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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

#yelena #snk yelena #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #yelena brainrot #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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scribeofmorpheus · 5 years

Text

Himmeløyne [4/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Words: 4k | Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: Mild violence, barely anything worth warning about tbh.

A/N: Despite the slow start, I can guarantee the next three chapters will heat up a bit. Also, I’m really excited to use Sif more narratively. I’m quite excited to see how the dynamic will be in the next chapter given our heroes current predicament at the end. Also, I apologize, this chapter defeated me, it’s not the best, but I had fun writing for Brokkr.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

A row of guards took up defensive positions against you, moving around until you were surrounded in a circle. Loki had been subtly ramping up the difficulty of each sparring match after his defeat. This was simply another one of his stunts.

You dug your heels into the courtyards lawn. Your sparring party advanced like butterflies on a string, when one moved the other adapted, keeping the circle as perfectly formed as possible.

You deflected sword swings, axe thrusts, flinging daggers and shield bashes as deftly and gracefully as you could. You relied more on your light footing and magical abilities than brute force.

Once a soldier knocked you off balance or onto the ground, Sif would bang her sword onto her shield and shout sternly, "Again!"

You'd groan, roll your eyes and storm back into the fray. Each reset made your limbs feel heavy, each knock made your muscles ache and each time Sif banged on her shield you wanted to use your abilities to bang it against her stern face. Seeing her everywhere, cold eyes, grim line across her lips, each day, every day, was driving you slightly insane. And more than a little agitated.

Loki and Frigga were nowhere to be seen this morning. Loki had spent more time doing research since his defeat- he was undoubtedly sulking. For a god, he certainly had a flair for the dramatic. For a prince, his behaviour seemed appropriate.

Suddenly, a shield crashed into your chest and you left you feeling winded, knocking the air out your lungs.

"Ughhh!" You collapsed. The soldier retreated to his original position.

"Again!" Sif banged on her shield.

You rolled your eyes like clockwork.

"I need one damn minute," you tried to catch your breath.

"Your enemy won't give you the privilege of a respite. Again!"

Sif ordered louder than before.

"Gaaah!" You flung your hands from exasperation while still on your knees. What you hadn't intended to happen was cause several soldiers to hurtle backwards from a wave of air.

Sif took cover behind her shield and hunkered on one knee to stay in place. When she stood back up she looked at you with both disbelief and fear hiding behind anger.

"Oops, sorry." You rose your hands up cautiously, biting your lip to keep from laughing. An apologetic look making your eyes flutter wide-eyed. "Water break?"

All the men rose from their fallen positions and groaned in agreement, dropping their weapons onto the grass while they stretched out their joints. Sif stood back up and followed you to the water barrels.

~LOKI

Loki turned the page of the book hovering above the table without the use of his hands, legs crossed at the ankle on the table. His fingers were busy working on an octagonal puzzle piece, eyes fixed on the magic reflective pool that allowed him to keep an eye on Y/N while she sparred in the courtyard.

A pleased smile spread across his face when he saw her fling several soldiers through the air accidentally. The childish face she pulled when Sif scowled at her intrigued him. It was almost adorable.

"Why do you watch her so?" Frigga asked as she walked into the library.

"Curiosity," Loki admitted as he stopped toying with the puzzle, setting it down on the table and stretching from the stiffness that ached at his bent spine.

Frigga smiled, "I've seen you curious, and this isn't the same."

Loki stopped the magic that caused the pages to turn on the book, it slumped loudly onto the surface of the table as lifeless as it was supposed to be.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Is that why you tried to convince Father to let her stay? Why you made me teach her the ropes when we both know you'd be a better teacher? So you could play matchmaker?"

Frigga took a turn about the room, her hand gliding over each books leather-bound spine at shoulder level. "I simply want what's best for you."

Loki scoffed sarcastically, "Because Father would definitely approve."

"Besides, I thought that by giving you something to do you'd stop playing tricks on your poor brother. You know how much he despises your aptitude for… trickery."

"It's not my fault he's a boorish brute, too thick-headed to see through simple guises," Loki snaked.

Frigga used her magic to fling a book at his head, "Don't be so hard on him."

Loki ducked away from the on-coming book and it, in turn, gently placed itself back on the shelf.

Loki laughed, "He makes it too easy."

"One of these days, my son, someone will wipe that smirk from your face," Frigga said.

"Well, until then," Loki jumped off his seat and went to retrieve another book from the shelf. "I'll just have to ensure this handsome face finds reasons to smirk." He pointed at his lips as he flipped through pages, eyes narrowing when he saw something of interest. "If you'll excuse me, Mother, I have a mystery to solve."

"Don't undo the fabric of the universe," Frigga sighed before making her way to her chambers.

~Y/N

Your rest was uneasy, as was par for the course recently. Every time you shut your eyes, you were reminded of all the things you wished you could have forgotten. Smoke serpenting towards the moon; blood-stained snow; giants slashing bodies in half; marked blue skin; demon red eyes; a cold sharp implement serrating through your chest; drowning in blood.

Your mood had begun to suffer ever since you woke up in a strange world surrounded by the god-like beings you once revered.

It helped that most of your days were kept busy by training with Loki or doing research in the libraries, it was your time alone that you dreaded. You had even grown to find comfort in the ever-watchful gaze of your protector, Sif.

You had been tossing and turning all night. It was discomforting how invasive the light in Asgard could get. It may have been mesmerising each morning to awaken to such spectacular, brilliant skies, but it also got annoying when all you wanted to see when you closed your eyes was pitch black. The world here didn't turn to blackness like it did on Earth. There was always a lit lantern, a light shimmering, a star too bright.

Asgard's odd placement and flat surface in the universe meant that the sun didn't rise and fall as it did on earth, and yet the skies would grow darker as though it did. Magic, you assumed. However, its effectiveness was like covering your eyes with lace or a mesh cloth, light still got through the tiny holes.

When you finally conceded to your agitated mood and stopped trying to force yourself to sleep, you put on your long sheer cloak and made your way to a balcony that overlooked the waterfall at just the right angle. No buildings obstructing and a clear line of sight of the statue of Bor.

This was one of the few places where guards were scarce. Sif however, was lingering within the shadows a few paces away. No matter how much time passed, she never failed to watch you like a hawk, making you feel closed in and unwelcome some days.

Your frustration started to bubble to the surface and the leaves budding off the vines entwined around the balcony columns shivered from the outward ripple of your power.

You remembered one of Loki's key teachings and rolled your shoulders until they slumped back and your head was tilted to the star-speckled sky. You closed your eyes and took in several deep, slow breaths.

"Do you ever sleep?" You asked just loud enough for Sif to hear you.

After a beat, you heard her footsteps advance towards you until she was close enough to touch, her body showing signs of fatigue for the first time as she leaned against the balcony railing.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," her tone sounded alarmingly close to being amiable.

