#its a matter of time before she realises how many of us are on her side

[rafesslxt]

Showerhead | mattheo riddle

summary: you thought you were alone in the bathroom when your wild thoughts took over you but you suddenly hear a second voice.. and its not inside your head.

warnings: masturbating for a sec, cursing, filthy DIRTY TALK, fingering, mattheo eating out reader, unprotected p in v, enemyxlover vibe, gryffindor!reader

notes: DAMN I'M BACK! I'm sorry but I had a HUGE writing block. Also: english is not my first language so pls let me know If there'S something I can correct :)

My day was unbelievable fucked. I woke up too late, got detention because i talked to my friends while Snape was teaching us something, i spilled my food over my clothes.. twice.. after that I fell from my broomstick at the quidditch training and now i sat with Hermione, Ron and Harry in the Great Hall eating.

„Yo y/n can I copy your homework later? I got -" Ron startet but i interrupted him "Yeah yeah whatever.. guys I‘m gonna go to bed okay? See you after this." Hermione and me shared a room so I would see her later.

I rushed to our dorm, getting rid of my dirty clothes. God I needed a shower, now. I took my clothes, shower stuff and towels and started to walk towards one of the big bathrooms.

Because I wanted more privacy, I did go to one that not many students know about. Hermione once told me about it as she talked about Hogwarts in first grade.

As I walked inside, I checked If someone‘s here but I was alone. I took off my clothes and stood under one of the showers more in the corner and let the water run down my body. I sighed as I felt it on my skin, finally feeling more relaxed.

My thoughts started drifting after a while as my hands glided over my body. Damn my muscles are really sore. When was even the last time I had sex? I think it was like 3 months ago with a guy from Ravenclaw. He looked promising but merlin was I feeling disappointed after.

I couldn‘t even touch myself cause I was always around people, sharing rooms together and shit.

I bit my lip as I looked at that shower head above me. Nah I couldn‘t.. could I? Did I even have time? I mean I was in here already for like 20 minutes so I had to be in my room before curfew but god damn I was so desperate.

Oh fuck it – what is one more detention, right? I took the shower head, letting my other hand slowling wandering over my nipples. I whimpered slightly at the feeling, realising now how desperate I really was.

I took the shower head and put it where I needed it the most. My thoughts drifted again and I tried to think about someone but no face appeared until - fuck no, I can‘t think about him.. but before I could debate more with myself, his name left my lips.

"Fuck Mattheo.." my lips parted and my breathing got heavier. Merlin was I already about to cum? How pathetic, I didn‘t even touch myself properly but that kind of didn‘t matter as the next words left my mouth. "Shit.. please" i begged into the foggy air around me.

"Damn Princess.." My blood got cold and my body tensed to a point where I couldn‘t move. I swallowed as I opened my eyes and saw Mattheo Riddle standing right in front of me. The one who‘s name I just moaned.

I tried to hide my body behind my hands, a little too late. "Fuck Riddle what the hell are you doing here?!" I asked him angry. Once because I stood there completley naked and he didn‘t even tried not to look and second for my again – non existing orgasm.

He looked shamelessly over my body, scanning every inch of my skin. He had a towel hanging low on his hips, which didnt really helped the state i was in right now.

" I could ask you the same but I think I just heard what you did.." he smirked arrogant and looked at my face. "You know you could have just asked If you wanted my help."

I rolled my eyes at him as I took one of my towels from the side to hide my body but as I did I had to let go which leaded him to look at my breasts. I saw him licking his lips, looking up at my face again as I wrapped the towel around myself.

"Just because your name is Mattheo, doesn‘t mean I was thinking about you."

He grinned again, coming closer to me slowly. "Oh yeah? Then who did you mean?" I tried to think about an different Mattheo but there was no one in this school I knew with that name – besides him.

He just stood one inch away from me now, backing me into the shower again until my back hit the wall.

"Princess.. i know you did think about me, there‘s no shame in telling." I started nibbling on my bottom lip as a signal to being nervous. God he smelled so good and his face looked even more handsome now that the single drops of water fell onto his face from his still wet hair.

"And what If I was? Are you going to tell all your stupid little friends?" He chuckled "No.." his face came even closer now "just let me help you out with that." I swallowed down a clump in my troath as he said that. My pride was way too big for him to just come here and fuck me like that..right?

"Hell no I -" "Why not huh? I saw how desperate your little body looked as you just begged for more.. let me help you with that, I‘m gonna make you cum within the first minutes." Now his arrogant smile was back, his breath hitting my lips now.

"Yeah all of you boys say that, leaving me unsatisfied after." I huffed, looking away from his piercing eyes.

"Let‘s make a deal little one.. I‘m gonna eat you out and If I don‘t make you cum within the, lets say: five minutes? I‘ll leave and never bother you again.."

I looked at his lips while he was talking. They looked so soft and kissable – fuck was I really considering what he said? I mean he‘s a Riddle and a stupid little fucker but maybe that‘s just what I needed right now. Stupid little Fucker named Mattheo Riddle.

"And what If you make me cum?" i looked up at his eyes again. He towered his head over mine grinning, coming down to my ear and whispered "..then you‘re mine for the night." He smiled almost devilish and I know I should‘ve said no but damn 3 months were starting to get the best of me.

"Deal." It felt like as If I just signed up for the devil. His smile grew at my words and he pushed me against the wall this time, unwrapping the towel i just put on.

"Damn your body looks so good, just perfect for me to eat." Shivers went down my spine at his words right towards my - " I hope you know what you just got yourself into." Suddenly he took me by my hips, lifting me up against the wall again as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

"It‘s kind of unfair that you still have your towel on, don‘t you think?“ "Oh don‘t worry princess, it‘s coming off very soon."

He took one hand away from supporting my ass, to my cheek. He looked deep into my eyes, almost staring into my soul. He closed the gap between us, kissing me like no boy ever did before in my whole life. The kiss was passionate, heated and longing. Almost as If we would seperate, we couldn‘t breathe.

I felt the tip of his tounge slide over my bottom lip which made me moan slightly. He smiled against my lips and pressed himself harder against me.

I opened my mouth slowly, which he took as a opportunity to explore my mouth with his tounge fighting over control with mine.

He let go of my lips what almost costed me a whimper but I pressed my lips together. He took me by my hips again, lifting me higher until I sat on his shoulders, my eyes going wide. Damn I don‘t think I need 5 minutes.

"You ready?" he mumbled against my inner tight he started kissing softly with his wet lips. I just let out a deep breathe and nodded, putting my hands on his hair.

He started kissing higher up until his mouth was just an inch away from my pussy. "5 Minutes are alredy starting" I chocked out, but in reality I just wanted him so start.

I could feel him grinning like an little ass but these thoughts were thrown out of the window as his tounge touched my clit.

I held in my breathe for a second as he started to kitten lick my clit and massaging my tights with his hands. I buckled against his face but he was faster and backed away. I let out a desperate whine at the loss of contact.

"Beg me.." he told me looking up at me with his chocolate brown eyes. Shit who was I even to deny that? Now wasn‘t really the moment for too much pride. "Please.." He raised his eyebrows " Please what?" "Please eat me out Mattheo, I need it - please.."

Satisfied with my answer he licked flat over my pussy, focusing on my clit again as he started to suck it. "Oh my-" my lips parted and my hands flew into his hair again, pressing his face deeper between my legs.

"Fuck that feels good" i moaned and arched my back off the wall as I felt something deep down in my stomach. Shit he didn‘t even do much but give my clit some attention - really good attention - and I was already close again.

I felt his hand going under my tight and his thumb being places on my clit. He moved his finger in circular motions, sliding his tounge to by entrance, fucking me with it.

"M-mattheo please!“ shamelessly i bucked my hips and cried out his name.

"You close baby?" he asked, mumbling against my wet skin. I just nodded breathless until I felt a sharp and powerful feeling in my abdomen.

It completely crushed me. Everything around me went black for a few seconds and I couldnt hear anything. I just came so hard on Mattheo‘s tounge that I didn‘t even realise where I was for a short moment.

I looked down on me, looking in Mattheo‘s eyes, already looking at me. "You taste so good baby."

He slowly lets me down again but holds me as we both notice how weak my knees are. "Damn I didnt expect that.." i breathe out and look at his lips, still glistening from my juices.

"I think you lost our deal.." he grinned and startet slowly kissing my neck. I chuckle, nodding just slowly, thinking about how much I actually want him and not caring about the fact that I lost.

"..but you don‘t really seem to care huh." he grins and slowly rubs my back before turning me around so I faced the wall. "Hands on the wall baby." No matter what he said, I always heard him smiling. Smug little ass. "Spread your legs princess, that's it.. wider." My stomach twisted at his vulgar words, never ever did a boy talk to me like that.

I did as he said, spread my legs even wider while my hands touched the cold wall. "Hmm now arch your back for me."

I felt his hands slither around my waist down to my lover stomach. Every touch of his send shivers down my spine. Suddenly, I felt his breath against my ear, his lips kissing the shell of it as he murmurs with a deep voice. "I'm going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head." "Stop teasing me and do it!"

He chuckles darkly and I feel the tips of his fingers wandering slowly over my pussy. "Do you really think you're in a position to give orders?" Goosebumps.

As I didn't answer him he lightly brushed his finger over my clit, making me shiver again, while brushing soft kisses across my back.

"Please." I let out a whimper, arching my back just a little more and pushing my hips into his body. Then, I felt him at my entrance, pressing the tip of his cock against my clit, just where his fingers had been a second ago.

"Beg. Fucking let me hear how much you want this cock." he whispers into my ear, his hot breath hitting my ear. My whole body shudders and I can't help it but do as he tells me to.

"Mattheo please I need you. I need to feel you, I'll do anything." I feel myself almost crying from the frustration and arousal. "Good Girl." he groans before he slowly enters me. Fuck.

"Oh Shit baby, you feel so tight." Mattheo grunted shamelessly as my walls clenched around him. My breathing got heavy and I bite my bottom lip to hide my moans.

"Don't hold back." he commands and just so, I let my lip go and whimper out his name.

"Hmm just like that princess." He pushes further inside of me, groaning at the feeling. I feel so full of him, I can't think straight besides of him and how good he feels.

Abruptly he started moving his hips fast an hard against my ass, leaving my mouth hanging wide open. " Oh fuck, Mattheo!" I cried out at the sensation. His hand started to wander up and down my body, over my back, my stomach, my tits - playing with my nipples.

"What, you want gentle? Wrong fucking address." God where has he been all these months? It feels like he just fills that hole inside of me - literally.

I hear him panting behind me, not slowing down with the movement of his hips. "Shit I would've fucked you way sooner If knew you had such a tight little pussy, just waiting for me to come and fuck it sore."

I hiss as he takes my hair into his fist and yanks my head backwards so It would lay against his shoulder while my back is still arched and he presses me against him. My hands roam over his arm that holds me in the middle of my body and I close my eyes. I'm definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.

I felt him changing the angle of his hips a little and my eyes almost bulged out of my head. "Oh my god!" I almost scream, forgetting that someone could hear us, even tho not many know about this bathroom. "Fuck yes, I feel you clenching around me princess. Does that feel good hm?" he teases and bites my neck gently.

Words coiled inside my throat, coming out as broken sobs, telling him I'm wanting more. "You're still holding back, just let go."

So I screamed his name again, over and over again, until I felt a sharp pang in my stomach. His hand let go of my body, his second hand still in my hair. He grabbed the shower head and turned the pressure higher before he holded it right against my clit.

I was a whimpering and sobbing mess at this point, begging him to let me come. "Look at me. I wanna see you coming around my cock." He tugs at my hair and my eyes roll back to look into his, which gave me the rest I just needed to come.

Looking into his eyes made my walls clench around him again, leaving his mouth hanging wide open. "Shit.." he grunted and closed his eyes as his rhythm became more erratic. Just as I slowly came down from my high, I felt him pulling out of me and coming all over my back, spreading his hot cum.

"Fucking hell.." he breathed out and slowly let go of my hair and hanging the shower head back onto the wall after washing his cum off of my back. I turned around and looked up at him, smiling slightly.

"What? Did I fuck out all your negative energy?" he chuckled, pressing me against him again with one of his arms. I roll my eyes at his comment but still I couldn't hide my smile. "I have something for you.." he said, now he's smiling like a little devil.

I look at him confused which he answers me with his fingers in front of my mouth. I look down at them and gasp as I see his cum on them. "Come on, open up baby.." I didn't knew why but again I did as he said and parted my lips. He pushed his fingers inside my mouth and grins. "Suck them."

I started sucking on his fingers and swirling my tongue around them, tasting his salty cum. His eyes rolled back a little and I saw him shuddering for a moment. "Damn, you wanna suck my cock maybe?"

I did let go of them and chuckled as I pressed myself pass his body to wrap my towel around my wet body. " Maybe next time.."

"Oh so you wanna do this more often, huh?"

Oh and how we both didn't knew at that moment how often actually.

_______

Who wants a part 2? It's here!

Let me know how you liked it!

My Harry Potter Masterlist.

xoxo Sarah <3

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter masterlist #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n

[starzwithapen]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ START A LOVE TRAIN

જ⁀➴.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚.

☆Summary: John Dory's first meeting with Rhonda and her owner, you!

☆Content: reader is gender neutral, first meeting!! Gonna make a part 2 exploring their relationship more :3

☆a/n: I FUCKING HATE HIM [affectionate] my first worrkk pls leave feedback if youd like it helps a ton!! :3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The day John Dory met you and Rhonda was simultaneously one of the worst and best days of his life.

He'd been hiking- nothing out of the ordinary for him, maybe one venomous spider he'd had to fight off, but so far so good! The sting of the cold air against his cheeks quelled his thoughts, made him feel accomplished, in a way.

But he must've been distracted- he was a little more careless than usual, overestimating his own strength and struggling to pull himself upwards, his legs dangling over the edge- he could feel a tick of nerves in the back of his mind, but pfftt, John Dory's got this! He's done this a million times-

Next thing he knows, the rock holding his legs up collapses, and down he goes with it, tumbling over harsh terrain while the wind rushing past his ears drowns out his yelling.

After many very painful seconds of straight up rolling down this cliff, John Dory groans in pain, dusting himself off and pushing himself upwards, except- oh, shit, okay, ow, something’s very wrong with his ankle.

He hisses and grabs onto the skin, pulling his goggles up to inspect it- it appears swollen, and he realises with a frustrated groan that he'd managed to twist his ankle miles away from the nearest safe-house.

Well- looks like he'll have to camp outside for the night, wouldn't be the first nor last time, but it'll be significantly more difficult with a leg that refuses to cooperate with you.

He rushes through setting up camp, wanting to just sleep the pain off till his foot got better, but just as he sets his head down on the pile-of-leaves-that-vaguely-resemble-a-pillow, he hears distant rustling.

That's not odd- it'd be weirder for the forest to be quiet, if anything, animals are always trudging along no matter the time of day- what's odd is how loud the sound is, feet papping against the floor in heavy strides, coming closer and closer towards him.

John Dory sits up in a flash, suddenly regretting how shittily he'd camouflaged his camp- his eyes widen towards the oncoming noise, having just enough time to snatch a stick and hold it out threateningly, though his hands shake and tremble.

“Hey! I have a- uh, a really sharp stick, and I'm not afraid to use iiIIITTT-”

The stick goes flying out of his grasp, and he gets the breath absolutely slammed out of him as something huge jumps onto him, rumbling atop him and- eugh, was it licking him?! Was this how he died, after all these years?! Eaten alive by a-

“Down, girl- stop that, you're scaring him!” the thing finally lets up on trying to swallow him whole, standing back on its hind-legs and cooing at you excitedly, and it's then that he notices you.

“Gods, I'm really sorry- she's not usually like this-” you reach over with a grimace to wipe the wet mess of saliva and glitter off his cheeks with your sleeve, and all JD can do is stare at you, star-struck. One minute he was facing his impending doom, and now he was facing the prettiest person he'd ever set his eyes on, and though he's certain it's night time he feels as though you're shining the sun's rays straight at him.

You smile nervously and pat his attacker's leg, “She wasn't actually going to eat you- or at least I don't think she was? You can never quite tell with Rhonda.”

Okay, John Dory had lived on his own amongst nothing but the trees and mountains for years, so excuse him for not being particularly eloquent when all he blurts out is “John.”

You and Rhonda blink at him comically for a moment, and he feels his cheeks flush under his fur-lined vest. No one's ever caught him off gaurd like this before.

