for a solution for the multiverse issue and I've already collected some clues"

"That's great! When do we start?"

-------------------------------

4 notes · View notes

walpurga-nacht-academy · 3 years

Note

Can I ask what types of relationships does your school and their students have with NRC and their students?

It’s here, and it’s a behemoth lol. Thank you very much for your ask, Anon! It ended up being super long, lol. 👀

WNA-NRC: The two have a long history together and are considered to be part of the top three magical schools alongside RSA. However, due to their similar values and principles WNA and NRC have always had more of a closer bond. The two schools have a ‘monthly campus visit’ policy in which students from both schools are able to make visits between campuses. WNA girls usually visit at the beginning of the month, while NRC boys return the favour at the end. The purpose of those visits is to have the schools maintain their friendly relationships with each other and observe the going-ons of each institution. NRC’s more modern approach has become of high interest to WNA, who’s more traditionally inclined, and their Headmistress has insisted very much on this bond being preserved even now. The schools are often considered ‘siblings schools’, with WNA being NRC’s sister and NRC being WNA’s brother.

The students themselves have a much less formal relationship. WNA are stereotypically extremely shrewd and mischievous, a bundle of chaos hiding behind the face of an angel. They enjoy visits to the NRC campus because it gives them the opportunity to go wild and have fun, something that WNA’s more strict environment doesn’t permit them. Moreover, visiting gives them plenty of opportunities to create mischief and flirt with the boys there for their own amusement.

Moreover, WNA also organises the Spring Debutante Ball every year in March which is an event that brings the three schools together for a night of socialising and dancing. The girls actually have a small notebook which lists all the boys’ charm points and use it as a means of choosing “targets”.

Ruggie, Jamil, Deuce and Jade ended up being extremely popular among the students population of WNA due to various reasons, while people like Leona, Malleus and Vil are considered part of the ‘look, but don’t approach’ category because they’re considered annoyingly difficult to deal with.

During the Magift Inter-school Tournament between NRC and RSA, WNA girls are known to lead the chants for the two schools, with drums and megaphones, much like an ōendan. They also attend the VDC as spectators each year, and they look forward to seeing the boys perform songs and dances.

Ursa Astoria: The Headmistress of WNA is familiar with both the Headmaster of NRC as well as its History teacher. Ursa’s more strict and formal approach often clashes with Crowley’s more laissez-faire attitude. Many have noted that they look eerily similar to a grandmother scolding her unruly grandchild when they interact, since Ursa is quick to lecture Crowley on not keeping a tight enough grip on his students and letting them run wild at school. “A little mischief is good to keep the heart young, but they should never need more than a glance to know when to stop.” However when she’s not scolding him, the two get along quite well, getting together for tea every three months or so. Crowley himself bends rather easily in front of Ursa due to the sheer power of her personality and presence.

She and Trein know each other from when they were young, and he was her NRC escort during the Spring Debutante Ball. According to Alkin they even dated for a while but broke up due to their very differing personalities: him being a cat person, and she a bird one. The break up was amicable, and even to this day they remain good friends.

Frau Perchta Yaga: Though she refuses to reveal how, it seems that Yaga is familiar with Crowley. Though they rarely interact, because Crowley goes out of his way to avoid her whenever he’s visiting WNA.

Alkin: Crowley once mentioned that he does not get along with cats, and this applies to his relationship with Alkin to a certain extent as well. Though the two are not hostile to one another, Crowley gets rather irked by the way Alkin dismisses his presence or ignores him when he doesn’t feel like dealing with him. Alkin simply does not care much for the NRC Headmaster. Though the two seem to have a past together, neither really talks about it all that much.

Moreover, Alkin seems familiar with Lilia as well and on much more neutral terms. He does however comment that he finds it odd that the fairy would agree to pose as a high school student at his age.

Rosenhex

Traditionally Rosenhex students have always had good relations with Pomefiore, and it is especially true for this generation as well. The two dorms have similar attitudes regarding beauty and how to achieve it through hard work, however while Pomefiore specialises in potions and poisons, Rosenhex specialises in charms and enchantments.