You were taken aback by her more approachable demeanour, Sif almost looked at ease. For once you didn't feel like a pariah surrounded by people who only looked at you with caution and fear, anticipating the worst from you. Maybe it was because you were used to Sif being the forbearer of such responses to your actions, it felt freeing to have her so close and not armed to the teeth.

"I barely sleep," you tried to get her to open up a bit more.

Sif kept her eyes locked straight ahead, "I know."

"You must be looking forward to the day Odin and Thor return. You won't have to hover over me through each waking moment."

"I am."

"Oh..." Her bluntness stung a little.

Sif noticed your posture droop, "I worry for them. I'm frustrated they chose not to take me with, but they had no problem taking those three idiots with."

"Them?"

"Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg… and Thor." Her lips flickered.

"Oh, the fabled Warrior's Three. My mother used to tell me tales of their adventures," you said with a bitter-sweet fondness.

"D- do you miss your family?" Sif seemed a little adamant to ask the question.

You swallowed hard, your hand touching the scar on your chest instinctively. You remembered everything with excruciating detail.

"With every breath."

"I can't begin to imagine..."

"Don't," your voice was a cold warning despite its low range.

Feeling the air turn stale with dread, Sif tried to shift the mood, "You should take up weapon practice. Magic, though powerful, has its limitations."

You played with your magic, prompting a bud to bloom under your touch. "What do you suggest?"

Sif thought long and hard, "It will take weeks for your arms to grow accustomed to Asgardian steel. I'm assuming most of your shields were fashioned from wood which means you've got the muscle for lighter materials. Perhaps a weapon with range. Something light and agile that won’t slow you down."

"My mother was an archer in her youth, taught me a thing or two about hunting," you spoke softly, reminiscing about the past.

Sif hummed in agreement, "A bow would be a perfect weapon for you. I believe the Dwarf blacksmith Brokkr is still here. We can speak to him about fashioning you a bow."

Sif pulled her night shawl around her arms, her braces covered by purple fabric.

"He's probably still in the tavern," she mused. "Care for a stroll?"

You were more than elated at the idea, "I have nothing better to do."

***

The tavern was saturated with the stench of mead and stale bread. In the corner, a bard played his minstrel with numbed fingers, nose and ears red from drink. The tune he played out was off on several notes and more than a little out of rhythm.

The bar-wench was wiping down the tables while men more sober than the patrons wheeled unopened casks of mead into a back room.

Even though you hadn't spent much time in taverns, this particular scene seemed homely to you. A smile crept onto your face. The bar-wench eyeing you suspiciously, but without the usual hints of fear.

"Wait here, I'll go ask Magda if she's seen Brokkr," Sif told you as she left to converse with the bar-wench.

You strolled around, eyeing each drunk burly sized man and woman that were half passed out on the furniture. The fireplace grabbed your attention, the thought of being showered by a million splinters made you shiver. You rubbed your eyes, starting when Sif tapped your elbow.

"She said they're in the back," Sif pointed to a doorway blocked off by some drapes in the back. "Here-" she pulled the hood of your cloak over your head. "Best not stir any suspicious eyes."

"What's back there?" You asked.

"That is where the Game of the Fates is played," she replied.

"Game of the Fates?"

"You'll see," Sif reassured you. "Magda says there's quite a crowd today. Don't wander off, you're still a stranger to most here."

Sif pried the dividing drape to the side, allowing you to slink through the small opening, she followed behind and you waited for her to lead the way.

In a dark corner to the south of the building, a rounded, muscly Dwarf with dreading hair and an unkempt beard running all the way down to his navel, sat on a set of small furnishings. His head in his hands as he burped into an empty clay jug with detailed depictions of Valkyrie's.

"Brokkr?" Sif asked, hunkering down on folded legs to keep the Dwarf's eye level.

"Begone, wench. I have no need for more ale," He waved her away without looking up.

Sif smiled and took his hand in her, applying pressure on his meaty thumb.

"Arrrg!" He reclined backwards.

"Do I look like a tavern-wench?" Sif said with patronising sweetness.

You smiled at her quiet display of brass.

"Lady Sif, forgive me, I didn't see you there." Brokkr snatched his hand away once Sif released it. "What brings you to my humble table?" He sneered, glancing at you with uncertainty.

"We'd like to commission a weapon," Sif said.

"A new sword eh? I see you're without your usual choice of weapons..." Brokkr banged his two metal bracelets together, sparking like firewood, and out of thin air, a sword of pure gold manifested in his open palms. "I call it Wyndel the Crooked, because of the curved edges." He handed it to her.

Sif eyed the magnificent piece of metalwork, the gold gleaming with the fire from the torches. She balanced the hilt and flicked the blade with her nail, a resonating ping spreading outward.

"This is impressive Brokkr, somehow I feel you've been holding out on me," Sif placed the sword on the table. "Gold isn't really my colour, though."

"No, but it's hers," Brokkr's eyebrows wiggled in your direction. His concentration focused on your eyes. "Never in my years have I seen such marvellous eyes. I know of a collector who would die to have them on display."

You gulped and took a small step back.

Brokkr's yellowing teeth flashed in full view as he laughed at your frightened expression, "Relax, lass. He is a far ways from here."

Sif slapped her palm on the table, "Stop terrorising her. Back to the matter at hand."

"Right, what weapon were you thinking?"

"A bow, something fashioned from wood. Light and balanced."

Brokkr stroked his braided beard, "A bow, eh? I haven't sculpted a bow since… Well, it's been too long to remember."

Brokkr reached over into his pocket and pulled out a pair of monocles, he then snatched your hand close, dragging you towards him with impressive strength.

"Hey!" you protested but Sif placed a hand on your elbow and gestured everything was okay.

"Dainty, long, a little bony," Brokkr laughed. "Small palm, unusually long fingernails. Hmmm, yes I can work with these." Brokkr's brows frowned as he pulled your palm closer to his monocles. "These lines-" He ran a fat finger across your palm lines.

"You are haunted by terrible dreams, but some of them aren't dreams. Some haven't come to pass. Loss, pain, anger... death!" His eyes snapped to yours with wiry intensity.

You pulled back and forced your hand out of his, Brokkr stared lifelessly for a moment before turning back to Sif and regaining his relaxed posture from before. "I can have a bow ready in two days."

Feeling unnerved by what just transpired you leaned close to Sif and whispered, "I don't think I can be near him right now, I'm going to look around."

Sif nodded, "Remember not to wander too far, I am going to try and haggle a discount from this prideful fruit-cake."

You left Sif and Brokkr behind, their hushed arguing growing more and more heated the further you walked. Drawn to a gathering crowd, you pushed your way through in an effort to see what all the commotion was about.

You heard the rattle of dice inside a cup as a familiar voice spoke out coyly, "Do you honestly think your Warrior will strike down my Champion?"