“That's…not my name, but good guess anyways.” You check over him as if he's concussed, and he tries not to frown at the scrunch in your nose as you take in his camp.

“It's my name- John Dory.” He flashes you a charming smile, though he assumes the effects are dampened by the mess of glitter and dirt still smeared across his face, “and can I get yours, or can I just call you mine?”

Silence stretches on between you both, his smile getting more strained by the minute- why hadn't that worked? That always worked, at least when Spruce did it! You were supposed to be- swooning, or something! Not looking at him like he's sprouted a second head!

You cut through the tension with a gasp, and he follows your gaze down to his badly-damaged leg, now with extra bloodied scrapes, “Oh god, that looks rough- did Rhonda do this?” He doesn't have time to tell you that no, actually, it wasn't your fault, when you turn around and scold your…armadillo? He feels his lips quirk up- you looked pretty cute like that, like a disgruntled parent.

“Well, you can come inside and I'll wrap it up for you- you shouldn't leave it out in the open like that.” You wave him over, grabbing onto his hand to pull him into the door, and he feels his skin burn pleasantly where you both touch.

And that's how it starts. JD walks inside the armadillo bus, Rhonda, marvelling at the warmth. Though you hadn't given him your name yet, he felt as though he could trust you- you seemed like someone who values honor and helping others, however bluntly or awkwardly you may go about it.

You wrap his leg with gauze and a healing salve, and he fills the room with chatter- it'd been so long since he'd last seen another soul, he didn't realise just how…lonely he'd felt. You don't speak much of yourself, probably staying cautious, but you do seem curious about his stories, and the twinkle in your eye urges him to speak with a little more pomp than usual.

Your voice turns more concerned as you ask what he'd been doing camping out in the open like that- he'd told you of the trail he planned to follow, though he'd skipped the part where he fell off-course. He tells you of how he'd wanted to end up somewhere warmer by the time winter really hit, sighing to himself. “I'll just have to stock up on fire-wood, maybe invest in a flame-thrower.”

“I mean….we can take you there.” You offer in a quiet voice, your gaze stubbornly set on the floor, “It's still a pretty long drive, but better than 2 months walking on a sprained ankle, especially with how gnarly it looks.”

John Dory's conflicted- the offer sounds heavenly. He pictures waking up to your warmth day by day, helping you gather breakfast, travelling with a companion, for once, but….he'd left to the middle of nowhere for a reason. He wanted to distance himself from his old habits, his old expectations of himself and others.

Though….you seemed to be just as- if not more- capable than him. He wouldn't need to be a pillar for you to lean all your weight against, nor the pressure that turns coal into shining diamond- you two could simply…have each other's backs. Maybe…maybe this could work out, at least for a little while.

John Dory tilts his head up and takes one look at your welcoming smile to make up his mind.

"Can't say no to your pretty face, now can I?"

This time you snicker behind your hand at his awful flirting, but he catches it just in time- and he knows this'll be the start of something great.

#john dory x reader #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls john dory x reader #x reader #ok sorry I dont like putting stuff in main tags </3 thats it for tags #starzwrites #PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK IT HELPS A LOT !! #i hope this was enjoyable even tho it was shorter than I wanted :[ had to split into 2 parts ....

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut

teacher's pet.

Every word he said was giving you goosebumps.

He was harsh, stony, and, according to many students, ruthless. There were times when you made eye contact with each other, although they never lasted longer than two seconds, after which you always felt your cheeks burning. Those two seconds were enough for you to feel like he was sucking your soul out of you. Then you looked away as if you had been burned, trying your best to focus on the lecture. Apart from the innocent glances you threw his way, you had absolutely nothing in common. Well, based on the students' stories, you avoided him, afraid that you too would get to know his harsh side. As you walked down the same hallway, you were so scared of the confrontation that when you spotted him on the horizon, you turned around and ran towards the nearest restroom. Back then, you were sure he didn't even remember your name. And, what is more, you weren't aware of how amused he was by your childish behavior.

Despite his aura that was repulsive to many students, one thing could not be taken away from him. His intelligence.

Every time you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest. You were completely fascinated by him. He was definitely an object of desire among women. Despite his strict side, female students flocked to him like flies. Professor Colby Brock was particularly disliked in the male community. Because he used the most ruthless and extremely harsh comments especially towards men.

The silence all around pulled you out of your thoughts. Upon realising that everyone was staring your direction, you turned your head up. There he was, looking at you. Patiently waiting for your answer to the question he had previously asked.

After a few seconds, which felt like eternity, he gave you a smile and moved on to get the answer from someone else. You started blushing from the embarrasment. Your friend sitting next to you noticed and playfully hit you with her elbow, while raising a brow at you. She obviously knew about this little crush and always made jokes about how the two of you should just get a room already. You always rolled your eyes, knowing deep down that's what you wish for.

The next round of questions started and you saw your teacher going down the line, all of your classmates answering one by one. When you knew it would be your turn next, your heart began racing. You were quickly counting through the questions, to see which you would have to answer, so you wouldn't embarass yourself even more.

"Miss Y/L/N, number three, please."

He set his hand on the table in front of you, supporting his body weight as he was leaning a little bit. Tattoos peaking from under his rolled sleeves, you had to push away the sinful thoughts once again.

"How do you check brain health? Uh, you check it through electroencephalography, spinal tap or myelography," you looked up at him, trying not to stumble over your words.

"Agreed, but you forgot about the most important and simplest method called Imaging Tests. Otherwise, good enough."

You weren't entirely happy with your answer, but you were glad that you were at least able to escape the humiliation of yourself. After you answered your question, he suddenly decided to finish the lesson, as an hour and half already passed.

"That's all for today. And, don't forget to borrow a book on neuroanatomy. It can really help you." He finished the class by picking all of his books up, walking towards the door. He let everyone pass through, before walking out of the class himself.

You and your friend said your goodbyes and each went different ways. Yours lead to the library.

Your professor semeed to be following the same path.

If it weren't for the fact that you were in a public place, you would definitely have burst into loud screams.

Upon arriving at the library, you were greeted by the closed doors. What was extraordinary was that the library closed earlier than it should have. The librarian usually set her own rules, so it was almost impossible to come across her.

You shook the handle one more time and checked for the opening hours sign, just to be sure.

The sign was showing exactly what you thought. The librarian was probably drinking a delicious cappuccino in the principal's office. It's called double standards when you're related to the head of this school.

You weren't happy with the situation, but there was nothing you could do, so you decided to go home. When you turned around, you started rummaging through your bag. It was always full of stuff and you could never find wireless headphones. You walked slowly, leaning to the side, still grabbing random things to find the plastic box. After a few steps, you noticed a figure in front of you.

Upon turning your head up, you noticed your Brain Mechanisms professor standing there. He was playing with a set of keys, turning them at their hoop around his fingers. You almost fainted. You started looking around frantically, but it was too late to escape. It would be at least strange if you ran out now. Certainly no one would see you in any of his lectures again.

"Exemplary student, I see. Running to borrow the book I mentioned straight after the class," he pointed out, while slowly walking towards you. Your heart started pounding, but thankfully, he just passed you to get to the door.

"I didn't know you were in charge of the library, professor Brock. Where is Mrs. Smith, may I ask?" You were genuinely curious.

While trying to unlock the door, he turned his body halfway to face you.

"I have not received any information about her, but I volunteered to take her place. You know, I get credits for it and, I assure you, it's not that hard of a job."

Your suspicions about drinking coffee in the principal's office were becoming more and more true.

When he finally managed to open the door, he walked past it. Holding them open with one hand, gesturing for you to come through with the other.

Marching forward, you felt his eyes looking you up and down. As you walked through the doorway, you heard his voice behind you.

"The section you are looking for is there," he pointed to a huge shelf to the right labeled neurology. Everything would be fine if there weren't a dozen or so shelves. You didn't know which to look at.

You quickly gave him a smile while speeding your walk to get to the shelves, so you could look for the books you needed and got the hell out of there.

All this time, you were wondering why he hadn't criticized you yet.

After a while, several more people started walking through the door. They sat to study or just tried to find the books they wanted. It was taking you a surprisingly long time to find the titles you were looking for, the ones that were supposed to help you with your studies, but you didn't want to ask the teacher, you'd rather die on the spot.

You spent a good ten minutes going slowly over the section of letter "N" but didnt see any copies of the neurobiology book left. Thinking your classmates already took all of them, you were slowly losing hope. You slid over to the frame on the right, moving on to find a book for your psychology finals.

Scanning the shelves with your eyes, looking for the letter "S" the dark figure appeared next to you once again.

"Need any help?" he asked you generously.

Well, you didn't want to ask him that at first. But since he was already standing there, you decided to give it a try.

"Yes, sir."

He started walking away from you, signaling you to also leave the cubicle made out of shelves.

"Well, maybe neurobiology is in a different section. You're in the language department, Miss."

You were following him to the other side of the library, but this comment made you pause for a split second and roll your eyes. He was following you to the cubicle in the furthest corner of the room. You really just wanted to get this over with and come back the next day, when the usual librarian would be back.

Then, Professor Brock, walked between the two giant shelves and you kept following him. Stopping in front of the middle one, you started scanning the section of the letter "Z" once again.

"Thank you, I can handle from now on."

Something didn't seem right as he didn't leave after what you just told him. In fact, he got even closer. You didn't know if you were scared, purely annoyed or even a little bit aroused. You just barely got to notice that the books on the shelves were about history, when he turned you around in one swift movement. You dropped your bag on the ground in a response, hoping your glass water bottle didn't shatter.

He pinned you against one of the bookshelves, roughly holding your arms above your head.

"And maybe, I lied about the book being here," he whispered straight to your face.

You began to breathe heavier and felt your heart practically leap out of your chest as you looked up at the professor towering over you. You felt small and weak. But you kept your mouth shut.

"Tell me, Y/N, do you think I'm an idiot?" he asked, his voice as cold as ice then. You surrendered completely to his voice. Not having the courage to respond, you shook your head. "Use your words, puppy."

"I would never dare to think like that, sir."

"Oh, and I think otherwise. I've seen the way you look at me in class. Every time you try to avoid me, you make me look like a fucking idiot. Do you think I don't notice the looks you give me during lectures? Is that why you are so restless, innocent, absent?" You felt goosebumps once again.

"Never in my life would I have thought you were an idiot, professor."

"Good. Now, just stay right there. And don't you dare move, understood?" he added, raising his voice even more.

"Yes, sir. I won't move, I promise, I'll be good for you."

"Good girl, always so obedient when you want to be," he whispered in your ear, making shivers shoot right down your spine. "I bet you will miss me when you graduate. Will you?"

You bury your face in your hands as your cries wrack through your body. "Y-yes. So much, sir."

"Oh, I'm sure you will." He almost scoffed. He moved your hands away from your face, taking both of your hands in one of his, and his free hand reached up to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.

"There's nothing to cry about. I can't stop thinking about you, puppy. Every time I catch your eye, I try to stop myself from fucking you on my desk. Can you understand that? Can you understand how much you mean to me?"

"Sir- I..I'm not worth losing your job, listen to yourself!"

Colby frowned and grabbed your hands tightly back into his. He never liked anyone not looking at him when they talked to him.

"That's for me to decide, isn't it?" He asked sternly as he looked at you.

"How are you going to make sure no one ever finds out, sir?"

"By being careful, and taking our time," he explained. "But also by being smart.. by paying close attention to any signs that anyone is suspicious. And that means you'll need to learn how to be careful too.. how to be cautious" he added. "We will keep it between us, my girl."

You nodded at his words and suggestions.

"I'll make sure to be careful, sir."

He smiled down and cooed in your ear.

"There we go.. You’re so smart, darling."

His fingers ran through your hair and despite the comfort, you felt a knot in your stomach at his words.

"Do you like that…? The thought that you can have me?" he asked teasingly, smiling a little bit. "The thought that you are mine… and only yours? Does it make your heart skip a beat?"

He moved his hand to play with the collar of your shirt, noticing how your eyes followed everything he did.

Almost immediately, you nodded and opened your mouth in a contented sigh.

"Y-yes, sir."

"The thought seems nice, doesn't it…?"

He leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising in mock curiosity, as if he was exploring the feeling right next to you. Back then, his tone was filled with nothing but lust.

"And..what if I were to…" he asked as he moved so he leaned closer to you until he was practically above you… "Show you how good it feels…?" He asked gently, leaning forward.

"Would you like this… princess?" As he spoke, his breath became even warmer and you could see his eyes were filled with nothing but love, lust and passion.

"I'd love that… Professor. I am yours."

You bited your lip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. You moaned when he inhaled your scent and kissed your neck, licking it in the process. "Do you want to do it here?" He huskily asked, hands also beginning to touch and caress you everywhere, especially your boobs, groping and massaging it.

His deep, sexy voice plus the way he kept touching you everywhere sent shivers down your spine that you didn’t even think twice to tell him yes. You looked like an angel, pure and innocent.

He took your body tightly, molding it in his grip as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You sook your head in despair, eliciting a sarcastic laugh from him. "I like that, professor"

"I’ve barely touched you yet, lil’ thing." He tugged at your hair, pulling harshly at it.

"Professor," you grumbled, which only resulted in him pulling at it even more.

"Spread your legs for me, puppy." he demanded, holding your torso tight in his left arm. Enamored of how his eyes hovered over you while making your way up between his legs, you slowly parted your knees, giving him a lovely sight.

"Please," you sighed, feeling shivers run across your body.

He chuckled, blowing air at the bruise he’d just created on your neck. "Why such a rush? We need to take it slow so you can learn!" You gulped as soon as he scraped his nails on your stomach. "Do you promise me you’ll pay attention to the lesson, puppy?"

You bobbed eagerly, glancing at his face just to see his tongue in between his teeth in a devilish grin. "Promise, I promise you."

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock fanfic #hell week #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #colby #xplr #colby brock x oc #colby brock x you #colby brock x y/n #sam golbach x you #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach imagine #sam and colby x reader #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby roleplay #sam and colby imagine

[patriwoso]

Promises • Mapi Leon

“MARÍA.”

You weren’t one to shout, never. Shouting at your loved one was something you could never vision yourself doing and you felt sick at the idea of being cruel to the women you loved so much.

But you’d had enough.

“Mapi, 6. 6 o’,clock you were suppose to be there. We had a table booked.” You voice cracked a little “One by the window” You sniffled, upset at the small detailing of the date that was put to waste. Mapi loved the window table.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t expect training to carry on for as long as it did. Then we had an analysis session on the opposition and we didn’t know how long that would be either and-”

“It’s fine, I’ve heard enough.” You slide your shoes off and walk into your shared bedroom. “Sleep on the couch” You snap, closing the door behind you and sliding down the wall, head in your hands as tears streamed down your face.

Dating a footballer had its perks. You watched so many amazing games, saw the back halls of Camp Nou and you’ve seen different parts of the world by following your girlfriend around.

But that was just it, you were just following your girlfriend around. You had plans dropped at the last minute to get to the other side of the country when she asked you to come to her game, you flew 7 hours to watch her play in the most prestigious competition of them all.

There was no time for you, as a couple. And you craved the feeling of being loved and respected and like nothing else mattered in the world except for Mapi, and you.

“Y/N, let me in.” She hammered the door.

You took a few deep breaths to try to remain calm but you weren’t sure it was going to last long.

Mapi came in and you let her speak but you continued your night time routine, washing you face and braiding your hair as you listened to her apologies and explanations.

“Y/N, I’ll make it up to you. We can schedule something in for Friday?” She suggests.

“Schedule it in?” You scoff. “María I don’t want to have to be scheduled in I want to be your priority for just a minute, just a few hours where I am the only person that matters to you!” Wiping the tears from your cheeks you keep going before she has the chance to stop you.

"I'm so sick of this 'will we, won't we' shit. I don’t know if your coming or going anymore and it’s exhausting!”

“I’m sorry Y/N. I haven’t been a good girlfriend and I’ve realised that. I’ve realised that I need to be more involved, in us, this relationship. Otherwise we won’t work.”

“I just want some time.” You whisper, letting a few tears eventually slip free.

“I promise you more time, you mean everything to me and I promise to show you that.”