The Prefect of this dorm, Rosalia, is a work colleague of Vil and the two have collaborated before on some modelling gigs and movies. Rosa admires him quite a bit because he is in a similar position to her (wishing not to be typecast anymore) and his refusal to take any more villainous roles has also inspired her to speak up and tell her manager she’ll be dropping the role of ‘Cherry’. The two have an amicable relationship that is mutually beneficial to both parties.

Vil was also the one who introduced her to Jack, who is her love interest. Because Rosa wanted to audition for a role that required a ‘wild image’ she asked Vil for advice, who referred her to Jack suggesting that she observe him and his mannerisms since among the Savanaclaw dorm, he considers Jack the best example of what a proper beastman should be when portrayed in media. Rosa and Jack get along quite well, as both enjoy exercise and sports. It’s a typical teen romance and Rosa’s first actual crush that ends up going anywhere. Though for the longest time she was very scared of taking a step beyond ‘crush’ for fear of ruining their relationship, so it took Jack taking charge and confessing to actually make realise it was time to move to the next stage.

Much like with Vil, Rosa seems to have a positive relationship with Rook, who does praise her for trying to adopt an image that tends towards ‘wild beauty’, saying that is also fantastic to witness. Among the many negative comments Rosa received on her Witch Dance performance livestream, Rook’s was one of the few positive ones.

She doesn’t have a good relationship with Cater on the other hand, since he constantly asks for a selfie with her due to her celebrity status. She’s left behind the image of ‘Cherry’ and so she doesn’t want to be associated with it anymore.

Grimmaire

Traditionally Grimmaire students have had good relationships with the Octavinelle dorm, but the recent change in leadership has caused the Prefect, Blanche, to distance herself from it. She does not approve of their underhanded way of doing things, thus it seems that she’s become rather close to Heartslaybyul instead.

Riddle is Blanche’s love interest and fellow study partner. The two met during his first year at NRC where during an Unbirthday Party, Blanche commented on the lacking form of the then Prefect who was unable to recite the 810 rules of the Queen of Hearts. After Riddle became Prefect he invited her back to Heartslaybyul to ‘wash’ the dorm’s reputation in the eyes of WNA. Because both are rather studious they often communicate with each other to discuss all sorts of ideas and articles. In typical Grimmaire fashion, Blanche left an encrypted note containing a riddle in one of the books she lent him and ever since then the two have started to talk to each other via this method. They enjoy this highly intellectual rapport they have with the other, even though it does take both of them quite a while to realise they’re romantically interested in the other.

More surprisingly, Blanche has a good relationship with both Ace and Deuce, but for completely different reasons. Deuce looks up to her as a fellow model students he wishes to learn how to emulate to make his mother proud. Ace initially considered her a stick in the mud, and overly serious, until she unexpectedly cracked a really good joke and he was blown away by the contrast. Now both of them look forward to her arrival but for entirely different reasons. Blanche herself is rather fond of them too, and even strives to tutor them sometimes, with Ace finds bothersome and Deuce appreciates very much.

Kriegskald

Under normal circumstances, Kriegskald would get along best with Ignihyde given their interest in magical constructions. However, due to the girls’ forceful personalities and the boys’ more reclusive nature they tend to clash quite often. The fact that Kriegskald tends towards steampunk, while Ignihyde tends towards cybernetics also makes it more unlikely that they would get along. The current Prefect, Marcia, was initially interested in trying to recruit Idia as a sponsor so her broom racing career to take off properly, but has had no such luck, so she gave up and set her sights on somebody else.

It just so happens that that somebody is none other than the heir of a multimillionaire family. Whenever Marcia visits NRC she always pays a visit to Kalim, to hang in Scarabia, enjoy the good food and try to talk him into giving her money and/or become her sponsor. Kalim himself seems quite willing to do so, since Marcia’s enthusiasm for flying is on the same level as his, so the two have a lot of discussions on this particular topic. Her attempts at getting him to sponsor her always fail however due to Jamil’s interference, who always reminds Kalim he can’t give out his money away like that just because someone asks for it. He and Marcia don’t have the most positive relationship as a result, with her complaining that he shouldn’t be so strict on Kalim, and him pointing out she just says that because she wants to scam him.