A deeper, controlled voice responded, "You bestowed the favour of cunning, but not all know how to wield it as skillfully as you, my prince."

When you made your way through, you recognised Loki, sitting on a stool, fingers tapping on his lips as though he was contemplating something. The darker man beside him seemed familiar, like seeing a reflection in passing, but you couldn't say for sure if you'd ever seen him before. The two-horned helmet resting beside his sword close to his feet gave you some idea of who he might be. His gold eyes shooting in your direction, brow furrowed, jaw clenching.

You felt like you had imposed on something important, his gaze making the hair stand on your neck. You nearly fumbled out of the crowd, but Loki spotted you and rose from his stool with a great smile on his face.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite student, Y/N," He pulled a chair out from under a spectator using a flush of magical energy, causing the poor man to tumble to the floor. "Please, sit. Join us."

You gulped, afraid to hold contact with those golden eyes, "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, Heimdall doesn't mind. Do you?" Loki arched a brow at the man opposite him.

Heimdall let out a huff of air, extending his hand to the chair, "Not at all."

You sat and watched the men play a game that comprised of dice, a board, a large brass bowl with leaves burning in blue flame and several carved statuettes.

"What is this?" You whispered to Loki.

He leaned close and placed his pinkie finger on your knee as he explained in a scheming manner. Heimdall narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, making Loki's smile grow wider.

"It's called the Game of the Fates. Each carved figure is unique to each… err, we'll use the word God for lack of a better term. They represent a being we have seen fit to bestow a blessing on to try and shift the balance of fate in their favour."

Your mouth opened in a small O shape as you tried to keep track.

Loki continued, "The dye is rolled to determine whose turn it is. We each pick a number and the one who chose the number closest to the one shown on the pair of dye takes their turn. Then they stare into the flame and it reveals what has transpired, like a window through space. The one who tilts the balance in their favour the most wins."

"Wins?" You asked, almost hurt. "Sounds like you're playing with the lives of mortals, intervening with the course of action."

Loki chuckled, "Isn't that why mortals pray to us."

You squinted your eyes at Loki but you had to reconcile the fact that he had a good point, "What does the winner get in return?"

"All sorts of things," Loki removed his finger from your knee after Heimdall stared daggers at him. "In this case, we bet a secret. If I win, Heimdall gets to reveal his secret."

"And if you lose?"

This time Heimdall was the one to speak up, "Then I get to set some ground rules."

"Shall we?" Loki asked Heimdall.

Heimdall nodded.

Your eyes absentmindedly wandered to the blue flame. It began to dance and skirt, forming enflamed pictures. Then that horrid blue face with those devoid red eyes screamed at you through the fire and you felt something powerful free itself from your chest.

The sensation was so powerful you started to lean to the side, on the verge of collapsing. Heimdall tried to steady you, but as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, a golden curtain closed over your eyes as burning visions flowed into your synapses.

A smile over pink lips, laurel wreath crowning wild curls, two palms pressed together: one dark the other light. Eyes as blue as yours staring back at you.

"Mother?" You gasped within the waking dream. She didn't hear you or see you.

She was young then, younger than you ever remembered her being. The vision was off, like a memory fallen to age and constantly made to look brighter and seem more colourful.

Then your own memories mixed in and suddenly you were back on the cold ground with a sword in your chest, red eyes looking down at you in disgust.

"It's here, I can almost taste it!" The frost-giant said to someone you couldn't see

You focused on those eyes that reflected your pooling blood at you. It was as though you were willing yourself back to that point, all the anger clawing to be free, to undo the past and kill this giant that stared down at you before he could try and kill you.

Through the rush of rage, you felt your power drawing from another magical source. An older and much darker one. Through the confusion, two more hands braced around you and then you were falling through a spillway of colour.

***

"Y/N," You felt someone’s fingers lightly tapping against your cheek. "Y/N, wake up."

The cold icy feel of snow seeping through your cloak forced your snipe to shoot upwards, eyelids flying open as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"What? Where?" You tried to get the words out but you were too distraught to think straight.

"You opened a portal and took us with you," Sif relaxed back into the snow, Brokkr's golden sword next to her.

"I should have warned you," Loki walked from one edge of the cliff-face to the next, trying to get his bearings. "Never stare into the flames. They show you what it is you most desire to see. When Heimdall tried to steady you, I think you leeched onto his latent powers. He can open portal-ways, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy."

"I don't think I desired this," you searched the horizon for a landmark. "I don't even know where we are."

"Well, we aren't on Asgard anymore," Sif said.

"Judging by all this mist and how cold and dark everything looks, I think we're on Niflheim," Loki squinted across the landscape of mountains and snow and ice that stretched forever. No sign of life or civilisation.

Sif stood from the snow and shouted to the sky, "Heimdall, if you can hear us, open the bi-frost! Heimdall!"

"He can't see us," Loki said nonchalantly.

"What do you mean he can't see us?" Sif demanded.

"It's because of her," Loki pointed at you. "She bears a mark of Odin. I believe your people call it the Ægishjalmar?"

You nodded, "It's a protective marking, all the women in my family have it."

"That's a half-truth," Loki snorted. "It is a protection spell, just not from harm."

You stood to look him directly in the eye, "Then what is it?"

"What is the one thing a God, as you like to call us, would ever think mortals needed protecting from?" He asked.

"Their own kind," Sif groaned as she swung the sword at a rock in frustration. "It's a masking spell. That's why Heimdall never saw the attack. And that's why he won't be able to see us!" She kicked the snow next.

"Why would Odin try and mask my existence from your kind?" You asked the two Asgardian's.

"You're a witch and a powerful one. Whatever the source of your power-" Loki moved your cowl over your shoulder so his fingers could grace over the brand on your forearm. A shiver ran across your arm sending tingles of electricity through you. You pulled away and Loki tilted his head to the side, his face confused by the strange electric current that passed through you both. "That is probably the reason."

"Okay, then it's simple," Sif stormed over to you. "You just have to open another portal."

"I don't know how. As I said, I've never been here before," you said with annoyance. "I can barely fight let alone conjure enough power to open a portal through worlds!"

A flash of blue light swept through the snow around you, blowing it away to form a perfect circle around your knees as you crashed to the ground feeling helpless.

"The flames show you what you desire to see," Loki kneeled next to you. "What is it you desire?"

"To see my mother again."

"No, pet," He lifted your chin. "That is what you wish for, not what you truly desire. What is it that drives you each moment of every day?"

Anger flashed through you, a glow reflecting through Loki's calm eyes letting you know your eye colour had turned into a burning azure, bright and fierce.

"I want to kill him," you said through gritted teeth. "I want to feel the life leave his body. I want to destroy them all!"