#woso #woso x reader #espwnt #fcb femení #fcb femeni #mapi leon #maria leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon x imagine #woso masterlist #woso couples #woso one shot #woso community #woso imagine #wosoedit #woso x imagine #woso soccer #woso ficlet #woso fic #woso fanfics

[vetteltea]

Lewis Hamilton and Building Snowmen [no warnings]

Day 4 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: This is for you, @f1version. Steph is a complete legend in the way that you’ve loved Lewis for as long as I have, if not more so, and we had this beautiful realisation about young Kimi Raikkonen being a complete crush. This is also the first time I’ve written a full Drabble for Lewis so I hope I did some justice!

Willow’s face was squinted in concentration, her tiny tongue poked out as her fingers moved to press the rock from her front garden into the molded face of her snowman. She adjusts in your hold, silently thankful when your own hand reaches out, using a little more pressure on the lump which resembles the snowman’s eye. 

She had been focusing on her wintery project for the best part of an hour; after a desperate call from your sister in law, rapidly explaining how due to the weather conditions, Willow and Kaiden’s school was closing,  you and your boyfriend had agreed to drive straight from the airport where you had just touched down to pick them up whilst she stayed at work, promising to leave as soon as possible. 

You were tired, unbelievably jet-lagged, but that didn’t matter when the two children saw you pull up outside of the school in that signature Mercedes, both of them leaping onto each of you, shocked it had been their adorned Aunt and Uncle to come and collect them. Whilst you helped them to adjust their coats, hats and gloves, Lewis strapped in the car-seats, settling both of them into the back and driving back to the family home. 

It had meant to be a surprise; the two of you were supposed to arrive that evening, surprise the family at dinner. However, plans changed, which led to the two children in the back begging to stop at the park so they could go and play in the snow. A single plea from both of them had caused their uncle to change direction, parking in a quiet spot and letting the four of you go to explore the snow laden park. 

The two younger ones had been dressed appropriately, whereas you both looked insane; you, wrapped up in Lewis’ coat whilst he opted to put on two heavier jumpers, hoping that would be enough to keep him warm. 

The park was a little busy, many families from the school deciding to do the same thing as you and Lewis had done. Children dotted around the park, playing in the snow, tumbling down the hill in excitement. Your eyes had flickered over to where your boyfriend and nephew stood, now focusing on their own creation. 

A small tug on your arm pulls you back to Willow, now reaching for the hat which sat atop of your head. You finally caught up to what she was attempting, grinning as you passed it down to her, letting her tiny hands place the cap atop of the snowman’s head. She lets out a small giggle, before giving you a thumbs up, letting you know that her masterpiece was finished, just in time for when her brother and uncle walked over. 

“What have you two been doing then, huh?” Lewis is quick to speak first, his dark eyes flickering over the snowman he’d seen the two girls working on. He begins to notice the details; the dark eyes made from coal, a green leaf wrapped around each stick-arm to represent gloves, the biggest giveaway is the Mercedes cap you had been wearing.

“Is that me?” He laughs, heart warmed by the fact they had attempted to craft him. “I love it!” He leans forward, wrapping both of you into his arms, pressing a kiss to each of your foreheads. “I know why you’re always so good at drawing me pictures now!” 

Kaiden by this point, was tugging on your arm. “Come on, you gotta come and see us now!” He insists, his tiny body attempting to drag you across the snow. 

Stood just a few meters away from Willow’s Snow-Uncle, was another snowman. This one was smaller, squat, with four legs and a giant head. You can’t help the grin which falls from your lips when you notice the scarf wrapped around its neck, your boyfriend holding the remaining length up as a leash. 

“Hey, it’s Roscoe!” You laugh, Willow giggling too as she climbs from your grasp, taking over from holding the leash where Lewis had once done. He soon settles next to you, wrapping his arms around you gently, head resting on your shoulder in comfort as the two of you watch the children pretend to feed Snow-Roscoe treats. 

“I want one.” Lewis mumbles, out of ear-shot for the two younger members of the party.

“Another Roscoe?” You tease. “We can get another puppy-”

“You know what I mean.” He’d grinned back, pressing a kiss to your lips softly. It’s something the two of you had discussed for a while now; the idea of beginning to grow a family with the man you loved always gave you butterflies; even if the two of you weren’t even married, it was something that you had discussed. You wanted three; all with his eyes, his smile and compassion. 

“Look!” Kaiden draws the two of you away from one another, pointing in the direction of where the trees overlaid one another, creating a pathway down to the playground, the giant slide now clear of now from the endless use. “Everyone is sliding down, can we?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, both Willow and Kaiden running in that direction.

You’re the first to follow, Lewis taking a moment to see the smile blossom onto your face from the escapades of his niece and nephew. It was something that all those years ago had made him realize how much he loved you; when he came home from picking up his sister and saw you on the couch, deep into reading them both a story they had decided on. 

Cold fingers lace back together, both of you walking behind the two children, Lewis’ thumb absentmindedly rubbing over your fingers. It warms his heart, hoping but knowing it would only be a few days until he could run his hand and feel a silvery engagement ring under his touch. 

#Lewis Hamilton #LH44 #Lewis Hamilton x Reader #Lewis Hamilton Imagine #Lewis Hamilton One Shot #Lewis Hamilton x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Lewis Hamilton Blurb #Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

[theehoneeybee]

Talking in Your Sleep. Chapter 2.

Talking in Your Sleep - I Remember Nothing

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

series m.list

<previous next>

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The warm sun beat down, dancing through the trees leaving a pattern of intricate shadows on the grass below. The chirping of the birds hidden amongst the trees blended in with the chatter of the many families. Nebraska was beautiful this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. The smell of the pine trees was unforgettable. It was refreshing and would linger in your clothes even days after you had left. Mike sat on the wooden bench, worn down from years of use. His dad cooked up burgers on the barbeque, the delicious smell wafting through the air. His mum sat opposite him putting sauce on her burger.

His dad laughed, "How about some burger with that ketchup?"

"Everything is better swimming in ketchup," she smiled.

Garrett was playing nearby, running around the campsite with his bright orange toy plane and making engine noises. He always loved toy planes, but that orange one was his favourite. He took it everywhere. Mike's mum knocked over a drink, spilling the sticky liquid over the bench. She sighed.

"I'm going to get some towels. Go watch your brother."

Mike smiled and nodded, getting up to go find Garrett. A bright yellow frisbee flew by catching Mike's attention. He wandered over to find it so he could throw it back to its owner. Kids were always leaving their toys behind here. One year, Garrett had left his favourite orange plane behind. The second he realised, hours into the drive home, there was a flood of tears. Of course, his parents turned around and drove all the way back to get it. The sudden revving of a car engine next to Mike pulled him out of the memory. 

"Garrett?"

Inside the the car, staring out the rear view window, was Garrett. 

"Garrett!" Mike called out frantically, dropping the yellow frisbee to the floor.

The car started to move off and Mike ran as fast as he could. Garrett stared back at him, orange plane in hand, slowly getting further and further from Mike's reach. The navy blue car drove off as Mike screamed for his brother. There was nothing he could do. Garrett was gone. 

-

Mike awoke from his sleep drenched in sweat. Every night he had the same dream. It was a memory he relived from his childhood. The day Garrett was taken. He turned off his alarm and ripped his headphones off his head. Mike listened to nature sounds at night to relive the memory. It was a technique he had taken from the Dream Theory book. No matter how many times he would have that dream, Mike was never able to see who took Garrett. The mans face was always hidden in shadow and the dreams were the same every time, nothing new ever coming to light. 

Mike got out of bed and started his morning routine. Every morning he would do a set of push ups. It helped to clear his head from his dreams the night before. He wandered tiredly into the kitchen and began to cook breakfast for himself an Abby. His sister was still fast asleep. Her drawings were always strewn across the house. Whenever Abby had time to, she would be drawing. Even in school, instead of playing with the other children, she would be drawing. And of course, there was the imaginary friends. The only people Abby talked to were these friend. She barely spoke to Mike, but with her friends she would talk non-stop. Mike couldn't help but worry about her. Without their parents, it was up to him to raise her and so far he felt like he wasn't doing a good job. 

Mike knocked on her door. "Abby, get up or we're going to be late." No response. "Abby?"

He knocked on the door again before slowly opening it up. Of course, Abby was sitting at her desk, lost in the colours of another drawing. Mike sighed. 

"Abby, you need to come eat breakfast." 

"I'm not hungry," she says, carrying on with her drawing. 

"You need to eat."

Abby doesn't budge. Mike tries to take the crayons away but Abby won't let him. They struggle over the dandelion yellow crayon until it snaps, the broken half cluttering against the wooden desk. 

Mike sighed. "Whatever, I don't care. But you should know what happens to little girls that don't eat. They stay the same size forever, and they never get to ride the adult rides at the amusement park."

Abby contemplated, looking over to her bed as if another person was sitting there, waiting to have their turn to speak. "My friend says you're an idiot."

Mike stares at the spot on the bed, then at Abby. "At least I'm real."

Mike closed the door and headed back into the kitchen. He picked up the phone, dialling Max to see if she could babysit. Mike wouldn't say him and Max were friends. The only time he really saw her was when she was babysitting Abby. Mike was surprised Max hadn't bailed out on him yet since he hasn't been able to pay her. Maybe it was just routine at this point - a call and a promise to pay that never actually manifests. When Mike was in between jobs, he could handle Abby just fine. But now working nightshifts, Max's help was more crucial than ever. Luckily enough for him, Max agreed. 

The minutes ticked by and Abby still hadn't left her room. At this rate, they would definitely be late. Abby was a good kid. Mike knew that. But he didn't want her school life to suffer more than it already does. Abby's teacher was great. She genuinely wanted to see his sister thriving. She was always updating Mike with her progress. Abby was incredible bright, always getting remarkable grades, but she just couldn't seem to connect with the other students. The other kids weren't excluding her or bullying her - they had tried to be friends with her, but when she didn't reciprocate they eventually just gave up. 

Abby finally emerged just before Mike was about to drag her out of her room. With a cold shoulder, she walked straight part Mike and headed for the door, not saying a word. Mike huffed. At least she was out. Abby gazed out the window, watching as other people and cars flew by. Most mornings were a struggle and it seemed like there was nothing Mike could do to help. The line for the school drop off seemed to go on forever. Mike groaned, gripping the steering wheel with annoyance and they moved forward, inch by inch. After what felt like hours, it was finally their turn.

"Abs," Mike said before she could hop out. "Please try to make some friends today."

"I already have friends," Abby retorted and got out of the car. Her brightly coloured backpack stuffed full of paper and crayons swinging behind her as she walked into the school. Mike watched her go, making sure she got inside safely before driving off.

-

Jane, and her rather incompetent looking lawyer, sat opposite Max and her brother. Sparky's diner was the go-to restaurant in this small town. Coffee, pancakes, and delicious lunches. It was hard to beat. The tension in the air was palpable as Max's brother stared down the pair, elbows resting on the table was he waited for someone to make the first move. They all eyed each other in anticipation. But right as Jane was about to open her mouth, an overly-cherry young server stops by their booth. 'Ness', his nametag reads.

"Welcome to Sparky's! Can I set you folks up with some appetizers?" he asks, creased laminated menus in hand. 

As he begins to hand out the menus, Jane gathers them up, shoving them back into his hands. He doesn't look fazed.

"Aw! That's no fun." Ness turns to Jane, "You do realise lunch is the most important meal of the day?"

The table looks confused and Max's brother pipes in, "I thought it was breakfast?"

"Some people say that," Ness explains, "But, y'know, it's just a theory."

Annoyed, Jane ushers him away to begin their discussion. Max was being paid by Jane to search Mike's house under the guise of babysitting. Well, she was meant to be paid. Since Max had found nothing, Jane was refusing to pay them. Max had searched the house top to bottom, looking in every drawer and crevice, but alas there was nothing. Not a single thing that she could use to frame Mike as an unfit guardian. This result displeased Jane. 

"We had a deal," Max argued.

Jane laughed. "Yeah, that you were going to find me hard proof of criminal endangerment."

Doug looked more than uncomfortable. He clutched his brief case to his chest. When Max's brother half-jokingly suggested that they kill Mike, he shot up in his seat. He muttered under his breath that he shouldn't be here, that he shouldn't be hearing any of this. Jane forced him back down, much to his dismay. 

"How about we toss the place?" Max suggests. "He needs this job to look good for the court. He's a security guard. It's his job to make sure nobody gets in."

Jane mulls over the idea for a minute before agreeing. Max and her brother want two thousand dollars as their reward, to this, Jane scoffs. One thousand. Defeated, the two agree. Money is money after all. They leave the diner to set their plan into motion. Doug looked like he's about to have a heart attack.

-

You couldn't help dreading the night ahead. Another cold, slow shift. Six hours usually felt like twelve. You wished there was heating in the building. The thin, cracked walls always let the freezing breeze run through the pizzeria. Even if there was some kind of heating system, it would probably burn the place down. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. You hugged your hoodie tighter to your body, a thick blanket hanging over your shoulders. Like the pizzeria, your apartment was freezing. You could barely afford rent, so paying for heating on top of that was far from a priority. Then in summer, the house was an oven. The jammed windows couldn't open far enough for you to let in a breeze, and the hole-filled curtains did nothing to stop the sun beating in. You didn't know which was worse. 

11:16. It was time to start getting ready. The first step in your pre-work routine was making a hot cup of coffee. There was no way in hell you could get through your shift otherwise. It would help warm you up too. You sipped on the hot beverage, steam flushing your face. You chucked on your vest, adding another layer of warmth. Loose threads hung from the seams and the zip would only go up half way. It was made of a cheap plastic-y material that you could easily rip with your bare hands. You began the drive to Freddy's. Your car was on the verge of death too, another expense you couldn't afford. The check engine light had been on for longer than you'd like to admit. Whenever it managed to start up in the morning felt like a miracle.

You felt your heart drop when you pulled into the parking lot of the pizzeria. A cop car was parked by the door, the officer waiting inside her car. You knew who it was. Vanessa would check in on the place once a week or so. She seemed a bit too invested for your liking. You got out of the car, the cold air chilling you to your bones. 

"Evening Vanessa," you greeted her as she got out of the car. Her usually cheery atmosphere replaced by something much more sinister.

"Evening," she replied. "How was last night?" Vanessa walked up to the gate, tugging on the chain to ensure to was locked. Mike had just arrived, just as shocked as you to see a cop here. He cautiously approached. Vanessa turned to him, surprised to see another security guard. "Who's this?"

"This is Mike," you introduced him. "Raglan hired him as another guard. Yesterday was his first day."

Something changed in Vanessa's expression. She looked Mike up and down before turning to you. "The place got broken into earlier today. Either of you know anything about that?" Vanessa interrogated.

Your stomach turned. You were sure you had locked everything up. Your mind raced. Was there something you had missed? Were you too caught up trying to train Mike that you had forgotten something? "What happened?" you stuttered out.

Vanessa glanced between the two of you. She explained that a group of idiots had broken into the place, trashing it and causing a lot of damage. You were overcome with guilt. Mike watched as the colour drained from your face. Vanessa was very pissed off, arms crossed over her uniformed torso as she narrowed her gaze. "There's two of you here now, there's no way a mistake like this should happen," Vanessa scolded. "I'll be back tomorrow and there better not be any problems." She gave you one last look of disappointment before getting in her car and driving off. 

You avoided Mike's gaze as you opened up the pizzeria. As soon as you stepped inside, you saw just how much damage they had done. Arcade machines were smashed and knocked over, the prize cabinet destroyed, tables and chairs flipped. You winced, biting your lip anxiously. 

"Go set up the monitors," you ordered Mike with a wobbly voice. "I'll start cleaning up here."

Wordlessly, Mike made his way down the vandalised halls to the security office. He glanced back at you, watching as your eyes poured over the mess. Second night and he had already screwed up. Mike had a nagging feeling that it was his fault Freddy's had gotten broken into, but you got all the blame from Vanessa. Even the security office had been attacked. Junk was thrown everywhere from the vandals trying to find anything of value. The rusty metal grid that covered the vent had been pulled off. It looked like it had been bashed in as the thin metals bars were bent and broken. After Mike had switched on the monitors, he began to tidy up the office. He opened up one of the locked, jumping back in fright when the uncanny face of a small clown toy stared back at him. The toys wide eyes and empty smile sent shivers down his spine. Mike turned it around so he wouldn't have to look at it. Inside the locker was a dusty old security vest, the same one you adorned. Mike gave it a shake, years of dust and a couple of moths flying out in the process. He chucked it on over his hoodie. Perfect fit - like someone had left it there just for him. 

