#this question made me nervous because there are a lot of grounds to cover

[trinimalfoyyy]

Father Malfoy- a D.M. SMUT

Synopsis: Father Malfoy shows you what biblical duties truly mean when he finds out about your engagement

Warnings: 18+ (abusive relationship, praise kink, domination, derogatory names + language, unprotected sex, cheating, restraining, power play?) religious themes

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS INSPIRED BY ANOTHER FIC ON A03 SO INSPIRATION/SIMILARITY COMES FROM THEM <3 (@Cuntoid so give them some love)

A/N: I’m backkk my little devils ;))

“It won’t change anything.”

You stare at the ground, kicking your foot in an anxious manner. Absentmindedly chewing on your fingernails as you try very hard to avoid eye contact with the person in front of you. The words repeatedly stuck in your head made you furrow your eyebrows.

“It could change a lot.”

You hear no response and take it to finally break the long eye contact with the ground to stare into his cold, lifeless, grey orbs. He’s sitting back in his chair, leg crossed onto the other yet they are still spread apart enough to see his body. One hand covers his mouth and he stares back at you hardly even blinking.

“A ring won’t undo your sins, let alone playing pretend as his wife won’t make you any less of a whore.”

The sun peeks through the curtains and lands upon the diamond ring that envelops your finger. His eyes trail down towards the ring, and you can see his jaw tense and his eyes grow in fever. Your eyes follow his to the same destination. The rainbow shadows dance along the room, and a prism of light hits his eyes just right.

"Isn't jealousy a sin, Father?"

He scoffs aloud, breaking your trance from the ring and back into his familiar eyes. "What could I possibly be jealous of? That ring may show onlookers you are claimed, but how are you even claimed? Mentally? Hardly. Spiritually?" He pauses, and the sound of your heart thumps so loud it makes the hairs on your body sit upright. "I know you aren't claimed physically, for what you wear when you visit me states otherwise doesn't it?"

You shift in your seat, not because you are nervous, no, because you know he's right. The skirts and dresses you wear make it more accessible for him. However, recently, the length begs the question of how accessible you want it to be.

He straightens his posture, folds his hands on the desk, and awaits your rebuttal, knowing it is in vain.

"I love him."

" I never said you didn't love him. I'm simply stating your sins and how they contribute to making you a whore."

You suck in a breath and try to rack that brain of a way to respond to him but to no avail. You come up with no words and soon the real anxiety sets in.

He slowly gets up and rounds his desk, stopping next to you before kneeling. Even on one knee, his figure looms over you, powers over you. His long fingers mindless dance upon your arm as his eyes reach deep into yours.

"You sound jealous...incredibly jealous."

"Yet, you come here and seek refugee in my warmth. Find ways to pay for your sins. To worship me. I know what you need, and your soon-to-be husband won't ever know you like I do."

He licks his lips and shows his canines--causing you to grip the chair. His eyes dip down to watch your motions before slowly reaching your eyes again. His hot breath tickles your arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"If you were some unimportant whore from the streets, I'd congratulate you. But I've tasted...felt how your warm flesh sends me an invitation to my own demise."

The hand that laid beside him now creeps upon your thigh, making you spread your legs all without breaking focus. You suck a moan when his slender fingers reach your entrance to rub a delicious movement against your bare core but it never reaches where you wish it would. He’s teasing you, showing you how he owns you through simple games.

"Does his touch affect you so? Does a simple touch from him make you spread your legs? Does it?" You nod a no weakly, and his eyes swirl with pride. Your hand grips the chair even harder, and his teeth come into contact with your plush thighs. Nail indents would be left over from how hard his nails dug into you. Claiming you. Marking you up for him. Only him.

His hot tongue draws circles in the inner of your thighs. Right now, your heart is felt between your legs, and your mouth is watered from the attention you are receiving. You yelp as his teeth nip and bite, leaving hard marks just to go over them with his tongue.

You could feel how wet you were and almost taste it in your mouth. The smell flooded the room as his head neared your aching entrance. Butterflies filled your stomach so that your toes could curl. With little strength, you call out his name.

"F-Father."

His name was so breathy it hardly was heard. It was a mere whisper, yet it tore his actions to a halt as he looked up through his lids.

"Get up."

His voice echoed in your head as his warmth left your cold body. He waited for you to listen to him, and with shaky legs you stood up just like he asked. His nails dig shape as he pulls you around the desk, grabbing the back of your hair to drop you down.

The cold wood made your feverous body shiver as your hands scrambled to find something to hold onto. You swear you could feel the wood vibrate from how fast your heart was thumping. Cold fingers touched your waist and made you shiver from the sensation.

Suddenly you feel thankful to be at the desk and to have something hold your weak body up. "Does he ever take you on furniture or is the bed the only salvation you have encountered?"

"He...He wants to save it till marriage."

A hum followed by a pause. Another pause passes before he answers you.

"He hasn't even taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit? But, instead, he awaits it like a present wrapped in a neat little bow? Does he know I have tasted your nectar or that you aren't as innocent as you claim?"

"He doesn't know, Draco."

A harsh pull of your hair has you choking on air as he pulls your head back to the point of snapping it. His face nears yours as he growls in your ear.

"You will call me by my rightful name!"

His once cool grey eyes have daggers embedded deep within as he stares you down. Tears blur your vision as you try to answer the man but all words become gargled. Instead, you let out a whimper to signal how sorry you were to disrespect him.

His warm tongue darts from behind his canines and he licks a strip up your jugular. His other hand reaches down your dress to twist your now rock-hard nipple. A moan escapes your throat and his iron-clad grip slowly lets go of your hair.

"Apologize for your mistake slut."

"I'm-I'm sorry Father..."

A finger dances along your spine and reaches your dress before he hikes the material high enough to show him what he wants to see. Your fingers grip the desk harder in anticipation of what is to come next.

"No panties underneath? My my what a true common whore you really are!"

A brush against your now-exposed entrance has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Rubbing through your folds, he groans at the sight of what truly wet with desire you are. A gasp and an arch in the back as his finger enters till his cold ring reaches your hole.

"Fuck...so wet for me aren't you?"

You nod so quick that your brain can't register what he actually said. The feeling was too good--the pumping action builds a band inside of you. Just a little more and it would break.

But the feeling stops suddenly as you clench around nothing. A pout reaches your features but turns back into pleasure at the sound of a belt.

His belt buckle snaps with such a delicious sound you swear you can feel it. A tap is felt on one of your cheeks and you spread your legs farther without a word even being said.

"Good girl...beg me for it."

"Please, Father! Please! Plea-oh!"

A quick slam of his thick cock has your pelvis squashed up against the wood in a painful movement. He sets out a quick pace, one that has you moaning and babbling incoherent words. Sharp quick thrusts soon turn into pleasure as your body shapes around him perfectly.

"Look at how quick your body adjusted for me. Only I can make your body twitch and shake. Let me make you mine. Let me fill you up completely."

His groans intertwine with your moans as his hand finds your neck and squeezes it. This makes you clench around him and you hear a sharp intake of air enter his lips.

His grip falters on your neck but he makes up for it by shoving his fingers deep in your mouth. His fingers fill up your mouth as much as his cock does. Salvia drips down into a puddle on the desk.

The hand on your waist is so tight you know a bruise will develop later. You could care less in fact, with the way his cock brushing your stomach makes you feel drunk. His thrusts become more erratic and that shakes the desk. He chases after his own high and could feel how close you were getting to yours.

He stops his motions and snatches his fingers from your warm mouth. His hands grip your sides and flip you on your back. You scream out as his cock slams back into you. You watch the sweat drip from his forehead as he ruts so hard.

The grip around your neck is back but much greater. You can hardly breathe and spots line your vision.

"Tell me how good it feels."

You babble words and sounds as you can feel the band starting to break. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs shake with intensity.

"Yes, milk my cock! Let me fill that womb and see how fruitful you are in return."

Tears form in the corner of your eyes as his thrusts hit your now sensitive body. His thumb enters your mouth and he moans as you take in it.

Soon his thrusts become sloppy and you know how close he is. His eyebrows furrow together and his head is thrown back as he shoots white thick ropes inside your gummy walls.

His cock twitches as he rides his high, slowing down in the process. He slowly takes out his white-painted member before getting back dressed. He remains his composure and looks as if he didn't commit a sin just now. He looks back at you and then down to see his efforts drip down onto the desk.

He scoops it back up before plugging your hole with his fingers. You look up at him confused.

"We wouldn't want my efforts to just end up on the desk. No, it must stay inside you." He hums in agreement.

"What would your husband think if you were to get pregnant from my seed?" You look at him through half-lidded eyes too tired to even move.

"Would he be mad? Pissed? Surprised even?" Tears prick your eyes as you listen to him talk.

"Don't cry little dove. I have big plans for you. Very big indeed."

NFSW MASTERLIST

@orphixcc @aadoreeleanorr @his-princess01122014 @burnin-passion @superanimenatural @slytherinhoeperiodt @kinkyslytherinstuff @youreso-golden @dracosbaibe @realityblocked @saystime @agalswrittingobsession @bamb0lina-sffv @justfangirlthingies @louweasleymalfoy @erenjaegerswh0r3 @marrymetheonott @worksby-gabriella @willowmores @audrienfortuno

#♡ ˙ * ✧ ━━ not safe for work #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #harry potter #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco smut

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober Day 19: Uniform- Jim Hopper

Word count: 2,012

Summary: Youre the new police station receptionist and you can’t help but love how Jim looks in his uniform.

“Benefit of now living in a small town is you guys always have my favourite cereal. Living in a bigger city it was always gone by the time I’d get to the store after work.” You lightly laughed with Joyce as you held up the cereal in question.

“Well im more than happy to keep it stocked for you. Since that new mall was built I haven’t had much to do, it’s pretty much just you, some parents and the elderly of Hawkins.” Joyce replies warmly.

Since moving to Hawkins three months ago, Joyce has been such a big help and a great friend. She was just under twice your age but that was fine, she has been like a cool Aunty to you.

“Hey, Joyce.” You heard a gruff voice say as the heavy steps of none other than Jim Hopper walked in.

“Here’s my other regular.” She smiled warmly at her old friend. “I was just telling y/n that she’s keeping the store open since that mall was built.” She joked with the man.

He smiled at you as your eyes met.

Even though Hopper was technically your boss, he still made you feel comfortable and taken care of. Well when you saw him out of work he did, when he was in his uniform it was another story.

“She’s keeping the station together too since Flo semi retired. From Wednesday to Saturday things seem to run a bit smoother.” He complimented you with a warm smile.

“Oh I don’t know about that, I think Flo just organises it so well the rest of the week that she makes me look good.” You joke back, hand lightly touching his forearm.

Though you didn’t speak loudly your volume of voice seemed to shock him a bit. To be fair it was because at work you were a lot more shy and quiet, but you couldn’t help it.

Here out in public in his regular clothes, Hopper still looked amazing to you but he was on equal grounds. Hell if Joyce hadn’t been standing there you might have even flirted with him a bit, but at work, when he was in his uniform, it was a different story.

The way he looked and the power he held in that uniform just made you clam up, you turned into a horny school girl again. If Hopper knew how he made you feel though, he’d probably fire you, or so you thought.

Hopper definitely noticed your change in behaviour at the store compared to work, sure everyone was a little different in and out of work but this was something else. The way you freely chatted and laughed with Joyce and himself made him eye you suspiciously. However your behaviour wasn’t the only thing that made him eye you.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about flipping your skirt up, unbuttoning your blouse and seeing what lay beneath your clothes but here in your regular clothes, he couldn’t help but stare a little more.

When at work you wore long skirts and quite full covering blouses, but here, on a hot summers day, your beautiful legs were on full display and your basic t-shirt seemed to sit nicely across your chest. Luckily for him he could be subtle enough to not be noticed staring.

******

Seeing you back at work the next week and you were back to your shy and closed off self. Surely it was just you being professional at work and wanting to focus on your job, but there was something about it that felt off.

Wanting answers he decided to do some semi police work and try to see if he could discover why. Making sure to pay attention to when you became more nervous and where your eyes fell. Though he tried to be subtle, you definitely noticed his extra attention and tried hard all day to stay focused and not stare.

You especially tried hard not to stare when his strong thighs came to sit on your desk, or when he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. Though you tried hard to keep your eyes on your work, you couldn’t help but stare and the blush that creeped up onto your cheeks.

By the end of the day Hoppers ‘police work’ had seemed to have paid off and he believed he had found his answer. His self conscious thoughts came out when he came to his conclusion but there was no way around it, it was his uniform.

His uniform got you hot.

****

Now he’d found the reason surely he could just move on, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but then it got worse.

The next day you seemed to be even more on edge. As soon as he saw you shuffling around in your seat and crossing your legs each time he came over to your desk, he couldn’t help but play with you a bit.

“Y/N could you come to my office, I just have something I need you to look at.” He asked that afternoon, walking right up to your desk for what felt like the thousands time that day.

God he was driving you mad. Your skin was hot, your heart raced and every time he came into view in that uniform, your core couldn’t help but flutter. Walking to his office, you tried hard not to stare at his ass and instead tried to focus on keeping your shaky legs from failing you.

Walking through the door to his office and of course he’s sitting behind the desk with his legs spread out beautifully. You swear the second you get home you are going to need a cold shower and some time with your favourite ‘back massager’. Standing in front of his desk your eyes nervously follow him as he begins to stand and walk behind you.

Usually Hopper couldn’t see much with the clothes you wore but today your skirt was a lighter fabric and colour, being able to see the curve of your ass a lot better than usual. Standing behind you he had a perfect view of your ass and his fingers itched to reach out and grab it.

You were confused as to what he needed from you but not wanting to be rude, and not wanting your voice to falter, you waited for him to speak first.

“You know, Y/N, I wasn’t lying the other day with Joyce, you truly do work very well here and help the station run so much better.” He complimented in a deep dominating voice.

Your breath and heart rate began to pick up as you could feel him stepping closer to you.

“I love coming into work and seeing you sit there. First to come to work and last to leave, you work so hard.” He now breathes down your neck, a hand coming to rest on your hip.

A gasp makes its way past your lips at the contact, surprised at the touching but hoping he wouldn’t stop just there. Stepping closer your gasp turns into a moan as his other hand lays on your other hip and you can feel just how hard he is.

“I was beginning to worry that you didn’t like working here, you seemed so quiet and so nervous, but that’s not it is it, Y/N?” He asks, his lips now right by your ear.

You want nothing more in this moment then to grind back into him but you force yourself to stay still.

“You like how my uniform makes you feel don’t you, Y/N? Like how dominant I look? Is that it, sweetheart?” He asks hotly whispering in your ear.

His breath now on your neck causing you to moan and your head fall onto his shoulder. His grip on your hips tightens at the contact.

“Yes. Yo-you look so good in your uniform, I can’t stop thinking about you when you wear it.” You moan out to answer as he now presses hot kisses to your exposed neck.

“It gets you hot doesn’t it? I bet you think about me bending you over this desk and fucking you, don’t you? I mean you’ve been doing so well here, I think you’ve earned a good fucking. Would you like that, baby?” He asked hotly in your ear, one of his hands now feeling your breast over your blouse.

“A-aaah, ye-yes. I want you to fuck me, Hop.” You moan back, now fully grinding against his quite large bulge.

“Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.” He praises you, nibbling at your ear before he roughly shoved you onto the desk.

Landing chest first with a small grunt, you can’t help but stick your ass out a little further, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Take off your shirt and bra, sweetheart, let me see what I’ve been thinking of these past few months.” He orders, standing right behind you and caging you in with his strong hips.

Doing as he says, you quickly straighten up, now being consumed by his large frame behind you.

“Have you been thinking of this, Y/N? Have you touched yourself to me, baby?” He teases, his large fingers making their way under the front of your skirt, finding you soaked through your panties and to your tights.

“Oh fuck, baby, feels like you have.” He chuckles deeply as he begins to play with your clit, his other hand roughly squeezing your now very exposed breast.

“Aa-aaah, ye-yeesss, Hop. Oh fuck! I touch myself to you! Oh god! I want you to fuck me do badly, Chief.” You pathetically moan, practically humping his hand now.

Deeply moaning he harshly pushes you back onto the desk, another soft grunt leaving you, followed by a whine at the loss of contact.

“Ooohh ‘Chief’, I like that.” He smirks by your ear, his whole chest pushed fully onto your back.

Stepping back briefly, he pulls down your stockings and panties all once. Quickly shoving your legs apart you hear him unwrapping and putting on a condom.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asks as you feel him lining his tip up with your soaking entrance.

“Yes, please fuck me, Hop.” You pathetically moan out.

Feeling a harsh slap on your ass you loudly yelp out.

“That’s not what you call me.” He growls in your ear as his grip on your hip tightens.

“I’m sorry, Chief! Please fuck me.” You plead out.

“Good girl.” He praises sweetly in your ear as he kisses your cheek.

Feeling him fully thrust into you all at once, your body lunges forward and you let out a loud moan.

“Fuck, baby, lucky no one’s here today.” He chuckles as he grips harshly onto your hips and fucks you into the desk.

He fills you up so perfectly and his thick cock manages to hit the perfect spot each time. You can’t control your loud moans as your head drops between your folded arms.

“Oh fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight! God your pussy feels amazing around me. Squeezing my cock so good.” He growls as his harsh thrusts continue.

You can feel the coil in you begin to tighten and your walls begin to flutter.

“Oh fuck! Chief I’m gonna cum! Please make me cum!” You shout out as you push your hips further back.

One of his large hands leaves your hip as his arm wraps around the front of your hips, and his other hand makes its way to your clit, lightly rubbing you as he continues to fuck into you.

“Cum for me, darlin’, I’ve got you.” He whispers surprisingly sweetly into your ear.

With the added pleasure your body begins to shake as your orgasm washes over you with a loud moan. Hopper closely follows behind you as he grabs onto your hips and thrusts harshly into you.

Lightly pulling out of you, Hopper readjusts your stockings and skirt as he lightly turns you around.

“You did well, gorgeous.” He gently praises as he strokes your hair.

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

[randomshyperson]

Destiny of Madness - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Reimagining and fixing of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (again) or Wanda Maximoff is your destiny in every world and no one will keep you from her, not even the God of Chaos.

Warnings: Brief mentions of insinuation of smut, making out, a lot of violence (canonical and not), language, dark magic, dark(ish) fic as well || Words: 8.255k

A/N-> I disappeared for weeks because I was being audited at my job, and in cleaning the computer I ended up doing the same with my drive and discovered some stories practically complete and abandoned or forgotten. This is one of them. I'm not writing anything right now, so I'll post these stories I found.

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

“The Scarlet Witch is a being of unfathomable magic. She can rewrite reality as she chooses, and is prophesized to either rule or annihilate the cosmos.”

As Wong's speech came to an end, the nervousness and anxiety of everyone around were palpable. Strange hesitated.

"There has to be something, someone capable of standing up to her." He inquired the Supreme, who also seemed equally nervous. Wong gestured around.

"We can turn this place into a fortress. You can try talking to her, you fought side by side after all."

Strange shook his head, moving closer. "She wouldn't listen, the darkhold controls her completely. And even if the mages could hold her back, gaining a limited amount of time, she would still win. Please, Wong, try to think, to remember something. Don't we know anyone who can stand up to her?"

Wong was silent, thoughtful. It was not he, but another master who approached, and whispered something in his ear that made him grunt: "This is just a legend."

But Strange was interested, and Wong sighed in defeat before narrating the room, "The Scarlet Witch's magic belongs to Chthon, the God of Chaos. And for every absolute singularity, there is a counterpart. Oshtur, the benevolent goddess of truth, gifts warriors with her magic of order every millennium. I have never heard of one in this world, not even when the Ancient One was alive. It's just a myth."

"So was Wanda." Strange cuts in. He hesitates when the next moment, the Kamar Taj's alarms sound, and Wong beckons everyone to go to battle position.

Before they join the courtyard, Wong pulls his friend by the arm.

"Legend has it that these warriors travel the multiverse, cutting chaos off at the root. Not the kind of person you send to face a friend."

Strange looks up at the black fog that is beginning to cover the palace and sighs. "She is no longer a friend. Stand your ground, and let's protect that girl. The Scarlet Witch can not control the multiverse."

–/–

"I'm not a monster, Stephen. I'm a mother."

The conversation turned into a fight almost as fast as America could blink.

She had heard the whole conversation from Strange and Wong, and when Wanda's magic electrified her body, burning its way into her powers, some part of her must have focused on that.

It was true that she couldn't control the portals, but that didn't stop her subconscious from doing so.

Strange jumped in, pushing the two of them inside, and everything spun. Worlds vibrated between them until they landed together, rolling through a dark hall.

"Hey, kid you okay?" Strange questioned worriedly as soon as he managed to get to his feet. America had done so the second before and merely nodded, her gaze focused on the figure on their back further ahead.