Wisps of blue smoke snaked around you causing Loki and Sif to lean away from you. The mountain beginning to rumble. You screamed in frustration, another ripple of power bursting through you. The cliff shook and the snow was thrust into the open air to form an artificial snowfall. A stream of blue light burning a hole through the grey clouds, acting like a flame in the dark.

"She probably tracked the essence of the frost giant that tried to kill her," Loki whispered to Sif.

"For once, Loki, I agree with you," Sif brandished the golden sword Wyndel with two hands as she looked down the hill.

Having spotted the miraculous burst of light, the Jotuns had gathered below the cliff-face, weapons in hand, red eyes filled with fear and surprise. They were a scouting party, probably stationed here to ambush someone.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Typical. All I wanted to do was play a harmless game of Fates!"

You walked over to Loki's side, "I suppose this is good a reason as any to put my skills to the test."

Loki sighed and retracted his arms, small daggers falling into his palms from their hiding place up his sleeve.

"Yay," he said dryly. "Let's go fight some giants."

Sif sighed, “The one day I decide to leave my weapons behind.”

~HEIMDALL

Heimdall gasped in shock as he saw Loki, Sif and Y/N disappear right before him into a portal. When he had felt his daughter’s powers leeching from his own, he had urged Sif and Loki to help pry her from him, but in turn, they had been sucked in too.

All the eyes in the tavern were a mixture of drunk confusion, shock and fear.

“Hey, where did you send them?” Brokkr demanded. “That mean warrior took my sword with her!”

Heimdall stood hastily as he made his way to the palace in search of Frigga.

Chapter Five

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sirius · 5 years

Text

Young gods Part 4

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 6108

A/N: ahhh I’m getting through it!! Man this was tricky but I’m really happy with this chapter. I hope to get the next chapter out before Christmas but I can’t promise anything as I want to finish a chaos theory chapter before then too and then - yeah. But anyway, here you go ❤️

Chapter Four: Come out and Play or Wild World

As soon as you step into the empty room late Thursday night, you know you’re in too deep.

You and Kaitlyn stand side-by-side, scanning the room for any signs of movement. There’s no one around, the stillness cold and eery, like a breath of icy, graveyard air. Shadows creep across the walls and hang from the corners like demons, recoiling from the beam of light pouring from the tip of your wand.

Kaitlyn mutters a counterspell for the invisibility charm she cast on herself, and her form shimmers, revealing herself.

“Potter did tell us the correct password?” Kaitlyn asks, wrapping her cloak around herself a little tighter.

“Yes,” you murmur, scanning the shadows, “We have the right time and password, though I thought it was a bit odd that he said for us to ‘imagine’ the perfect hiding place.”

Kaitlyn throws her hands up in the air in frustration, “Well then where are they? We’re completely alone-”

“You’re not alone,” says a masculine voice that wrenches through the silence, and you clamp a hand across your mouth to swallow the gasp rising to your lips as Kaitlyn staggers backwards.

James Potter emerges from out of thin air, his trademark smirk curving deviously. Your shock fades into embarrassment and slight irritation as you stare at him, gently tugging on the pendant of your necklace with trembling fingers. Kaitlyn, however, has been reduced to stunned silence as she gapes at him for a moment. Finally, she swallows, her cheeks an intriguing shade of red as she finds her voice.

“P-Potter,” she splutters, “How did-?”

“Invisibility cloak,” you and James both say in unison, and James winks at you.

“Y-you actually have an invisibility cloak?” Kaitlyn stammers, eyes wide with both shock and awe.

“Yeah. It’s a family heirloom,” James shrugs casually, “Alright, everyone, they’re alone. You can come on out now.”

It’s quite spectacular to watch, actually. Cracks climb up the walls as they shudder and peel, splitting them in half, regurgitating several figures that had been hiding inside of them.

James whips his wand from his pocket and mutters a counterspell, and suddenly, the strange iciness that had shrouded the room melts away, helping you to visibly relax in James’ presence. James senses your slight confusion and his smirk quirks.

“Handy little charm that repels intruders,” James explains, “If they’re not supposed to be here, they feel too spooked to enter...its kind of like that feeling you have to walk down a dark corridor in the middle of the night.”

“You’re saying that you’re scared of the dark?” Kaitlyn snips, a teasing brow raised in defiance as she stares at James. She seems to have recovered her sass.

“Oh, he’s terrified,” says a warm voice, and you break into a smile as Remus Lupin steps forward, dusting concrete from his clothes.

“Hey Remus,” you smile, softly, your heart shuddering in your chest like petals caught in a spring breeze.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Remus smiles back at you, lips curving into an amicable smile as he regards you fondly in the moonlight.

Kaitlyn and James exchange a look, stifling a laugh. Kaitlyn leans into you, murmuring out the side of her mouth, “How is it that I’m the one with glasses but you’re the one who is blind to what’s right in front of her.”

Your brows knit together in mild confusion as you stare at Kaitlyn. Her smirk, all-knowing and slightly calculating, unsettles you for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint yet. You cut your gaze away from her, face warm, and turn to Remus.

Your eyes sweep across him, noting every detail of his face cast in cool shades of white and grey, his dark blue eyes almost grey in the moonlight.

“Oh, you have a bit of...” you trail off, stepping towards him and raising nimble fingers to his shoulder, gently flicking dust from his vest, though - secretly - both of you aware that it’s just an excuse to touch him.

“Thanks.”

You step away from him and glance at Kaitlyn. She’s watching you, a sharp brow raised teasingly, wearing that same, knowing smirk that rankles you as you flush beneath her teasing gaze.

Fortunately, you’re saved by Sirius Black, who strides into the room and draws Kaitlyn’s attention from you to him.

“Prongs,” he murmurs, “Wormy and I have secured the area. No one followed them,”

Sirius glances at you indifferently, his hands lazily shoved into his pocket. You blink at him, alarmed by the lack of your body’s response to him. Usually, you’d be reduced to stammering lips and a clumsy heart, but tonight, all you feel is unease.

Kaitlyn is livid.

“Why does he have to be here?” Kaitlyn snaps, addressing James as she jabs a finger in Sirius’ direction.

Sirius’ bark of a laugh punctures the air, mirthlessly, “Didn’t anyone tell you, sweetheart? I’m a Marauder just as much as James, Peter and Remus are...”

Kaitlyn steps toward him, fists clenched at her sides, “Call me ‘sweetheart’ again and I will tear you to shreds,”

“And I believe you,” Sirius drawls, lazily, as though he’s bored already.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Would you two stop it already?” James snips, glancing between the two of them, “In case you didn’t realise, we have bigger problems than your little pissing contest.”

“For once, I agree with you,” a sweet, melodious voice says from behind you, and you whirl around, spotting the most popular girl in school, Lily Evans. Her arms are folded across her chest, a teasing smirk pulling at the edges of her lips as she steps toward you.