Mike walked through the back hallways, trying to find the supply closet. The least he could do was help you clean up the mess. As he searched the musty shelves, he was met with another creepy balloon boy doll. Cursing under his breath, Mike turned it around and pushed it to the very back of the shelf. He still felt it's plastic eyes staring at him. Mike quickly grabbed the vacuum and rushed out. 

You silently swept up the broken glass, keeping your gaze lowered to the floor. Mike quietly made his way over to you, wordlessly beginning to vacuum over the carpet you had cleaned. The vacuum hadn't been used in almost two decades, the cheap plastic that it was made from had yellowed and cracked over time, but it got the job done. Mike continued to glance over at you as you swept. He wanted to express the guilt he felt but the words couldn't find their way out. You began to try moving the tables back into place but struggled with the weight and large size of them. Mike put the vacuum to the side and helped you carry them. 

"I'm sorry," he managed to get out. "It's probably my fault the place got broken into."

You sighed, "Don't blame yourself, Mike. I've been doing this job longer than you. I should've known better." Your voice wobbled as your spoke, holding back tears. There was no way you were going to cry in front of some stranger you had met only last night. 

"It's okay-" Mike tried to comfort you.

"No, it's not okay," you snapped, taking out your frustrations on Mike. "I could get fired over this. I know you don't really give a shit about this job, but I do. I can't afford to lose it."

Mike felt his temper beginning to rise. "I need this job just as much as you do. You don't know shit about me, so don't assume I'm just doing this for fun."

Before you could retort, heavy footsteps echoed from around the corner. The two of you fell silent, listening intently as a robotic whirr accompanied each step. You felt your blood run cold. A large, dark shadow cast itself against the patterned walls. You thought your mind was playing tricks on you. Projected on the wall was the distinct shape of two large rabbit ears. The sounds grew louder as the threat moved closer, gears grinding witch each step it took. Mike grabbed your arm, ushering you to hide beneath one of the tables, hidden away in the shadows. You stayed close to him, barely able to breathe as it moved closer. Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Around the corner turned Bonnie. Its one bright blue fur faded and matted, stained from years of children with grubby pizza-hands touching it. Its head turned with methodical mechanical movement. The usually friendly plastic eyes now bright red, shining with what you can also see as bloodlust. You cover your mouth, hiding a gasp of shock. Never in your weeks here had you seen anything like this. Creepy humming? Random footsteps? Sure. But this was on another level. Instinctively, you move closer to Mike, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. His jaw is clenched, shoulders tense and his eyes are glued on Bonnie. The animatronic slowly makes its way to the main floor. It was looking for something. Someone. Its footsteps shook the ground like an earthquake, kilograms of engineering thudding along. Bonnie walked around the room, stopping right in front of the table you were hiding underneath. Mike reaches his arm across you, making sure you were as far back from it as you could be.

You never realised how big they were up close. Its feet alone were massive, easily bigger than your head. Bonnie wasn't leaving. While you couldn't see it, you could hear the mechanical parts groaning as its head turned around, surveying the room. Your heart was pounding so loud, you were sure it could hear you. The animatronic smelt horrible. It smelt like rot. Like death. Maybe there was old rotten pizza stuck on it somewhere, or maybe a rat had died in it. You wanted to vomit. You clenched your eyes shut, bringing your knees up to your chest.

Mike didn't move, frozen in place. When was it going to leave? Sure, Mike had felt fear before. When his brother was taken from him he felt scared, the anxiety gnawing away at him for the next decade. But this was different. This wasn't being frightened. This was being terrified for your life. This was being in immediate danger. His heart was racing. Time felt like it was at a standstill. The animatronic turned to face the table, it's bulky arms grabbing onto the edge. It was thinking. It knew you were there. Suddenly, a loud shatter echoed from the kitchen. You heard Bonnie turn its head. After what felt like forever, it let go of the table, stomping away to investigate the noise.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The two of you stayed tucked away under the table until you were sure it was gone. Mike left first, slowly standing up to look around. He motioned for you to come out. Anxiously, you left the safety of the table. Quickly but quietly, you both raced to the security room, immediately barricading the door. 

"What the fuck was that?" Mike shouts at you. You couldn't even form a sentence, still in shock. "Did you know about this?"

"No!" you promised. "I didn't know! How could I?"

Mike slouched into the chair, running his hand through his curly brown hair. "That robot bunny just tried to fucking kill us. You've been putting that chair under the door for 'safety', and you're telling me you didn't know?"

You sat down in your chair, hugging yourself for comfort. "I didn't know..." you whisper. "Sometimes there's noises where I think someone's there, but no one is. The chair was just to calm my nerves." Mike looked at you suspiciously. "I promise," you defended, almost on the brink of tears. "If I had known those things could move around like that, do you think I'd still be here?"

Mike checked the time. 5:12am. He spun around in his chair, watching over the monitors intently. There was nothing. No movement. Nothing out of place. Were you both losing it? Maybe there was a carbon monoxide leak and you were both just hallucinating. "We should go," he says. "It doesn't look like they're out there."

"It's not even six yet-"

"I don't care," he cuts you off. "We're not spending another second here."

Mike stood up, slowly creaking open the door and checking down the hallway. He gives you a nod and you carefully follow behind him. The second you saw the door in sight, you both started to run, slamming it behind you and immediately locking up. You follow Mike to his car. It was old, years of sun damage had caused the paint to fade and peel off. The two of you leant against the car, the icy wind stinging your face. 

"I'm sorry," you apologised. "I shouldn't have yelled at you before, and I'm sorry about the bunny. I really didn't know," you whispered.

Mike nodded. "It's whatever. I shouldn't have yelled either. Sorry."

You began to walk to your car. "Will I see you tomorrow?" The thought of coming back shook you to your core, but at least you wouldn't be alone.

"We'll see."

#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt #william afton #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #matthew lillard

[darkdemeter]

HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN #2 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — Here it is, werewolf readers! Been a little busy raccoon with writing this behemoth. Quite the read as you can tell by the word count. Please take care in reading the discretion list because this column is quite graphic and may be potentially triggering for readers.

WORD COUNT — 13.8k

READER DISCRETION — High levels of angst — hurt/comfort — minor sexual interaction, unspecified genitals but use of "groin". (making out. slight dry humping) — high level gore and violence (werewolves are fighting, and that is never clean) — sprouts of fluff moments — trauma/ptsd — mentions of violence and death (WARNING: Unspecified ages, but implied deaths of children and teenagers) — protective reader — aggressive werewolf! reader — reader begins recovery from trauma — some adult language — brief alcohol consumption — minor name calling feat. Tony calling reader "pup" — use of Y/N

PREVIOUS COLUMN — NEXT COLUMN

SUMMARY — Habits are not easy to let go and neither is the past. The team and yourself are sent to Alaska for an undercover op, but it becomes clear to the team that you’re more guard than guide on this mission. Mother Nature herself vouches that you will put your new wisdom to her intended use when the once distant howls have grown close. You will do everything in your nature to protect your pack and your mate. Instinct will take over; and instinct shall turn into habit.

You can’t change what cannot be undone. She wants you to embrace this, yet you fight it,  tooth and claw.

There came this new and sole desire that occurred during the excruciating ordeal of your shift on the full moon last night. 

Only such an experience meant Mother Nature was granting you a new wisdom, that which altered your previous nature, no matter how complicated the human biology was.

By her law, instinct was instinct. 

You splashed cold water onto your face and absorbed the sight of yourself in the mirror. Often you caught sight of the beast beneath your eyes in the reflective surface. And many times it scared you how close it always lingered. Ever watchful and biding its time.

How could Wanda see you as more than you realise? 

You caught the shine of amber as it shimmered across your eyes in your reflection. Right below the surface of your own skin, a predator resided with unbridled force. You shook your head to rid the intrusive need to let it out. 

‘It is done now. She’s preparing me for something.’

Your hands gripped the sides of your sink, your white, strained knuckles ached with the pressure that threatened to crack the ceramic basin. 

‘They wouldn’t understand it. Wanda wouldn’t understand it.’ 

A knock on your room’s door caught you off guard. That rarely happened with your keen senses. Your hands released their hold on the sink.

“Y/N?” Your ears pricked at the accented tongue of her voice, “you finished packing?”

You don’t even think about your actions because it felt natural to approach her. To be close to her. You’ve already opened your door when you came to your senses 

when a pair of bright eyes blink up at you. Fuck, you can’t control your racing heart whenever she smiled. 

You’re almost afraid she’ll read your mind again and discover what she’d be better off never knowing. 

She saw you as more than you realised but could she possibly understand the idea that you saw her anymore differently than you did before?

‘Mate.’

“I came to let you know everyone is waiting for us. Can’t leave our guide behind now.” 

Her eyes momentarily fluttered down before they lifted to stare into the captivity of yours. 

“Y-yeah,” you bit back a snarl at the stutter of your response, “I’m ready.”

“Good. Could you help me with my bags?” Her eyes looked hopeful for the short moment you left her unanswered before you nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Of course!”

And that’s why you now fought so hard against Mother Nature. She instilled within your agonised cries, broken bones and reformed muscle what every werewolf anticipated: a soulmate tie. 

When many were overcome with a pure and primal feeling of joy, you were consumed by trepidation. 

Nevertheless, you walked Wanda to her room and retrieved her bags - much to her protest, you gave a wolfish smirk to hide the near breathlessness in your lungs and rapid beating of your heart - and joined the others on the Quinjet for your mission in Alaska.

Where a wolf calls home.

“So tell us, Wolfie. What’s the whole story with you and Alaska?” Natasha spoke up from the co-pilot's seat, Steve sat next to her, his focus on flying the jet though her question piqued his interest. “Did you grow up there?”

A few hours into the flight and all was smooth sailing until her question made the hair on the back of your neck stand. 

When you mentally prepared yourself, you turned your eyes in her direction.

She’d turned to peer over her shoulder at you with a quirk in her brow, curious to Fury’s designation as the team’s guide.

“Ah,” you huffed and scratched at your neck haphazardly, another habit you shared with disdain, “something Fury left out of my file, I take it?”

“Well, yeah. Your file has barely anything regarding background. Only when you moved to the city and your skill set mainly.” Your lips pulled into a thin line with Sam’s deliverance of this news. 

Your nose wrinkled at the scent that tinged the air like ash and smoke. A dark tone to their concern. Were they worried you were hiding something?

You simply shrugged to ease some of the tension that built around you and your teammates. “Just spent some years there before I moved on to live in the city. As a werewolf, you tend to learn terrain quickly, no matter how long it’s been.” 

Natasha nodded but something in the way she pursed her lips made the tight coil in your chest grow, almost to the point it strangled out a whimper from you. 

“Alaska is a really beautiful place,” you sighed and your lips stretch to form a smile, “if we have enough time, I’ll happily show you guys around. 

“I’d like that very much,” Wanda said from her seat across from yours. Your smile turned shy under her gaze, a flutter of her glowing red magic used to merely entertain herself made your heart warm. 

An odd sensation as if her very magic was tied to your heart. 

Steve hummed out from his place, his eyes wandered to Tony as if to hear out his thoughts on the matter. Tony shrugged. 

“Just don’t forget we’re here for a mission, not a ‘walk-with-nature’ getaway trip.”

The small assembled team nodded and mumbled amongst themselves. 

“Alright, Stark. But I am personally not leaving Alaska without playing a proper game of fetch with Y/N.”

Your chin tilted down to conceal the smirk on your lips. Wanda was surely determined with a tone like that. You briefly caught her eyes and the wide grin plastered on her face.

If Mother Nature gave you one chance to change yours and Wanda’s - unbeknownst to her - new fate, would you truly want to?

The Quinjet landed without trouble thanks to Steve’s impeccable piloting skills, though you could tell Sam and Tony may have had a few hundred pointers for the captain. 

The engine was turned off and everyone gathered their bags together. You reached into your suit pocket for the small pill case, taking two of them. When Sam gave you a questioning look, you mumbled something about it being medicine for your headache. 

The ramp lowered and the frozen breeze brought most of your teammates to a shiver. You and the super soldiers hadn’t so much as flinched. 

You were the first to step down the ramp and greet the snow with your feet, the deep crunch beneath you a welcomed whirlwind of contentment.

‘Home.’

The others followed behind you, bags adorned, they took in the marvel of their new surroundings. Below a blue and sunny sky littered with clouds, the platform was mostly covered by the ensuing white that covered the landscape. 

Down the trail that led alongside the woods, a large house laid vacant in the distance right near the edge of the frozen lake. 

“Quite the walk,” Tony huffed with a cluster of windy ice before his mouth. Snow already littered in his dark hair. 

Your gaze followed the span of the ice until it reached the far off cluster of trees on the other side. Beyond that, the mountain peaks contrasted against the sky.

“See that mountain up there?” You pointed at the tallest one and your team all turned their sights to where your hand directed. 

“I’ve been up there. A sort of tradition to race up to the top just as the sun grazed the horizon.” 

The memories were distant when you moved to the city. But now they flooded back like an avalanche. 

“All the way up there, huh?” Steve asked, mouth agape as he assessed the frosty white peak. “By yourself?”

“No, with my siblings.” You answered that too quickly and too honestly. The frosted mist faded before your lips into the air with your words, unable to take them back. 

“Wait, you never mentioned you have siblings,” said Bucky with a furrowed brow. 

“Oh, I guess I never did…” Your once smile faded from your face and your eyes were overcome with that pain that stained the snow you walked upon. You felt the stares against your back and you huffed aloud, shoulders sagged.

“Come on, we should get settled in,” you said with a forced smile, the cold for once stung harshly against your face. It burnt your skin.

The others nodded and you led the way down the trail. The sun would set soon, and it was unwise to wander around after sun down. But that sole purpose that fuelled your soul burned deep within you like a campfire amidst a snow storm. 

You wouldn’t allow any harm to befall your team. You’d sooner die than let anything happen to them. To her. 

As you walked with a determined stride towards the lodge, Wanda’s warm fingers swept across your knuckles.

‘I’m here for you, if you want to talk.’

You swallowed thickly and the inkling of your head nodding seemed to answer her as her eyes scanned you.

“So how did Fury get this safe house?” Clint asked with a deep, and huffy breath, his hand adjusted the bag on his shoulder. 

“It belonged to a family many years ago. But it’s been vacant for some time and Fury gained ownership of it.” 

“You seem very familiar with the safe house.” 

Shit. Was she reading your mind as you spoke? 

You walked up the steps onto the front porch, key in hand but your hand lingered on the door handle with an iron grip. 

You stood locked in place for what felt like an eternity, eyes scornful as they glared daggers into the wooden and glass panelled door. 

“I’d worked alongside the family. Did some odd jobs here and there, kind of became a family friend.” 

you unlocked the front door and promptly  stood aside with a gesture to the others before you, the door held open. You offered them all a kind smile the moment your eyes found Wanda’s, the sharp lines in your brows eased even when in hers, you saw the glimmer of concern.

“Come on in.” 

It was safe to say the majority of your party were relieved to step inside the lodge and turn on the thermostat. Not that it was ever much in use back in the day, you were a little surprised that it still managed after all this time. 

While the others took in their temporary residence, you couldn’t help but let your eyes rake over the emptiness that took place. A shadow of its former self.

Your hands ran over the hearth’s sill, clean of any dust but once, it held the memories of a past you left behind. Each frame a moment in time which you treasured beyond belief with the passed family.

Now you stared at the unlit hearth. Barren of those memories. You thought it was for the best. Fury did well with the clean up.

‘Are you okay?’ 

You looked towards where Wanda stood by the L shaped lounge, arms folded over her front and fingers knitted together; her nails dragged across her knuckles and it made you cringe from the thought of her discomfort.

‘Yeah, I’m alright.’ 

“So how are we doing the rooms?” Natasha asked after she finished her investigation of the kitchen right across from the lounge room. 

“We will do pairs,” you answered curtly, yet you still feigned a smile even if they could tell it was fake. 

“Follow me.”

You only hoped they wouldn’t say anything that delved deeper than the surface. Only the wolf awaited them there.

You hadn’t expected the return to Alaska to hit you in such a way. And to add atop of it all, your senses were at an all time high, dialled up to eleven. You felt far more sensitive than usual. 

More easy to falter. Easier to piss off.

Everyone followed you up the flight of stairs to the second floor. 

The hallway was less narrower than you remembered, it could fit two people shoulder to shoulder fairly well. Rooms lined the hallway down towards the singular pair of double doors at the end.