Strange tugged on her forearm gently, preparing for a conflict.

"You there. Friend or foe?" He questioned the figure, and when you turned around - your clothes covered in blood, which clearly came from the body you had just stabbed - America exclaimed in fright, hiding behind Strange.

Your serious expression softened immediately. "Shit, so sorry about that! They were the bad guys, I promise." You clarified almost bashfully, running the dagger through your clothes to wipe away the blood as the body fell to the floor. "Forgive me for the mess, I wasn't expecting an audience." You comment with a chuckle, putting the dagger away, and as you begin to move your glowing fingers to wipe away the blood and vanish the victim, Strange understands that you are some kind of sorceress.

The symbol of the Sanctum Sanctorum hanging around your neck makes him breathe lighter.

"What did he do?" the sorcerer asked towards your victim, receiving a weary sigh in return.

"Murder of course. We always pay in the same coin." You clarify approaching, and despite having just killed someone, your look is one of the kindest he has ever seen. You look embarrassed with America still cowering in fear, "I didn't mean to scare you, child. See, I'm just doing my job, and there usually aren't any little girls watching."

America frowns. "I'm not a little girl. I'm already 14!" She defends herself almost indignantly, and it's clear to Strange that you had said that on purpose, to at least get her to talk to you, by the smile that plays on your lips.

"Oh, my mistake. You are not a child, indeed." You comment gently and offer your hand to Strange first. "Sorry for the odd introduction. I'm Y/N L/N."

"Doctor Stephen Strange." He introduces himself back. "Are you some kind of mage?"

You smile. "Yeah, sorceress. Not so different from you, I imagine." You say pointing to the symbol he carries. Stephen smiles softly, introducing America before adding:

"We are facing a threat and need to get home. Perhaps the sorcerers of this world can help us."

You are surprised, absorbing his word for a moment, and then sighing a little.

"Sure, I can take you the Supreme. Just, don't mention that they are not from here. Not everyone trusts multiverse travelers."

"How can you say we are not from this reality?" Strange asked, to which you gave a chuckle.

"You need to be a traveler to recognize the other." Is your answer, and he widens his eyes in surprise, but you continue leading the way out of the room then past a door with glowing vents that when it opens, leads to a busy street. It was clear to Stephen the door was enchanted with teleportation magic. Once outside, you put on your hood.

"Not all worlds are friendly, Stephen Strange. And rule number one is that no one can be trusted." You tell them.

Stephen looks around, this world looks like his, maybe a little more advanced in technology. America crosses her arms while looking around the city. "We're not supposed to trust each other, then?" He questions you, but you chuckle again, checking on your watch.

"I trust you, Stephen Strange." That's what you told him, and then a group of people crossed your path to pass through the light. By the time Stephen tried to look for you, you had already disappeared.

He turned to America in confusion, but the girl was looking straight ahead.

"Dude, that's you over there." She pointed to a large statue across the street. Stephen's eyes widened. 

"Come on." He grunted softly before pulling America to follow him.

–//–

“Oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to Dreamwalk.”

If Strange could break both chains and immobilize Mordo somehow, he would make it to America in time. But the alarm was still ringing, and he was getting desperate.

Just as Mordo was about to hit him, something wrapped around the mage's neck and pulled him backward.

Stephen let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw that it was you - The golden thread came straight from the clock he saw you checking hours ago. Mordo fell to his knees, struggling for air as he tightened the item around him. But you didn't let go, waiting for him to pass out before releasing him.

"I told you not to trust anyone, and the first thing you did was warn them that you were from another reality!" You accused as you pulled the rope back, and prevented Mordo, now unconscious, from hitting his head on the ground as he fell.

"Hey hey hey, it's not my fault! The Strange of this world is dead. He knew as soon as I showed up." 

You rolled your eyes. "Never heard of disguise magic huh? And if he was someone you knew from your world, caution has to be doubled." You guided as you moved closer, without any difficulty to free the man from his handcuffs.

"And why is that?"

"Affection can influence your decisions. If you find a friend in the multiverse, you need to remember that it is not the person you knew." You explain shrugging your shoulders before looking around. "Come on, I think I can track the girl."

As they ran, Strange asked:

"What have you gotten yourself into anyway?"

But you only checked your watch again before looking at the doors down the hallway, continuing to lead the way at high speed.

When you came to a crossroads, and two equally desperate women bumped into you, Strange was almost surprised at the way you checked America for bruises.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked with a face streaked with concern, both hands on her shoulders. She blushed, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said clumsily. "But Wanda, she's coming and-"

Your puzzled expression made Strange sigh. It was Cristine who spoke up. "We don't have time, we'll explain it to you on the way."

You started to run, but as soon as the words Scarlet Witch echoed, your steps stopped.

"What are you doing, we have to-"

"Go." You interrupt Strange with a determined look. "I'll stay behind."

"N-no, you can't." America said in shock. "She killed everyone! You won't-"

"Kid." Stephen interrupted, understanding. "She's a Warrior of the Order, like the legend of Wong. It's her duty."

You force a reassuring smile at America and nod to the mage. "Find the book, Strange. Take America to safety, I'll take care of Wanda." You tell him before heading off in the opposite direction they were going to run.

–//–

“This isn’t what your children would want.”

As soon as the witch reached them, they deduced that you lost.

Strange tried to put up a fight, easily being subdued and pushed into another world with Cristine through the portals.

America was exhausted. She hadn't stopped running for a minute for the last few weeks, and now, it seemed, she had lost for good.

She was thrown in, but the impact with the ground never happened. Instead, someone holds her by the arms.

"All right there, little girl?" you asked. And she was fine, alive, and safe. She looked up in complete shock, and you smiled playfully, eyes scanning her face. 

"H-how you....?"

"Shh, just trust me." You whispered, and America grunted a little at the way you grabbed her arm tightly and turned to the Witch breaking dreamwalking behind you. Once Wanda stood again, you cleared your throat. "You have America as you wanted. Now keep our deal."

The girl looked at you in a mixture of indignation. "N-no, but you are our friend-"

But you squeezed her arm gently, and as Wanda began to speak, America fell silent.

"I didn't kill him, as you asked. Now, the girl." She demanded, but you frowned.

"But where is he?" You insisted, and Wanda grunted impatiently.

"The girl, Y/N!"

"Wanda." You repeated and she lost patience, a red burst leaving her fists in your direction. America imagined you would go flying off on impact, feeling you let go of her arm, but when she looked back, you had your hand raised at chest height. Wanda's magic was restrained until it was gone, and you shook your hand as if you had just caught a baseball. "I knew you were going to do that eventually. You've been dying to attack me ever since you saw me, haven't you Witchy?"

Wanda, instead of answering, attacks again, and America exclaims in surprise as she is pushed away from the line of fire. She watches the fight - if you can call Wanda's frustrated attempts to hurt you that - completely stew. Until you stop resisting completely, and Wanda realizes that her magic simply won't hurt you. 

She puts her hands down, looking at you in disbelief. "What are you?"

But you draw your dagger. Wanda tenses, ready to strike again, but she is not the one you hit. 

America screams as Wong falls to the ground, the dagger wedged into his leg as he grunts in pain - You having stopped an attempted attack on the witch.

"I am a worshipper of Chaos, and you, Scarlet Witch, are my deity." You declared surprising both girls there. Wanda stammered in shock, but America shouted indignantly.

"You lied to us!" She accused. "Strange trusted you! You said you were a warrior of the order!"

You laughed tiredly, moving toward the supreme who was bleeding enough to only be able to grumble in pain. 

"There are no more Order Warriors, America. You saw me kill the last one." You begin to count neutrally and ignore Wong's protests when you touch him, busying yourself with stopping the bleeding. "I killed all of them, actually."

America shakes her head incredulously. "N-no, you carry the same symbol as them..."

You laugh again, moving your hand to the necklace on your neck and pulling it off with a simple motion. You throw it at the feet of Wong, who, although still wounded, is no longer in danger of bleeding to death.

"Coats of arms mean nothing in this vast multiverse, America. You, of all people, should know that." You retort by moving closer again, and though she struggles against it, you lead her to the stone table without difficulty. Soon, it is Wanda's magic that is holding her. 

You sigh deeply, placing your hands on the table and closing your eyes for a moment. America notices for the first time that the item on your wrist is not really a watch, but looks more like a small computer, full of graphics and numbers, like the ones she saw at the Illuminati headquarters.

Wanda seems uncertain about approaching. "I want to talk to you." She says to you, but you laugh, taking on an aggressiveness that no one there had seen yet.

"If you want to talk, tell me where you sent him then." You retort, and Wanda sighs.

"I don't know." She replies truthfully, and you seem conflicted about yelling at her or not. "I used the girl's powers and sent him to some other universe."

"What about the book?" You ask straightening up. Wanda hesitates. "The book, Wanda."

"I destroyed it." She replies and you sigh impatiently, shaking your head. "He was going to use it to stop me-"

"No, he was going to help you." You interrupt, starting to sweat a little and leaning your body as if in pain. "Fuck, why do you have to be so stubborn in all the worlds."

Wanda swallows dryly, shifting her weight between her feet. "Have we met?"

Your eyes grow sad, but you smile. "Many lifetimes ago." That's as you reply, before turning your attention back to America, still in shock at the whole thing. "Forgive me for not being honest, Miss Chavez, but I told you not to trust anyone. Take this as a lesson."

America had no way to respond, all that came out of her mouth were the grunts of pain as her magic began to be drained. You looked away, and Wanda looked back at you.

"I have to do this. I need her powers to get to my children."

But to the witch's surprise, you chuckled, falling to sit on the floor with one hand on your stomach and the other on your face. Wanda was moving toward you before she could think about it, concern on her face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, but you gasped softly, shaking your head.

"There's more, Wanda." You began, practically pleading with her as you looked at her. "Our worlds are prisons. Kang controls everything, he needs to be stopped-argh" You cut yourself off in a groan of pain, and Wanda frowned in desperation, her hands on your shoulders trying to find some injury. But there is nothing, not even blood. "Look into my mind, find my truth. I need to..." You gasped helplessly, your forehead falling on her shoulder. 

"You're burning up with fever, Y/N." Wanda grumbled. "Show me how to help you." She whispered, her eyes turning red as she let her fingers wrap around the strands of your hair, and her magic pierced your mind.

–/–

“The Scarlet Witch is a being of unfathomable magic. She can rewrite reality as she chooses, and is prophesized to either rule or annihilate the cosmos.”

A smile played on your lips at the legend, but you waited until class was over and the students all left before you entered the room.

"You didn't have to wait for me, Professor." The male figure says without turning around, finishing putting away the items in his bag.

You laugh. "Come on, Stephen, I need some company to gossip with at lunch." You retort, making him laugh.

It doesn't take long for you to make your way out of the room, through the busy halls of the university. Stephen had just finished telling you about his and Cristine's upcoming wedding anniversary when the subject came back to you.

"Miss Maximoff seemed quite happy this morning." He commented with a hidden intent that made you laugh softly, your cheeks slightly flushed.

"Yeah, I proposed to her last night."  You confess, receiving an exclamation of excitement at the same minute. 

"Y/N, that's great! Harkness didn't tell me, that old hag." He complained making you laugh. "I'm very happy for you two, really."

You nodded embarrassed, unable to stop smiling. Strange sighed, checking his watch.

"If you run, there's time to invite her to lunch with us. Agatha might complain about someone stealing her company later."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, Professor. You can have lunch with boring old men whenever you want, but the company of your fiancée will make everything easier."

You slapped him gently, saying something about him being a friend and not a nuisance, before walking away toward the rooms again.

The floor was empty because of the lunch break, and when you opened the door to the penultimate room, you were surprised by signs of a fight.

The body on the floor took all the air out of your lungs.

"W-Wanda?" You choked, dropping your backpack and running to meet her. Shaky hands hugged her. "No, no, no. Wanda! Sweetheart, I'm here, open your eyes..."

Your sobbing was interrupted, the room was not empty. A man came through the door, wearing a black uniform. He seemed surprised to see you but didn't react with more than a tired sigh. He raised his hand to his ear.

"We have a variant, sir." He informed, not giving any thought to the two figures in the other corner. "No, not the Nexus Potential. I've already eliminated the witch, no other divergences. I was checking the area, but we had a slight change in events. Yes, the bride and the lunch option. Right, sir."

You only had time to roll out of the firing range, using the table as protection to avoid being killed.

The memories vibrated - speeding up and twitching. You were taken into custody to a place of temporal surveillance, and Wanda could feel your anger transcend those memories. The thoughts merged among other memories - flashbacks of your escape between worlds with the theft of one of the small pads the TVA used to travel the multiverse until your capture and killed.

But if you’re dead, how could you be here?

–//–

"I'm not a monster, Stephen. I'm a mother."

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. Wanda knew immediately - from the size, color of the hair, and different arrangement of the dots that you were not the same person she had seen in past memories.

Struggling with the tie until hands wrapped around your shoulders, making you laugh.

"We can't go back to that sweetie, I'm already late." You tried to negotiate, but couldn't resist the soft lips that met yours. When a hand slid into your pants, you gasped, "Wands, come on, it's our graduation..."

"Five minutes." She bargained, and you laughed softly, letting yourself be carried away as she pulled you by your loose tie to the bed.

Wanda fell in first, lying down and with her hair sprawled on the pillow. You bit your lips as she adjusted herself, your hands lifting the party dress so she could slide the panties between her legs, never breaking eye contact with you.

When the item fell, you grunted but it was from pain. You fell to your knees, with your hand on your head, and Wanda watched as her version immediately rushed to your rescue, trying to figure out what was wrong.

The Scarlet Witch looked into the mirror, able to see the cosmic entity possessing you.  Sharing the memories of the life you just lost.

An exclamation of surprise made Wanda turn her attention back to the two teenagers in the commode, and she was surprised to see you grab your girlfriend by the neck.

"Who are you?" you questioned evidentially confused, and the witch variant gasped in fear and confusion.

"Babe, it's me, Wanda-"

You let out, blinking in confusion, and bringing your hands to her cheeks as if seeing her for the first time. "My god, Wanda, look at you. You're so young..."

"Y/N, you're scaring me."

But you stood up, returning to the mirror and groping your face as if you could hardly believe you were really there. "It worked, honey. I remember everything."

"Babe, what are you talking...?"

You turned back to her, helping her to her feet and placing her in a sitting position on the bed. "Forgive me for the scare, I've never had a subjugation before. I am not the Y/N you know, I will never be again. This is painful, and I hate that you lost her, but there was no other way. We are all trapped, living in a sick little game of someone who thinks he is a god. I'm going to set us free."

Wanda denied with her head, concern in her expression. "Babe, did you hit your head somewhere? What are you talking about..."

But you offered her a sad smile, holding her cheeks. "God, you are so young. My memories are merging, this variant was so lucky to meet you in school, you two had so much fun. She, I, love you. Deeply, and in all universes apparently." You commented with a tearful laugh. "Forgive me for taking this away from you, but it will be safer this way."

Wanda blinked in confusion, but soon, her eyes went dark. You were erasing your existence from her mind.

The Scarlet Witch tensed as your gaze met hers, just inside the memory.

"You're in the wrong place, Wanda. Look deeper, don't mind the pain." That's what the memory - or your conscience - told her.

When the scene changed again, she expected everything but the twins.

Wanda choked, but they couldn't see her. Still, she was crying.

"Man, you're cheating!" Billy complained, elbowing his brother sitting next to him. They were older than Wanda had ever seen them, almost sixteen, and both were playing video games. Tommy rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

"Don't be such a bad loser." He retorted, but they began to push each other until a golden light separated them. 

"I said no more fighting!" Your voice rang out, and it had evidently been your magic that separated the boys, who grumbled loudly. 

"Sorry, Mom!" they spoke in unison, but you only muttered something about teenagers, busy climbing a small ladder from the bookcase. 

Wanda was not so surprised by her variant's presence next - leaving the kitchen and kissing you against the bookshelf before starting to help you with the organization of the items. No, what took the air out of her lungs was the black figures coming through the garden that she could see through the window.

She tried to warn, despair filling her chest even though it was useless to wave at a memory. 

And soon, she was staring at bodies.

A soldier grabbed you by the hair, and you faced your murdered family for the next few minutes until they were cleared by the TVA to report in.

The Scarlet Witch was crying too, and when the memory switched to the TVA base, this time you didn't run away like the first time. No, this time you took your time to make a massacre.

And Wanda believes that you were right.

–//–

“Oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to Dreamwalk.”

Wanda was in an open field. And even though it was a memory, the magic there was so strong that she felt her body shiver with cold.

It was dark magic. Very powerful, very filthy. Cursed, if you can put it that way.

Following the sounds of fighting, she ended up in a more private area, like a camp. But the vast majority of the soldiers were dead, leaving only one pair.

Armor suits you, Wanda thought when she saw the variant. But she pushed the thought away at the same second.

The third figure was out of the fray. It was a hooded man, and he was hurrying away with the items on the table.

You won the fight, and as your opponent fell, you turned to the other.

"Kang, enough running away." You warned, but he ignored it, wasting no time in trying to hit you with magic, which you used a shield to block. 

"Killing me doesn't change anything!" He shouted back, and despite the fear on his face, there was confidence behind his words that made Wanda shudder. He spread his arms, gesturing to his surroundings. "I am just one of many. You can't stop us!"

He ran, but you hurled your sword at his thigh, and he fell with a cry of pain. You approached him breathless from the struggle.

"I am saving these people, Y/N. Try to see." He rants, getting an incredulous laugh.

"If these people stay within your plan, of course." You mock, taking off your practically ruined armor. Kang grunts in irritation.

"They make sure the multiverse doesn't break. You don't understand what I am doing here. The greatness of my work!"

But you sigh wearily, pulling a dagger from your belt. Kang shakes his head.

"Please, mercy."

"Mercy? Are you fucking with me now, Kang?" You retort angrily, hitting his face with the hilt of the dagger so hard that he falls to the ground. "You killed my family in 182 different worlds. All because they stepped out of what you thought was right for your ideal timeline. I had to watch my wife die in 72 different lifetimes, and then my children. And you have the audacity to ask me for mercy?"

Kang gushes blood on the floor, looking at you with neutrality.

"The multiverse needs order." He says, but you laugh, hitting him hard again.

You grab him by the collar of his shirt next, your face full of fury. "I'm going to destroy every stone in that place, and when I'm done, I'm going to hunt down every version of you. You won't live, Kang, anywhere. You have lost the right to exist."

He grunts in pain as you slowly dig the dagger into his chest. He uses his last strength to place his hand over yours. "If you love chaos so much, worship it. I cursed you."

You jumped away from his touch with a surprised sigh, and Kang fell backward, dead. A smile on his face nonetheless.

Wanda saw you shudder as if you were seeing a ghost, and begin to hug and scratch yourself as if you were sick, despair in your eyes.

The color of the sky changed to a vibrant red, and Wanda immediately recognized the same atmosphere as in her own home. The ground began to rot beneath Kang's body, but the roots reached toward your ankles.

"N-no, please...." You tried to whimper, fighting against the restraints and reaching for the dagger. But no matter how hard you cut, the roots wouldn't let go, and the crater that opened up and swallowed the enchanter's body was getting closer by the second. You cried but shook your head before forcing the dagger against your own chest.

When you died, Wanda was pushed away.

–//–

“This isn’t what your children would want.”

Blood. Everywhere, from the ceiling to the floor, from the tips of your shoes to the last strand of your hair.

Your mouth also tasted iron.

Golden chains glittered amidst the slaughter, and you dropped the dagger to the floor, the sound of an electronic alarm clock blaring in the room.

But it wasn't a clock you looked at. It looked like one, it was the same shape at least, but when you ran your hand over it, holograms became visible, and because Wanda couldn't see in the reflection of anything in the room, she knew immediately that only you could see that information - and now so could she, from within your memories.

It was a timer in reality. And it had just restarted.

You started to cry, but moved to the bodies one by one, tearing the chains or golden rings off the victims.

Wanda watched as you gathered them all up and knelt down as if to pray. You closed your eyes and whispered in a language too ancient for her to recognize.

Runes appeared on the wall, burning and destroying like fire. The rings and chains that you had placed in front of you drifted to the ground until they disappeared. You opened your eyes, sighing wearily.

"I did what you asked, my lord. Now free me. I beg you." You choked on a sob, lowering your face to recover. 

At first, Wanda thought maybe you were talking to Kang - another version that was more powerful. But when the room shook, and a low, demonic laugh filled her ears, she knew better. 

You shuddered like the witch watching your memories.

"Free you? Why would I do that when you are such an obedient pet?" Mocked a male voice, the runes vibrating with his words. Wanda held her breath. It was suffocating, like the ones she hears in the darkhold.

You sniffled. "I-I did what you asked. Please."