James shoots a hand through his hair, “I guess today is the day for miracles.”

Lily rolls her eyes, though an amused smile plays tantalisingly on her lips, “Everyone’s out and ready, Potter, so when you’re ready...”

James nods importantly, suddenly serious in a way that seems uncharacteristic to the Marauder. He strides forward and flicks his wand, and golden light suddenly floods the room, washing the walls and spilling over the large, round table and chairs arranged, in a circle.

Kaitlyn’s eyes widen as she glances toward to corridor, and you sense her discomfort. Lily does, too, and she rests a comforting hand on Kaitlyn’s shoulder.

“Anyone looking in will see nothing but a blank wall,” Lily explains, softly, “This room is specially enchanted to our needs.”

“We call it the Room of Requirement,” Remus adds, leaning across to whisper in your ear.

“How did you find it?” You murmur, and Remus nods toward Sirius in response.

“Sirius found it. Don’t know how, though I have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with the Greengrass twins and a couple of bottles of Fire whiskey.”

You cringe, turning back to Sirius. He looks so incredibly handsome, hair thick and expression firm, all razor-sharp edges that remind you of switchblades and motorbikes, half-empty bottles of whiskey and crumpled Marlborough packets littered across a bedroom floor.

Sirius glances at you and you snap your gaze away, biting down on your lip.

For the first time since you’ve arrived, you take in your surroundings and notice that there are other people gathered together, too.

Lily’s four friends are here; Marlene Bishop, Mary McDonald, Emmeline Vance and Dorcas Medowes are seated at the circular table, all of them murmuring, deep in serious conversation with-

“Professor Dumbledore?” Kaitlyn mutters, glancing at you.

Dumbledore tears his eyes away from his conversation with Marlene and Mary and smiles at you, eyes twinkling with that strange magic that seems to usually hum around him.

“Ah, our newest members,” Dumbledore exclaims, cheerily, “Welcome. Please, take a seat.”

Dumbledore gestures to a couple of empty seats, inviting you to sit with him. You and Kaitlyn glance at each other, and she shrugs, walking ahead of you and dropping into a spot next to Emmeline Vance.

You meekly approach the table, Sirius and Remus following behind, before you take your seat between Kaitlyn and Remus. James paces toward the door and calls Peter inside, and Peter follows James into the room, taking a seat next to Sirius. James stands next to Dumbledore, and the Headmaster claps his hands together.

“Now that we have everyone here,” Dumbledore begins, eyes scanning the faces around the table, “We can commence our weekly meeting. James, would you like to start?”

James nods, “Right, well, this week, there was only one new recruit...” James throws a nervous glance at Sirius, “Regulus Black.”

Dumbledore nods forlornly, as though this news does not surprise him, “When did this happen?”

“Last night,” James answers, then sighs, “It sounded as though Snape was testing him.”

“Preparing him for the slaughter,” Sirius grumbles, darkly, glaring dangerously at the centre of the table. James continues, though not without a sidelong glance at Sirius.

“Snape also confirmed our suspicions about spies being in other classes. He knew a lot about Regulus’ Potion class, including his partner.”

“I see,” Professor Dumbledore muses, calmly, “And what would you classify Regulus as?”

James hesitates, “While I would normally say he’s a three, judging by what I saw last night, I’d say he’s somewhere between two and three.”

Your fingers find your moon-crescent pendant and fiddle with it, fingers following the curves and edges absentmindedly. What does he mean by ‘three’ and ‘trialled’? You glance around the room, finding only serious faces listening attentively to Dumbledore and James. They all seem to understand...everyone except you. Shame overwhelms you, burning in your cheeks.

If you muster up the courage and energy to ask, you’ll be interrupting the meeting and risk looking like a complete idiot. They’ll realise that recruiting you was a mistake and cast you out, reasoning that your ignorance isn’t worth them getting caught.

Deciding to stitch your lips together and swallow your words, you try to ignore your spiralling thoughts as your cruel imagination escapes with your fears, painting vivid scenarios where you eventually end up punished for your own confusion.

You’ll probably catch on along the way...

“We judge the new recruits on different classifications,” murmurs a soft voice, gently tickling in your ears. You nearly jump at the suddenness of it, and you glance over your shoulder to find Remus leaning in close to your ear. Sensing your unease, he places a gentle, comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What are they?” You ask, your voice a barely a whisper.

“Someone who is a One is joining due to fear,” Remus explains, muttering in an undertone, “Meaning they’re only joining to keep themselves, their family and or their friends safe. It also means that they’re more pliable than the other two Classifications.

“A Two is judged on hesitation. If they show even a glimpse of hesitation, then they can be guided, though the difficulty varies depending on the person.

“The final classification is a three, and Threes are the most difficult to convince. They are usually joining because they are drawn to Voldemort’s power and they want it. Persuading them is the hardest, though I don’t believe it’s not impossible. Just because no one has been able to convince them otherwise thus far, doesn’t mean we still can’t.”

You nod, biting your lip as you process this new information.

“In saying that, Regulus is the first to be slotted between two classifications,” Remus murmurs, a touch of surprise lacing his words, “He must be pretty confused.”

A twinge of guilt and worry pricks your chest. If Regulus is truly struggling, if he’s buckling under the pressure of discovering his true identity and allegiance, you have no choice but to reach out and reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it alone.

Dumbledore’s heavy sigh draws your attention back to him and you watch as he runs a hand down his thick, long beard, “Has he officially been trialled?”

James shakes his head, “Not that we know of.”

“If I may,” Lily pipes up, raising her hand, “I overheard Snape and Regulus talking at our recent prefect meeting. I think Regulus will be trialled around Christmas.”

“Trialled?” You whisper to Remus and a pinch of anxiety flicks across his face.

“Each new recruit must be ‘trialled’ in order to become a Death Eater. It’s kind of like a pledge of loyalty to Voldemort and all that nonsense.”

“And what do they have to do?”

“It depends,” Remus begins, slowly, “But it always winds up with someone getting hurt. Mary McDonald knows all about it...”

You glance at Mary, who wears a fierce display of determination like a shield on her face. You had heard that she had been a victim of an attack by a gang of Slytherins, yet here she was, standing up for what she knew was right, not caving into fear and letting them win.

“Christmas,” Dumbledore echoes, thoughtfully, “That still gives us some time. If Regulus is unsure about what he’s getting into, he can still be convinced...”

Sirius barks a cold, indignant laugh that shatters the air around you. Everyone turns to him, staring as he leans back in his chair.

“You won’t be able to convince Regulus,” Sirius snips, harshly, “He’s a stubborn, cowardly git and a fool.”

“It takes one to know one,” Kaitlyn mutters angrily beneath her breath.

“He’s not a lost cause,” Marlene pipes up, hopefully, “No one is.”

“I concur,” Dumbledore says, blue eyes glittering behind his half-moon spectacles, “We cannot give up on those who need help and guidance...”