“These are the rooms, take your pick. This is the bathroom here, the master bedroom has an ensuite,” you explained to them, your tone rapid fire. 

“Wanda and Natasha, you can take the master bedroom.” You opened the double doors and it took everything in you to prevent the tears. And yet a sad smile pulled at the corners on your lips.

You could still smell them after all this time. It was like they never left. 

“Are you sure?” Natasha asked rather sharply, almost offended you offered it up so casually, given your relationship with the family.

“I don’t mind bunking with Clint is all, if that’s your concern. You and Wanda can take the master.”

Natasha’s tone was one you knew well enough for your months with the Avengers. Firm. Bossy. She wasn’t asking, she was telling. Your breath goes still in your lungs and your face became heated, a red hue bloomed in your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

You and Wanda together in a room? By yourselves?

“I— er, I don’t—“ you’re a fucking stuttering mess again and you clear your throat, the sound more of a growl than anything. 

“I don’t mind bunking with you, Wolfie!” Wanda assured with a light and gentle smile, you could see easily she was holding back a flustered giggle given the faint colour in her cheeks.

Though you wished to chalk that up to the cold still settled in her bones beneath the layers. 

“Then that’s settled!” Natasha flashed you both a wink and you whined lowly, involuntarily on your part but no less made Wanda giggle freely this time.

“I’m not sleeping in the same room as Tony,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes found Steve’s to indicate he’d chosen his roommate. 

Tony huffed with a roll of his eyes. “Likewise, cyborg.”

“Okay, boys. Keep the peace. Everyone settle in and come downstairs for dinner in fifteen minutes. That’s an order!”

“I thought I was in charge!” Tony called after Natasha down the hallway, Sam patted his shoulder. “Yeah, only on report. We know who’s really directing this mission.” 

Steve and Bucky took the room that belonged to the second eldest sibling, further down the hall, Natasha and Clint claimed the room next to theirs; the twin’s old room and Sam and Tony chose the room opposite Bucky and Steve’s, the third eldest’s room. 

When you looked down that hallway, you could see the kids in that hallway again, their feet pattering against the wooden planks in their rush of excitement. 

The last bedroom, however, was off limits. Under lock and key. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Fury put everything in there and put a lock on it. 

It was for the best. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wanda asked after everyone had gone to their chosen rooms to unpack and settle in. 

You closed the doors with a heavy sigh, forehead pressed into the cool, wooden surface.

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, “yeah, I’m just… not feeling too good. Feel different…” 

Wanda took a few steps forward but was paused in place by the command in your voice. “Don’t…” 

Your vocals were contorted into a deep, husky drawl as the wolf shined through enough to reflect in your eyes with an ominous glow. Your claws dug into the skin of your palms to the point they almost drew blood. 

Her eyes drifted down to see your balled fists and her hands nervously fiddled together once more, you waited to see the red hue of her magic.

Was she trying to read your mind again?

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ you retracted yourself, getting a grip of the wolfish desire to let go. You had to keep it together. 

Your heart rapped hard in your chest, your claws sank back and the amber glow faded from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Wanda.”

‘I’m sorry, Mate.’

“It’s fine, really, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. Just know I’m here for you if you want to talk. We all are.” 

There was too much on your mind to simply talk. No. You needed action. Talking about it would only lead to tears and a breakdown. 

“Hey,” Wanda closed the gap between you both and you fought between doing the same and taking a retreating step. You were locked in place a second time.

Her hand was delicate as she placed it on your arm to give an assuring squeeze. 

“Don’t fight it. Whatever it is that’s troubling you. I want to help you.”

‘I want your help. I want you.’

You feel like you can only nod in reply. Your words all jumped in the back of your throat, a knot ready to burst the moment you try to utter a single one of those words.

She took the daring leap and wrapped her arms around your torso.

The instinct Mother Nature had sewn into your wisdom made your arms wrap around Wanda, and you tugged her in until she was flush against you. 

Her scent filled your nose and your eyes softened with a rumble reverberating against her chest, the glisten of tears not long to follow as your eyes became coated. How you wished you had the courage to tell her this new desire. This need to protect her; claim her.

But she wouldn’t understand it. Those who did not share their very soul with the wolf couldn’t possibly grasp the identity of such serious and sacred matters that kept your species alive and the old ways honoured. 

Not often were humans and werewolves bound together by Mother Nature’s soulmate tie. Often the wolf was spurned because their mate didn’t understand that their rejection held far greater consequences than hurt feelings.

Perhaps that was why you wanted to protect Wanda so much. Not because she was your destiny or to protect yourself from getting hurt.

You were no stranger to getting hurt.

It was to protect her from what you would become and the guilt she would harbour on herself. 

“Thank you, Wanda. For being here,” you sighed after a long moment, time having felt dragged on for years as you held her in a tight hug. You didn’t want to let her go. Not now or ever. 

“Of course, Wolfie. You’re my friend.” 

You whined softly but the corner of your lips turned up into a faint smile, conflicted between pain and relief. “I like that…”

‘Mate…’ 

You and Wanda had been the last to join everyone downstairs for dinner. Natasha and Clint mostly tutted and bickered with each other as they slaved away with dinner, Wanda opted to help out when she had a taste test.

Tony and Bucky had helped themselves to one of the finely aged whiskey bottles in the cabinet near the dining table and Steve took interest in the small collection of books arranged by volume, while Sam took in the terrain from the wide, floor to ceiling windows that looked out into the growing dark woods.

Everyone was growing accustomed to their surroundings in the house. This was good, it meant they felt comfortable. That’s what you wanted, had hoped for. You couldn’t exactly say the same for you, but there was that feeling of home.

You joined Sam by the window, a cold bottle of beer curled into the palm of your hand. It didn’t taste the best, you’d never liked the brand, but it was what was on hand.

Alcohol had a weird effect on werewolves anyway so you opted to stay away from it as much as possible. 

You took a swig with a grunt from your unsettled gut and Sam smirked at you. “You doing alright, Wolfie?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Just fine. Beer’s shit though, I don’t know how you guys like it.”

The sneer on your face as you glared down at the bottle only made Sam chuckle. “Honestly, it does taste bad, but I don’t fancy myself the connoisseur.” Sam, subtly as he might, gestured towards Tony and Bucky. “Unlike them.”

You huffed at that, a small grin on your lips. Sam was a good man to talk to whenever you felt like the world around you was caving in with a purpose to destroy you. 

Even more, when he’d talk about his family, you got immersed in his stories; as though you were there too. 

“I wouldn’t trust Tony to drink a shot of dyed bleach and tell the difference.”

Sam’s fist was brought to his face, a mouthful of his drink chuffed back when he snorted so he wouldn’t choke. 

You grin impossibly more and clapped his shoulder. “Hey, I’m not the best at jokes, how did you even find that funny?” 

“Something funny, pup?” Tony asked over the rim of his glass. Your eyes met his and you shook your head. “Just told a dull joke,” you replied, “like your taste buds…” 

Only Sam heard your muttering and once he was free of his mouthful of beer, he laughed loudly. The sound faded after a moment and you both stared out into the woodland.

“It’s really peaceful out here,” Sam said finally. You nodded but you feared something in you couldn’t entirely agree with him. 

It had been peaceful once. But now there lingered something eerie. It made you too alert to easily relax as the others did. Even if they too could sense the same thing as you, their scent gave nothing away. “I thought the same as you once.”

Sam looked at you with a troubled, confused furrow in his brow. His lips pulled down into a frown. Sam opened his mouth, no doubt to ask the question you already saw in his eyes, but Natasha’s announcement cut him off.

“Dinner’s ready!” 

Clint and Wanda served up everyone’s plates with the spaghetti bolognaise. The food was good on account of Wanda adding just a little bit more spice and salt to the sauce, and of course what was dinner without conversation.

Talk about smaller topics were easier to digest with your food. How you didn’t expect it to take a turn that made your hand halt before you could take another bite of your food.

“Is there anything dangerous out here, Y/N?”

“It’s Alaska and we’re in the middle of unsettled territory. Of course there are dangers out here,” you answered Sam with a casual shrug. 

Not many predators roamed so close to the house when you were here with the family. Just the odd bear once or twice. You glanced up to meet Sam’s unsure stare.

He didn’t believe you. 

“Just as a safety precaution, when we’re not on a mission, stay within the border of the property,” you began, “I’ll show you guys around tomorrow. At night, I ask that you stay inside. If you do go outside, let me know so I can come with you.” 

“We’re capable of holding our own against a drifter moose or yogi bear, pup,” Tony snarked lightly with another gulp of his whiskey. 

“I know,” you bite with a tone a little too harshly, the beds of your fingernails felt bruised and ached as your eyes burnt. “But just… please, just do that for me, yeah?”

You looked around the table and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw heads nod. “Of course, Y/N,” Natasha assured. 

“Good. Other than that, you have free roam of the house, minus the locked room upstairs. Just the family’s old belongings.” 

The others nodded again and your eyes met Wanda’s. she could see something deeply troubled you. You were usually so calm and collected on missions, barely flinching when bullets fired at you in a frenzied spray. Sure, your aggression was a feat unmatched in the heat of battle but it was what made you strong.

Deadly.

Effective. 

You were Mother Nature’s definition of safety and danger. An apex predator. 

But now, something in you had visibly switched. Gone was the fearsome animal that could maul and maim without restraint but one. Your confident smirk and wicked disregard for your life - despite your actions to protect your teammates - had contorted into a concerning frown and a strained, husk of a drawl. An underlying threat to unleash the wolf if steps were not taken carefully. 

Dinner resumed, albeit, a little less talking and a lot more tension. You finally excused yourself after you promptly thanked Natasha, Clint and Wanda for the food. 

You knew everyone watched you leave but Wanda’s eyes pierced through you like nothing else ever could. 

The wind swept across your back and through your hair with a hollow whisper in the night. The pier was a spot you went to to think when you felt troubled. The Northern Lights danced across the black canvas littered with stars and a bright, fading full moon. 

The frozen lake offered a different ambience with the rest of nature. A deep, echoing boom across the frozen surface could be heard from the water beneath the layer of ice. 

Boots intruded on the wooden boards of the pier as they gently - calmly - thundered towards you.

“Wolfie,” one accented tongue said so beautifully you thought for a moment an angel greeted you. Startled with a gasp, you spun your head to look in the direction of her voice.

“Wanda,” you greeted with a rumble.

‘Mate.’

“What are you doing out here?” 

She rolled her shoulders back and stepped closer. Then another step. The post behind you greeted your back then. 

“I came out here to find you. May I join you?”

You nodded, the action more of a nervous quiver than anything, Wanda smiled and stood by your side. Her shoulder brushed along your arm and you felt the air in your lungs dissipate. 

“You left dinner so abruptly. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I’m alright.” You stared off into the distance to keep your eyes away from Wanda’s who you knew analysed you now. Her scent filled you and smothered out all the rest. You couldn’t smell the fresh wetness of the snow, the rich, earthly smell of the pines, nor the herd of the elk that traversed the wilderness across the vast lake. 

You could only smell her. That intoxicating scent of rose and vanilla that her shampoo couldn’t conceal from you.

The vanilla was stronger. She was in a state of unease. Worry. 

Your eyes slowly drifted from the mountains to her. Her gaze must have left you to also see where it was your sights wandered off to. 

“You don’t believe me?” You asked and she sighed, unable to meet your eyes. “Not really. I know something is wrong, you’re encumbered by this fear and it’s driving me crazy that I can’t— that I can’t…”

Your brows were pulled into a hard formation and your mouth fell agape. The struggle within her to voice her thoughts made your heart wrench and break. “Hey…” 

That instinct took over again, your arm  wrapped around her waist and you didn’t hesitate to pull her to you. 

It felt nice for Wanda to be held like this. The cold slithered beneath the layers used to keep it out, only to find the heat of your body to immediately nullify the chill. 

“It’s hard to explain, Wanda. I’m in a very difficult position right now and I fear what might happen to those around me.” 

“I told you that I’m here to talk, Y/N. I won’t judge, I promise. Please just… tell me.” 

Her head rested under your chin, her hands rested against your chest. It all felt so intimate. You wanted to cave and tell her everything on your mind. She was your mate and she had a right to know.

But would she understand?

“Wanda, you’re…,” you trailed off as something thick coated the back of your throat, “you’re…”

‘My mate. Just say it, tell her she is your mate!’

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, Wanda’s head lifting with it. Her cheek nuzzled against you. This was your chance. It was now or never. 

“Wanda, you’re my m—“

An announcing howl reverberated in the far distance like wind moved through a hollow. 

Your blood turned ice cold. The searing burn in your eyes returned with that striking, animalistic glow of amber. 

“What is it?” Wanda had asked but you didn’t answer. You glared off in the direction where the howl came from. That sounded haunted you; hunted you. 

“Get inside and don’t come out. No matter what,” you commanded beneath a baritone growl. Wanda looked at you, jaw dropped and eyes wide. You could smell it on her. Vanilla. 

Confusion. Fear. 

“But—“

“Now.”

You left no room for argument. Not when it came to her safety. Not when the wolf shone through the amber that danced ferociously in your eyes. There she could see a semblance of that old you. 

Protective. Dangerous. 

She made her way back towards the house but she stopped at the end of the pier and turned to look at you once more. Her bright, glossy eyes pleaded with you to follow her. You watched her and nodded for her to go on, that you wouldn’t be too far behind.

‘Promise you’re right behind me.’

‘I promise. Now go.’

She rushed off towards the front porch and entered the house as the wind was bitter against your back again; harsher than before.

You wanted nothing more than to end this. Your arm rested against the post, claws digging deep into your palm. You’d make it painful but to strike now would only invite conflict so early into your mission.

It would complicate things all because you couldn’t keep yourself in check.

A confirmation that even with your positives there came your negatives; unpredictable, bloodthirsty and dangerous to the team.

Dangerous to Wanda. 

You lowered your arm and drove your fist hard into the post with a pained grunt. You promised Wanda you were right behind her and what you planned on doing was only going to do the opposite. 

You saw the fear in her eyes. You couldn’t put her through anything else if you came out of this fight scathed and bruised. No less, the team would be suspicious.

You’d have to wait. 

Wanda waited up for you, no matter the hour it was now, she wouldn’t rest until she knew you were safe. The red hue of her magic glowed in the darkness of the room, the only other source of light was one of the twin lamps on the bedside table. 

Her head shot up and her magic ceased when she heard the doors open to your shared room, your form emerged from the dark hallway and promptly closed the doors behind you.

“Y/N,” she gasped your name and sat up on her knees, mattress dipping beneath her.

Your eyes met hers, amber flickering just faintly behind your pupils. With a growl, your face goes flush. Wanda was dressed down into nothing but an oversized shirt and what you chalked up to be her underwear. 

“H-hey,” you choked out as your hand rubbed the back of your neck. Your eyes darted elsewhere to keep your gaze - that now festered with a hunger - away from Wanda.

‘Fucking hell!’

“What?”

“What?” Your eyes widened as they stared into hers, you fought the tempting urge to let your gaze travel down her body.

Was this the work of your soulmate tie or your little crush? 

Wanda tilted her head curiously, her nose scrunched a little as the corner of her lips turned up. You appeared less troubled by whatever it was before. Now you were… you.

That you, whenever she would walk into the same room you occupied. That you, that often asked her how she was doing and complimented her. 

Her flustered wolf with the red ball. 

“I’m good, I just er—“ you glanced towards the ensuite bathroom with a wave of your hand. “I’m just gonna, ya know, get ready for bed.”

“Okay.” Wanda let out a light giggle. You were quick to gather your change of clothes and hurried into the bathroom. You may have taken a little longer than you’d have liked, but you had to get your bearings together before you re-entered that bedroom. 

‘To have her and mark her right now— no, no, none of that! She’s your friend…

Mate…

Fuck.’

You face-palmed yourself with another growl. The faint glimmer of the wolf behind your eyes had now brightened once more but with a newfound interest.

‘I was so close to telling her. I missed my chance.

Could tell her now…

No. Ain’t doing that.’ 

You walked out of the bathroom to find Wanda settled in bed and under the covers much to the conflict of your relief and disappointment. You climbed into bed beside her, being sure to leave a good amount of space between you both. 

Was she really happy to share a room with you for the duration of your mission? 

You flicked off the lamp and laid back against the pillow with a heavy, tired sigh. Both your arms rested underneath your head. 