But the demon laughed again. "It wasn't me who conjured your curse, sorceress." He reminded in a provocative tone. "Don't act like I'm not merciful to you. All those walks between the worlds. I could have turned you over to the Living Court, but I accepted you as a servant in spite of everything. Don't forget how many crimes you committed..."

"They hurt my family!" You tried but grunted in pain afterward - Wanda understood that the demon could also punish her physically when it wished.

"Puppets, Y/N. You know that." He retorted more calmly. "All those variants in the service of a man, a pathetic human who thinks he can play god. You know my limitations in this dimension my siblings cursed me to, I need warriors like you, willing to break the order for me."

You whimpered a little, massaging your stomach before raising your face to the runes.

"Chthon, please." You pleaded, and there was a pause.

"It was good service, child, I admit." He says. "I will be merciful again, given your exceptional competence. I have never had such a talented warrior, not even Mephisto with his Riders are so efficient. I will promote you."

"B-but you told me you were going to free me!" 

This time, whatever he did made you scream in pain and fall to the ground. As you recovered, trembling in a fetal position, Wanda felt a presence materialize behind her.

"Apparently, your new boss is already here."

Wanda froze, not having the courage to look back and confirm if there really was someone behind her. She could feel it, but when she risked looking into the mirrors, there was no reflection. If Chthon was here, he wasn't really there.

"I will present you with the most honorable position you could ever imagine, child." Says the demon. "And believe me, you will like the Witch I have chosen."

You squirm softly, fighting the pain to sit up again. "Don't make me kill anyone else, please."

Chthon laughs, with delight. "Why do mortals fear death that much? I've never understood it. It is what you were created to do."

"Please, my lord." You repeat with your head down, and Wanda can hear the demon sigh impatiently.

"You will not kill unless she asks you to do so, I promise."

You blink in confusion, looking up. " D-don't you want me to kill the witch?"

Chthon laughs indignantly. "What, my Scarlet Witch? Of course not. She's precious, she's... merchandise. My most powerful toy, and so her collar breaks easily. That's where you come in, little one. I have ways of keeping her under my command, the demons imprisoned in my teachings can affect anyone. But witches less powerful than her have already resisted the influence of my darkhold, after all, you can't keep poking the same wound and have the same effect forever. If there's one thing your kind does annoyingly well, it's adapt."

You wipe your face, breathing wearily. "Where should I find her and when should I bring her to you?"

The commode goes silent until you sniffle again.

"You are hers, Y/N, not the other way around." Chthon clarifies making you shudder. "You stay with her until she gets bored, I imagine."

You deny with your head, sobbing before pleading:

"I did what you asked! Why are you doing this-"

But the room shudders, and you fall silent in an exclamation of pain.

"You are insolent, girl. It angers me deeply. I have been benevolent to you all this time, and you are never grateful. Get back to work, I just increased your debt. You don't stop until every trace of Oshtur is banished from this dimension, and when it's over, I might consider telling Wanda to have mercy on you."

You raise your head immediately at the mention of the name, confusion stamped on your face. "W-Wanda? What about her?"

Chthon's laugh is even more sinister. "Oh, did I forget to mention? Funny thing, fate. No matter how much Kang alters things, trying to make sure that in the worlds he thinks he controls you and Wanda never met, things always go back to how they're supposed to happen." Narrates the demon mysteriously. "Wanda Maximoff is my scarlet witch, my queen of chaos. And you are to be her worshipper."

For the first time, the gleam in your eyes is one of fury, not fear. "How dare you involve her in this, Chthon? That's dirty, even for you."

Chthon laughs, and the room shudders, but this time, the pain only makes your expression falter a little. You bear it. 

"Your mistake was underestimating how important she is to me, you old demon. I hope you rot in your forgotten kingdom." You warned, getting up with a little difficulty. Chthon continued laughing until you reached the door.

"You cannot contradict the mark of the curse, Y/N. Even death won't rid you of me."

Wanda knew it was hurting. The blood coming out of your ears was fresh, and you were limping. But you kept walking.

"She will come to you in four winters, be ready to kneel." It was the demon's last warning before the runes disappeared.

The memory breaks, transforming into one that Wanda was present.

"I'm so sorry Peggy." You whispered before sliding the dagger away, holding your friend’s of other lifes body as she falls dead to the ground. It was a quick death, at least. Captain Marvel was next, Wanda almost thought it was you actually, but she lowered her hands when she saw that you were fighting alongside her, and not the other way around.

Maria didn't even have time to understand what was happening properly before she felt the blow.

Your hands were shaking, but you took a deep breath.

"Who are you?" Wanda asked in a thick accent. You put the dagger away.

"A friend, if you want me to be." You answer, and as you approach, she tenses, her serious face analyzing you. You don't lose your ground. "You won't be able to read my thoughts with a variant, Wanda. I'm as strong as you are."

"Hard to believe that." She retorts almost cockily, and you can't help the smile that fills your lips. 

"I guarantee it, but I don't want to face you. I didn't come here for that." 

"And why did you come here for?"

"You." You answer bluntly. "I know more than you can imagine, far beyond what darkhold says is the truth. I will tell you everything I know if you will do one thing for me."

"I could rip the truth out of you." She retorts without hesitation, but you take another step forward.

"Not when you can be reasonable." You say and she locks her jaw, but you chuckle softly, taking another step toward her, now close enough to touch. "Let's make a deal. You want the girl, but not the sorcerer. Let Strange live, in another life, he was a friend. Someone who set me free, allowed me to see the truth. I owe it to him. You will go through that door, and you will have the girl as you wanted, but Strange will try to get a book, which you must not destroy. Promise."

"I won't promise anything, we don't even know each other-"

"I'll do anything you want." You cut her off pleadingly. "Your plan is to stay in another world with your children? I know the multiverse, I know how worlds work, in-depth. I can guide you wherever you want, I can even help you drain America's power properly. Just-"

"We have a deal." It's her turn to interrupt you, and you sigh in relief. You swallow dryly then and give her passage.

"They went in that direction." You say, and Wanda hesitates just before she starts walking. 

"Aren't you coming?" she asks, but you give her a small smile, your eyes hiding a sad gleam.

"My loyalty does not belong to this variant of you." You said, and when Wanda turned around, you returned your attention to the clock on your wrist. To the timer ticking in a few minutes.

The ground disappeared because you teleported.

–//–

“You ever had that dream where you’re falling as if you’ve been pushed off a tall building? That was probably me.”

Wanda helped you sit up properly until you support your back on the wall.

"Tell me how to help you. Please." The witch asked with her hands on your cheeks burning with fever. You gasped in pain, trying to check your watch again.

"Command." You muttered weakly, to which Wanda only frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"Chaos time. I need to... obey." You tried to respond beyond pain, but it was enough for Wanda. She nodded and looked around, trying to think of something. 

"D- does it need to be an action, or can it be anything? "She asked and you almost whimpered in pain, only not falling to the ground because Wanda was holding you up.

"Anything, Wanda." You sigh. She swallows dryly, determined.

"Tell me how to get my children back."

You gasp in pain before forcing yourself to answer, " You can't, not this way... They control everything. If you don't have them, it's because the TVA wanted it that way. You can't steal them from somewhere else, they'll come after you. Believe me, I already tried. You didn't see it, but the memories are here, of the lives I tried to own. Worlds break like glass when we do that, Wanda. There can only be one of us, or we can't stay."

Wanda shakes her head, refusing to believe it. You can adjust a little, "I can make it work." She stubbornly says. "My magic is powerful enough."

But it's your turn to deny it with your head. "No, Wanda, don't you see? This is what he wants you to do. Break the multiverse, destroy worlds for him. I did that, and Kang can sell my soul to Chthon with a simple call. I don't want you to be his puppet too."

Wanda swallows dryly, trying to control the urge to cry. She puts her hands on your shoulders. "Tell me how to free you, we'll do it together."

"I don't know how, I don't think it's possible. If it is, I don't know that answer." You retort, panting a little but breathing better now that you have obeyed two orders. "Your pain, Wanda, he uses to blind you. Doesn't rewriting reality allow you to see how much bigger things are? I need to free the worlds Kang imprisons, if not, nothing matters because he will keep changing all events to his liking."

Wanda sighs, leaning her forehead against yours. "I can't give up on them." She whispers, and it is her turn to sigh.

"Ask me." You say, and she pulls away a little just to look at you. "Ask me to take over the influence."

"W-what?"

"That's why I wanted you not to destroy the book of the Vishanti. In it, there were counter-spells for the darkhold. I wanted to rewrite what is stated in the sacred timeline, I believed that as a Nexus being, you could. But apparently, Kang is still in front of me." You say with a sad laugh. "The only reason he doesn't hunt me down like he does all my versions now, is that this one here belongs to Chaos. Kang can play god, but he's not a real one, and even he knows that. The curse was a backfire because I learned to move beyond it. Every day, I have shifts of obedience, where the chaos becomes too strong for me to ignore. When I must comply, I work for Chthon, but when I am free, I work against Kang. It's hard and tiring, but I've freed worlds from his command this way. It worked for a while until Chthon got you involved."

Wanda swallowed dryly but did not interrupt. Her body shuddered a little. 

"I belong to Scarlet Witch now, but before...I was once only Wanda's. My friend, my wife." You counter with a sad smile. "And I cannot watch you continue to hurt yourself. Ask me to take over the darkhold's influence, and I will make all voices that are not yours disappear from your head."

Wanda hesitates. "I can't do that to you."

"Yes, you can." You insist, offering her a tender smile. "I'll be fine, I promise. It won't be even remotely the first time I've had to face demons." You joke, but just from the weak smile, there is a pang of guilt on her face that you cannot ignore. "Please, Wanda. It hurts me more to see you lose yourself."

She sniffles a little, looking away. Wanda takes a deep breath and takes your hand in her lap. "I want you to take the influence." She commands, and with that, she feels as if a weight is being lifted off her back. You, in return, grunt in pain and squeeze her hand. Wanda sniffles again, holding you back. "Hey, I'm here."

But you sob, letting your face fall onto her shoulder, your body shaking in spasms. She holds you close, stroking your back gently.

Strange appears in battle mode - and undead - only to find the Witch he came to face embracing someone he figured to be dead. America, free of her powers since Wanda was rid of the book's influence, was kneeling beside Wong.

"You took your time." Ironized the Supreme to the Zombie, but Strange only made a confused expression.

"What...?"

"It's a long story, but I think Wanda will explain everything when Y/N feels better. They're kind of wives, you know? It's pretty cool." America commented, helping Wong to stand. She noticed the zombie's hesitation. "Yeah, Y/N tricked us. But it was for a good cause. Apparently, there is a war going on in the multiverse that we know nothing about. But don't you think we'd better take Wong for medical attention first?"

With that, Strange comes out of shock and nods. As soon as he realizes his real condition, however, he calls America. The girl laughs softly. "Don't worry, I'll find you." She assures him before Wong conjures a portal to the Kamar Taj.

–//–

A familiar smell of food filled your senses as you began to undress, and because it had been god knows how many universes since you first smelled it, you practically jumped out of bed.

The exertion made your body complain, but you ignored the pain and followed the aroma, not recognizing the cabin you were in but appreciating the beauty of the place.

"Wanda." You called out to her as soon as the figure became visible, and the woman made a surprised expression.

"Y/N, you shouldn't be standing!" She tried to ration, leaving the pans to approach you, but you swallowed dryly, shuddering when her hands touched your arms.

"How did you...?"

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe." She assures you sweetly, caressing your body and then bringing her hands to your cheeks. "Don't think too much, you need to rest first. And eat, if you're feeling well enough to do so. Come, I made your favorite."

She tries to drag you by the hand, but you keep your ground.

"How do you know it's my favorite?"

Wanda sighs, taking her gaze from your joined hands to look into your eyes. "I looked. Everything, from the very beginning. I needed to know if I could trust you."

"What about me, Wanda?" You challenged. "How do I know if I can trust you, if you're not another one of Kang's puppets?"

Wanda released your hand only to bring it to her face.

"I'm not. I promise." She says with her strong accent. "And you can guarantee that."

You frown slightly, but she smiles, smoothing your cheek.

"Teach me the consciousness transfer spell." She asks. "That way, it will be me. All the versions you've ever known and lost, in one. But come eat first, we'll have time for that later."

The food was delicious, it was like tasting a memory. You almost cried with longing for a home you could never step inside again.

Wanda understood the feeling.

"You are uneasy." She comments a long moment later, her fingers tracing a drawing on the table, and her eyes watching for any reaction from you. "Your head is noisy."

"It's not me." You retort almost between your teeth, half gasping, and startling her. "It's the God of Chaos and his circus of demons."

Wanda swallows dryly, moving her hand to yours in your lap.

"Tell me how to help you."

And that makes you give a small, tired laugh, entwining your fingers in hers. "That's my job, Scarlet Witch."

But Wanda doesn't smile, squeezing. "Then I command you to let me help you." She says seriously. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I don't deserve-"

You interrupt her with a kiss. Firm and passionate, and needy. Wanda chokes in surprise, pulling back but you hold her hand in yours and she doesn't pull away much further than that. She blinks between confusion and doubt, and only meets your devoted irises, letting out a shaky breath before sinking in once more, kissing with intent now.

She has never felt the sensation before - not in her own experience at least - and it is intoxicating. She remembers the feeling from watching your memories about variants of herself that you kissed, made love to, and fucked, but nothing counts as the actual experience. Your lips feel as it should, your tongue explores her mouth with experience and familiarity. You bite a little just the way she likes it.

And it's too much. 

Wanda hasn't had real intimacy in years, and it overwhelms and frightens. She pushes your shoulder, panting and clumsy as she stands up, babbling about too fast, too new. 

"Forgive me." You interrupt as soon as you find a gap. She swallows dryly as she turns her expression to you, finding her equally affected but evidently exhausted as well. "You've seen my head, Wanda. I know it's too much. You know how much I've lost, everything I've done to get this far. All the way to the version of you that could put an end to this sick cycle." You say, your eyes filling with tears. "But baby, I've traveled a thousand worlds to be with you. You are my only destiny in this vast multiverse, Wanda. And you need to know that I will want to kiss you whenever I get the chance."

She gives a tearful laugh, moving closer again and kneeling at the height of her chair.

"First tell me how to make the pain stop." She asks again, and you sigh, moving closer to kiss her forehead, one hand smoothing her hair.

"Don't worry, witchy. Pain only makes us stronger."

"Y/N, please-"

"It's a pleasure to take it for you." You interrupt seriously. "If chthon wants a chat, he'll get me, not you. And that's final. Would you like to help me, dear? Start with Kang, help me free these worlds and stay with me." You say looking into her eyes. "Will you do that, Wanda? Stay?"

A smile forms on your lips, and Wanda leans in, mere centimeters from your face.

"Of course, darling. You are my destiny too."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 3)

A/N: for masterlist formatting reasons I'm just going to post this at the same time as rewritten chapter two, so enjoy having two to read at once :)

WARNINGS: Blood, gore, and mentions of rape

Word Count: 6k

—————

After marching for nearly half of the day, there was less than an hour left until we finally reached King’s Landing. Loras and I had talked for a good bit of the trip, but I could tell that there was quite a lot on his mind. I supposed that similarly, there was also much on my mind, for this was one of the first major battles I would lead this many men into. 

I was glad that Loras and I were leading the vanguard, because that was where the fighting was thickest. I’d always been inclined towards danger, even if my brother and I were too skilled to end up actually getting ourselves killed. There was truly no rush like being surrounded by men and needing to fight your way out. For me, at least. 

At the present moment, the thing giving me the most excitement was knowing that my father would be riding alongside Tywin Lannister. Gods, my father would be making him absolutely miserable. It made me smile brighter than a thousand suns. 

“Are you… are you nervous at all?”

The sound of Loras’ voice broke me out of these happy thoughts, and I raised an eyebrow at him from underneath my helmet. Was something giving him the impression that I was nervous?

“Of course not, why?”

“Well… what if Stannis manages to take King’s Landing? What if we’ve come too late? Or what if our numbers still aren’t enough?” Loras asked, voicing his concerns on the subject. I instantly realized that he was nervous. It had perhaps not helped that the capital was now in sight. 

“He’s not going to take King’s Landing, Loras. I promise you that much. Not only would he have to get past our entire army and fleet, he’d have to climb the walls and break down the mud gate too. I assure you that there is nothing to worry about-”

My sentence was suddenly cut off by the earth below us shaking, and many of the horses became somewhat startled. I furrowed my eyebrows with confusion, looking toward the Red Keep for any sign of explosion. Anything that had made the ground tremble like this must’ve been massive, and I certainly did not like the thought of that.

Just beyond the castle, I spotted a mass of bright green fire. Wildfire, no doubt. My heart dropped, because while it appeared to be coming from the bay, it was impossible to tell. Had Stannis used it, or had we?

“Loras… Loras keep marching with the men, I’ll be back in just a moment,” I said mindlessly, gripping the reins of my horse and turning around to try and find Lord Tywin. It was entirely possible that he might know something about this if it had come from our side. 

I had been riding toward the back when I saw another rider approaching me, a red sash fashioned around his armor. I slowed my horse, feeling somewhat breathless despite the fact that I had done absolutely nothing. I lifted the eye covering of my helm, watching Lord Tywin do the same as he pulled his door styled covering open. We instantly made eye contact, and there was quite a serious look on his face.

“What happened? Did you see?” he questioned, pulling his horse closer to mine so we were directly facing each other. If I’d moved over anymore, our opposite legs would’ve been touching. 

“It was wildfire. It did not look as though it was touching the actual Keep, but it was hard to tell. If I had to make a guess, I would assume it was in the bay. I wanted to ask if you knew anything of it, but- well…” I trailed off, having my question answered by the fact that he had to ask what had happened. Naturally, he hadn’t seen it from the back. 

“Well, to shake the ground the way it did, it must’ve been quite a lot. King Aerys was rather fond of wildfire, as I’m certain you’re well aware. Perhaps… well, perhaps it was stored away,” Lord Tywin said, though it almost felt like he was thinking out loud. I nodded in response, hoping that he was correct in his guess. 

“But if… if that did come from Stannis, what do we- would you… would you still want to lead the men into battle?” I questioned, swallowing so that I would refrain from asking him ‘what do we do’. That was one of the last things I would ever permit myself to say to Tywin Lannister. 

The Old Lion looked at me for a moment, contemplating and then appearing to settle on something. The challenge in his eyes returned as he sat a bit straighter and looked down at me.

“You tell me, Lady Tyrell, in your infinite wisdom.”

I nearly scowled at him, infuriated over the fact that somehow, even in this dire situation, he still managed to be an utter cunt. I held myself back, however. I couldn’t be angry now, I had to be logical and smart. What would I do? To let Stannis take King’s Landing would be unforgivable, but would it be even worse to lead tens of thousands into a pointless slaughter?

“It- It depends. If you think it’s most likely that it came from your son, then we should expect to see Stannis’ ships burning in the bay. But… if that did come from Stannis, we ought to be careful. If we see that his ships are untouched, then I will lead the vanguard on my own. That explosion was so big it must’ve… well, it must’ve taken quite a lot of wildfire. I would doubt that he has more, but just to be certain I think it would be best… best to only take the vanguard at first,” I strategized, having to raise my voice over the sound of men marching around us. The entire situation was rather stress inducing, and I could see a distinct fear on the faces of soldiers around us.

“You ought to lead the vanguard from the back then, Lady (Y/N). If Stannis still does have wildfire-”

“I will be burned alive. I know, Lord Tywin. Nevertheless, I will lead from the front. The vanguard must always be led that way,” I replied firmly, swallowing whatever nerves I had in face of my principles. Being killed by wildfire did not sound pleasant, but it was still entirely possible that it had not even come from Stannis to begin with. 

Lord Tywin blinked a few times, looking at me with a sort of curious observation. I assumed that he was trying to figure out whether or not I was utterly insane. It was highly likely, I supposed.

“I see. Very well, Lady (Y/N). It is not a call you need to make yet, but you will know before I do. I am entrusting the vanguard, and my men, to your judgment,” he said, taking a deep breath. Under a different situation, I might have thought him sarcastic, but there was something genuine in his voice. Even despite all our hatred for one another, he at the very least knew I could be trusted to make a smart decision. 

Somehow, the biggest compliment I’d ever received had just come from the man I hated more than anything. 

Lord Tywin and I looked at each other one last time before parting ways, and as I began riding to the front, our drummers began to play something. It was not until the singing started that I realized it was the Rains of Castamere. 

Hundreds—if not thousands—of Lannister soldiers had joined in on the recognizable tune, and it somehow seemed to be replacing their fear with pride. It was a good thing, I thought. In a few minutes, they might all be dead. 