“I’m telling you now, he won’t listen,” Sirius snaps, temper simmering, “He’s too busy being a lap dog for Walburga and Orion to care about anything you say!”

“Which classifies him as a One,” Mary says, carefully, “Which also means that there’s still hope.”

“I sense great agitation in your aura, Sirius,” Emmeline suddenly chimes in, her voice misty and whimsical, “As well as fear, regret, guilt and-”

“–Don’t try that fortune-telling bullshit on me, Vance, I’m not a fool,” Sirius barks, glaring daggers at Emmeline.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Dorcas snaps, placing a protective hand on Emmeline's shoulder.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Meadowes, just because I don’t want to hear Vance’s scamming pitch.”

“Oh, because you’re so superior to us you’re immediately entitled to do whatever you want without consequence?” Dorcas shouts, springing from her seat. Sirius moves to leap from his seat too, glowering like an angry dog, but James rests a hand on his shoulder with an unspoken warning.

“You know that’s not true,” James chides, voice stern and rich with authority. Dorcas flushes, though her face is still hot with anger, “Superiority has nothing to do with the way Sirius acts.”

“Superiority has everything to do with it!” Dorcas nearly shrieks, her shrill voice bouncing off the walls.

“Calm down, Dorcas,” Marlene hisses through gritted teeth.

“No!” Dorcas barks, incensed and seething, “Sirius can’t just waltz around like he owns Hogwarts. He doesn’t. He’s just an arrogant bully!”

“How dare you?!” Peter growls, leaping to his feet. He’s significantly shorter than the tall and willowy form of Dorcas Meadowes, but his anger seems to overshadow him, casting the room into an uncomfortable heat, “Sirius and James are different, now, and if you had any sense at all you would know that!”

“Excuse me?” Dorcas snarls, her upper lip curling sharply, “Are you calling me senseless?”

“Senseless and, apparently, deaf,” Peter snaps back.

“The only person who is the senseless fool here is Potter for seeing anything worthy in you!”

This time, Remus and Sirius jump up, too, ready to loyally defend James’ integrity as their friend and leader of the group. James, however, remains calm and cool, though there is an intimidating iciness to his voice when he speaks.

“Doubting each other isn’t going to help,” James snips in a tone that makes both you and Dorcas flinch.

“Maybe so,” Mary chimes in, “But it does put things in perspective.”

“Are you forgetting that we were the ones to ask you to join The Order?” Peter snaps.

“No,” Mary says, folding her arms across her chest defensively, “But Dorcas raises an interesting point. How do we know that you aren’t playing for both teams here?”

“How dare you doubt James after everything he’s done for you,” Sirius shouts, fingers clenching into trembling fists by his side. A flicker of guilt crosses Mary’s face, “Out of all of us, James is the most dedicated to this cause, and if you can’t see that, then you’re more of a fool than I originally thought!”

“Enough!” James yells, commanding silence, and everyone in the room obeys, sinking back into their seats. Peter stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest, his round face flushed red with anger as his lips twist into a frown. Dorcas sinks back into her seat, deliberately angling her chair away from Peter and Sirius. You and Remus glance uneasily at each other.

James sighs, raking a hand through his thick, black hair and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Fighting amongst ourselves isnt going to help. In fact, it’s giving Voldemort what he wants.”

“James is right,” Lily adds, and James flashes an appreciative smile at her, “After all, a wise man once said that if a house is divided against itself, the house cannot stand.”

“Yeah? And who would say something so ridiculous?” Sirius drawls, sardonically and Lily glares at him.

“Jesus,” Lily spits, coldly, “Jesus said that, Sirius. And he was right. How can we expect to fight Voldemort when we’re fighting amongst ourselves?”

“A very good point indeed, Miss Evans,” Dumbledore smiles fondly at Lily and she flushes under his praise, “James, Lily and Jesus are all correct; we can’t let our differences become our weaknesses. Voldemort is expecting any force that raises up against him to fail. Let’s surprise him by staying unified as a team, and remember why we’re doing this. Apart from saving humanity against Voldemort’s schemes, we all have our own personal reasons, after all.”

“Now that we’ve had the opportunity to...erm...express ourselves, we can conclude this meeting with a course of action,” Dumbledore says, calmly, “Despite Mr Black’s input - which we are all grateful for, by the way - I believe we still have a chance to guide Regulus. And it just so happens that I have a plan.”

Subconsciously, everyone leans forward, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

“Considering that Regulus is both hesitant and impressionable, our usual techniques are not going to be enough to convince him to join our cause,” Dumbledore starts, hands tented together thoughtfully, “I propose that we use subtle manipulation, and I believe the best person to do that is someone who is close to him. Someone who can talk to him freely without it looking suspicious.”

Dumbledore stares pointedly at you while everyone begins to pipe in with suggestions. It’s as though he’s communicating telepathically with you, encouraging you with a gentle glimmer in his eyes, though in a way that reassures you that he won’t be angry if you decline. Deep inside of you, however, you know that it’s the right thing to do and perhaps it’s the memory of your parents or the events of the past couple of days taking a toll on you, because without realising it, you are opening your mouth and stating loud and clear for everyone to hear-

“I’ll do it.”

Dumbledore smiles.

Eleven pairs of eyes turn their gazes to you, pinning you with intense stares. Warm flares beneath your cheeks, but you straighten and steel your spine. Everyone else falls silent, except for Remus and Kaitlyn.

“What?!” They both blurt in unison.

“You are very brave,” Dumbledore commends, warmly.

“(Y/N) shouldn’t have to do this!” Kaitlyn snaps, and Dumbledore turns to her.

“Why not?” Dumbledore asks, calmly, “She is Regulus’ Potion partner, yes? It wouldn’t be suspicious if (Y/N) and Regulus conversed both in class and out of it.”

“Yes,” Remus confirms, uneasily, “But-”

“-Moony, Professor Dumbledore has a point,” James intercepts, his expression thoughtful, “Snape used (Y/N) as a sort of...verbal test...to see if Regulus is ready for the trial. He said that she could be a distraction because Regulus may develop feelings for her. If that’s true, maybe she can convince him using her - erm - charms...”

“By ‘charms’ do you mean her whole ‘sweet and innocent, shy girl’ act?” Sirius asks sarcasm heavy in his words.

“Yeah,” James shrugs, “Besides, it’s not an act, is it (Y/N)?”

You chew your bottom lip as Remus races to your defence.

“James - Professor Dumbledore, if I may - this is all very new to (Y/N)...she doesn’t even have her tattoo yet and-“

“Wait, what tattoo?” Kaitlyn blurts, leaning forward, “Do you-do you all get tattoos?”

“Yeah,” Marlene grins wickedly, “Though it’s more practical than just fancy body scribbling.”