Another person Marcia keeps bothering about sponsoring is Leona, who as the second prince of the Afterglow Savannah should have the necessary funds to sponsor an athlete. She did not have much luck there either as Leona either completely avoids her, or pretends he’s in deep sleep when she does come across him. They have spent more than a few afternoons in this position in which Marcia patiently waits for him to wake up, while Leona actually falls asleep while pretending. Though he is annoyed by her persistence, he does find her efforts impressive in their sheer stubbornness.

Marcia has attempted to talk to Malleus on this topic too, but has always been stopped by Sebek, who yells at her about bothering the ‘Young Master’ and being a suspicious person. The two don’t really get along, as Marcia finds his constant interventions annoying, and Sebek is enraged that she would dare bother Malleus about this sort of thing. It’s generally a disaster when Sebek catches Marcia trying to get into Diasomnia.

Galdtrea

Because plants are often used in alchemy, Pomefiore and Galdtrea usually have a positive relationship. However, the current Prefect seems to not be able to get along at all with Vil, due to their clashing worldviews. June has a similar opinion of his dorm as she has of Rosenhex: frivolous rich city kids who never worked a day in their life. The fact that Vil is on good terms with Rosa only strengthens her opinion and she tends to avoid Pomefiore and its students usually, since she flies off the handle easily. The only exception to this being Epel, who eventually becomes her love interest. She did not think much of him at first, as she considered him a mere scaredy cat, rich and spoiled kid, but was very surprised when he shot off at her after becoming angry enough. As fellow farmers they understand better than anybody what it means to struggle with hard work and responsibilities, so June feels like there is someone who finally understands what her struggles are.

When coming to NRC she usually spends her time in the botanical gardens checking out the plants and planting techniques used there. Because she avoids Rook, since she thinks he’s creepy, she usually accidentally bumps into Trey, who she considers more bearable. Though she gets frustrated if they get on the topics of families, since his ‘Big Brother’ aura makes her incredibly annoyed. They usually just stick to the topic of plants as a result.

Another person June seems to potentially get along with is Jamil. I say potentially because while they seem able to bond over their shared helplessness in terms of not having autonomy over their own person, June gets annoyed by the fact that Jamil does not simply tell Kalim off when he’s being unreasonable. She does not understand Jamil’s loyalty to his family at all, and just gets annoyed at him not really doing anything about his situation. She’s very much ruled by her emotions so his calculated approach is not something she can resonate with.

Monarchia

Traditionally Monarchia has always been close to Savanaclaw due to their similar aesthetic. The two dorms are sufficiently wild that they mesh together quite well, and they are most at ease in each other’s company. Moreover, Monarchia girls are rather respected among the Savanaclaw dorm and often adopt a big sister-like figure to the boys. It’s most prominent with Monarchia’s Prefect who is also treated like a Big Sister by her girls. Diana’s wild tendencies and close connection to animals make her blend right in with Savanaclaw’s roughness. As a citizen of the Afterglow Savannah and a follower of pack hierarchy, she respects the Kingscholar greatly, and thus Leona by default. Though she claims she is a bit disappointed by how Leona doesn’t display the same ferocity he did three years ago since she considered it ‘beautiful’. Leona on his part says he dislikes being nagged like this, but also seems to appreciate the fact that Diana takes him as he is and doesn’t compare him to his older brother. She is also on good terms with Jack and Ruggie who she treats similarly to how she treats her younger brothers.

Because she is a big eater, she also frequents Mostro Lounge and ends up spending time in the company of Azul who is her love interest. Their first meeting was a disaster, with Diana calling him “a newborn calf” due to how unstable he was on his feet during his first year on land. Spurned by anger, Azul made it a point to try and get her to sign a contract to steal her magic and humiliate her in return, but it just lead to a game of cat and mouse which eventually resulted in feelings forming. Though he’s very much in denial about it for a long time.