I found my brother leading at the front, and he was instantly relieved by the sight of me. I rode up beside him, putting my eye covering back down in case I looked frightened. In all honesty, I could not discern my own emotions. I was never afraid of fighting men, but wildfire would mean death, and not even the best armor would be able to keep me from that. 

“(Y/N), what did Lord Tywin say? What are we- what are we supposed to do?” Loras questioned, a slight tremble in his voice. Neither of us had prepared for something like this. 

“It is my call to make… when we- when we get there, I have to assess the situation and make a decision,” I said, nearly choking on my own saliva. Gods, I hated this feeling. I turned to my brother then, my voice entirely serious as I spoke. “And Loras, I need you to promise me something right now. Promise that no matter what I say, you will listen. I need to make sure that you obey whatever command I give. As your commander, not as your sister.”

Something in Loras shifted then, and I could tell he was processing the fact that this situation might be utterly horrible. He nodded at me, but that was not enough.

“Say it, Loras. I need to hear you say that you’ll obey.”

“I will. I will… I will obey any command you give.”

I sighed out then, pressing my lips together and nodding. It was the only thing I needed to hear from him, even if it probably wasn’t entirely truthful.

With each step forward that my horse took, I felt myself getting closer and closer to vomiting. I had never prayed so fervently as I begged the gods to let it have been Tyrion Lannister’s wildfire and not Stannis’. The only thing I could think about was how the men would scream as they burned, and it made me want to hyperventilate. To have men die in battle was normal, but to have them be slaughtered was devastating. 

However, as the Blackwater Bay finally came into view, a giant wave of relief hit me. Stannis’ ships were flaming in the water, and his men were desperately trying to get to the landmass south of the river. Loras turned to me, waiting for me to say something.

“We need to move faster. We can’t let them cross the rush,” I thought aloud, settling into my saddle and licking my lips. I turned to the men behind us, all mounted and waiting for my instruction. Though, I could similarly see them preparing to draw swords and spur their horses. 

“Men! Stannis and his army mean to cross the Blackwater Rush and take King’s Landing. They mean to take the throne and all seven kingdoms with it. Do you want fucking Stannis Baratheon for your king?” I shouted at them, putting as much volume into my voice as I possibly could. What sounded like the voice of nearly every man there shouted back a distinct ‘no!’

I smiled, for it was the most invigorating thing I’d ever heard.

“No! Of course not. Nobody wants Stannis, the boring, cold, and stale cunt sitting on the throne! And that’s why we are about to go kill every last one of his pathetic soldiers and make sure that he doesn’t! And just to be sure, I want to see Stannis’ head detached from his fucking body by the time the sun rises over Blackwater Bay!” I yelled out, grinning as the men cheered and whistled at my sentiments. I could feel my blood pumping through every single vein in my body, and at that moment, I don’t believe that even wildfire itself could’ve stricken the pride and confidence from my body.

“Now, let’s go fucking slaughter them!”

I unsheathed my sword, raising it into the air and smiling as the shouts of thousands came back at me. I had spurred my horse then, and so did Loras. For the second time that night, the earth shook as men on horseback and on foot followed eagerly behind and alongside us. I was right next to Loras, and as we approached their men, I couldn’t help but smile. Somehow this was all I had dreamed of since I was a young girl.

And it became even better as we started to plough into their army. 

I was gripping onto my reins with one hand and swinging at the soldiers below me with the other. Several attempted to fight back, but many of them failed. In fact, I became particularly giddy as I managed to slice a few men’s heads clean off. 

Our line of horses had broken apart, and I no longer knew where Loras was. It had given me initial panic, but I knew I couldn’t focus on it or else I would be putting myself in danger. Especially because, while it was a great advantage to be on a horse, the risk of it being cut down beneath you was a very serious one. 

As I struck another man down, I found myself scanning the battlefield. I could hear shouts of ‘Renly!’ in the midst of screaming and armor, which certainly made me smile. My plan had worked after all, and it was especially clear as Stannis’ men began to join our side. 

Feeling content in that, I turned to face the shore. The vanguard was trying its hardest to keep Stannis’ soldiers from crossing the river, but there were still so many of them that it was inevitable. Thankfully, that was our only concern. Our fleets had already arrived and were absolutely destroying the small portion that was left of Stannis’.

I did not ponder this long, however, because I was still directing my horse through hoards of Baratheon soldiers. Man after man was plucked down by my sword, and even those who weren’t killed immediately would be dead within hours. The poison on my blade would see to that. 

Though, my time on horseback had unfortunately come to an end. After realizing how destructive I was, a few of Stannis’ men had purposefully sought out my horse and slashed at its ankles. It went down instantly, and so did I with it.

Everything moved in a blur as I flew from atop my horse and hit the ground. I landed on my back, which caused the air to escape from my lungs. I forced myself to roll away, however, avoiding the weight of my horse landing on top of my legs. 

I had also hit my head rather badly, even despite my helm. I felt like my entire world was spinning, and that combined with being breathless was utterly awful. Gasping for air, I reached for the head covering and pulled it off entirely. Perhaps it was utterly stupid, but it helped me see more clearly and fight off how dizzy I was. 

I forced myself to stand up, which thankfully helped clear my airways at least a little bit. I was still wheezing, however, and it made me panic as I looked around for the men who had disabled my horse. One of them had been conveniently crushed under the animal, and the other two had gotten on their knees to try and pull him out. 

Coughing a little bit, I grabbed my sword from the dirt and rocks beneath my feet and approached them. They were so desperate to save their friend that they hadn’t even noticed me. 

“Hey! You fucking cunts!” I shouted, getting their attention as I crept up behind them. Before they could fully turn and rise, I grabbed one of the men's heads, reaching around and slitting his throat as if I were ripping a sheet of parchment. The other one tried to get up, but was so shocked that he stumbled backward. 

I coughed again, inhaling deeply and scowling as I took the handle of my blade in both hands and moved toward him. He attempted to get up again, but was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn’t. It was utterly pathetic. 

He began feeling around himself, realizing that he had dropped his sword when trying to help the stuck man earlier. He found a small knife, however, and held it out toward me. I genuinely began to smile, so amused by the thought that this man believed he had a chance. He was better off saying a prayer. 

In a few quick seconds, I swung my leg out, knocking the blade from his hand and pinning his arm to the ground beside his head. I then plunged my sword straight through his rather poorly-made breastplate and listened to him scream. And he had thought that taking me off of my horse would make me less dangerous. He should have known that the exact opposite was the truth. 

When I removed my sword from his chest and looked around, I realized that the fighting was already beginning to thin out. I nearly laughed, for so much importance had been placed on this battle, and yet our vanguard alone was ripping through Stannis’ men. The rest of the Tyrell and Lannister men had also joined us, but they were hardly even needed. 

I, of course, was not about to miss out on the slaughter. This was only the second major battle I had ever fought in, and—with the same naivety that I’d had at 14 and 15—I found it quite exciting. I was instantly throwing myself into the thick of the fighting, gutting man after man. To me, there was a sort of rhythm in fighting. I couldn’t lie to myself, I did enjoy the feeling of thrusting my sword into another person, perhaps in the same way that many enjoyed the feeling of pushing their needles into needlework. But, to be truly good at something does make it enjoyable, and the same went for my swordsmanship. 

As I killed Stannis’ men, I got the rush of adrenaline that comes from such intense situations, but I felt little fear because of my training and skill. They were no real competition for me, merely targets. They would always scream and yell at me when they swung, as if somehow that would give them a better chance at killing me. When I blocked their advances and swiftly cut through them, they would go silent for just a moment. Then their eyes would go wide, as if realizing that they were going to die, and—just as they called out for their mothers—the blood would spurt from their throats. Thus continued the cycle of stupid men who believed a woman would be an easy target, or the even stupider men who knew who I was and believed they could take me down anyway.

As I once again thrust my sword into another man and felt his blood splattering against my face, there was a general cheer coming from all around me. I instantly looked up, realizing that many of Stannis’ men had begun to retreat toward the shoreline in a desperate attempt to get away.

Foolishly, I permitted myself to relax a bit and began to smile at the sight. The battle was clearly won, even if some men refused to leave and wanted to die ‘valiantly’. I supposed I could not judge, for I would be inclined to do the same in their situation. 

However, my feeling of victory disappeared when I turned around and noticed one of the largest men I’d ever seen in my life staring directly at me. He was obviously a Baratheon soldier, and the way he was looking at me sent a small shiver up my spine. I could not tell if he wanted to kill or rape me—or both. 

However, as he raised his sword and began to approach me, I decided that the first of those options was the more immediate problem. I instantly raised my own blade, and mentally began to curse my fancy armor, because there was no doubt in my mind that it had made me a rather obvious target. And while I usually did not mind that, I disliked any feeling of insecurity when I was facing an opponent, and this man's height and sheer muscle certainly made me feel more than just a bit insecure. 

Nevertheless, I forced myself to swallow this fear. If I played this smart, his physical characteristics would be of no importance whatsoever. And I felt utterly confident that I could play this smart; I would simply have to be careful. 

I prepared to block him as he began to pick up speed, sword raised into the air as he ran. His blow seemed to come down in one swift movement, and I groaned out with exertion as I held my own sword up and felt the two blades clashing against each other. He was so insanely strong that my arms began to quiver after a few seconds, and I had to scrape my sword along his as I quickly moved aside. He had been pressing down on me with so much pressure that it made his weapon slice into the dirt.

And after a moment, I realized that his sword had not only sliced the dirt, but the rocks too. I furrowed my eyebrows, and examined his sword. It was then, after finding a clean spot at the base of the metal, that I realized it was valyrian steel. Another shiver went up my spine as I realized it was entirely possible that he could probably cut straight through my armor, even despite its good quality. How had this man acquired valyrian steel?

I didn’t have much time to ponder the question, though, because I had to act fast. While he unstuck his sword from the earth, I was moving forward, swinging at and slicing his ankle. The man groaned out, and like some sort of monster from the tales my septa had told me as a child, he rose with even more anger. Again, he was swinging fiercely at me. I managed to block each one, for that was a matter of skill, but I could not hold my sword up for very long. That was the other difficulty: he was so tall that all his blows came down at me rather than from the sides. 

When he continued to swing at me, I forced myself to give up on blocking and instead prioritize dodging. It was a frightening thing to do, for I could hear the distinct ‘whoosh’ of his giant weapon. If I had not been so swift, I feared he might’ve cut an ear off. 

While dodging his advances, I had to force myself to formulate a plan. Because yes, I could try and tire him out, but I was growing just as exhausted as he was. When he finally did falter, I would need to have an actual move ready to go. I needed to find a way to put myself on the offense, because once I was, I could be quick enough that he wouldn’t be able to block. The problem, however, was actually getting to that point. 

I continued dodging him, and as I wracked my brain, I suddenly realized that he had begun swinging with a pattern. Naturally, it was quite a bit of work to lift and then bring a sword straight down every time, and so he’d begun to do so with an angle. He’d make two right-slanted swings and then a single left-slanted one.

Having processed this, I prepared for what he was going to do and then moved to the opposite side and brought my sword down on top of his, making him fumble just a bit. Finally, I managed to swing my sword before he did, and he was desperately lifting his sword to try and block me. 

This continued for a bit, and I was simply so fast that he did not have an opportunity to counter my speed with his strength. He was also growing tired, and it was extremely obvious. Unfortunately, so was I, and it did not serve me well when a stray horse ran right by us and made me falter as I began to swing. 

Of course, the man took this opportunity to dodge my advance and ram the handle of his sword into my back when I kept moving forward. I cursed out, feeling the intensity of his blow in my chest as I hit the ground. My sword had also flown from my hands, and my eyes went wide at this realization. 

Nothing felt broken, thankfully, and so I turned onto my back in the hopes of getting off the ground or at the very least being able to roll away from the man's sword. However, when I did turn around it was not his sword that I was met with. Instead, his hand reached out toward me and gripped the neck of my armor. 

He pulled me up, and I frantically felt around my armor for my dagger. I managed to grab the handle of it, but he was so insanely strong that he lifted me into the air and let me dangle in front of him. He began to chuckle at the sight.

“There you are, finally still. My, you’re a pretty one. Now that you aren’t swinging your fucking sword at me, anyways… perhaps I ought to make you pay for that, hm? What do you think? I’ll pin you down in the dirt right now, and then once I’m done with you I’ll gut you for being such an annoying bitch. How does that sound?” he threatened, flashing his teeth at me and continuing to laugh. His insinuations made a cold fear rush through my body, and the shaking in my hands was genuine. My only consolation, or rather my only form of hope, was the dagger underneath my armor. It was still concealed, but I was more than ready to pull it out. All I needed was for him to do something stupid and give me an opportunity to strike.

“I think it sounds fucking pathetic, you disgusting cunt. It’s also not going to happen- you’d have better luck raping my fucking corpse,” I choked out, spitting directly into his face and watching the anger spark in his eyes once more. 

“Then maybe I will!”

He began lifting his sword with his free hand, and I wasted no time pulling out my dagger and shoving it directly into the unarmored space around his crotch. My dagger was thankfully long and sharp enough that it made it through the rest of his clothes, and I heard him scream in a way that I’d never heard before, nor ever would hear again. 

Unfortunately, I also experienced quite a lot of agony as his sword cut clean through my armor and sliced down the left side of my torso. His sword had already been at my side when I’d mutilated him, and so when the pain had triggered his survival instincts this had been the result. 

I screamed out as I fell to the ground, clutching at my side. I could already feel blood seeping out of the wound, which was rather deep and ran, at a slant, from just below my armpit to the backside of my hip. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, but at the very least it wasn’t nearly as bad as what the man in front of me was feeling. 

He had fallen to his knees, and was bent over as though he were worshiping a god—perhaps the lord of light. Either way, he was sobbing with pain, and when he mustered enough strength to lift his upper half up a bit, I watched with a sick satisfaction. He certainly wouldn’t be capable of raping me now. 

Of course, the pain that I was experiencing made this a much more bitter moment than I had hoped it would be, especially when the man set his eyes on me with a distinct fury and began reaching for his dropped sword. Oh fuck.

I clasped at my side in an attempt to suppress either the pain or the bleeding, for I knew both was too much to ask for, and tried my very hardest to scoot backwards. I was unable to stand in this condition—or not on my own, anyways. 

As my legs desperately kicked at the dirt and tried to propel me backward, I observed with fear as the giant before me yelled out in pain and slowly stood up. It took him a while to properly get his footing, and his jaw was clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth did not fall out. Tears were streaming down his face, but sheer anger made him determined to kill me.

When he began to stagger toward me, I found myself wondering what kind of sick joke the gods were playing on me. I hoped they were laughing, at the very least, because I certainly was not. All I could do was sob out as I dug my heels and elbow into the earth in a desperate attempt to escape death. 

It was of little use, however. His painful staggering was just a bit quicker than my pathetic crawling, and as he came closer and tightened his grip on his sword, I prayed that my death would be quick and clean. I found Loras and Margaery on my mind, and I suddenly felt horrible for leaving them, especially so soon after Renly’s passing. I thought of my parents for a moment, and as the man before me started to lift his sword, my grandmother was the only one on my mind. I wished I had said a proper goodbye before we’d left Highgarden.

The giant man’s blade was high in the air, though it took him quite a lot of strength to get it there. I expected—and was prepared for—it to come down with a sloppy, painful ‘thwack’, but instead only heard the slicing of metal into skin and felt the warmth of blood splattering on my face. 

My eyes shut instinctively, and they only opened once I heard the thumping of a fallen body. When I did look around, I found the Baratheon soldier laying face down in the dirt beside me, blood spewing from a giant hole in his head. My eyes widened with some shock, and I instantly lifted my eyes to see who was responsible for saving me.

There, atop his pretty white horse, I found Tywin Lannister. 

For just a moment, my shock had made my pain go away, but it did not take long to return. Lord Tywin had of course understood that I was injured, and instantly threw his leg over his horse to dismount. As he did, I realized that the man’s valyrian steel sword had dropped beside me with him, and I mustered all the strength in my body as I grabbed at it and pushed it into my sword belt. 

It had timed out perfectly, for once I had finished doing that, I felt the Old Lion’s armored hands at my shoulders. My head began to spin as I looked up at him, for he was kneeling beside me and checking to see where my injury was. He quickly spotted the blood seeping from the wound, and for just a moment there was an odd look in his eyes. He was perhaps wondering whether or not I would make it.

“Lady (Y/N), look at me. Look at me… I need to get you to a healer, do you understand? I don’t wish to take you on horseback, because if my horse falls from under us and we are both injured, you will die. Do you think- are you still well enough to hold onto me? I need one hand for my sword,” he questioned, simultaneously explaining our situation. If not for my serious blood loss, I probably would’ve formulated some snarky response, but alas all I could do was nod. Because even in this state, he was right. To go on horseback was certainly quite the risk. Although, debatably so was him, dressed in his quite obvious Lannister armor, deciding to carry me across the field. All I could do was pray that enough of Stannis’ men had retreated or were being dealt with by the rest of the vanguard. 

In a haze, I felt Lord Tywin placing his hand under my back and helping me to sit up. I cried out rather loudly as he did, for it sent an unbearable pain through my side, and for a moment I thought I might pass out.

I did not, however, and instead realized that Lord Tywin was wrapping his arm around my upper torso and trying his very hardest not to add to my pain. After a few moments, he whispered a subtle ‘shhh,’ in my ear in an uncomfortable attempt to soothe my pain. None of this fully registered in my brain, however. All I could think about was wanting the pain to stop. 

It did not do so, however. In fact, it only got worse as Lord Tywin began to stand up and lifted me with him. I yelled out, and I may have cursed him, but it couldn’t have been any worse than things I’d said in full consciousness. 

“Lady (Y/N), I need you to wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed, huffing out with exertion. I could see the sweat on his forehead, and noticed that there was surprisingly also blood there, though it appeared to be someone else's. It seemed the Lord of Casterly Rock himself had genuinely joined in on the fighting for once. It’s funny, the things you notice when rapidly losing blood.

 As we began to move across the field, Lord Tywin’s grip on me was firm. He was holding me against his chest, and my cheek was pressed against the top of his red sash. I was trying my very hardest to hold onto him, but had he not been holding onto me so fiercely I most assuredly would’ve fallen straight into the dirt. There was an utter determination in him, as though getting me to a healer was the single most important thing he would ever do. 

I started to wonder if it would make a difference, however, because I was still bleeding immensely and forming coherent thoughts was becoming harder and harder. When Lord Tywin was forced to plunge his sword into a charging man, pain rippled through me once again and made me even more certain of the fact that I could not continue. 

“Lord Tywin… Lord Ty-Tywin… let me die…” I rasped out, tears falling from my eyes and onto his sash. I could see the dark spot they left behind, for the moonlight was especially bright. My throat began to feel dry. Surely I would not last much longer.

“No, I will not. You will grow strong, Lady (Y/N). Think of your house words,” he replied, voice harsh and demanding as he pushed his sword into yet another man. It was an order, not a request, and yet I did not feel that I could follow it. 

“I’m so tired, my lord… I can’t… I can’t…” I cried softly, burying my face into his neck now. There was a warmth there, and for a moment I felt like a small child clinging to my mother. It was comforting, and I considered that perhaps death was supposed to feel this way. Like becoming a child again, like returning to the safety of your parents arms. Perhaps that was why so many called out for their mothers in their final moments.

“You can, my lady. You can and you must. You… are not allowed to die,” he encouraged, interrupting himself for a moment as he adjusted his grip and lifted me up ever so slightly. We moved faster through the men around us now, and I felt as though my arms were going entirely limp. I took his advice for once, trying to repeat my house words to myself so I would not give up entirely.

Grow strong.

Grow strong.

Grow…

Strong…

I passed out, and would come back in small bits to discover I was still alive, and to discover that Lord Tywin was continuing to carry me. I would cry out every time I did wake, for the pain would return full force, but the man carrying me would not react to even this. He went on with his task as though I was still unconscious, for it did not matter to him. He had no time to focus on such things, I assumed. 

Eventually, I felt myself being placed down. I had finally been handed over to a healer, and very hazily I heard Lord Tywin—rather harshly, in my opinion—mentioning something along the lines of ‘attend to her first’. After that, the waking up in small spurts stopped happening entirely. The next time I fully woke up, it would be somewhere inside the Red Keep, alive only because of the man I hated more than anybody else in all seven kingdoms.

—————

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #asoiaf #house lannister #lannisters #a lion in the garden

[oddball-artz]

I am gonna flood your inbox, just warning you now 🤗

So, you want questions? I'll give some to ya.

1. How tall is Dalia?

2. If she was granted anything she could want, what would she want?

3. Any family? If so, who's she closer too?

4. How does she feel about colorguard? Is she good at it?

5. If she was friends with one of my own oc's? Who, and why would she be friends with them?

6. Lastly, if she was dared to eat dirt for 20$ would she?

Sorry for all the questions! I wanna know more abt her, and squeeze her like she's one of my blorbos.