“Our tattoos are hidden on various parts of our body,” Remus explains, “They’re invisible to everyone but true members of the Order, and they light up whenever we need to congregate.”

“What do you mean ‘light up?’” Kaitlyn asks, warily, but before Remus can answer, Sirius jumps up from his seat and tears off his shirt, revealing a coloured Phoenix tattoo on the left side of his ribs. A sharp but tiny gasp escapes your lips at the sight of Sirius shirtless, toned muscles exposed in the low light.

“When we need to meet, the Phoenix ignites,” Sirius explains, pointing to the Phoenix that is currently preening itself, “Not only do you see it, you feel a tickling warmth. Nothing harmful. Actually...it’s kind of nice...”

“I...think we got the point,” Emmeline says in a soft and serene voice, her eyes dragging slowly and appreciatively over Sirius’ form. Dorcas nudges her and Emmeline rolls her eyes, “There is nothing shameful about appreciating the human body.”

Dorcas rolls her eyes and Remus continues, “It’s just an easier way to keep track of each other and to communicate without looking suspicious. Which is why we should think before we send (Y/N) off-”

“-I’ll do it,” you reiterate, this time more firmly, “I’ll...persuade him.”

Dumbledore smiles proudly, eyes glittering like sapphires behind his glasses. You glance around the room and spot Sirius studying you shrewdly, as though really noticing you for the first time. He looks equal parts surprised and impressed.

“Very well,” Dumbledore nods, still smiling.

What have I gotten myself into?

***

Twenty minutes pass, and you’re still asking yourself that very question.

What were you thinking when you agreed to this? You’re not a soldier in this war and you’re certainly not a spy. How were you going to do this? You can barely speak to your Professors, let alone other people. You chew your bottom lip until you taste blonde, anxiety swirling around at the bottom of your stomach like a whirlpool.

You’re shocked out of your reverie when chairs scrape across the ground and everyone begins to move around you, breaking off into their own conversations. You blink, coming back into the present as you automatically rise from your seat and push it in, fingers gripping the back of the chair a little tighter than necessary.

Glancing around, you look for Kaitlyn but realise she’s already gone.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Remus asks, smiling warmly, “I can ask James for the cloak. I think he’s going to hang back with Dumbledore.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smile softly at Remus, “I’ll be fine.”

Remus rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a small squeeze, “Alright. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Remus casts a disillusionment charm on himself and vanishes from your sight. You mimic him and head toward the door, now invisible to the naked eye.

Stepping into the corridor, you make your way toward your common room, gliding down the empty hallway unseen and unheard. When you reach the end, you start to round the corner but come to a sudden stop when you hear the angry murmur of a heated conversation.

Flattening yourself against the wall, you strain your ears to listen.

“-Kamilah know?” You hear Kaitlyn’s voice ask in a low, threatening snarl.

“Know what?” Comes Sirius’ husky retort, clearly feigning confusion.

“Please,” Kaitlyn scoffs, impatiently, “You’re ‘dumb jock’ facade is convincing, but not enough to fool me. You know exactly what I mean.”

“I don’t actually,” Sirius says, “You lost me at the ‘dumb jock’ part.”

“Stop fucking around, Black. Does Kamilah know about your super secret boy band meetings?”

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously, taking a risk and peering around the corner hesitantly. Kaitlyn and Sirius are standing face-to-face in a standoff, a metre or so between them. Kaitlyn is tense and firm, composure steeled and shoulders squared as though she were going to bite. Despite her height (she’s the tallest out of you and Kamilah - a fact she is annoyingly proud of), Sirius still has to bend down, looming over her.

“You say ‘boy band’ like it’s a bad thing,” Sirius sneers, lips curling at the edges into a sharp, wolffish smirk.

Kaitlyn scowls, “Is everything a joke to you?”

“What’s wrong with seeing the bright side of life?”

“Everything, when innocent lives are involved...”

Now it’s Sirius’ turn to scoff; it forms at the back of his throat and bursts from his lips like he’s forced it out, “What? You mean Ashton? Because something about her tells me that she isn’t quite as innocent as she seems.”

In the low light, you can see the rage course through Kaitlyn, boiling beneath her skin like a deadly potion. She clenches her jaw and grounds out a warning, “Leave (Y/N) out of this or I swear to Merlin-“

“-Are you in love with Ashton?”

Kaitlyn pauses, caught off guard for a moment. She recovers quickly, though, and steps closer to him, now inches between them,

“You know what? Fuck you. You and Kamilah deserve each other, you’re both disgusting low lives who hurt the one person who actually loves you.”

You hear Kaitlyn begin to stomp away from Sirius briskly but she stops when she hears Sirius’ voice cut through the air.

“Kamilah doesn’t know, by the way.”

Kaitlyn’s heavy footsteps stop, but she doesn’t turn around to face him as Sirius continues, “She doesn’t have to know everything...”

“Well,” Kaitlyn snips, “I thought since you two are apparently dating-“

“-What?” Sirius blurts in surprise.

“You and Kamilah are dating...right?”

A beat of silence passes between the two of them.

“Fuck,” Sirius curses through gritted teeth, “I told her that I didn’t want to get too involved...”

Kaitlyn’s sharp, mirthless laugh splinters the air, “Well, Kamilah has never been good at listening...”

Sirius’ hands are in his hair, and for a moment, you fantasise about how it would feel to tangle your hands in those infamous locks.

“You share a dorm, Yeah? Can you tell her-“

Kaitlyn snorts, “I’m not telling that backstabbing bitch anything! I’m not your owl. Tell her yourself, Black.”

With that, Kaitlyn wheels around and leaves. Sirius sighs, pulling out a flask from his robes and taking a long drag from it.

“I know you’re there, Ashton.”

You freeze, heart caught in a lump in your throat. Sirius pockets his flask, pulls out his wand and points it right at you, muttering Revelio. You gasp as the disillusionment charm melts off you.

“I-um-I-”

Sirius waves a dismissive hand at you, “Whatever. Listen, you impressed me when you said you’d - erm - spy on Regulus. I thought that you’d - I don’t know - I don’t know what I thought you’d do. But I never expected you to volunteer like that.”

You shrug meekly, and Sirius sighs. He takes another swig from his flask and you watch as though in a trance, alcohol glistening on his lips.

“Look,” He begins, awkwardly scratching at the nape of his neck, “I know I’ve been a jerk to you and - um - I’m - I’m fucking shit at apologies so...I’m a shitty person, I deserve to die and unfuck you I guess...”

You chew the side of your cheek thoughtfully and give a simple nod, “It’s-it doesn’t matter, I guess.”

Sirius licks his lips, “No, it does. I...shouldn’t have snapped at you that night and I...I’m sorry.”