“Wolfie?” Wanda’s voice whispered into the darkness. You hum in response. “I’m a little cold…”

You lifted your head slightly to look at her, able to see every detail on her face in the dark. A fine trait to have until you woke up first thing with the fucking sun in your eyes. 

It’s why you opted to always have the curtains drawn closed.

“The thermostat is a bit rusty, but I could get you an extra blanket if you’d like?”

She shook her head, fiery hair and cheek nuzzling into her pillow. A faint, shy smile on her plump lips. Lips you wanted so badly to kiss.

“I don’t want to trouble you with that.” 

You raised a brow at that. Why did she bring it up if she didn’t want you to resolve it?

Before you could say anything, she moved closer into your side, her arm curled over your stomach. 

Your muscles tensed as her cheek laid where your shoulder and neck met. Anything you did want to say completely went out the window of your thought process. 

“Much better,” she sighed almost silently, her breath even and slow. Your arm wrapped over her shoulder and Wanda relaxed more against your side.

“You good?” You asked, albeit hesitantly. She softly hummed in return and you couldn’t restrain your smile. 

By the soft thump of her heartbeat and her quiet breaths, she’d fallen asleep quickly. The warmth of your body must have really helped her.

You turned your head and your nose brushed against her scalp, lips hovering over the crown of her hairline. “Good night…”

‘Mate.’

You awoke to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. New voices that didn’t belong to anyone on your team. You grumbled as you sat up, arms pulled up to stretch your muscles. 

That’s when you realised the bed was vacant beside you. A piece of paper sat on Wanda’s pillow and you plucked it, reading the delicate handwriting.

‘Didn’t want to wake you. Come downstairs when you’re awake, Wolfie! P.S you were really warm and comfy’

You huffed at that, a smirk plastered on your tired features. For a moment you’d forgotten about the strange voices until you put the letter aside.

You frowned and your glare landed on the closed doors.

You stood up and silently, you opened the doors. You moved equally as quietly down the hallway until you reached the top of the stairs, thankfully you were obscured from sight on the first floor.

“What a wonderful place you have here. So, you lot just moved in?”

“Yep,” Steve said with a chuckle, “we all pitched in together to start fresh from the city. We’d heard good things about Alaska, stunning views and a lot of opportunities.” 

You applauded Steve’s skill to act like a civilian. A true and natural actor when it came to undercover ops.

Too bad your rather aggressive nature tended to give you a bad impression on people. It’s why you were often a background actor. Someone who was passing through, someone who wasn’t a permanent fixture to the attention of your targets.

Exactly the reason why you hid upstairs and eavesdropped. 

The man downstairs gave an amused hum. “And a lot of game,” he mused, you could hear the test in his voice.

Yes, you knew that voice. 

“Oh yeah, quite the trophies hunters claim up here. We’re quite the group ourselves, James particularly.”

‘Oh, Steve.’

You could smell the sudden change in Bucky’s scent. You rolled your eyes. 

“Oh?”

“Mm, when I’m up to it. I only go after the best game when it’s trophy season.”

“Then why don’t we go hunting together this weekend, huh? It is game season and I think it’d help break the ice as neighbours.“

You stiffened in your place, back rigid against the wall. You smelt it in the air. Each one of your teammates had a sense of unease. They must’ve known something was up, this man - these people - were undoubtedly your targets; drawn in just as Fury had predicted.

Only, he didn’t disclose what they were with the others. Only you knew. 

“Neighbour?” Sam asked and the man laughed. 

“That’s right! Over the mountain ridge out that way. A lodge like this one, you can’t miss it.”

“Sure, we might come by. Any particular spots for good game?” Tony asked, he’d actually fooled you for a second there with how invested he sounded in the idea of hunt and game.

“This valley is quite the place for hunting, actually. The best.”

Your eyes screwed shut, your mind slowly slipping away into that dark space you’d purposefully left behind. 

You wished they’d just leave.

“So it’s just you seven here? Nobody else?” He asked and your breath froze. 

“Nope, just us,” Wanda answered. 

“I see… hmm,” he replied, his response slow before a second silence befell him. You heard him clear his nasal before he shyly said, “Apologies, the cold season tends to make my nose sensitive. Well then, I’d best be going before the wife hangs my head over the hearth. Be seeing you, neighbours and welcome to Alaska.” 

You breathed out a sigh of relief when he and the men with him left. Your team bid their farewells to your neighbours and the front door closed behind your departing guests.

Your team was in danger.

‘And it’s my fucking fault!’

Werewolves don’t get sensitive to the cold. You lot were basically self-established heating machines to withstand the cold climates.

No. He’d sniffed you out and your pills to hide your wolf scent had worn off from yesterday. 

Your scent was known and he knew that his new neighbours had a little secret of their own. The muscles around your mouth and nose twitch, teeth clenched hard together as a rumble vibrates in your chest. 

How could you be so careless? You could smell them before you even opened your bedroom door and yet you failed to keep your own scent hidden. 

“Well, that was something,” Natasha huffed and you heard Clint grunt in an agreeable fashion. 

“You can say that again. The guy had a weird look in his eye when he spoke about the whole hunting thing.”

“I don’t think he hunts ordinary animals,” Bucky drawled, voice laced with his deep-rooted suspicion. He was right to be and you were glad he - or anyone on your team - didn’t fall for the facade.

They hunted animals to keep people off their scents but elk, bears and beavers weren’t their preferred quarry.

They prided themselves in hunting their own kind. A sick, perverted desire to slaughter other packs. Not only that, they had a sickening obsession with hunting humans. To do things no person should be subjected to.

Mother Nature scorned such vile behaviour with hatred beyond words. 

And this pack had connections to a Hydra resurgence group that intended to operate within Alaska. 

They had to be stopped and your temper was running short. Sooner or later you were gonna wolf out and you wanted the snow to be stained red with that pack’s blood. 

You should have done so last night, keeping your cover be damned.

You finally decided to head downstairs, the necessity to conceal your footsteps no longer mattered. 

All eyes fell to you and you waved in response to the uttered good mornings and greetings. 

“I take it you heard all that upstairs?” Tony asked you, doing you the courtesy of getting a cup of coffee ready for you. You nodded with a snarl, “yeah, and we’re gonna need a new plan.”

“Why?” Steve asked, brows knitted together as he leaned against the wall. Tony passed you the cup of steaming coffee. 

You took a gulp of it before your eyes looked to Steve and the others. You were silent, gaze elsewhere as your thumb massaged the handle of your mug. 

“What aren’t you telling us, Y/N?” Natasha asked from her place at the dining table, her own mug nestled against her palm. Still, you didn’t answer. 

“Because they know I’m here.” That’s all you said. What you intended to say. Did they truly need to know that they were dealing with werewolves? Probably, but you had other plans. 

“How? We told them it was just us,” Sam argued. You only shook your head. “They know I’m here. We need a new plan quickly. They’re not gonna wait until the weekend now.”

They didn’t like your answer, or rather, lack of answers. 

“You’re still hiding something from us.” You growled over the rim of your cup. Steve was pushing it. “If there is something about these guys that you know about, you need to tell us.” 

You placed your cup down on the countertop, hunched over on your stool. “Werewolves don’t get sick little noses because of the cold, Captain. The only thing that makes us sick are infections from wounds and poisons engineered from wolfsbane and silver. To which, Hydra has been known to have an abundance of.” 

They wanted the truth and you gave it to them on a platter. You allowed them to have their stunned silence, no matter how suffocated it made your nose feel. 

“You mean—“

“He could smell me, Tony.” Your eyes slowly rolled to meet his and for the first time since you met the billionaire, you saw the colour drain from his face as he stared into your eyes. 

“He’s the same damn thing I am and because of that, that leaves us in a very compromised position.” 

Another wave of silence filled the open space. You downed the rest of your coffee in a few gulps. You couldn’t even process the taste. 

“What do we do?” You heard Bucky ask from behind you. You turned to see him stare at you, blue eyes piercing into you to get the answer they needed. Wanda stood next to him.

She’d been quiet this whole time and that fear wedged itself sharply into your heart. To see the uncertainty of the mission because it had already gone sideways. 

“The whole guide shit was only half true. Fury sent me in as a guard,” you began, “but if you’re asking me what I really think we should do is get you guys back to headquarters.”

“What do you mean? Y/N, we’re not going to leave you behind. We’re going to complete this mission together.” Steve was pissed that you’d suggest such a thing. 

“We do have two capable super soldiers, an enhanced witch who can move things with her mind, an ex-spy, two mediocre talents at best and myself: the brilliant genius that I am,” Tony said. How you wanted to slap the arrogance from his head so hard. “And also a werewolf. What could go wrong?”

You shook your head again, tongue running over your teeth with a tsk. “You don’t get it, Stark. This pack has been here for many years. They know the terrain better than any of you. They will use that to their advantage. On top of that, they have ties to the Hydra resurgence. Tony, if I don’t get you guys out of here, there will be no getting out of here.” 

You turned to the others as you stood from your stool, your eyes coated in a hot, watery layer. 

“These werewolves are not your ordinary pack. They are literal hunting dogs for Hydra. You’ve all seen Bucky as the Winter Soldier…”

You didn’t wish to bring it up, not to see the pain in those blue eyes of his. Bucky and you seemed to get along quite well. You both understood each other. His time with Hydra was not something you brought up lightly; you had a point to make. They couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. They hadn’t experienced what you did. 

You needed to get your team out of Alaska because they were yours to protect. They were your pack.

You take a deep breath in, your eyes scanned each awaiting face until they landed on Wanda. 

“Now imagine that type of scenario, but times it by ten. You have to trust me on this one. If I stay behind, I can fend them off while you guys get home and get reinforcements.” 

“No, Y/N…,” you heard Wanda whisper with a shaken breath. You didn’t want to see the tears in her eyes, but you turned anyway to face her. 

“Wanda, you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into with this pack… but I do. What they did to the family that lived here is something I will not see happen again. Not to you.”

What remained of that day all felt like a blur. You’d all discussed the new plan and now, after two days of waiting, you were going to execute the escape plan. 

The howls from the woods had gotten closer each night. Their arrival was just as you had said. They weren’t going to wait until the weekend. 

“I don’t like this plan, Y/N,” Wanda said, voice quivering in her throat, “what if something bad happens to you while we’re gone? What if they kill you?” 

You shook your head. “They won’t kill me. I won’t make it easy for them.”

Wanda scowled at this and she rounded the bed to where you were. She placed a hand over yours, clenched together between your thighs. 

“This isn’t about making it difficult for them, this is about your survival. You said it yourself, these werewolves aren’t like any other. They’re different because of what Hydra did to them.”

Your jaw clenched tightly at her words. Her soft skin against yours made your hand tingle, her breath so close to beating along the apple of your cheek. 

“But so am I,” you said lowly. You turned your chin towards Wanda, her eyes searched your face and your uttered words for some semblance of understanding. 

“I… I still don’t like this idea. Just come back with us, please…” Tears wept down her cheeks and she didn’t hide the small sniffle. 

“It has to be this way, Wanda.” You stood up and pulled her into your chest without hesitation, her arms immediately encircled around your torso. 

“This is personal. What they did to—“ you grimaced at the memory. The blood that splattered the walls and the snow alike. Carnage like no other you’d seen stained the house secretly. The clean-up may have hidden the history but your memory did not let it go.

It couldn’t. The only way the nightmares would stop is if you uprooted it from the source. 

“What they did to this family - and more - is unforgivable. I have to be the one to do this. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, you’re my—“

This fucking soulmate tie. Why was it so difficult for you to tell her? Maybe she was right, you could possibly get killed and she would never know the truth because you were too scared to tell her.

Your arms squeezed around her a little tighter, hands quivering as they balled into fists until your knuckles were white and your claws unsheathed from your nail beds. 

“I’m what?” 

“I-I’m just…”

‘Scared.’

“Scared of what?” Her words made the air gasp from your lungs. You blanked your mind to shield it from her reading anything more. You just held her close. It was all what you felt capable of. With her head resting against your chest, she was able to hear the bombardment of your heartbeat. 

“I can’t say it,” you answered but Wanda shook her head. She was done letting this fear eat away at you from the inside.

“Tell me, or I’m going in there,” she ordered firmly, her hand reached out to grab your chin and hold it so she could rest her forehead against yours. You heard the smirk in her voice. 

You chuffed at her light attempt at humour, to make the currently dark moment a little brighter than it was. 

“I am scared that I will lose a second time. And I won’t survive that agony again.” 

Wanda nodded, her nose bumped against yours and your lips danced so close to one another. It was a struggle to not close the slight distance between you to kiss her. 

“You still haven’t told me what I am to you.” 

“I’ll tell you when this is all over,” you sighed, voice hesitant as you slightly withdraw your face from hers. Wanda’s hands slid to your cheeks and held you so you couldn’t pull away anymore.

“Promise?”

The corners of your lips tug into a smirk. “I promise.” 

You caught the way her eyes flickered down slightly to your lips and out of habit, your tongue darted along your bottom to wet it. Your eyes did the same to hers, plump and soft looking. Always tempting. 

“Kiss me, Wolfie.” Her voice called to you softly, the plea of your mate making you cave as you brushed your lips against hers. 

If you did this, you weren’t just friends. You saw her as more than a friend. Whatever she saw more than you realised, was it more than a friend for her?

Did she see a companion in you? A mate?

Your lips pressed into hers and your chest relaxed as the air was drawn from you, a deep growl resounded in the back of your throat. 

Wanda tilted her head to deepen the kiss with a breathless moan.

Your hunger consumed you. Your hands drifted down the length of her back until they reached her thighs, you knocked her knees and she gasped. Your tongue darted through her parted lips as her legs wrapped around your waist, your strength supporting her as if she were a feather. 

Her hands ran through the length of your hair with another moan and that unmistakable swell of arousal pooled in your groin. 

Fuck, how you wanted to claim her right now. That wolfish hunger, selfish in want, desired to make the bite now. 

But you would wait. You’d wait for Wanda and you’d wait for the rest of eternity for her. You couldn’t say she’d do the same, but you damn well hoped. 

You fell forward to lay Wanda down on the bed, your arms supported your weight like pillars on either side of her head. Her hands pulled you closer to her, even if the fight for air was growing too much to bear. 

You smelt it on her, the sweet aroma of rose tinged by an even sweeter scent; her arousal. Your hips bucked against hers and she gasped out, her fingers dug into you with a whimper of your name. 

Oh, how you wanted to hear that sound again. Her hips in turn began to grind against you, the friction of your pants made her legs quiver around your waist. 

You growled against her open mouth, her tongue submitted to you long before her back met the mattress. Her hand flew to your belt to loosen it but you captured her wrist and she stopped, you pulled away from her lips with a deep breath. 

“We don’t have to rush this, Sweetheart,” you pant, head nuzzling against hers. She smiled shyly and a red hue coloured her cheeks and nose.

Not that you blamed her, your own face was a fiery mess of its own.

“Sorry, I got a little wild,” she giggled and you flashed her a wolfish grin, chuckling deeply. 

“Says the witch with the literal wolf on top of her.” 

You brushed your nose along the curve of her jaw, inhaling her intoxicating scent. It made you feel how you presumed people felt when they got drunk. 

You lifted your head so you could see her now. Her eyes stared up at you and that smile that scared away the darkness was there.

How you adored her. What you wouldn’t do for the woman beneath you, you could not name.

You’d do anything for your mate.

Your hand caressed her cheek, thumb running over her chin. “What do you see in me, Wanda?” 

You were curious. She always looked at you with a sense that she saw something in you nobody else could. 

“I see many things within you.”

“Name one,” you urged. Silence ensued as 

her lips thinned in thought. Her gaze softened, perhaps you misread it because of the lighting in the room. You thought for a moment you saw love. 

Her mouth opened to finally give you her answer when a knock pounded against the door - and also your sharpened hearing. A grimace twisted your features.

Wanda offered a sad smile when the realisation that the small world you and Wanda were in had come to an end. 

There was a darkness out in the world that needed to be rid of. That temporary light had to withdraw for the time being. 

You rolled off of Wanda and she stood up quickly as the door opened, after you’d beckoned whoever it was to enter. 

“We’re ready to head off,” Natasha said from the doorway, eyes suspiciously squinted between you and Wanda with a smirk.

You cleared your throat when her knowing eyes landed on you. “Alright. Thank you, Natasha,” you bit down the bark in your words. 

When you two were left alone again, you looked to Wanda. “Don’t go getting yourself killed now. Promise me, Wolf.”

“I promise…”

‘… Mate.’