Here we go, in order! :]

1, Dalia is 5'6, and she's also 15 and weighs around 160 pounds just to cover bases

2, if she could have anything, it would probably be peace of mind. She's usually worried about something or someone, and she puts her concerns about and need to protect those close to her above her own needs. She wants a way to just shut out her thoughts and have the peace her epithet can provide to others, but if she tries to use her epithet on herself it doesn't work, so she's constantly seeking out ways to get that peace, but her thoughts never go away, she can push them to the back of her mind but they're always there and she wishes they weren't. (Lowkey needs therapy tbh)

3, alr family wise she has a pretty big family(so many cousins but I'll make a tree later, I promise) but for immediate family she has 2 siblings, both younger. The middle kid is Esme, and she's 9, and she's pretty close with Dalia (even though some days she makes her wanna rip her own hair out bc omfg does this kid not listen). The youngest is named Jasper, he's 8, and he's sweet, but that doesn't mean he doesn't cause trouble, it's just that when he just does it's more sneakily than when Esme does it. When they play together, it's just basically this (https://youtube.com/shorts/7EVy_Bh6lNk?si=qKcONC0YZzcMUH2b sorry idk how else to link it) Dalia regularly walks in on them being like this and is used to it at this point. Her mom is pretty distant and is constantly working, and Dalia wishes she was around more. Her mom(named Avery) also just kinda pins her siblings onto Dalia whenever her dad isn't home. Her dad(named Carter) is a stay at home dad who's trying his best. He's got a lot going on, but despite it all, he's pretty close with Dalia. They have the same sense of humor, so if you put them in a room together, they constantly crack jokes at each other. He was on drumline when he was her age, and that's part of the reason she joined guard bc she wanted to be involved with the marching band like her dad. She looks up to him a lot.

4, she likes colorguard a lot, but there was definitely a learning curve. If you saw her at her first performance compared to her latest, you wouldn't think it's the same person. She gets super nervous before performances tho (she cried because of her nerves before her first real performance) but the more performances and practice she got under her belt the better her nerves have gotten(she still gets a little panicky before big shows and parades, but nothing compared to how it used to be)

5, Prolly Sabrina, i feel her idgaf energy would ground Dalia in a way(I have a lot of friends with that energy and idk why but it grounds me, so now figuring out why is Dalia's problem lmao) They also have similar music taste(Dalia playlist coming soon) If they were friends they'd totally send eachother fanfic for fandoms they're both in at ungodly hours of the night lmao

6, short answer, no (but if you push, yes.) Long answer no, and not because she's above eating dirt for cash but because she knows she'll probably get made fun of if she does. She folds to peer pressure pretty easy tho (people pleaser) and could probably be convinced to if you pushed her about it.

(Sorry this took so long to make lmao, and tysm for asking questions about her. Sorry if this is kinda bad. I'm a better artist than I am a writer)

#epithet erased oc #ee oc #Dalia Kalmeren (oc) #answered ask #idk what else to put in the tags

[bluejaysandblackbats]

K and/or A from the prompt ask game with preferably Batman and Red Hood where all B can think about is to protect his baby successful this time at the very least.

Why do I suddenly need some angst between those two born from character death?

A– Always, always there

K– One has to kill the other.

Crimson gloss glinted over his white teeth under the dim, flickering fluorescent lights. Metallic and combined with the rich, heavy taste of beef. Well-done. He could even taste the char in his back teeth. Before he could come to his senses, someone hit Jason with a metal pipe so hard it rebounded once it slammed into his temple. He let his head drop between his shoulders, and a voice cried out, begging the assailant to stop. Someone had gone to drastic lengths to recreate this moment. Whoever did this wanted to bastardize Jason’s trauma. 

Still, Jason couldn’t see, feel, or care about any of it. He couldn’t distinguish that moment from the past. It all existed at once. Survival instinct left him. His body went cold and numb as his ears rang. He endured strikes against his back, arms, hips, and stomach. His hands and feet were bound the same as that day in the warehouse. The only difference was he didn’t scream. He didn’t beg for his mother or Bruce. He would’ve focused on the smell of cigarette smoke, but his nose was the first thing they broke. “For fuck’s sake! Let him go!” the voice yelled. Jason perked up. He raised his head as far as it would go, blood dripping from all over as he tried to find the source. Jason could only hear the man’s faint cries. The lids of his eyes were heavy as he forced them open. 

Jason laughed. It shook both his assailant and the man begging for his release. At first, they could’ve mistaken it for a nervous response, but it built into a lingering chuckle. They battered Jason’s chest to all hell, but his laugh was unmistakable. And it was frightening. Jason laughed until his meal came up his esophagus, through his mouth and nose, splattering onto the ground. It was blood and beef and bread. He frowned at the sensation, kicking himself for not chewing better. It would’ve come up a lot easier that way. Jason spat and coughed until his body gave out. “Don’t touch him! I’ll do it!” the man pleaded. “Don’t touch him again… I’ll do it.” 

Jason listened to the mystery assailant’s footsteps as he left the room. The door shut, and Jason heard an electric deadbolt lock. He felt someone drop beside him, running a hand through his hair, grazing broken skin. Jason laughed and let out a sob. “Listen to me.” The man’s hands ran from Jason’s scalp to his cheeks. Jason’s head dropped. “No. No, don’t do that. Look at me,” the man commanded. Jason opened one eye. “You have got to live… So you can tell her to kill me instead.” 

Jason’s stomach turned. “B?” Jason whispered. It all made sense. Some sick and twisted person wanted to right the wrong. “It’s gotta end… the way it did… It’s gotta end the same.” 

“No, you’re my son, and you’ve gotta save yourself. If you tell them to kill me instead, they’ll let you go-.” 

“And if I don’t?” Jason asked. He let his head droop once more. 

“They’ll kill you in front of me-.” 

“But you could leave… I want you-.”

“Why can’t you listen to me?” Bruce questioned.

“Because I’ve done this before!” Jason yelled. Jason took a breath. “I couldn’t save my moms. I can help you. You’ve gotta live.”

Bruce tried to hold Jason’s face up, his hands slipping on the blood that covered Jason’s face. “No-.” 

Jason used the best of his strength to step over his cuffs, and he leaned backward. Bruce scooted behind Jason quickly, holding onto him. “I love you,” Jason mumbled, “You don’t have a choice. If you love me, you’ll walk away from all this.” Bruce couldn’t figure it out. After all that they’d been through, Jason still loved him. 

Bruce fought with Jason to get him to change his mind, but Jason stubbornly refused. “Please-.” 

“I don’t fit. I never made sense to your family, and that’s okay,” Jason whispered, “I don’t want to… All I ever wanted was you. Maybe what I got as a kid was it. There’s no space for me anymore.” Bruce tried to lift Jason’s face. 

“That isn’t-. That isn’t true,” Bruce whispered, “There isn’t a lot of time. Jason, please.” Jason nodded drowsily, no longer able to lift his head. 

Jason’s assailant returned, and Bruce held tight to Jason. “Please do the right thing, Jason,” Bruce whispered. Jason nodded. 

“Let my dad go,” Jason mumbled, “Take me instead… Let him go.” Two men came into the room and dragged Bruce out in his costume. He screamed and kicked and pleaded with Jason to do the right thing. “I’m always-. Always there. Right there.” Jason endured another beating and finally fell asleep to the sound of ticking. He never felt the blast. Never even heard it.

#nandi answers #jason todd #bruce wayne #batfam #red hood jason todd #i combined the prompts #angst answer #major character death #genre: angst #i just woke up from an accidental two hour nap #prompt

[into-the-daniverse]

Without You Without Them | Alec’s Prologue | Part 5

In which, Alec discovers something from her past, meets with the courtiers, one of whom seems to know more about her than they let on, and is finally able to recount her adventure over the last few days to Asra.

Previous Part

Title: Without You Without Them by boygenius 5.3k words

Much to her dismay and increasing annoyance, Alec had been right in thinking that something—or someone, in this case—would be waiting for her in the city the next day, as she opened her shop door to none other than Julian Devorak, who looked like he hadn’t been planning on getting caught by her again. For a moment, Alec’s mind went back to the information they had received the day before, definitive proof that they had known each other before she lost her memories. A hundred questions about what that woman had said whirled through her mind, but she forced them all down to focus on the issue at hand.

Planting herself firmly in front of the door, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Julian, I know I lock every door of this shop three times before I leave, and I know there’s also a protection spell over the whole thing. How do you keep getting in?”

“Ah, well, that’s simple, really.” Julian straightened himself, though not without a nervous cough. “I, uh, I have a key.”

She raised one dark eyebrow. “A key.”

“Yes!” He fished around in his pockets for a moment before handing it to her. “Here. You can keep it—I don’t need to be using it again.”

“Asra didn’t tell me he gave a key for our shop to a suspected murderer.”

“Well, we did cover the fact that there’s a lot that wit—magician doesn’t tell people, didn’t we?”

“There’s a lot you’re not telling me either—you managed to weasel your way out of telling me anything worthwhile yesterday because of the guards, but I will not let that happen again today—"

“Don’t you think it’s unwise to be caught with me standing outside your shop in broad daylight?” Julian shook his head. “You should probably just let me go.”

Alec didn’t budge. “How do I know you haven’t stolen anything? You’ve broken in twice now.”

“You would take me for a thief?” Julian gasped dramatically, draping himself against the door frame. “A murderer I may be, but a thief? Never.” When Alec didn’t answer save for arching her eyebrow higher, he sighed, taking off his coat. “Fine. Search me then, if it will satisfy your curiosity.”

She rolled her eyes and stomped one foot on the ground, anklets chiming as she stirred up a small whirlwind which enveloped the doctor, effectively turning his pockets inside-out and ensuring that he wasn’t hiding anything she couldn’t see. Julian yelped as the wind grew around him, and the moment it died, he stared wide-eyed at Alec. His hair was even more wild than it had been before, and she bit back a laugh as she smoothed her own skirt back down.

“Okay, I’m satisfied.” Alec reached out to do the clasp on his coat around his neck again, patting his chest once before stepping back, down the stairs. “But gods help me, Julian, if you find a way to break into this shop again, I—"

She noticed he was still staring wide-eyed at something past her and stopped, turning around with dread in her chest. But what happened next surprised her more than anything she could have thought of.

Watching Portia pull Julian after her, both of them nearly in tears, made something twist in Alec’s chest. She was jealous of them, though she knew she shouldn’t be. She had no intention of telling the Countess about what she had seen, but she did want to talk to Portia about it, at some point. About the feeling of finding your family after so long without them.

Deep in her musings, she almost stepped on a small leather pouch as she went into the shop, but stopped at the last second and picked it up. It smelled strongly of myrrh, a protection spell. The smell jogged something in her mind, but she couldn’t grab onto the thread quickly enough before it was gone.

With a sigh, she tucked the pouch into the folds of her skirt, another outfit gifted by the Countess. The first thing she did upon entering the shop was to go right up to her room and grab a couple of dupattas, one to wrap around her face for when she went to the square again, and another to take back the jar of swordfish spices she had mentioned to the Countess.

Walking into the kitchen, she rummaged around the cabinets, pushing past dozens of jars with brightly colored spices, humming to herself as she searched for the specific mixture she wanted. It was a bit buried, not something either her or Asra frequently used, but it was there, and she pulled it down to wrap in the dupatta when the writing on the jar caught her eye.

The words read, in Prakran, Dia’s Spiced Swordfish. As in, it was made specifically for someone named Dia—or, could it be for Nadia, the Countess, herself? She had thought it odd to have such a particular seasoning in her shop, but who could have left it here?

Alec’s mind went back to the first night the Countess had shown up at her shop. Between pangs of her headache, the Countess had remarked that the handwriting on some of the music lying about the back room looked like it belonged to her cousin. And the handwriting on the jar—

Almost dropping the jar in her haste, Alec ran into the back room of the shop, and leafed through the sheet music still out and disorganized until she found a piece that looked familiar. It was a piece she loved to play, but she knew she hadn’t written it, based on the handwriting. Neat, elegant, looping handwriting that matched what was on the jar.

Fighting through the beginnings of a headache, Alec struggled to make sense of the information in front of her. The Countess had thought that the handwriting was that of her cousin’s. She said that it was unlikely, as she would have known he was in Vesuvia. But the jar of spices—it was labelled for her. And the same person who had written the music, had left the spices in the shop, long before Alec could remember.

She couldn’t remember, but someone else could.

Turning down the hallway to the kitchen, she called out softly, “Missy?” A warm hum filled her mind, and she opened the stove with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

The shop’s stove salamander blinked their big dark eyes at her, a gentle smile on their face. What is it, child?

“I have a question, well, a few. About something from… the past?”

I will answer what I can, without endangering you.

Scooping the salamander from the ashes in the stove, Alec carried them to the back room, where she had left the music and the jar. She set them down on the table and watched as they slowly crawled over to the items. “Did the same person who wrote that music make that spice mixture?”

Yes.

“Were… are they related to the Countess?”

Missy paused, blinking at Alec. Yes, they are.

Her headache grew stronger as she pushed forward, questions spilling from her lips. “Why are these things here? Did I know them? Did Asra know them?”

The salamander put their little front foot on her hand, glowing a soothing blue that washed calm over Alec. Yes, you both knew them. Him. And he lived here.

“What…” Alec took a deep breath. “What was—is his name?”

There was a silence in her mind, and then a soft: I can’t tell you that.

Alec wanted to cry, either from pain or from frustration or both. Missy’s body glowed again, taking a little bit of the pain away, but she wasn’t done. She had just one more question, she just wanted to know one more thing… “Who was he to me?”

Crawling slowly up her arm, dark eyes never leaving hers, Missy’s voice appeared in her mind again with one word.

Family.

Alec closed her eyes, exhaling as she felt Missy’s magic wash over her to soothe her headache, but a familiar voice made her eyes fly open.

“You’re a part of our family now, kid.”

The shop was empty. There was no one around her who could have spoken, but she knew she heard the voice. And she knew she knew the voice. Worrying her bottom lip, she looked around the room, sheet music scattered around her. She took the music written by the Countess’s cousin—no, someone from her family—and folded it gently, tucking it inside her shirt, by her heart. She closed her eyes again and thought back to her dream from the day before.

She had a family. Or, at the very least, she had one person out there waiting for her. Maybe two, since the person in her dream didn’t seem like the same person who wrote the sheet music. Maybe she even made music with the person who wrote it. Maybe he would be able to help her find her voice again. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she sniffled quietly, still feeling Missy’s magic around her.

“I wish he was here.”

I know, little one. I know.

Keeping her eyes closed, Alec drifted into a shallow sleep, just until she heard a distant clock tolling the hour, reminding her of Portia’s announcement in the square. She jumped up, almost flinging Missy in the process. Kissing the salamander apologetically on their head, she set them back in their stove before racing out of the shop. She had to turn back around to grab the swordfish spices, and then almost forgot to lock the shop up three times, so by the time she reached the square, she was completely frazzled.

She ducked into the shadows to fix her dupatta, wrapping it almost too tightly around her face, listening to Portia’s loud, chipper voice calling out to the people gathered in the square, informing them about the Masquerade. The energetic hum of the crowd only intensified the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she shrunk even further back. Her hands fell to her pockets instinctively, and she felt her fingers brush the pouch of myrrh she had tucked away.

Then, the smell of myrrh came from behind her, stronger than before, and when she glanced over her shoulder, there was a large figure cloaked in even deeper shadows, and they started to disappear down a different alley, away from the square.

She felt something stir in her mind, and remembered the scent of myrrh clinging to her clothes as she left the shop the day after Asra left. She hadn’t seen anyone, and maybe it had just been a normal memory lapse, but her head wasn’t hurting. Which told her… maybe this was someone she knew, someone she remembered. Setting her jaw, she quickly followed after the figure’s lumbering pace, determined to not lose another potential memory just yet. Once she reached the figure, she skidded to a stop in front of them, and they took a stumbling step backward, clearly caught off guard. She ignored their reaction and furrowed her eyebrows, voice accusing. “How did you do that?”

The figure blinked stormy green eyes at her from under their hood. “…What?” Their voice rumbled low, and it made Alec feel like she was supposed to be frightened of them, but she wasn’t.

“You made me forget you—you were at the shop the other day, but I didn’t remember you. How did you do that?”

They frowned. “You… no. That’s impossible.” The last part felt like it was directed more at themself than her, but she pushed forward.

“What is?”

Mouth open slightly, they gaped at her for a moment before shaking their head roughly and turning from her. “Go away.”

Wasn’t this someone she knew before? Why weren’t they trying to make her remember? “No!” Her voice sounded desperate, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. “Please, who are you?” The figure started walking away again, faster this time, and she struggled to keep up through the twists and turns of the roads. “Wait, please! Did Asra send you?”

Finally, the figure stopped, but they didn’t turn to look at her. “…yes.”

“Is he… are you friends?”

The figure nodded ever so slightly. “He’s… my only friend.”

“Mine too,” she murmured. “He must trust you, a lot.”

They were silent, but it felt like they wanted to say something else. Before they could, a warning was called, and Alec just managed to side-step a rogue cart, the owner racing down the street after it. When she looked back, the figure was gone, and her frustration quickly changed into confusion, and then an empty resignation. She didn’t remember why she had left the marketplace, but maybe that was for the better. She glanced over her shoulder before sighing and making her way back to the square to meet up with Portia.

****

“…lec, Alec?”

She blinked, looking up from her lap. They were both on the wagon back to the palace, and Portia was watching her with a nervous, concerned look.

“Are you alright? Any… incidents back at the shop?”

Alec stared at her for a moment before remembering Julian’s appearance. It felt like days ago that he had been breaking into her shop, again, and Portia dragged him away. She shook her head. “Um, no. Everything’s fine. I…” She pulled out the jar of swordfish spice, holding it out to Portia. “I found the spice for the Countess.”

“Oh, great!” Portia lit up. “She’ll be happy to hear that, I’m sure.”

Nodding distantly, Alec glanced out of the window, watching the crowds thin the further they got from the marketplace. Portia cleared her throat, and Alec jumped a little. “Sorry.”

Portia laughed gently. “It’s alright. I just wanted to see if you’d like me to go over the courtiers with you before you met them.”

Oh, right. Alec nodded again, but leaned closer to Portia, giving her her full attention.

By the time they reached the palace, Portia had explained the courtiers to Alec, their names, their positions, and the general public opinion surrounding them—which was largely negative.

“Really, you only have to pay attention to Valerius. Milady minds him the most, though—” she looked around the wagon as if there was someone else with them, eyes glinting mischievously. “Mira told me she has some dirt on him. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Alec giggled, a bit of anxiety dislodging from her chest. “Of course not.”

Walking to the salon, Alec thought she might wring her hands into knots. Portia had encouraged her to pull her dupatta away from her face, and she felt exposed, as if she was naked. Clutching the folds of her skirt in her fingers, she bit the inside of her cheek as Portia opened the doors of the salon and led her inside.

The soft music she heard floating down the hallway reached a crescendo as she stepped past the door, and she saw the Countess sitting behind a gleaming pipe organ, ignoring the chattering of the voice around her, room hazy with smoke. She looked up as Alec entered, fingers playing deftly across the keys, giving her a warm smile.

“Portia, introduce our guest.”

The sun starts to set, orange and pink light filtering into the salon as Portia began to introduce Alec.

She tried her best to stand still, but she couldn’t keep her hands from fidgeting at her sides, and shifting on her feet. Quickly, she scanned through the other people in the room, going over what Portia had told her, trying to identify them as best as she could. There was Procurator Volta, who was as restless as Alec felt, small fingers flitting between teacakes at lightning-fast speeds. Then Praetor Vlastomil, who reminded Alec of a worm left too long in the sun, wringing his hands as if they were jointless. Pontifex Vulgora, whose laugh had boomed off the walls when she entered, and who was giving her an unsettling, but not completely unkind grin. Then there was Quaestor Valdemar, who Alec couldn’t look at for very long without feeling a deeply unsettling chill down her spine.

Finally, her eyes caught on the Consul, and for a moment, he looked like someone else, and a great flash of pain rushed through her head. Blinking through the pain, she watched the faded blond ends of his hair change to black and back to blond again, grey-gold eyes to black and back, and the way the sun dappled across his skin looked like patterns of familiar scars.

She shook her head, and whoever the other person she had seen was gone, and only the Consul remained. But even just he was familiar. Alec knew him. She knew she knew him somehow, and judging from the way his whole body seemed to freeze in place for a moment as they locked eyes, with even his sip of wine caught on his lips, she knew he knew her too.

But before she could even think of a question to ask, the other courtiers were welcoming her, eagerly tugging at her wrists to pull her into a seat with them. She settled between the Procurator and the Pontifex, nervously trying to sink into the couch cushions as they pressed against her. As they began to question her about how the announcement went, she felt her cheeks warm, but thankfully the Countess stepped in to direct their questions.