Diana also gets along quite well with the Leech brothers, in the sense that they recognise each other as fellow predators. The two are somewhat impressed by her utter fearlessness as not even Floyd’s threats of ‘squeezing’ her seem to have had any effect on her. Because she’s proving to be quite amusing they became fond of her, though that feeling is always subject to change. Floyd calls her ‘crocodile-chan-senpai’ and likes to bother her for stories about the beasts and monsters she tamed and fought throughout her life. He sometimes even listens to her requests, in the same vein he listens to Rook and Vil. Jade is amused by her sharp mind and killer instincts, and likes having discussions on various topics with her. They both like to needlessly grill Azul about his feelings for Diana for their own amusement.

Diana’s oddest relationship is with Rook, who seems to find her wild tendencies very charming and fascinating, while she’s annoyed by him due to the fact that he calls himself a ‘hunter’. Having had a bad run in with poachers in the past, she does not take kindly to people hunting animals for trophies, rather than sustenance. Rook’s presence makes her alert and cautious, and his general oddness just makes her more suspicious of him. Rook’s own fascination for her seems to stem from the fact that, as he puts it, her eyes occasionally sparkle with something inhuman in them. Like she’s more beast than human.

Oraluna

Traditionally, Oraluna has always had close ties with Scarabia, as both dorms have an interest in star movements and researching their patterns. While it continues to maintain them, the current Prefect, Cassandra, has shown interest in forging relationships with Diasomnia as well. This is mostly due to her vested interest in learning more about her fairy heritage and having heard that the future King of the Valley of Thorns is attending Night Raven she thinks it would be nice to be acknowledged by him as a fairy as well. Unfortunately, her shy nature makes it difficult for her to approach Malleus. She respects him greatly, to the point she idolises him, but it also means she finds in difficult to get along with him since she’s always worried about offending him by accident. So she tries to work up her courage to talk to him, while Malleus simply regards her as a bit odd, and is uncomfortable with the fact that she acts so scared around him. He merely wants to experience a normal high school life so he does not understand why Cass behaves as if he expects everybody to treat him in a special manner.

Cass also shows a lot of respect towards Lilia too, which means that she falls for his pranks rather easily. He always claims to teach her about fairy customs and traditions but he mostly makes up stories for his own amusement. Cass does not contradict his claims no matter how absurd they are, because she thinks it would be rude. On the other hand, she seems to actually consider Lilia’s cooking delicious which endears her to him greatly and makes him approve of her eventual friendship and relationship with his son. Out of everybody in Diasomnia, Cass feels closest to Silver, who is her love interest. His diligent nature and kindness won her over completely and she thinks of him as the knight who saved the damsel in distress her grandmother would often tell her about when she was young. Silver himself seems to find Cass a bit odd due to her professed love for his father’s cooking and other quirks, but overall sweet and endearing.

She seems to have a somewhat positive relationship with Sebek too, since she idolises Malleus too, so they often openly praise him to one another. Sebek seems not to mind Cass’ presence as much since she obviously understands Malleus’ greatness. However, after Lilia begins to teach her how to embrace her fae ancestry, he’s among her only victims when it comes to the pranks she pulls. They are extremely innocuous and rather lame, as Ace might bluntly put it, but Sebek still falls for them every time to everybody’s amazement.

She also seems to have a bad relationship with Azul since he tried to talk her into coming to do some fortune telling for Mostro Lounge customers as a special treat. She categorically refused him since it reminded her too much of when people asked her to tell their fortune just to profit off her abilities. Ever since then, she’s completely avoided him whenever she comes to visit.

Eliksia

The dorm which Eliksia normally got along with would be Pomefiore, since they both have a clear focus on alchemy. However, current Eliksia Prefect, Agatha, seems to deeply dislike Vil due to him being one of those ‘shiny’ people she despises. His positive relationship with Rosa, which Agatha also hates, only makes her more convinced Vil is not the sort of person she wants to have around, so she has completely avoided him and the Pomefiore dorm building ever since she became Prefect.

As a result, whenever she visits the NRC campus she mostly hangs around Sam’s shop, who she considers her ‘Big Brother’ due to him having helped her gain a human form when she first expressed a desire to explore the surface world. His help has gained him her eternal gratitude so she makes sure to visit each time she’s on campus. She merely huddles in a corner and makes conversation with him about various topics which invariably freak out anybody who eavesdrops on them. She likes how Sam won’t judge her for behaving the way she does, and makes sure to always buy something as a show of appreciation for letting her hide in there.