The sun was setting over the valley, the last rays of light quick to fade as night encroached. You would have to hurry to get everyone on the Quinjet safely. 

“Everyone ready?” You asked as you opened the front door and your team nodded. There was no time to drag their bags along. You’d all suited up and gathered your necessities. 

“Let’s go,” Steve said behind you. 

You exited the house first, a quick assessment of your surroundings, you signalled to your team to follow. 

“Keep together and in front of me. Go!” You urged, letting Steve take the lead to the Quinjet while you covered the team’s rear. It’d allow you to see any oncoming attacks. 

Wanda kept glancing back at you, to make sure you weren’t too far behind, her own fear that you’d be targeted first evident in her eyes. 

Twigs and branches snapped in the woods around you, the scent of your team polluted the air with their growing anxiety of an impending attack. 

“There it is, get going!” You called out, relief flooding the entire team in a shroud when the ramp was already lowered. Your hand brushed Wanda’s back as you urged her forward into a sprint, Bucky and Natasha beside her. You knew they would look after her. 

A colossal weight slammed into your side from the thicket of trees up the snowy hillside, your body instinctively shifted to the mass of muscle and fur now laced with snow. A roar tore from your vocals at the beast that’d separated you from the others. 

An expected tactic. 

You charged up the slope you’d been pushed down onto, leaping into the air and shoved your opponent into the ground beneath him. The hillside was crawling with the ambush, they moved swiftly down to join the first attacker. Most charged for you, but the few that ran for the jet didn’t escape your notice.

You bellowed a warning roar, Wanda among the group that guarded the ramp as Tony and Sam went to get the jet fired up. A clawed hand swept across your face hard, slashing you blind for a second and knocked you onto the ground. Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your attacker’s arm, a pained yelp echoed in the frosty wind. Your hind legs kicked at their toned stomach, claws tearing through fur and tissue as you launched them away; a chunk of flesh clenched between your canines. 

A flood of blood wept from the chunk in your mouth, you dropped it with a wet splash to the snow. A roar came from behind as another came at you but an arrow fired into her eye, her attack faltered as you rolled to the side. Wanda’s magic grappled hold of the wolf and flung her further back, her back smashed into a thick trunk with a growl. 

“The jet’s on, let’s get going!” Tony’s voice yelled above the ensuing chaos. You barked in agreement and cocked your head in encouragement for the team to leave.

“Y/N!” Wanda yelled out for you, fingertips touched by the tendrils of her magic as reached out for you; the ramp began to close. She made to run to you. 

“Wanda!” Steve called in his attempt to halt Wanda. One of the werewolves ran at Wanda, clawed hands outstretched to tear at her. 

Just as you went to jump to her defence, teeth clamped a hold of one of your hind legs. You yowled and used your other leg to kick at him but he avoided your defensive kicks.

Wanda screamed when a large, clawed hand grabbed hold of her leg, Steve and Bucky held onto her to keep her from being dragged out. Your leg arched towards your stomach and with another kick, you managed to loosen the jaws around your ligament and you charged at the wolf that tried to drag Wanda out from the jet. 

You ignored the agonised yelp caught in your throat, replaced by a deep growl as you jaws bit down and yanked at the bushy tail that dangled ahead of you; even when two new sets of jaws set their attack on both your legs this time. Flesh and muscle would be torn to shreds but that mattered little to you.

You’d survive it. The one that had a hold of Wanda released her and Steve and Bucky dragged her further back, even when she tried to reach for you again. “Y/N!” 

“Go!” 

Your roar cracked across the valley like a whip.

You snatched hold of the tail again before the werewolf could make a run for it. The two on your legs tried to shake you off your balance, you pulled the tail in closer and with all the strength you could muster, you flung him at a nearby rock side. His skull pelted against the dark stone and fell limp on the ground. 

The jet rose up just as the lip of the ramp closed.

Wanda’s eyes glowed a dangerous aura of scarlet. 

‘Be safe—!”

‘I will.’

The two jaws released your legs as you were hit from the side once again. This one was heavier, with more anger behind it.

You let out whines and growls as you tumbled down the snowy terrain and onto the ice lake. You lifted your head to see him approach down from the tree line. 

The beast that had sniffed you out. That intended to harm your team when he invited them over. 

Who was responsible for killing your family. 

“You’ve grown stronger,” he rumbled with a tilt of his head, his dark lips twisted into a crooked, fanged smile. 

His stare was bloodthirsty. 

“You should have been killed in that lab when Hydra had the chance. A wasted specimen who couldn’t obey a simple order.”

“I… was not going… to kill… innocents!” You ignored the way your ankles threatened to buckle under your weight, you stood on your hind legs to match the alpha’s height.

The remainder of his pack gathered behind him, forming a crescent around you. Car lights flittered through the tree line. 

Hydra agents. Your muzzle wrinkled with a snarl and your teeth bared until the line of your bloodstained gums showed.

“Well. We tried.” 

He surged forward faster than you could perceive to dodge his attack. His teeth sank deep into your shoulder, a high pitched yelp that mirrored a scream travelled across the ice. 

He pushed you down. He had you pinned, the layer of ice cool against your belly. His jaws ripped and shook you, a pawed hand pressed against you as he tore fur, flesh and muscle across your back.

His pack barked and yipped in their sickening cheers for their leader to maim you. Your jaws snapped again and again until you finally had his unguarded limb in your grasp. He snarled as your teeth gnashed down repeatedly, bone splintering until he kicked you aside. 

His ears were pinned against his head with a low, pained whine. His tongue hesitated to lick his wound and his eyes, full of hatred, darted towards you.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“Yeah…”

Your eyes squeezed shut, the pain from your shoulder down the line of your back stained your coat with dark crimson, the pain excruciating that steam rose from your wounds.

A guttural growl rose from the depths of your chest, anger festering in the old wounds.

“You really should have.” 

You ran at him and he met you halfway. Claws and teeth gnashed and swept at each other. Triumph in your fight with the alpha turned into moments of being overpowered; but you’d find a way to slip out and regain the upper hand.

A series of explosions caught you off guard. You looked up to see the jet had been hit, one of the engines on fire. The jet sputtered and sank. You whimpered out when the Quinjet crashed into the side of the tall mountain peak. 

Thankfully it hadn’t exploded. Everyone had to be alright. You had to hold.

You made an attempt to run for the mountain when something flew towards you and you ducked out of the way, a large harpoon penetrated the ice with a thunderous crack.

Silver.

You could smell the poisonous tinge of it. 

The armoured vehicles circled you, and Hydra agents jumped out, armed with what you only imagined were silver bullets. You roared and snarled at anyone who made a move to shoot at you.

“Nets ready!”

“Get it tied down and back to base!”

The mounted machines on the vehicles fired at you, whipping through the air as one net after another held you down. When you managed to slip out from beneath the nets, agents threw their hands forward, ropes entangled around your limbs as you struggled to break free.

“Get the humans!”

You turned your gaze back to the alpha at his command. His pack and him ran off towards the mountain. 

“Wanda! No!”

You’d heard the commotion from the mountain. Their screams. Your father’s howl. 

You didn’t wait a moment as you almost got yourself killed sliding down the slopes and cliff sides to reach home faster.

Your pack was in trouble. You panted as the wind attacked your fur as your claws cracked the surface of the ice beneath you. 

Your mother was who you heard, followed by your youngest siblings. Your heart felt as if it’d stopped beating. 

Your jaws came around the neck of their attacker and with a jerk of your head you heard the bones of their neck snap.

Your heart broke so very hard. Why did you leave them alone?

The twins laid together side by side, their smaller bodies nestled in the snow. Around them was a halo of their blood.

Blood that could have been avoided if you hadn’t left. You whimpered, your nose pushed into the fur. 

“Wake up, wake up please… no, please…”

Not far from them you glanced up to see your mother’s body. Her fur blended in with the snow. 

A rare white pelt. Now tainted with blood.

It was there your heart grew…

Ice cold. Your maws latched hold of the ropes that constrained you from protecting those who needed you. 

Who you promised yourself you would protect. Even if it killed you. You would not allow that alpha or his pack to massacre your pack again.

Your mate.

The agents stood no chance. They screamed as you shifted your weight to fling them into one another or the vehicles. You rammed and smashed into the armoured cars, destroying most and leaving the rest to burn when you tore the engine apart and flung it into another car. 

The ice cracked beneath you and you moved swiftly. You didn’t allow your wounds to alter your performance, no matter the pain or trail of blood you left behind. 

You pursued the pack that made their way to the cliff side. They jumped and leapt onto any vantage points but they didn’t know this mountain like you did.

You knew the best routes for quick travel up the terrain of the mountain. Whoever was in your way was shown no mercy. Your large hands ripped them off their balance and flung them off the cliff side to whatever fate awaited them below. 

Wanda softly grunted with a hand pressed to her temple. 

“Steve,” she mumbled as he knelt beside her. His hand helped to support her weight while she got her bearings.

“Wanda, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, what happened?” She asked as her eyes focused on his blue eyes. “The jet’s engine was hit. It’s pretty obvious they wanted to knock us down.”

Wanda didn’t respond, not even as Clint and Natasha joined her and Steve. “Is everyone else ok?” Steve asked Clint and he nodded. 

“Yeah, the crash just took them by surprise is all.” 

“Come on, let’s get to cover.” Natasha’s hand found Wanda’s arm and pulled her to her feet, careful not to startle or aggravate any potential injuries.

Wanda pushed away from the ex-widow. 

“No, I have to see if Y/N is alright!” 

“Wanda, we have to get to safety,” Steve argued back but Wanda would not hear it. 

“They promised me!” She choked out, “you have no idea how I feel about them. The bond we have. This is why I must go to them!”

“They’ll be alright,” Steve assured with a hand pressed to her arm, “this is Y/N we’re talking about. If anyone can fend them off, it’s them.” 

Gunfire fired down the cliff side. “Stay here with her, I’ll help the others.” Natasha and Clint watched as Steve ran off to defend their flank with Sam, Tony and Bucky. 

A series of growls tumbled over the mountain ledge, glowing eyes crept into view as three hulking forms climbed up. 

Clint knocked an arrow to his bow, stance low and ready to perform a rapid fire, Wanda’s hands danced together before her as the glowing scarlet of her magic swarmed about her fingertips. Natasha drew her pistol and took aim at the middle werewolf.

Natasha was the first to fire. Round after round only made the beast grunt as if bitten by a fly as he charged forward. Clint shocked him with his knocked arrow and Wanda thrusted her hands forward with a grunt.

The werewolf was pushed over the cliff side with a howl. 

The werewolf to their right leapt at Clint, barely ducking in time. He rolled to the side and shot another arrow while Natasha took cover from an oncoming blow from the second. Clint was knocked back and used his bow to block the maw of his opponent from mauling him.

“Clint!” Natasha yelled out, Wanda waved her hands and pushed the werewolf off of Clint, granting him the opportunity to overpower it. He and the beast went tumbling down into a crevice in the mountain, having looped its neck between his bow and the drawstring.

The last werewolf swiped at Wanda but Natasha threw herself in front of it, grunting when claws tore at her arm sleeve. A clean gash bled through her suit. The werewolf rose it’s arm to come down at Natasha again when Wanda used her magic to fling it towards the edge. 

It bellowed a distorted roar at Wanda only to whimper when your teeth mashed down into its jugular with a baritone growl. Your amber eyes the bright fire beneath burning coals as you crunched down further. With another whine, you ripped your maw clean from the wolf’s neck and they fell to the bottom of the mountain. 

“Y/N,” Wanda gasped out as she ran to you. You dragged your body over the rocky ledge, Wanda was able to see the blood and wounds that covered you. 

“Good to see you’re alive,” Natasha said as she held her bleeding arm, her attention averted to Clint who was still standing his ground against his opponent.

 “I gotta help Clint!” She said hurriedly and rushed off to Clint’s aid. “Be careful!” Wanda yelled after her, hands attentive as they gently stroked along your neck.

A soft whine wheezed up your throat. Gunfire continued to ring, now having travelled further up the mountain near where you and Wanda were. 

Natasha and Clint climbed back up a short moment later, Wanda tugged Clint to rest as blood trailed down his face.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about these guys, Wolfie. What exactly did Hydra do to them?”

Your vocal cords strained the rumbling chuff, hot air fanned out of your nostrils. 

“Come on, we should help the others,” said Wanda urgently. You, Clint and Natasha nodded and began to follow her but a blur flew from one of the higher up ledges.

Wanda screamed when she was pinned down, the form having pushed her back some distance from you and the others.

“Wanda!” You roared, you leapt towards her and the alpha without a second thought. The three of you fell over the lip of the mountainside, your body instinctively clawed Wanda out of the alpha’s grasp and encircled around her; caging her from the fall. 

Wanda was tucked between the heat of your body above and the snow against her front,  both of you stared at the alpha in front of you. 

His wolfish face formed into a snarl, saliva and blood dripped from his lips. 

Blood dripped from yours, fangs bared right back at him. 

“Protective, aren’t you? Found yourself a little mate?”

Your jaws stretched open with a protective roar. 

“That struck a nerve.”

The alpha jumped at you but this time you were prepared. You arched your body, arms latched hold of him as you both rolled back and over another lip, this time the fall was more steep and less intruded by any sharp rock edges. Your back collided with wooden blanks as yours and the alphas weight broke through it and crashed into the dusty keep below. 

Wanda shrieked your name. The sound was a fracture to your very soul, the tie to your mate tugged a little too hard for your liking. 

You barely were up on your own four limbs when the alpha continued his barrage of attacks. Each hit was ruthless as his claws swiped and tore at your body. His teeth fractured a number of your bones as you attempted to pry him off. He grappled the scruff of your neck and slammed you face first against anything he could.

He tossed you back and your back smashed into the crumbling bricks behind you. 

The sky of Alaska’s first rays of dawn illuminated through the old, stone archway with a pink and orange hue. Snow bellowed in with the gusts of wind.

For a moment you both stared at each other. Covered in the wounds bred from conflict.

Your shoulders rose and fell with each pant, pain rippled across your body and your fur bristled against the cool breeze. 

His glowing red hues danced in the darkness on his side, and the amber in yours did the same on your side.

If you killed him, it would be over. Without their leader they were hopeless. Defenceless. Weak. 

“Do you really think you are one of them? You’re not. You never will be. Mated to a human. She’ll break your heart and then… then you will become as cruel as I.”

“I am nothing like you. I will never be anything like you.”

Your hackles raised at him. He snarled back at you.

“We are monsters! Just embrace that! You will never be anything but that!”

You averted your gaze for a moment. He was right. You were a monster. You huffed lowly, ears twitching slightly when the breeze tickled against them. Mother Nature thought otherwise.

“I’ve embraced it. But if I’m a monster… then I’m a good one that hunts the bad ones.” 

You ran at each other with teeth bared and claws out. Snarls and growls echoed in the chamber of the ruin as you swiped at one another, biting into the flesh of one another.

Carnage.

Monster against monster. 

Mother Nature was not always as peaceful and beautiful as many thought she was.

She could be cruel.

Heartless. 

And it was all in the name of balance. It was fair.

His elbow drove into your face and knocked you back, he pinned your weight to the ground as his muzzle dug into your stomach and chest. You yelped and kicked your legs against him as the savagery of his mauling tore away at you.

Your claws swiped him upside the head again and again until he pulled his head away. A distorted scream came from the depths of his black and bloody throat. 

His clawed hand swept across your head, slamming it into the stones beneath you repeatedly in rapid repetition. 

Any moment he would smash your skull.

When he figured you’d endured enough, he stared down at the sight of you; ears flopped and a whimper struggling to escape your beaten and half torn apart chest. He raised his hand high. The light bounced off the blood, making it almost shine in the Alaskan morning.

Fairness. 

Was this fair? Perhaps not for you but for Mother Nature? Who were you to fight against her?

You’d been doing it for seven years. You were done.

You had embraced it all. What you were, what you went through, and what you were to become; come what may. 

“You could have been something more. Something great.”

“I already am. They made me something great.”

With a shake of his head, maybe calling you a fool beneath the huff of his breathy exhale, he prepared for his final slash. 

A bright red aura surrounded his arm just as it went to strike against you. Unmoving, the alpha whined when his arm refused to move. Wanda stood just in sight above the ruined keep.

You saw the determined shimmer of scarlet in her eyes. 

He roared at you in his confusion and you arched your neck forward. Your muzzle stained red once more when your teeth crushed bone, minced flesh and punctured his artery. 