However, when the Consul spoke, the room quieted in an uncomfortable way. Alec wasn’t sure to make of the way he was staring at her, down his nose, swirling his wine glass in his hand. He knew her, she was sure of it. From before. But he hadn’t said anything to the Countess, or, presumably, the rest of the court. All she knew now, as he circled the couch like a bird of prey, was that he didn’t like her.

“…or perhaps the witch might tell us herself.”

And she decidedly didn’t like him very much either. She bristled, eyes narrowing. “Perhaps…” she said, through gritted teeth, “don’t call me that.”

His lip curled slightly. “I misspoke. You are but an apprentice, after all.” His grey-gold eyes narrowed at her, and she narrowed her eyes right back. She could feel something impulsive biting at her tongue, but luckily the Countess stepped in, shooting the Consul a pointed look.

“If you all wanted so badly to know how that night transpired, you might have simply asked.” She shook her hair over her shoulder, fingers still dancing lightly over the piano keys as she spoke. Alec felt herself relax a little as the Countess explained the way they met, but her gaze never completely left the Consul.

He took another sip of his wine, lips pulled into a dissatisfied thin line. When the Countess paused, addressing Alec, he spoke instead, words veiled behind a sneer. “With respect, Countess, you must remember that we, your adoring court, are ever at your side. I would have thought you’d approach us with these concerns instead of resorting to consulting a common apprentice.”

Alec heard enough from him, and she stood up suddenly, ready to fight a member of the court in front of the Countess herself when she felt something hit her. She wasn’t sure if she had knocked the glass out of his hand, or if he took advantage of her movement, but either way, she was wearing the rest of his wine, feeling it drip down her chest.

The rest of the court gasped in shock, and the Countess was quick to tell them all to leave, but Alec held her stare with the Consul amongst the chaos. Now standing, she realized that he was taller than her, but only by the heels of his shoes, and that made her feel a little bit better about the wine. That, plus the fact that he looked shocked for one beat, and then his face changed.

He almost looked scared. Nervous, maybe. Then he followed the rest of the courtiers quickly, slamming the door shut behind them.

Once they were gone, Alec’s shoulders sagged, and she looked down at the ruined outfit. The Countess and Portia both approached her, the former resting her hand gently on Alec’s shoulder.

“I am sorry, Alec.” She sighed, irritated. “I do not know what came over him, but trust, I will have a word with him later.”

Alec couldn’t even look at her, feeling frustrated tears starting to well up. “These clothes… I’m sorry. They’re ruined.”

“What?” The Countess looked her up and down. “Oh, of course, but do not apologize. I hardly blame you for reacting as you did to his pettiness. We’ll fetch you something else to wear immediately.” Alec felt her gaze, and kept her eyes down, cheeks starting to burn in embarrassment. The Countess hesitated, squeezing Alec’s shoulder. “But I have taken enough liberties with your wardrobe. So please, do not hesitate. Tell me what you would like. Anything, no expense spared.”

Swallowing back her tears, Alec glanced up at the Countess, at the kind, sincere expression on her face. “Um… I’d just like to have my clothes back, please. From before.”

“I figured that’s what you’d say.” Portia’s voice from her side made Alec turn her head. The woman was giving her a similarly kind look, and looped her arm with Alec’s. Alec nodded, her lips curving up slightly.

The Countess laughed lightly, her hand leaving Alec’s shoulder. “Very well. Your comfort here is of great importance to me. Portia will escort you to your chambers. You will be bathed, and your own garments returned. I believe you will find them much as you left them.” Alec started to pull away, but the Countess continued. “Though, Alec… You are my guest of honor. You could be more selfish, if you like.”

Alec blushed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You’re too kind to me, Countess. Thank you.”

She gave the Countess a small but grateful wave as Portia led her back to the guest wing. Once she bathed and returned to her room, she thought she would pass out immediately from the stress of the day. Before she could make it to her bed, however, her eyes caught on a parcel waiting by the window. Slowly, she unraveled the note on top of the package, and read the note from the Countess, her cheeks warming.

A gift for my dear guest, this emerald which seemed to call your name. Wear it in good health. And Alec, you may call me Nadia.

The emerald was stunning, and she absentmindedly played with the chain between her fingers, wondering exactly what kind of person the Countess—no, Nadia, was, that she’d give Alec such a fine piece of jewelry after having known her for only a few days. As she wondered, she noticed a trace of familiar magic coming from the emerald. It felt like Asra’s magic. She paused, focusing on his magic, tracing the stone with her fingertips. Maybe she could find him, somehow. Like she found Julian.

She waited for night to fall, and snuck down the hallways of the palace. She wasn’t entirely sure why she felt the need to be secretive, but it was better that she didn’t run into anyone anyway, not wanting to explain her late-night stroll. Her hair blew softly around her face in the night breeze, still a little damp from the bath, as she walked through the gardens, looking for something and nothing at the same time.

The sound of water drew her in, and she entered a clearing with a beautiful fountain. Above it stood a willow tree, and Alec’s heart leapt happily in her chest when she recognized a familiar snake draped among the branches.

“Faust!” She ran over to the fountain, stopping right under the snake with her arms outstretched. “Didn’t you go with Asra? What are you doing here?”

Faust dropped from the branches, landing in Alec’s arms, and wound herself around her shoulders, tongue tickling her cheek. Friend!

“Yes, baby. I’m so glad to see you.” Alec giggled as the snake tickled her, and sat down on the edge of the fountain, watching her wind down her arm, tongue flicking. “You have no idea how happy I am to have you here.”

She sighed, holding out the emerald necklace. Maybe Faust was the closest to Asra that she was going to get. Once she held it up however, Faust seemed to light up, investigating the necklace curiously. Alec glanced over at the fountain. Something about the water was pulling her still, and she hesitantly held the necklace over the water. When nothing happened, she let it fall, sending big ripples across the surface.

The water distorted and changed color, until even her reflection disappeared, and in its place was Asra staring back at her, a shocked look on his face. “Allie!”

“As!” She immediately leaned closer to the water, and he did too, their faces inches apart on opposite sides of the water. “How did I—or did you—?”

He laughed; a bright happy laugh that made her feel warm. “I had nothing to do with this!”

“Oh really?” She held Faust up, who waved her tail at Asra. “How did she get here then?”

His eyes lit up, and he grinned. “Good! Looks like she found you all right.” When Alec raised an eyebrow, he continued. “I wasn’t all that sure about leaving her, but after that reading you gave me… I thought I’d trust my intuition.”

“And what exactly did your intuition say?”

“That you needed her more than I did this time.”

She sighed, deep and exhausted. “Oh, you have no idea how much I needed her.”

“You know, for once I don’t think I do.” He peered over her shoulder as much as he could, eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you at the palace? You left the shop—the marketplace, even?”

“I did!” Alec grinned, immediately launching into her own colorful retelling of the events of the past few days. Asra’s reactions ranged from intrigued, to shocked, to horrified, to annoyed, to stunned as she explained how she had ended up at the palace.

When she got to the part about the Consul, Asra almost choked with laughter. “Oh, I know someone who’ll be furious with him for that.” He said it absentmindedly, as if he didn’t even realize he had.

Alec almost asked him who he was talking about, before she stilled, remembering one more thing. “As, I had a dream.” She paused, eyebrows knitting together. “Actually, they said I visited their dream. Anyway, I met someone. From my memories.”

“You did?” Asra suddenly became serious and sat up straighter, studying her face as she spoke. “What do you remember? Who was it?”

“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “They never said their name, and they wouldn’t let me see their face. But when they held me—I knew them. They had scars all over their arms that I remembered. I woke up and I remembered that I saw them, and what they told me. And then I thought I saw someone with similar scars walking through the gardens last night.” A drop of water landed on the back of her hand, and she realized she was crying.

“Alec—”

“They said they missed me, that they loved me.” Her voice broke. “They promised to come for me.” She wiped at her eyes in frustration, trying to hold onto her memory as tightly as possible. “They even—Asra, they said you love me. I don’t think it was really a dream, I think I really visited them—whoever they are���but I’m not sure. I just want it to be true. Please tell me that all of that was true.”

He was quiet for a moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and she watched his face, tears continuing to fall. When he spoke, it was slow, calculated, but still nervous. “If… if you’re starting to remember… and it’s not hurting you… Maybe it is time I tell you the truth.”

The water started to churn, and Alec sat back, watching with her eyes wide and mouth open as the water took the shape of Asra, right in front of her. All she wanted to do was hold him tight to her, but instinctively she knew that if she even touched the water, he would disappear.

“Allie…” Asra exhaled, pressing as close to her as he could, water shimmering in the moonlight. “It was—it istrue. You’re… not a student to me. You never have been. You’re my best friend, Allie, but you’re so much more than that. All my life, you’ve helped me grow, and I’ve learned just as much from you as you from me.”

Even through the water she could tell his eyes were shining with tears, and she choked back a sob, not even daring to speak as he continued.

“The person in your dream… they were right. I do love you. I love you so much, it breaks my heart every time I have to leave you. Because even when we’re apart, all I can think about is you, and how worried I am for you, and how much I want to be with you. And I’m…” His voice broke. “I’m tired of hiding that from you. I want you to know everything, to remember everything about me, about us.”

It almost felt too good to be true. Alec finally understood why Asra stayed with her, chose her, day after day. He loved her. And she remembered, she had to.

“Asra—”

A sharp, shooting pain cut through her mind, and she screamed, clutching at her head. She slumped to the ground, struggling to stay coherent with the intense agony she felt.

“Oh no, no, no, no!” Asra’s begging finally cut through the pain enough for her to hear him. “Allie, please look at me!”

She dragged her gaze up to his panicked, grief-stricken face, and immediately the pain became white-hot, nearly blinding her.

Asra gasped in horror as she cried out again. “O-okay, don’t look at me.” He sounded like he was going to cry, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to ruin the moment with him.

“I’m so sorry… I was reckless, I shouldn’t have tried.” He sounded so far away; why was he so far away? “Alec, I need you to forget.”

Forget? She shook her head, crying from the pain and from the thought of losing another memory. “N-no… No, Asra, please. Please, I don’t want to forget.”

She kept begging with him even as he spoke again, his voice breaking. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Allie.”

He leaned down over her, and she felt his lips on her cheek, cold like ice. Then she felt nothing.

****

A soft voice singing some lullaby she once knew laced her dreams, a pool of dark nothingness that she was floating in, alone. No… she wasn’t alone. Someone was carrying her, cradled to their chest like she was a child. And she felt like one, limbs heavy from a long day, eyes too tired to even try to open them.

What had she just been doing? She stirred, trying to remember.

The singing stopped, but the voice spoke. “Hush, my Sirène. Sleep. You’re alright.”

A part of her wanted her to open her eyes, to wake up, but she ignored it, settling deeper against the person carrying her. Eventually, the pool of nothingness turned into her bedroom in the palace, and the arms holding her turned into the blankets and pillows she nested in. She blinked in the dark room groggily, and when she saw nothing, laid back down, her eyes sliding shut again.

As she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, her mind foggy from the events of the day, the voice that she had heard back at the shop continued, echoing in her mind.

“I promise, we’re always gonna be here.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #daniverse fic #Alec al-saleh #apprentice alec #the arcana julian #Julian devorak #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #the arcana muriel #the arcana portia #portia devorak #the arcana valerius #consul valerius #leon

[phantomato]

What is your approach to writing smut and how has it evolved since you started writing fic?

This is a really good question! Thank you for asking it. 💕

Ok, so, when I started writing fic (nearly three years ago!), I made a rule for myself: I wasn’t allowed to shy away from writing anything that I enjoyed reading. If I read smut, and I read smut, I had to be willing to write it.

The techniques I’ve picked up since then are all in response to making myself face it. If something makes me nervous or embarrassed, I ask myself why. Does it feel too personally revealing? Do I not feel like I have enough information to write it convincingly? Is there some cliche or trope associated with it that I don’t enjoy? Figuring out the root cause of that anxiety helps me decide how to handle it—sometimes something too personal can be satisfied by writing “drawer fic” that I never publish, or by grounding that thing in a character’s personality or a story’s themes, so that it’s got multiple bases for existence. Information can come through more research, and often that weakness means I need to go more slowly with whatever I’m writing. Wanting to avoid cliches or tropes forces me to consider why I dislike them, because perhaps I can like the thing by changing up the standard language, or maybe I can divorce two elements that are assumed to go together and find a version that I really love. Some examples:

A Sense of Self in Decline started as an omegaverse AU fic, which is a set of tropes I don’t love when all bundled together—but I really enjoyed an idea I’d seen proposed somewhere about two alphas fucking instead of fighting one another. I wrote the first chapter based on that, then went back and revised everything so that it fit in a setting that I preferred. But the core idea of fuck instead of fight was really hot to me, and I let that inspiration drive the smut writing even though I knew I wouldn’t ultimately want to publish omegaverse AU for reasons of broader trope disagreement.

Changeling initially embarrassed me because it needed to be piss kink, a fairly niche kink often viewed as gross. But it was the correct kink for the job: the cup horcrux, symbolized by the acts of drinking and profane baptism, demanded it. So I spent a lot more time reading and thinking about piss kink in order to feel more comfortable with it as a normal thing, and my breakthrough came because, after priming myself to accept the kink, I found connections to other aspects of the fic. (The Doors—Jim Morrison and public urination—see the title.)

Most of my smut is vanilla sex, for some definition thereof, and not especially fraught in the wider context of fandom smut. I do try to include kink when I can, because I enjoy it, but one final note I’ll make is that part of interrogating my own preferences and interests and comfort as a writer is making peace with the fact that I’m just not into power differences in my sex scenes, and that’s mostly how I see kink manifest. I think that’s why the kink I have written tends towards aspects of the body (clothes, parts, functions, fluids) and notably less in the way of roles, language, and restraint. For me, writing smut is an exercise in asking myself to reinvent the wheel. It’s a space in which I spend a lot of time trying to break the act down into component parts, to build a scene from first principles rather than pre-existing set pieces. New words, new associations, new attempts to describe the actions and parts and emotions of fucking. It’s imperfect. A cock’s a cock. But this helps me to be satisfied with my sex scenes, even if they cover only vanilla acts. At least they feel hot, and novel, to me.

#writing meta #ask game

[angelatmidnight1]

ok so👉👈 i used to do hip hop a couple of years ago, but while i did like that type of dance, i was also very, very shy, and I'd get nervous and a bit anxious whenever we would practice (it was a bit intimidating to have a lot of eyes on me). I would dance so much better if i was alone because I'd loosen up almost immediately. Oddly enough, I was able to loosen up just as much when we were performing on stage, go figure lol!

Anyway, if you're taking reader prompts, i thought it'd be nice if you wrote something like that, it doesn't have to be related to dance necessarily, it could be related to playing an instrument for example, or singing, some activity that the reader is kind of insecure and shy about, but then some legend (I dont know who exactly, maybe one of the girls?) would catch the reader doing said activity and would reassure them when they get all embarrassed and then would maybe tickle them until they promise to loosen up and smile more? i love your writing, thank you in advance!

Hips Don't Lie

You claim that you’re not a dancer, until Lifeline catches you grooving in the kitchen on a Saturday night. You stiffen up, embarrassed, and it’s up to her to get you moving again. 

“Ku deh. Only one squad left.”

Lifeline spoke, pinging the last team in the upper buildings at the Swamps. You turned towards the location and peeked around a large rock. At first, you didn’t see anything. But then…

BANG! 

You yelped. Whatever hit you left a big dent in your shields, and you immediately ducked back down. Pathfinder was quick to hand you a shield battery. 

“Here you go, friend! That sounded like a Kraber. Let’s recharge your shields so you don’t die.” Pathy said. You nodded and fully patched up your shields…only to have him hand you another one right away. You gave him a questioning look, and he responded with a thumbs up. “Go ahead, have another one! I collected plenty from the friends we killed.”

“Oh. Thanks, Path.” You answered, giving him a small smile. You pocketed the shield battery and gently patted his hand. “Nice of you to watch out for me.”

Pathfinder’s monitor displayed a smiley face. “Of course,” he chirped. “Good friends always look out for each other, just like good parents!”

You heard Lifeline sigh heavily. You glanced at her, then back at Pathfinder. “What—”

Pathy  moseyed on over to the medic, tapping the D.O.C. beside her.

“See? This is my son! Lifeline carries him for me, but I always make sure he’s kept safe and ready to help us.” He continued, proudly. He looked down at Ajay and cocked his head to the side. “Do you think I make a good daddy, Lifeline?”

“Yeah yeah, of course yuh do.” Lifeline answered; at this point, she thought it was easier to agree with him then re-hash the truth about D.O.C. “But let’s talk about yuh parentin’ skills later. We need to move to high ground.”

“Leave it to me!” Path lifted his head and scanned the area for a good perch. He pinged the one with the most cover and placed a zipline. Then, he zipped his way up, alternating between holding and letting go to avoid some bullets. “Woohoo! No place to go but up!”

You and Lifeline followed suit. Since Ajay was behind you, you fired some covering fire at the enemy squad to give her an easier time getting up. Ajay moved to thank you, until she saw the barrel of the Kraber pointing at you two and the person behind it: Vantage. She dragged you down onto the floor with her to avoid a hit. The shot narrowly missed.

“Damn, this new girl’s a good shot.” Ajay grunted. She pulled her 30-30 out of its holster and looked at you and Path. She made a ‘stay low’ motion with her hand. “Mind yuh heads, ya hear? We gon’ have to take this fight slow.”

You nodded, taking out your sniper class weapon. Pathy did the same. Then, the three of you took turns trading shots with the enemy squad, careful not to expose yourselves too much. You wanted to engage, but Lifeline was right; the other squad had the advantage, and the ring would decide your next move.

Soon enough, the final ring began closing, and both squads would have to jump down. The ring pushed both squads down within seconds of each other, and the battle was on. It was chaotic; people were knocked, revived, and knocked again. But, channeling that chaos, you laser focused onto Vantage, Ash, and Newcastle, mowing them down with your Spitfire. Then, right before the ring could catch you, you heard…

“We have our Apex Champions!”

You exhaled and put your hands on your knees. All of the lights and cameras turned to your squad. Path wasted no time in celebrating.

“Wow, look at that! We’re the champion squad!” He cheered. He did his Squats emote to flaunt the victory. “Go us!”

Lifeline followed it up with her Fancy Footwork emote. That left you standing in the middle. You faltered, feeling shy all of a sudden. You swore the camera flashes got brighter after every match. And, were there this many people watching last time? You awkwardly smiled and waved, taking a step back behind your team. Pathfinder noticed you first.

“Where’re you going, friend?” He asked, following after you. “You ended the match with the most damage. You should be first in line to dance!”

You chuckled nervously. Lifeline turned to look at you too, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Ah, it’s okay.” You replied with a dismissive wave. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

Ajay stepped forward and affectionately patted your arm. She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Yuh still did great,” she complimented. “Yuh’ve made a lot of progress.”

That was a big compliment coming from your mentor. You thanked her, returning the smile, and resumed giving the cameras your attention. 

But, the truth was, you weren’t honest with your squadmates. You actually loved to dance. But, all of those eyes made you nervous, and you got cold feet. It wasn’t until you were back in the dropship that you were comfortable enough to turn on some music, and let the rhythm move you.

It was a Saturday evening, but the night was young. Still, because it was close to 11pm, you opted to wear your Airpods, in case anyone was sleeping. You picked a playlist that Spotify curated just for you, shimmying throughout the kitchen while you prepared a meal. You have been listening to a lot of throwback songs lately, and this one in particular definitely got you moving. You rolled your hips side to side while you chopped vegetables, grinning. 

I never really knew that they could dance like this,

They make someone want to speak Spanish.

You dipped down low to grab a pan, bouncing back up along with the beat of the music. Then, while doing some body rolls, you lined the veggies into neat rows. 

¿Cómo se llama, bonito/a? 

Mi casa, su casa. 

When the chorus hit, and your food was in the oven, you were off to the races. You sang along, albeit loudly, and gathered what you needed to prepare the next part of your meal. While you were cooking, Lifeline strolled into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. 

Although it was late, Ajay hadn’t eaten anything yet. She crashed once she returned to the dropship and got some much needed rest. But now, she was hungry, and figured she could just throw a quick meal in the microwave. The last thing she expected to find was you grooving, especially since you told her you couldn’t dance!  Chuckling, she leaned against the door frame, watching you. Then, when it wasn’t clear when you’d turn around and notice her, she strolled over to you. She gently tapped on your shoulder. You flinched and shrieked, whirling around to face the smiling medic. 