Other people Agatha can’t stand are Kalim, Ace, Deuce, Rook, Cater, Trey, Riddle- It would actually be easier to count the number of people she does like and that’s mostly only Ortho. Though she was initially skeptical of him due to being related to Idia (who she thinks is not good enough for her Big Sister), she eventually warmed up to him when she realised how knowledgeable and how absolutely deadly he actually is. The fact that he does not make fun of her appearance and has even complimented her teeth (because they look his Idia’s) has only made her fonder of him. So she does not mind if he approaches her for a chat when she’s on the NRC campus.

She does not get along at all with the Leech twins, since she considers them bigger predators and Floyd annoys her Big Sister, nor with Azul, since octopuses eat crustaceans too, which are the main food source for flashlight fish like her. She generally tends to avoid them since she can’t really stand them all that much.

Noctasis

The dorm’s dark elegance and grace has traditionally made it a good fit for Diasomnia who exhibits a similar aesthetic. Though that would usually be the case, the current Prefect, Vita, is much closer to Idia, which is natural given that the two are engaged and he is her love interest. As they were betrothed when they were five and six years old respectively, they are childhood friends. Vita’s more forceful personality often clashes with Idia’s more reserved one on the surface, but they are in actuality pretty in sync. Vita appreciates Idia’s intelligence as well as his mean side and takes delight in encouraging him to express his displeasure more loudly, rather than be afraid of what others might think of him. Idia cannot understand how Vita can care so little for what others think about her, but also admires this side of her. She’s very devoted to him, but does not mean she will hold back when she whips him in shape so he’ll be a more functional person and more confident in himself. On the whole the two get along quite well, and are gaming buddies, since Idia taught her how to play video games when they were younger. She’s become quite proficient at it however, much to Idia’s ire since it means she often beats his high scores. He’s also tried getting her into anime, manga or light novels but has had no luck on that front yet. Vita also calls him ‘husband’ generally, which he initially found embarrassing but now doesn’t mind anymore. The two also have a dog (Kerberos breed) together who spends most of the time with Vita, but is extremely attached to Idia as well.

Vita also has a good relationship with Ortho, in theory at least. Because he’s Idia’s brother she treats him well and is very pleasant to him, but is also uncomfortable in his presence to a certain degree. His creation goes against her family’s beliefs and Idia clings to him as a security blanket which makes it difficult for him to learn how to move on from the past, which bothers Vita quite a bit. But she understands it’s not Ortho’s fault so she takes most of her complaints to her husband, something that causes quite a few fights between them. Ortho himself is unaware of this.

Incidentally, it was Ortho who gave her the nickname ‘Vita’ when they were young children and it stuck The fact that Ortho uses it even now gives her mixed feelings.

Another person Vita gets along with is Ruggie since she found him amusing in his attempt to get close to the Shrouds because they’re a noble family. His mischievous personality also endears him to her more and thus she’s become fond of having him around or taking him to Mostro Lounge to buy him lunch and get the latest gossip regarding the students of NRC. Ruggie himself also seems to like Vita since she’s very generous with her money and sometimes jokingly even calls her ‘Big Sis’ (in the same manner delinquent girls are called ‘big sis’ within their group).

Vita also finds a lot of enjoyment in annoying Azul ever since she met him at Idia’s club. Whenever she drops by Mostro Lounge with Ruggie she also seeks out Azul just to entertain herself on his behalf by trying ruffle his feathers. For a provocation expert like her the task is very enjoyable, though she also has to put up with Floyd’s unpleasant presence too. She is on better terms with Jade who is somewhat similar to her in that he enjoys trolling him, and the two often have repartees whenever they have time to chat, speaking in metaphors and odd allusions.

These are all the very condensed versions, but I plan to make some posts dedicated just to relationship mapping since I find it interesting. 👀

Also, I know there are some peeps that have WNA OCs so do feel free to join in with how your OCs interact with NRC if you want to!

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