Playing with your necklace, you take a moment to study Sirius in the moonlight. There is a soft, pink hue blooming beneath his cheeks from a mixture of the alcohol and embarrassment, and his hair falls gracefully around his face, framing his chiselled features. He looks uncomfortable.

“I’m not after an apology,” you mumble, softly, “I just...You and Kamilah hurt me and I...I know you didn’t do it deliberately but it still hurts, y’know. So I guess...I guess my view of you has changed.”

Sirius cocks a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks burn in embarrassment, “I’m going to go now so...”

Sirius steps aside and gestures dramatically for you to pass. You start to leave but stop, hesitating.

“You’re not a shitty person, Sirius,” you say, slowly, deliberately, without even realising what you’re saying, “And you certainly don’t deserve to die.”

Sirius’ smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, almost like he has a million reasons why you’re wrong.

***

You have a plan.

Well, sort of.

You have at least half of a plan, and that’s something...

The plan is to apologise, basically. To sit down with Regulus and say that you’re sorry and you want to be friends again. However, you have to do so in a way that doesn’t make him suspicious, and Regulus is naturally suspicious so this is where it becomes rather difficult.

So, you draft a script that hopefully sounds somewhat believable and you screw up every single ounce of your courage, trying to act naturally as you take your assigned seat next to Regulus the next morning in Potions.

“Alright, everyone,” Professor Slughorn begins in a cheery voice, “Let’s start the class with a quick quiz.”

A collective groan issues from the class as Professor Slughorn distributes the quiz sheets, hushing the class with a frown and an impatient tone. He actually beams at you and Regulus as he passes, winking at you as he gently places your quiz in front of you.

“You two will ace this,” Professor Slughorn grins confidently, “This will be a piece of cake to you two.”

Professor Slughorn returns to the front of the class and taps his wand on a large clock perched on his desk. The clock whizzes to life, as though awakening from a slumber, and starts counting down, commencing the quiz.

Grumbles and murmurs trail off into a reluctant silence as everyone begins their quiz, heads bowed and brows creased in concentration. You glance at Regulus, bouncing your knee nervously, recognising the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Do-do you know the answer to question eight?” You whisper, stammering over your words, even though you probably knew the answer better than him.

Regulus glimpses at the question, “Um...Flobberworm.”

Wrong.

“Wait-no-Glowworm.”

Correct.

“Thanks,” you whisper, pretending to scribble down the answer.

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, filled with the scratch of quills against parchment. You stare at Regulus as he continues to complete the quiz, and it dawns on you with how hard this actually is, the gravity of the situation nearly crushing you.

Regulus pauses mid-sentence, sensing your intense stare, and glances at you. You cut your gaze away hastily, deciding to take great interest in the clock that now read 3 mins 42 seconds.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, tasting blood as it oozes across your tongue. Whose bright idea was it to sign me up for this-?

Oh, that’s right.

You glance down at your quiz and decide to try and complete it, your quill dancing across the page. But you’re not even halfway through when the timer goes off and Professor Slughorn sweeps across the room, swiftly taking the quiz from each student.

When he reaches you, his smile fades into a frown as he stares down at your half completed quiz.

“Miss Ashton, you’ve only completed half of your quiz!” Professor Slughorn states in shock.

“Y-Yeah,” You splutter, feeling your cheeks glow as Regulus glances at you, “Sorry I’ve...been distracted.”

Professor Slughorn gives a disappointed hum and continues around the class, shaking his head. Regulus leans forward, frowning at you.

“(Y/N),” he hisses, “What’s going on with you?”

Your mouth flaps open wordlessly, nerves and anxiety bubbling up inside of you.

Stick to the plan, says a voice that sounds conspicuously like Kaitlyn.

You sigh in exasperation, “I’ll tell you after Slughorn’s lecture.”

As predicted, Professor Slughorn begins his lecture and rambles for three-quarters of an hour, pacing up and down the classroom in his usual fashion. When he’s finished and he’s written out instructions for the potion of the day, you reach out and grab Regulus’ arm, tugging gently.

Regulus stops abruptly, heat rushing to his face and seeping into his skin. He glances between you and his arm, as though trying to piece them together.

“I’m...worried about my grandma,” you murmur, tears pricking your eyes, “She’s getting on now and I hate the thought of her alone there at the Ashton mansion. It’s making me think of all the things in my life that I should be appreciating...”

You trail off, biting your lip, drawing Regulus’ eyes to your bottom lip as it’s caught between your teeth. It works; He stares at your lips for a lingering moment, cheeks burning furiously, and when he finally pries his eyes away, he notices the single tear rolling down your cheek.

“O-oh,” he stutters and swallows, “Well, I’m - ah- sorry about your grandma. She’s a lovely woman.”

“She is,” you agree, a flicker of warmth swelling in your chest at the thought of her, “But she’d want me to settle- this-whatever it is between us. Regulus I’m...I’m sorry.”

Regulus’ brows nearly graze his hairline in surprise as he blinks at you, stunned.

“You’re sorry?”

You resist the urge to slap him around the head for making you repeat yourself, instead biting down on the inside of your cheek, “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Regulus drops back onto his stool, frowning as he processes the new information. He seems to be mentally deliberating, addressing and dismissing his doubts. Finally, he turns back to you, eyes sharpening into a glare.

“Why now?” He snips, coldly, “The last time we spoke, it ended in an argument. What’s changed since then?”

You sit down beside him, covering his hand with your own, “Well, our argument got through to me. It got me thinking about...everything...because what you said was right. I did leave because of Sirius (Regulus bristles at the sound of his brother's name) and look where that got me? My best friend betrayed me to date him behind my back for four months and didn’t even bother to tell me. You were right...it was a waste of time.”

Regulus stares at where your hands are connected, the corners of his lips dropping into a frown.

“You’re telling me that after all this time, you’re ready to be friends again because of your grandma and Kamilah Siad?” He asks in a cool, composed tone. You nod.

Another silence lapses between you. Regulus continues to stare, tangled in a web inside his skull that you know all too well, before finally pulls his hand away.

“I don’t believe you,” he mutters, bitterly, “I don’t know what’s really going on with you, but I’m not going to be in the centre of it.”

You reach out, trailing a finger down his arm, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I know you don’t believe me,” you murmur, tears welling in your eyes, “But I know I’m telling the truth. Just...consider it, okay?”

Regulus pulls his arm away from your touch and tears his gaze away, glaring intensely at the cauldron.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he mutters, before striding away, heading toward to Ingredient cabinet.

As you watch him leave, a trembling sigh escapes your lips. And despite the guilt wave of guilt curling over your stomach, despite the taste of salty tear on your tongue that settles there like a reminder of your lie, and the whirlwind of anxiety spinning your head into vertigo, you can’t help the overwhelming relief that washes over you because-

Because...

The seeds of your little plan have been planted. And if Regulus is still the same boy you knew all those years ago, he’ll come back.

He always comes back.

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