“Ajay?!” You gasped. You were still speaking loudly, subconsciously trying to speak over the music playing in your ears. Lifeline chuckled again and motioned to your ears, and you took your Airpods out. Your cheeks flushed; how long was she standing there? How much did she see? “I--you scared me! How come you were just standing there?”

“I wasn’t, I just got here.” Lifeline answered. You weren’t sure if that made you feel more or less embarrassed. Ajay continued, “I see yuh got a lil’ rhythm in yuh after all, huh?”

“No!” You interjected, your face growing redder. “I just like the beat! I wasn’t…you know…dancing.”

“Then what’cha call this?” Ajay mirrored the last dance move you did, and you felt your blush crawl up to your ears. You turned away, unsure how to respond. Ajay’s smile dropped and she moved closer to you. She put a hand on your shoulder. “Hey now, I’m sorry. I ain’t tryin’ to embarrass yuh. Just looked like yuh were havin’ a blast.”

You shrugged, not ready to meet her gaze. “I…guess I was,” you answered, quietly. Ajay smiled softly and squeezed your shoulder. 

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Ajay encouraged, squeezing your shoulder again to prompt you to look at her. You hesitantly obliged and nodded. Lifeline wasn’t convinced that you were feeling any better, and she sighed. 

“Tell yuh what,” she continued, nodding towards the food you were cooking. “How ‘bout I go get my music and we jam together? After yuh gwann and make me a plate of whatever yuh cookin’, that is. It smells delicious.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, thinking. Dancing was always more fun when more people got involved. Plus, Lifeline was both your mentor and biggest supporter in the Games. Surely she wouldn’t be a harsh judge, right? “Okay,” you nodded, “I can try.”

Lifeline cheered. “Perfect! I could use someone who can keep up with me on the dance floor. Silva’s all over the place.” Lifeline snorted. She exited the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”

You nodded and returned to cooking your food. You shifted on your feet, feeling both nervous and excited, while you waited for Ajay to return. 

Turns out, it was much harder to dance in Ajay’s presence, no matter how supportive she was. You were stricken with stage fright and the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became. After messing up your steps for the fourth time, you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Dammit, I can’t remember the steps now.” You complained. You flopped into a chair and grabbed your fork, stuffing your face with food. Lifeline smirked, tsking softly, and sat down across from you. 

“That’s cause yuh thinkin’ about ‘em too much.” she said. She brought her own plate of food in front of her to also eat. Then, once you were both finished, she hopped up first and strode over to you, taking your hands. “C’mon, show me again.”

Sighing again, you allowed her to pull you back onto your feet. She let you go, turning up the music, and you just stood there. Were you supposed to lean to the right, or the left? You couldn’t remember. Ajay’s eyes softened; dancing was supposed to be fun! She didn’t want to see you having a hard time. Then, all of a sudden, a mischievous glint shone in her eyes, and she maneuvered her way behind you. 

“Here,” She started, her hands ghosting over your hips. “Lemme help yuh.”

“Help me h-ho-ww⎯” Your breath hitched as she gripped onto the bones, squeezing them. She guided them to the beat of the music. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

“This is how yuh were movin’ before.” she explained. You fidgeted in her hold, fighting back giggles. Lifeline’s smirk broadened, and she held on tighter. “Hang on now, I’m tryin’ to help!”

“Buhuhuhut thahahat tihihihickles!” You whined. You tried to grab her hands, and she avoided you by sticking her hands under both of your arms. You shrieked. “AHAhajahahahahahy!”

Ajay snickered. “What? Maybe it wouldn’t tickle if yuh weren’t so tense, hm?” she teased, scritching her nails along the center of your armpits. You let out a laugh and hugged your arms against your sides.

“Thahahahat dohohohesn’t mahahahke sehehehehense!” You squealed, hugging yourself tighter the more she tickled. When it still didn’t deter her, you squirmed with a renewed vigor, and wiggled yourself free from her hold. Lifeline followed after you. 

“Yes it does!” She argued, moving to jab your side. You stepped away to dodge her, so she just poked your other side instead. You squealed and batted at her hand, backpedaling as fast as your feet would take you. The medic chuckled, continuing to pursue you at a leisurely pace. “How’d yuh expect to dance if yuh stiff and got yuh face all twisted up?”

You didn’t have an answer for her. You were still giggling as you, unknowingly, backed into the corner that she aimed to box you in. It didn’t take you long to figure out that you were trapped, and you yelled as the medic lunged forward. 

“WAHAHAHAIT!” 

Ajay hadn’t even touched you. You held one arm out to keep her at bay, keeping the other one tightly wound around your torso. She arched her brow, giggling along with you. “I haven’t even touched yuh yet.”

You sank down to your knees, panicking as the medic grew even closer. “I’ll loosen up! I promise! Plehehease dohOHOHOHN’T⎯”

Lifeline cut you off, dropping to the ground with you. She seized the arm around your torso and worked to pry it away. Then, with her free hand, she alternated between poking your sides and stomach. “I’m not sure. I’m convinced that yuh’ll just go back to frownin’.”

“Nohohohoho! No! I WOHOHOHOHN’T!” You protested, fighting against her grip. When it seemed like you’d get free again, Ajay focused on poking your stomach some more, drawing out squealing laughs. Your other hand flailed all over the place before it landed on her shoulder. You squeezed and pushed, momentarily stopping her. But it didn’t last; Ajay’s hands found your hips and she repeatedly pinched along the bones. “NAHAHA AJAHAHAHAY! STAHAHAHAP!”

Ajay refused to let up. She continued squeezing, making you flop around. She even had to duck a little bit to avoid getting hit. It took just a few squeezes more for her to take both of your arms and pin them against your chest using one arm. Then, she straddled your waist, still poking into your hips at random. You giggled loudly and bucked.

“Ajahahahahay, plehehehehease!” You begged, yelping when she suddenly pinched your hips. “I’m smihihihihling nohohohohow!”

“Mhm, so yuh are,” Ajay agreed. She wriggled her fingertips across your waist, easily keeping up with your movements as you squirmed. “But I think yuh can do better. I’ve seen yuh laugh harder at Elliott’s jokes…”

The blush returned to your face in full force. “Th-Thahahaht’s diffeheheheherent!” You protested. Ajay scoffed, snaking her hand up your side. 

“Is it? Or are yuh sayin’ I’m not as funny?” 

Your eyes snapped open and you frantically shook your head. “I’m nahahahaht sahahahahaying thahahaht!” You yelled, feeling her hand stray close to your stomach. You thrashed, fighting the grip she had on your arms. You didn’t remember Ajay being so strong…but, then again, she was a combat medic. Maybe you should’ve expected it.

What you weren’t expecting was Ajay changing course and sticking her hand back under your arm. You squealed and hugged your arms back against your sides, trapping her hand in place. It was getting harder for her to keep your hands pinned, so she pulled them above your head instead. This gave her more leverage, and more room to tickle. 

“No no, save it. I see how it is,” she hummed, now wriggling her nails along the length of your armpit. You arched your back, your protests lost in all of your giggling. “And after all I’ve done to help yuh? That’s how you gon’ treat me?”

“NOHohohohohohohohohoho!” You yelled, now full-on laughing. You writhed in her hold, bucking your hips again to try and throw her off. Not only did she stay put, she tightened her grip on your arms and jumped to your other armpit. “AHAHAHA! PLEHEhehehehehehase stahahahahahahap!”

Lifeline ignored you, using her thumb to prod and really get into those ticklish nerves. It was something that worked wonders on Octane, and also did the trick for you. She laughed aloud as you almost threw her off of your waist.

“Oh please, I’m barely doin’ anything!” She snickered. She surprised you again by suddenly worming her fingers into the side of your neck. You sputtered and brought your shoulders up, laughing harder. “I dunno how you n’ Silva can stand it, being so ticklish.”

“I CAHAHAHAHAHN’T!” You yelled, your eyes shutting from the force of your laughter. Lifeline smiled. She continued to tickle along your neck for a few more minutes before she pulled her hand away. Then, she playfully poked your cheeks and nose, which did nothing to calm down your giggles. 

“Breathe easy, I ain’t gon’ kill yuh.” Lifeline chuckled. She lifted a hand and lowered it towards your neck, as if she was going to tickle you again, but she stopped inches away. You flinched and instinctively yelped, making the medic laugh again. “See? Yuh gettin’ yuh-self all worked up over nothin’! All I’m tryin’ to do is get yuh to smile.”

“I am smiling! Look, look!” You, keeping your eyes on her hand, smiled the biggest smile you were able to muster. Lifeline hummed again and moved her hand, resting it on your side. There was a lull between you two, and just when you thought she’d let you go, you felt her hand snaking up your shirt.

“Nah, I still think yuh can do better.” She answered, prodding into your tummy with her fingertips. You screamed and jolted, dissolving into loud laughter. It was too difficult for Lifeline to keep your wrists pinned above your head with sheer will alone, so she let them go to focus on tickling. She hooked her thighs around your hips so she didn’t go flying off, continuing to tickle along the spot. 

“NONONOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHA AHAJAHAHAY STAHAHAHAHA!” 

Ajay tickled from one side of your stomach to the other, going back and forth, and she had to really work hard to not fall off of you. She laughed. 

“There, that’s the smile I wanted.” She said, easing up on the tickling after a few minutes. By the time she stopped, you were a puddle of laughter, and remained sprawled out on the floor even after she climbed off. At first, Lifeline waited, only to then reach across and playfully nudge your shoulder. “C’mon, get up. I only put yuh through half of what I normally put Silva through.”

You exhaled, pushing yourself up into a seated position. “Half was plenty,” you whined, smoothing your shirt out. Lifeline tsked and gently poked the side of your neck, making you recoil. “Ah! Hey!”

“Uh-uh, don’t start whingin’. I did yuh a favor.”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at her, squealing when she lunged towards you. Although you didn’t admit it, you did feel a lot better, and it showed in your next fluid dance moves. In fact, you and Lifeline came up with your own synchronized emotes for the next game, which definitely became a crowd favorite. But, after your next game, you had this burning question for the medic. 

“Hey, Ajay?” You called while lounging in the common room of the drop ship. Pathfinder was seated beside you, intently watching the show you’d put on TV. His presence made the question that much more pressing.

“Mhmm?” Ajay answered from the corner of the room, scrolling through a few apps on her phone. She peered up at you to see you smiling. She raised a brow; you only smiled like that right before you said something silly. “What’s on yuh mind, (Y/N)?”

There wasn’t really an easy way to phrase the question, so you just spit it out. 

“If Path thinks D.O.C. is his son, doesn’t that technically make you the step-mom?”

“...What?”

An exclamation point flashed on Pathfinder’s monitor, and he turned towards Lifeline. “Hey! I didn’t think of it that way,” he answered. Lifeline groaned and stuffed her phone into her pocket.

“He’s not, he ain’t even⎯now look what yuh’ve done, (Y/N).”

You snickered, turning back towards the TV. Path on the other hand, got up to meet Ajay halfway. 

“Aw, don’t worry, new mom-line. I’d love to raise D.O.C. together!” He said happily, easily picking her up to hug her. Path had a lot of practices hugging the other Legends, and he remembered to be gentle first and foremost. But, Ajay looked less than enthused, and tapped on his metallic arm. 

“Alright, alright, put me down.” Ajay huffed while leering at you. You gave her a small, cheeky smile, and hopped to your feet before Path could set her down.

“Hang on Path, Ajay doesn’t look too happy about this new parenthood thing, does she?” 

Pathfinder looked at Lifeline and then back at you. “Um, I don’t think so⎯”

“Path,” Ajay interjected. “Put me down!”

You knew that Lifeline knew where your mind was headed, and you had to act fast. Pathfinder, on the other hand, was stuck between listening to Ajay and trying to figure out why you were smiling so much…

A/N: I hope you liked this! I’m pretty rusty, but I loved this idea and had fun writing it. I may try something similar with other Legends :D. But yeah, I hope you liked this story.

#apex legends #apex lifeline #lifeline apex legends #ajay che #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!lifeline #apex legends tickle fic

[b0y-artist]

Because I absolutely can't get enough of these two having lil' playdates together 😭😭🥺🥺

"Catch me if you can, *fish breath!"* Mono yelled, sprinting away as quick as he could.

Seven gasped, "Hey! That wasn't nice!" The only response he got was a chuckle far away.

Seven ran ahead, only catching a glimpse of Mono sticking out his tongue, before rounding' the corner into a forest.

Seven made his way through the forest, checking behind any tree or bush that he could find along the way.

"Now, I wonder where he could be..." Seven muttered to himself.

Meanwhile, Mono was crouched under a blueberry bush, barely containing his giggles as Seven loomed dangerously close to his hiding spot.

Seven immediately picked up on the quiet giggles coming from the nearby bush, and he smirked.

"Well, I can't find Mono around here. Guess I'll just have to look around somewhere else..." Seven said, pretending to sound disappointed, as he slowly walked away.

Seven spun around where he stood, the giggling cutting off abruptly as he did so, before leaping for the bush.

Mono yelped, glitching away before Seven caught him. Seven could only mutter a small "huh?" Before planting his face into the dirt.

Seven raised his head up with a scowl, blowing the dirt-covered hair out of his face with a huff.

He turned his head to see his paper bagged friend giggling, just a foot or so away from him.

"Yeah, yeah," Seven said, getting to his feet, and dusting the dirt off his clothes. "Very funny."

Mono giggled, "S-Sorry, I shouldn't be l-laughing, I just–" Mono devolved into more giggles.

Seven rolled his eyes, before catching Mono off guard, and lunging for him.

Mono's eyes widened under his paper bag, before he glitched away, just before Seven could catch him.

"Dangit' Mono!" Seven yelled, once again landing head first into the ground. Mono giggled above him, laying down on a tree branch.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Mono said, shaking his head. "C'mon, Sev. You can be faster than that! Didn't they call you the Runaway Kid for a reason?"

Seven nearly caught Mono by the ankle, before the other boy glitched away in a flash.

Mono giggled, peeking out just behind a tree. "Miss me, miss me, now you gotta' kiss me!"

Seven laughed, before raising an eyebrow, "Is that a promise?"

Mono's smile faltered, "e–eh?"

Seven took this as his chance and ran towards Mono, knocking him to the ground.

"Ha!" Seven laughed, "I told you I'd getcha! Like you said, they don't call me the Runaway Kid for nothin."

Mono could only fumble for words, his face pink from Seven's response.

Seven rolled off of him with a concerned frown, "Hey, are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I? Sorry if I made you hit the ground too hard, I–I should've been more careful–"

Mono quickly took Seven's hands in his, stopping the boy's nervous stammering. "I–I'm okay, Sev!"

Seven breathed out a sigh of relief, "Okay that's good, I thought I hurt you for a second! Why were you so quiet? You usually won't stop complaining when I catch you."

Mono scoffed at the joke, before shaking off Seven's question. "N–No reason, don't worry about it. Are you okay, though? You hit the dirt a lot."

Seven carefully shoved him with a, "Mhm, and who's fault was that?" Mono giggled, with a quiet 'sorry'

"I'm alright, Moe. Don't worry about me." Seven dismissed.

"You know I can't help but worry about you!" Mono insisted, and Seven smiled at him, before ruffling his hair.

Mono hadn't even noticed his paper bag was gone. Usually he'd be so shy and nervous without it, but with Seven, it didn't bother him as much.

"I know."

AHSHDJFODPSLDJENDNCIJSJENDNCKXICJSJ

#little nightmares #little nightmares runaway kid #runaway kid #moven #little nightmares mono #they are my serotonin 💖💖💖 #tem playng #givs me joy 😭😭😭

[straykidsnerd255]

Can you please do if Jin-Woo had a s/o that is a ruler or another monarch but there just too lazy so no expect him really notices? Thank if you do write it!

Sure will! Sorry if it's short! Enjoy<3

The moment Jinwoo found out that were in fact a Ruler, he was prepared to fight you, however he kinda just dropped his sword when you just sat on the ground and looked at him. You didn’t make a move when one of his shadows walked towards you. You just sat there and watched the creature move towards you. You didn’t do anything. Jinwoo was honestly confused. “You are a ruler, why don’t you fight me?” He asked more out of curiosity than anything. You shrugged your shoulders before laying back on the ground. “I don’t like to fight. It's none of my business how things are run.” You said. You put your arms behind your head and closed your eyes. You had fallen asleep. You were done with this shit and just wanted to rest. Jinwoo looked at you before shaking his head. 

That was almost five years ago. That was the first encounter he had with you and now, he was dating you. Well, he was honestly about to propose to you because he loved you to the moon and back. He didn’t care that you were a ruler. He hated that everyone made such a huge deal about the Rulers, but for him, you were everything he had ever wanted. So, he ran around the house getting everything prepared for his big question. You had gone out to get stuff for dinner that night and Jinwoo found that to be the perfect opportunity to get his surprise underway. He made sure the living room was clean and ready for the surprise. He was excited but also really nervous. You were going to be home in about twenty minutes and Jinwoo still had a lot to finish up.

You sighed in annoyance as you pulled your house keys from your pocket and started to put the key in the lock. You had just gone to the store to pick a few ingredients for the pasta that Jinwoo liked and you ended up staying out longer than you wanted to. People kept demanding your attention because you were Jinwoo’s girlfriend and that wasn’t gonna fly. After a while, you completely just ignored them. You walked past reporters because they were getting on your nerves and before you knew it, you were back home and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You unlocked the front door and found yourself face to face with Jinwoo on one knee.  You dropped everything in your hands onto the table and covered your mouth.

“Jinwoo? What is this?” 

“I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s all I ask right now.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest. You smiled softly and wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. You had tears running down your face as you looked Jinwoo in the eyes. “ Will you marry me?” He whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. A smile appeared on your lips. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.” You said pressing your lips against his. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him before he slipped the ring on your finger. “I love you so much.” You said. “I love you too.” He replied, a bright smile on his face.

#Solo Leveling #Sung Jinwoo #fluff #anon #requested #cute #female reader #enjoy

[neoma-eltanin]

Prompt #2: Bolt

For FFXIVWrite2022 Character: Erjon Sjadarwesfv, Eir Fellfrost (umbralsound-fxiv) Warnings: War

The sound of distant artillery filled the air. Not unusual here, at the Bozjan front. Castrum Lacus Litore was bustling with life as usual; shouting, running, machinery… Much like every other place where confrontations with the Garlean Empire troops occurred.

Erjon was used to the commotion. He had lost count of the years spent in the Empire’s armies. The sound of explosions, of guns being fired, of screaming… It was an everyday occurrence when stationed so near the front. By now he almost preferred this over the occasional silence. When it was silent, no one knew what to expect. It might even make one more nervous of what was to come. At least, hearing the smattering and bombing meant you knew what was happening already. And hopefully, that you would not be so unlucky as to be thrown directly into it.

Frankly, right now everything around him sounded somewhat distant. Or, different, at least. Sounds echoed in a strange way when your head was inside a war machina. Erjon kept wringing the wrench around one stubborn bolt to get it loose. He had to reach deeper into the machine to find what was wrong with it. Finally, he managed to release the gasket from where it sat, and he crawled out to dump it on the ground. As he stuck his head out to peer at his surroundings, he caught sight of his centurion receiving a message from a tesserarius. He knew of him – recalled his name to be… Rava. Angeir pyr Rava. An odd name. It was easy to remember at least, if not for the fact other Viera were very rare in the Garlean army. They both stuck out.

Not much sooner had the tesserarius ran off again, likely with words from the centurion to deliver back to wherever he came from. The centurion in question approached the war machina with firm steps.

“Watch out Erjon, I think our centurion got some bad news. He’s on his way here. You done yet?” The words came from a fellow comrade in arms, a Hyur named Kouji oen Albus. They both knew their centurion had a temper. But none of them were very concerned. While he had a temper, he was a good man. They both knew that. Even if looks could be deceiving.

“I know”, Erjon simply replied and crawled into the machine again. “And I’m not. Almost.”

Kouji sighed. “Well, good thing you have armor… And thick skin. Because here he comes.”

Their centurion was still wearing his helmet, yet his body language spoke enough of what mood he was in. The overly aggressive gestures and stomping as he approached were easy to read. “Acus!” he called out to Erjon. “What the hell is taking such time? That war machina is needed at the front, now! Not yesterday, not this morning for my shitty breakfast, and not tonight for my shitty dinner! Are you taking a shit in there or something!?”

“If I was, I’d be dead by toxic fumes by now”, Erjon replied, his voice echoing within the machine together with his tinkering. “You’ll cheer up when I tell you I found our culprit – a steel tubing broke loose. Fixing it now.”

“About damn time! Get it done and get your ass out there, both of you! Our troop is moving in five minutes blank!” Not wasting another minute, the centurion was already heading off, seemingly confident the war machina would soon be ready. Or he simply had a lot of places to be.

Kouji sighed and looked into the war machina, right as Erjon reached for the gasket to reattach it. His face was covered in oil and soot. “So? Is it ready?”

“She’s ready”, Erjon replied as he made his final repairs and crawled out, quickly wiping some oil off his face with a cloth that he tucked into his pocket. “All yours. Don’t break it again.”

“Not planning to!” Kouji replied as he climbed up in the war machina’s driver seat. The machine started up, engine purring deep and steady. “… Sounds good to me. Let’s get back to the troop, or we’ll get a real scolding.”

Erjon nodded, picking up his rifle that was resting on the ground. He checked to make sure it was loaded before placing it in its holster on his back. “After you. Let’s move.”

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #Erjon Sjadarwesfv #Eir Fellfrost #wow this one became long #I had a lot of fun writing it though #I am late..! #hoping I can catch up before deadlines become an actual thing #also using the amazing banners Bexy made for me!

[writerzeph]

Maria has assigned your patrol to go with Joel and Tommy today which you absolutely don’t mind because you think that Joel has become a lot closer to you and is good to have someone who is so skillful at surviving looking out for you. 

After doing a bit of supply searching. The three of you wanted to take a rest suddenly something catches your eyes. 

‘Erm…Joel? There is a herd of runners at 2 o’clock! Where do they come from?’ You said in a nervous voice. 

‘We are doing patrols anyway. So let’s kill as much as we can.’ Said Tommy. 

You didn’t waste any second to run to there. While you are running, Joel has spotted a muscular woman having trouble crawling between the gates. Which he reacted quickly and shot the runner on the head. 

‘Give me your hand! We gonna have to run!’ As Joel offer a helping hand the woman took it.

‘There is too many of them!’ Shouted Tommy.

‘I will cover all of you! get going!’ Said Joel who was ensuring the woman’s safety. 

Before you could see who that person is, all of you were running into the building as Tommy leads the way. Everything finally seems to be more peaceful after you and Joel push the drawer to block the door preventing the runners getting in.

All of you fight your way in until reaches the cable cars. 

‘We can get out of here from the windows but we need the cable car to get out there.’ Said Tommy and we only have to buy more time for him to push that thing near the window. You grabbed the crow bars and took a swing to the runner head. However, this is unlike the other patrols because this is a herd of walkers you are talking about. That is why you started to feel tired after a few swings. You picked up the shotgun and started shooting when there is suddenly a runner running towards your left. You tripped over and fell to the ground. You used your hand to stop it biting you, while trying to reach the knife that was supposed to be in your pocket. You looked around and finally spot it. It was just few feet away. You are hoping that one hand can last for a bit longer because one of it is stopping the runner biting your head off and the other one is trying to grab on the hilt. The one second you thought you grabbed hold of the knife, the next second it slides further. 

No! 

You thought to yourself because you feel the heat from runner’s mouth becomes closer. 

Shoot! You need to abandon the weapon and use the other hand to hold the runner because your arm is giving out. Right before you could do that. Joel use his pistol and blow the infected head off before it could get a hold of you. Feeling absolutely thankful you made eye contact and smiled. 

‘I need a hand!’ Shouted Tommy. You run to help after Joel gave you the I can handle it face. So you and Tommy pushed the cable car right under the window.

‘Ok! Let’s go!’ You shouted. After the three of you jumped outside the windows and finally reached a door which Tommy immediately use a wooden plank to barricade it. 

‘Hey I am Tommy and this is Joel. What is your name?’ You can’t help but notice the shocked reaction on her face. You were confused at that moment. A million questions is bombarding your brain. 

Did she know Tommy or Joel?

‘Abby.’ The name shook you because you knew who she was and you think you got the idea of what she want to do.

You took a step back and asked nervously 

‘What… is your last name just out of curiosity.’ At that moment you were hoping for the worse.

‘Anderson. Abby Anderson.’ 

#joel tlou #x reader #tlou season 2 #part 1

[igotubabe-blog-blog]

This Is A Long One...

Hello Everyone, a LOT has happened over the last four months and I'll try and cover the essentials. I had over 20 pics ready, but tumblr only let's you put ten in a post, so we'll make due with that (but there a lot of ones I would have liked to put in). I'm going to err on the side of kid pics. And I'll try and post more frequently from here on out. Happy moments, bad news tempered by planning, and thoughts about the future below...

55th BIRTHDAY

Wow, what a day! Inga set up an amazing day for me. Friends Bryan and Hillary and their boys brought over some breakfast, then later we had a zoom call with a ton of people/friends/former colleagues from work I hadn't seen in forever. THEN ...I got my hoped-for ukelele!!! (Henry loves to play it too.) Also, I must have had close to 50 birthday cards that she organized and displayed on the wall. And chocolate cake, my favorite. Not so bad to turn 55. How did I get old like that? :)

VISITS

We have had SO many visits I apologize: many of those pics I was forced to leave out, but I wanted to include some. Aunt Kristina flew in from London, the Somashekhars came from Chicago, and Jessica from Upstate NY. She is fighting an arguably rarer and more dangerous cancer than I am. She was also my first call when I got diagnosed as I had no idea how I was going to tell Inga. I've known her over 30 years. There was the Infante family; Tracy and Shawn; Jackie and Warren; Sheila, Tim and Sunil. I'm surely forgetting some people. My apologies, it's not intentional. And several visits scheduled for July already: Kelli and Dave; Amy and Tamara; and my oldest friend Bill D. We feel grateful for all of you!

HENRY GRADUATES PRE-K!

Henry continues to grow up so fast and will enter Kindergarten in September. We got some great school pics and the red pants pics were on his graduation day, but I like the informal ones (before and after the ceremony) better than the official moments. Also, both boys look good in hats, as well as holding a uke.

HEALTH, BAD NEWS AND EFFORTS TOWARD THE FUTURE END

We've been getting bad news the last several months on tumors: they continue to grow ...*incrementally*. We were on the first chemo since Fall of 2021. In January it became clear the tumors were growing. Again: incrementally. Ideally tumors get removed and don't come back. Because mine is a spine-brain/nervous system cancer, great care is taken with surgery not to damage my spine, so I don't get paralyzed. That means they haven't been able to resect all of my tumors completely. Pieces get left behind and we try with chemo to keep those bits dormant. (We have not opted for brain surgery because those lesions are pretty small. I have about three spots in my brain, one at a very dangerous-high-trafficky spot at my brainstem), and the two in my spine have been behaving.

The first chemo did that job for awhile, but then the tumors started growing again in January. New chemo starting in January. Nope, tumors still growing. Incrementally. (Frankly, I'll take incrementally over something growing quickly, which we saw in spring of 2021.) I won't get deep into the emotional roller coaster that puts you on. Not fun with lots of crying --not in front of the kids of course. We've also had some miscommunications with the drs., as well, that made things darker. I admit my typical Pollyanna "I can beat this" even went away for a time. That has been cleared up and we are back on solid ground again. Mostly. Even I need to admit it's very unlikely I will last another five or ten years. Or one or two. ...We just don't know.

All that being said, I WILL continue to fight, and do my exercises. I understand how unlikely it is I will get my legs back, but it's something to strive for. I will start the new chemo in July. Fingers crossed. We have started making videos of me talking about my life and thoughts that will be for the boys (thanks Jesse). I also have a book to fill out asking questions about my life, also for the boys (thanks Tamara). It's slow and yes, emotionally draining (Inga keeps away during the video sessions). Believe me, I feel terrible about leaving family behind. "Grief is the price you pay for love," as I've read and repeat in my head now and then. Yes, I've got tears rolling down my face now. But the boys are playing outside and I will join them soon. No more 'sad dad' stuff for now. My apologies if I'm making you feel bad. Chin up: it won't last. :)

Some good news: I've been able to eat a lot more and am gaining weight again. I'm aiming to break 170 soon. I had bottomed out at 149.9 lbs(!). My normal weight was 185-195 most of the last ten years. I am exercising and feel as strong as I've been in awhile. Everyone notes that the color in my face is really good, and how much (and how dark) my hair has grown back. How long will I last? Nobody knows, but I'm definitely thinking I can be ok into New Years/ 2023. Again, could be a couple months if things go sideways, two years, five I think is not impossible. Nobody knows.

We love you all. Give your family and friends your love. It never hurts to remind them of your appreciation. Until next time, take care. :)

(6/29/22)

#fiskFamily #toddTacklesCancer

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

everything i wanted // bucky barnes

Summary: Bucky asks you to pick Rebecca from school, as you spend the day with her, you can’t help to think that this is what you want, for the rest of your life.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader (Single Parent AU)

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @coffee-books-music​ for proofreading this!

You can consider this as a part two of begin again.

And tagging @buckys-estrella​ because you asked me to!

divider by @firefly-graphics​

wanna be added to my permanent taglist? here

main masterlist

You were in front of the Brooklyn Elementary School waiting for Rebecca, your boyfriend’s daughter. Bucky had called you and told you that something came up at the workshop and he couldn’t pick Becca from school, so he asked you if you could do it. You didn’t mind, you and Bucky had been dating for a while now, since the day you saw him at the diner waiting for a date that never showed up and you decided to be his date instead everything had been perfect.

You met Rebecca a couple of months later. At first, you were nervous, thoughts of her not liking you plagued your mind but Bucky always reassured you that she was going to love you. And he was right. The little girl was delighted with you.

The three of you did a lot of things together, you went to the zoo, to the movies… Bucky couldn’t help himself think that this is how things should have been with Dot. He knew he was a good father and Rebecca loved him a lot but he also knew his little girl needed a mother figure, that’s why he kept going on those dates. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have met you, someone that not only loved him but loved his daughter too.

The bell sounded, announcing the end of the classes for the day. They pushed the front doors of the building open, and you observed kids running out, excited that school was finally over. Your eyes caught the little brunette, she was peacefully walking with a blonde kid beside her.

“Becca!” you tried to catch her attention when you saw she was looking around looking for her father. When her eyes landed on you, a big smile grew on her face.

“Who’s that, Bec?” asked the boy who was still beside her.

“That’s my mom,” Rebecca replied, and with that she ran towards you without bidding goodbye to her friend. You picked her up in your arms, her little arms wrapped around your neck.

You asked, “Had fun at school?” She furiously nodded as she rambled on about what she had done, “…and Miss Larson asked a super hard question and I was the only one who knew the answer.”

“That’s my girl,” you high-fived with her as she laughed.

“Why did you come today?” she asked, tilting her face.

“Your dad is busy at work, so he’s gonna come home late.”

“So you’re gonna stay with me then?” she asked, hope and excitement clear in her voice.

You just nodded and she let a victorious sound escape her mouth. You laughed putting her on the ground and grabbed her tiny hand in yours. “Ready to go home?”

It was late at night when Bucky came home, when he noticed you weren’t in the living room he made his way upstairs to see the adorable image of you and Becca sitting on her bed, his daughter between your legs while you brushed her hair.

Neither of you had noticed his presence yet, he smiled at the view in front of him, how comfortable you were with each other, it was so natural. The thought of coming home every day to this filled his heart with warmth.

Knock Knock

“Daddy!” Rebecca screamed when she saw her father on the doorstep of her room, but she didn’t run and jump into his arms like she would normally do.

“What? No hug today?” Bucky pouted, which made his little girl giggle.

Rebecca pinched her nose with her fingers “You stink, daddy!”

Bucky gasped with fake offense and averted his gaze to you for support, only to receive a “Don’t look at me, Becca is right.”

Your boyfriend raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, I’ll take a shower, but you, young lady, are going to sleep now,” he said, pointing his index finger towards his daughter.

“But Y/N is brushing my hair!” she whined.

“She can brush your hair another day. You’ve got to wake up early for school tomorrow,”

Rebecca looked up at you, “Can you read to me?”

“Honey, I bet Y/N is tir-” But you didn’t let your boyfriend finish his sentence. “I don’t mind.”

“Yaaay,” the little girl screamed happily. She got up from the bed and ran to get a book.

Your boyfriend gave you a “Are you sure?” look.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “You go shower.” Bucky nodded and left the room as Rebecca crawled back to bed and handed you a book.

She got under the covers, and you lied beside her, opening the book and started reading. “The little prince. Oh, I love this one.”

Once Rebecca finally fell asleep, you gave her a soft kiss on her forehead and made your way downstairs. Your boyfriend had finished his shower just a few minutes ago, his hair still damp.

“She’s asleep?” he inquired, his arms wrapped around your figure. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of sandalwood and bergamot. You hummed in response. “Thank you for today.” At this you pulled away from him, looking at his soft features.

“It’s not a problem. You know I love spending time with her.”

“I know. And I love you for that,” he caressed your face and pulled you in again. Joining his lips with yours, your hands reached the back of his neck and you tangled your fingers into his wet hair, earning a low moan from him. You smiled into the kiss, giving him a last peck before pulling apart.

You both sat on the couch, your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder and one of your hands on his round belly, drawing patterns with your fingers. He had one arm safely around you. As you were telling him your day with Becca, he noticed that in the tone of your voice, there was something bothering you in the back of your mind.

“Hey,” he gently grabbed your chin with his free hand and made you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You licked your lips, a habit you had developed years ago and something you always did when you were nervous. You could feel Bucky’s eyes piercing into yours. A worried expression etched on his features. “Did Becca say something to you?”

You shook your head. Swallowing hard, you tried to find the right words, not wanting your boyfriend to misinterpret what you wanted to convey. “It’s just… today, when I went to pick Becca from school, there was this kid with her and when he asked her who I was, she said that...she said that I was her mom,” You weren’t bothered or mad about the little girl referring to you as her mother but to say it didn’t shock you when you heard the words leave her mouth. Especially because it was the first time she did it.

You loved Rebecca the minute you met her; she was an adorable kid, and you of course you had thought about spending time with Bucky and her for the rest of your life, but you didn’t know if that wasn’t something she wanted, if it was something Bucky wanted. So when you heard the little girl refer to you as her mom, something fluttered inside you.

“Did she?” You could see the slight surprise on his face, but still a large smile grew on Bucky’s face and you felt like you could sigh in relief. He didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Quite the opposite, actually. “How do you feel about it?”

“I- I really liked it,” you shyly admitted, a matching smile growing on your face.

“Yeah?” he asked again. He just needed to be sure, the smile never leaving his face.

“Yeah,” you laughed happily. Bucky caressed your cheek with his thumb, and shifted your position on the sofa a little, to have better access to your lips. It was soft and sweet, nothing in the world existed but you two, you could feel fireworks exploding inside of you. Kissing Bucky always felt special and magical, but this kiss had something different, something you couldn’t explain with words.

“Every time I’m with you, there’s no other place I’d rather be. You are my world, my everything, and I’d love to do nothing more than make you happy. Becca loves you, and she could never have a better mom than you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So I’m asking...will you marry me?”

#chubby!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

[messers-moony]

Wish 2 | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at 26 instead of 13

The shock that settled on Malachi’s face could’ve been recognizable from miles away. His Aunts and Uncles were right; he did look like his father. It astounded him. He wanted to be angry. This man had left him for almost his entire life. He was nearly eighteen and would be in November. So why did he show up now?

More importantly, why did he leave Y/n?

“ Why did you leave? “ Malachi’s voice was quiet, and Five swallowed, “ I- I didn’t know she- “

He interrupted before Five could continue, “ I don’t care that you left me. I stopped caring a long time ago. “ Malachi stated, “ I want to know why you left mom. “

“ I didn’t know that I would be gone for seventeen years your time. “ Five informed softly, “ I ended up at the Academy and immediately came here. “

“ That is no excuse! You left her when she needed you! “ The boy was desperate for his father to understand, “ How am I supposed to trust you? To love you after you left the one person you swore to love? “

“ I don’t expect you to trust me immediately, and I don’t expect you to be understanding of my actions. “ Five was almost too calm, �� Understand your actions?! Are you insane? “ Malachi retorted, irritated.

“ You left for seventeen years to prove a point! That’s extraordinarily too far-fetched. You risked never being able to see mom again because of your stupid pride! “ The boy yelled, standing in front of his mother protectively, “ Malachi, please. “ Y/n pleaded.

Tears filled her son's eyes, “ No! Mom, you deserve better than this. “

“ She does, and I’m aware of it. “ Five informed, and Malachi turned to glare at him, “ I’m not ashamed to say that she does deserve better. But you need to know– whether you believe me or not, I didn’t break all of my promises. “

Y/n and Malachi stared curiously, “ One of my wedding vows was ‘No matter what happens, no matter what we go through, I’ll always find my way back to you’. I may have broken most of my vows, and I can’t express the amount of pain I went through knowing I did, but I didn’t break all of them. “

“ I spent forty-five years alone in the future. It isn’t what you think it is either. But I spent every second of those forty-five years trying to get back here to your mom, to my wife. “ Five explained, “ I didn’t know she was pregnant. Perhaps I would’ve stayed. We won’t know now. What’s done is done, and all I can do now is try to earn your trust. “

Malachi didn’t stand down. His glare was harsh, and his eyes turned a shade darker. It was almost scary to see how protective he was. But maybe it made sense because that’s how Five always was. He always held his ground and protected what he loved. But that didn’t heal the breaking in his heart when his own son was being this aggressive towards him. Would it be cowardly to say he was afraid of a seventeen-year-old boy even after being an assassin for nearly five years? Probably.

“ Why did you show up now? “ Malachi’s voice was hurt now, no longer aggressive, “ A doomsday is upcoming. I had no idea when I’d come back or when I’d be back. “ Five answered.

The man swallowed before speaking again, “ How- How old are you? “

“ Seventeen. I’m about to go into my senior year of high school. “ Malachi replied reluctantly, “ He’ll be graduating with honors and as Valedictorian of his class. “ Y/n added.

Five chuckled, “ Glad to know you inherited my smarts. Y/n is hopeless. “

“ You asshole. “ She retorted playfully, and Five smiled, “ You- You really want him back in our lives? “ Malachi questioned to his mother.

She nodded, “ Yes. “

Five stood up from the chair at the island and made his way to them. He kept his distance from them, leaving three feet between them. It was better for Malachi to come to him than the other way around. His back was leaning against the island counter while his son pondered his decisions.

“ Malachi, it’s your decision too. If you don’t want to associate with him, that’s okay. “ Y/n stated comfortably, looking at her son's teary eyes, “ I would like for you two to have the bond you always wished for. But you’re grown up now. This is your choice. “

He sniffled, “ I- I’ve heard stories about you. “ Malachi informed, and Five chuckled bitterly, “ I’m sure you have. “

“ They weren’t all that great. “ The boy added, “ Uncle Diego wasn’t fond of you. Aunt Vanya talks about you a lot. She said that you were always nice to her. “

“ She said that you weren’t nice to anyone else. “ Malachi informed, and Five stared at him curiously, “ Uncle Diego said you were an asshole and prideful. “

Five had a feeling this wasn’t going to work in his favor. His own son was feeling the same way as his siblings had. Admittedly Five wanted that bond too. He wanted to create a bond with his son despite all his faults. He wanted to be there for him now that he was here. Five wanted to prove himself.

“ I wished for years that you’d show up. Every birthday, every Christmas, every thanksgiving, everything. I prayed and wished upon every shooting star that you’d come home. “ Malachi chuckled bitterly, “ But now that you’re here, I’m not sure that was the right decision. “

His father didn’t get a chance to respond before Malachi walked toward the door, grabbing his car keys and leaving. The door shut normally despite the amount of anger and sadness residing in the boy's body. He wouldn’t be another version of his father. He just needed to calm down. Five stared at the ceiling to prevent the tears from falling down his cheeks.

Gently Y/n turned his head down to look at her despite him being taller. Her sleeves covered her palms, and she wiped away the tears. Her sleeves were turning darker from the water. Eventually, Five couldn’t take it anymore. His body shook, and he pulled her into his embrace, sobbing on her shoulder. He held the back of her shirt tighter than ever.

“ I’m- I'm so sorry, love. “ Five cried onto her shoulder, “ Shh, it’s okay. You didn’t know. “ Her voice was calm and steady.

Her fingers ran through his brunet hair, “ Who helped you through it? “ His voice was so gentle and hesitant as his head laid on her shoulder, “ Diego was a great help. “

Five sniffled, holding her closer, “ When did you find out? “

“ A week before you left. I didn’t know when to say it. I was nervous and scared at how you’d react. It turns out I waited too long. “ Y/n chuckled humorlessly.

The man pulled from her embrace to cup her cheeks and gently kiss her lips. The gesture he had missed for forty-five years. At that moment, he felt like they had just gotten married all over again. The softness and gentleness of the kiss made him feel like nothing ever happened between them. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“ I’m sorry. Truly I am. I didn’t know, but even if you had told me then, I don’t think I would’ve listened. “ Five admitted, and she nodded, “ I know. “

A silence cut through the apartment like a spider creeping up a web, quick, careful and skilled, “ Do- Do you think he’ll ever forgive me? “

Y/n shrugged, “ Maybe. “

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