He stilled above you and his weight drifted until it rested against yours. The sun finally began its rise over the distant peaks. You grunted as your limbs shoved the corpse, rolling him through the stone archway and down into the depths below. The ice could have him now. 

You didn’t know how long it took for your team to make their descent into the ruins you found yourself in. Your eyes were glazed over, the amber of your fiery hues slowly faded. Each breath you took was stunted from the damage you inflicted. 

Blurred forms moved down towards you, snow danced across your vision when a particular gust of wind blew through the archway. 

Voices beckoned you by your name but you couldn’t respond. 

“What are you doing here, Big Wolf?” You knew that voice. That adorable, innocent voice. “Big Wolf… why are you leaving them behind?” 

‘Hm.’ 

Their voices were inseparable, even in Mother Nature’s light. 

Your vision grew dark but the eyes of your mate were the last thing you saw. 

“Please, Wolfie… you promised.” 

You inhaled deeply as the smell of early stages of rabbit stew filled your nose. 

“Mother?” Your eyes were coated in a blurred layer of sleep. How long had you been out? Your mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared the freshly skinned rabbits. 

“You’re awake,” she chuckled as she peered at you on the couch from her place at the stove. 

“You’re awake, Big Wolf!” One of the twins shouted, the other not far behind. Their small feet thumped against the floor in their dash to get to you. 

You wheeze when your breath was knocked from your lungs as the twins plop themselves - rather happily as well - on top of you.

“You were asleep for so long!” One of them giggled. You chuckled at the enthusiastic pout on their lips.

“You promised you’d take us up that mountain before dark!”

“I…” you paused for a moment with a furrowed brow. Not long did you sigh and went to move. “I know. We can still go.”

They both jumped off of you as they raced each other to the door. “Yaaaay!”

You shook your head with a chuckle as you walked up to your mother, patting your two other siblings in greeting as they passed. “You guys coming or what?”

“Yeah! We’ll be out front in a second!” Said your second younger sibling. 

You looked to your mother who had chopped some vegetables on the wooden board, expertly. Even still, she never lost her concentration though her skill was unmatched and she could do it blindfolded.

She never overestimated herself. Never pushed herself to prove anything to the sake of being seen or respected. She did what she could with all she had. 

And that was enough for everyone.

She turned to put the chopped vegetables into the pot. Her eyes turned to you finally and she grinned.

You often reflected your father in both demeanour, stature and appearance; but the one thing you prided yourself for was that you had your mother’s eyes. 

It was the one reprieve you had. When you’d stare at yourself - beyond the wolf - you could see your family just from the colour of your eyes. 

“Something the matter?” She asked. You shook your head silently and stepped forward. Your arms wrapped her to you and she guffawed. 

“Finally gotten into the habit of being affectionate, have you?” 

You huffed at her words with a smirk. “Hmph. I guess I have.”

You should have known. A wolf’s memory was good. Often too good. This wasn’t a memory in that old lodge tucked into the valley, nestled near the lakeside. 

You and your mother pulled away to look at each other again. Her eyes were misted over and yours did the same. 

Her hand rose to caress your cheek tenderly. With a mother’s touch.

You leaned into her palm with a rumbling purr. “It’s time to stop running. Let go of that guilt that weighs you down.” 

You opened your eyes to meet her tearful eyes. “We’ve never left you. We have always been here, just know that in your heart.”

“I will, Mother…”

“You have to go now or you’ll be missed,” she said. You knew what she meant.

She looked towards the front door for a moment. “I’ll take them up the mountain for you,” she whispered with a kind smile. 

An understanding smile. She knew you had others waiting for you. 

“Thanks.” You embraced her again. Her warmth comforted you. 

“I love you, Y/N.“

“I love you too.” 

“Vitals are stabilising.”

“Good, that’s really good. Let’s get them on a new drip.”

“Wanda, here you go, Honey. Have some coffee.”

“They’ve been like this for a while. What if… they don’t make it?”

Your eyes peeled open slowly. The bright lights above flooded in. Wanda lurched forward with a hand clasped over her mouth with a sob.

“I beg to differ,” you rasped, your hand outstretched and your fingers combed through her hair.

Your name was said by voices you recognised all at once and many faces greeted you on the other side of that dark tunnel. Relieved smiles and sighs, tearful eyes and many uttering your welcomed return. 

Wanda grasped hold of your hand, the clear, thin tube of your drip made you aware you were in the medic ward.

New York. The compound. 

“Damn, Wolfie,” Tony sighed, “you gave us all quite the scare for the past two weeks.” 

“Two weeks? W-what happened?”

“You were in a really bad way when we found you, Y/N,” said Sam, eyes casted down to conceal the way his eyes glistened.

“We all thought we lost you a couple times there.”

You tried to shuffle your body to sit up more when pain shot through you from all directions.  You laid a hand on the wound that reached over the entirety of your shoulder. You hissed, teeth clenched hard and everyone winced at your reaction. Your memory of the fight came back to you, piece by piece. 

“Your wounds were severe, Y/N. When Cho and Banner saw you… they told us it was likely you wouldn’t pull through…” 

“Moving you back to the compound was a risk we had to take. Even from the ruins.”

You shook your head with a grimace as the pain slowly subsided. “Is everyone else alright?” You asked and the room of your fellow Avengers scoffed in disbelief.

“Minor scratches and bruises were the worst we got,” Steve informed you with a light chuckle, “everyone else is fine. It’s you who everyone is worried about. You took the brunt of that attack.”

“Well… I had to.” You moved again, being more cautious of your wounds. “You guys are my pack. Mine to protect.” 

Your eyes met Wanda’s, a small smile on her lips as she pulled your hand to cup her face. To feel the comfort of your warmth. 

You chuckled as you remembered that night she told you she was cold, only to then cuddle into your side. 

How her body fit just perfectly against you when you both stood on the pier. 

Your eyes lifted up to the rest of your pack.

“So get used to that because that’s a habit you’re not gonna shake from me anytime ever.” 

To be continued in: Habits Of Mother Nature's Will II: Aftermath

Thank you for Reading!

(◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#treehouse taglist #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda maximoff x reader #werewolf reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #platonic avengers x reader #marvel mcu #gn reader #female reader #male reader #angst #hurt/comfort #werewolves #tw violence #tw injury

[slytherizz]

Petulant - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Fluff, Slice of Life, First Kiss

A/N I'm trying to be kinder to myself when it comes to my writing. I usually share longer pieces but I have so many little bits of fluffy drabble and I'm trying to remember writing is meant to be fun and not every one-shot needs to be perfect.

Palms flat on the jetty Sebastian hoisted himself out of the water. Cursing violent profanities as he shook his hair out like a wet dog as he scrambled onto the dock. Shaking whether with rage or because the frigid water of the black lake had chilled him to the bone. She wasn’t sure. 

Not that she cared. 

Sebastian deserved it for being such a petulant pain in her arse. And little water never killed anyone; no matter how many unsavoury creatures lurked in its murky depths.

He’d practically goaded her into shoving him off the jetty. It had only been a matter of time before one of them retaliated against this little bonding exercise of Hecat’s. If he'd seen the opening first she'd be the one drenched and spluttering - she was sure of it. 

Having to endure sharing a potions station where they could use Gareth as a buffer was one thing. But being forced to spend her precious and most sacred Sallow-free hours, in the freezing cold catching Grindalow's as punishment was beyond the pale. All because they caused a teensy fire that was entirely Sebasitan’s fault when a duel had gotten out of hand. 

Really what had Hecate expected to achieve with this cruel and unusual detention? That they’d return to the castle thick as thieves? Strike up a newfound camaraderie that would want to make her do anything besides hex the smarmy git?

Impossible. Their professor was far too optimistic and this exercise had been doomed from the start.

“Enjoy your swim?” she sneered. Perhaps it hadn’t been an entire waste of time. At least now she could savour this mental image of him sopping wet and looking utterly ridiculous. 

Regaining his balance and rising to his full height, Sebastian stalked towards her. Face like thunder stopping mere inches away from her to glare down his nose. Droplets of water falling from his hair onto her cheeks. She swatted them away wrinkling her nose in disgust which only seemed to enrage him further. 

"You. Are the most immature. Insufferable. Petulant witch, I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t hex you on the spot! Why exactly did you feel the need to throw me in the bastard lake?”

He was standing so close to her she should really step away but her feet were practically glued to the spot. Standing so close his hot breath ghosted across her cheeks. So close in fact, she could see his freckled skin through the shirt which clung to every inch of him. Sheer white leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination. 

How she'd never noticed quite how large Sebastian had gotten until he was impressing down on her was a mystery. A realisation that came too little too late as she’d turned their altercations physical. 

No matter where she looked there seemed to be more of him. Broad shoulders heaving with every laboured breath. Water beading in sparse hairs on his chest which peaked out from over his open-top buttons. Muscles in his jaw and neck twitching in agitation. 

Her eyes of their own volition had begun to meander down his stomach following the trail of hair wondering exactly how far they went before she caught herself. Wrenching them up again to his face, before she saw if the cling of his soaking tartan trousers exposed just as much of him as his shirt. Half terrified of what she'd find; the other half disgusted with her own desire to look. She didn't know what kind of feelings it would invoke but by the heat pooling low in her abdomen - she could hazard a guess.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” 

She blushed wildly. Mouth flapping open and closing like a fish out of water. Trying to stamp down the unwelcome feeling that made her want to press her thighs together. 

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows lowering sceptically. "You're staring."

"I am not!” she spluttered. Trying to recapture the feeling of overwhelming irritation she’d felt the precise moment she’d thrown him overboard. “An obnoxious idiot just happens to be shouting his head off in my eyeline."

"You're blushing." He smirked, voice giddy with amusement as if he'd finally cracked some impossible puzzle. Her hands snapped up to clasp her burning face to hide the evidence. His tongue darted across his bottom lip licking off water. Which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

"Is that why you pushed me in? Wanted to get a good look?"

"I wanted you to shut your mouth and stop whinging for five minutes so I could have some bloody peace. But it seems to have had the opposite effect - you're chatting even more bollocks than before."

"So this why you’re so insufferable all the time. This-” He gestured down to his dishevelled albeit to her utter dismay, not unappealing state of undress. “Is your idea of flirting?”

“Flir- Flirting? You must have knocked your head on your way down.”

“Merlin. This is rich - You’d be pulling on my pigtails if I had them."

"No. I. Wouldn't!"

Foot stomping hard on the rickety planks in frustration. Rather childish and definitely not her proudest display. It did little to prove her argument and instead to her dismay only seemed to make Sebastian grin wider.

"You fancy me." Not a question. He declared it like he’d won some imaginary battle. 

"I absolutely do not."

He leaned further towards her she could see the glint of triumph in his brown eyes. She swallowed hard eyes flicking towards his lips and back again. 

"Liar.”

Strong hands seized her face and knowing he’d won - Sebastian crashed his lips into hers. They were wet and cool against hers from his tumble into the lake as he kissed her. But so soft and inviting in a way she didn’t think anyone's flesh could be it made her head spin. His fingers tangled in her hair, mouth moving demanding against hers. 

Her knee jerked instinctively towards his most precious area but faltered, along with the last of her pride. She could not seem to find the will to pry herself away. Sebastian’s teeth grazed her bottom lip requesting access. She gasped in surprise and he slid his tongue past her parted lips. A shudder ran through her as his tongue flicked against hers.  

He groaned into her mouth, as her tongue matched his motions in maddening strokes. A sound under normal circumstances she would have mocked him mercilessly for only made her kiss him back more feverishly. Regrettably, her hands were just as traitorous as her tongue. Following the curve of broad shoulders, she felt the muscles underneath firm from years of duelling. Admitting defeat she dared to go further tangling in his wet hair. Pulling gently hoping it would elicit more sinful sounds from Sebastian. 

A deep well of desire now pooled in her gut all rational thoughts drowned in. She failed miserably to stifle her own strained moan as large hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him. Skin practically burning despite the frigid temperatures.

A truly pathetic whimper of protest escaped her lips as Sebastian pulled away from their kiss. Leaving her breathless and dizzy even as the cold rushed in. No longer able to leech his warmth she shamefully realised how close their bodies had been pressed together from the chill of her damp clothes. 

He stepped back and if she was capable of forming a coherent thought she would have hexed the smug look off his ridiculous, handsome, infuriating face. 

"Now. I'm going to go and get out of these wet clothes before I catch a death," Sebastian said. As casually as if he was observing the weather and had not just spent the last five minutes snogging the supposed most insufferable witch he’d ever met. Turning quickly on his heels he began striding towards the boat house. Leaving her open-mouthed cheeks burning from the frigid wind lapping at the wet hand print on her cheek or with shameful unwanted desire she wasn't sure. Calling back over his shoulder. A roughish smile pulled on freckled cheeks. A devilish glint in his eye. "If you're ready to stop being such a brat - I'll let you help."

She groaned inwardly, legs following him across the jetty seemingly of their own accord. Powerless to stop herself and praying no one would see her shameless pursuit. 

She knew he'd never let her live this one down.

Not that she cared.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

[bellaofthevalley]

Stellaron Hunters: Singing Dove

Content warning: yandere themes, polyamorous relationship, reader is gender-neutral.

It starts with a chase. 

It always starts with a chase. 

You run through the cold, deep snow. Dried leaves and twigs hiding under the snowy blanket crunch beneath your boots, and the little cracking noises they cause makes you want to cry painful, heaving sobs that shake through your frame. 

The moon hangs high in the sky, your singular source of light. You are so deep within this frozen wasteland, not even Belebog's lights show on the horizon. 

A perfect place for them to hunt you. But hunt truly is too kind of a word; a prey has at least a singular, sliver chance of survival. You are merely a toy between their clutches, ever so often placed in a new playground for their amusement, but at the end- 

You will be back with them. It is, after all, part of the script. Always, always, always- 

You stumble and fall on your hands and knees with a painful gasp, foot catching within viney branches that dig into your boots and pants. You'd been running so much, for so long, you hadn't even realised just how out of breath your poor lungs were. 

In, and out. In, and out. In, and out.

You take in one, last big breath before finally looking back to get your foot out of the vines and hopefully, with the mercy of Qlipoth the Preservation and any Aeon that will listen, escape from this hellhole- 

Only to meet two red piercing eyes staring at you from such darkness, not even the moon could disperse it. Peering, watching, waiting. 

"No!" The frightened scream tears itself out of your throat, and your lack of breath and aching foot are forgotten entirely. In the distance, among the flying crows and skittering spiders, you heard the tinkling laugh of a woman.

Everything is dangerous. Everything is dangerous. Everything is dangerous-

He tells you everything is dangerous as he sharpens a sword, cracks going through its cold blade like broken glass. His voice is low, but his eyes are staring straight at you. Gazing, scrutinizing, waiting. 

How many days, weeks, and months have you spent with them now? With him? You know his past by now, something he'd confided in you in the lonely, dead hours of the night, where you craved interaction even from someone like him. When he would crave interaction from you, would seek you out and hoard your time with the excuse that Kafka demanded he needed you to heal him and soothe his mara-struck mind with your singing, nimble fingers unwillingly going through his hair. 

Everything is dangerous, Bǎo bèi. You will stay here with us.

She tells you everything is dangerous without telling you. You are on her lap, so shamefully naked and exposed yet she lounges against the tub as if the world is her oyster to pick, hands on your waist and nails slightly dragging against your skin until there are raised goosebumps trailing up your body. 

It might as well be her world to rule. 

You will not leave, my darling. She says with the softest laugh, burying her pretty face in your tender throat and kissing your skin. Her perfume still clings to her skin, leaving your mind hazy and muddled- all thoughts of your burning homeland they took you from washing away until all you can think of is her, her, her. She's a devil and a devil hunter; she is a spider that has spun into a web you can see neither the start nor end of, demands your songs as if you, your songs and voice all belong to her. 

Everything is dangerous, my lovely. You will not leave, not now nor ever.

You run and run, boots so torn every twig and rock digs into your delicate skin. You are crying, too, stumbling against trees and branches. The noise that comes out of your throat is half-sob, half-prayer. Mercy, oh Aeon, grant me mercy. 

You speed past the forest. It does not matter where you are, only that you leave. There are so many snapping noises, but all of it is from your running so you- you are sure you are safe- 

No more trees, and the lights from Belebog now shine like the very stars of hope. So close now, and freedom tastes so unbelievably sweet on your tongue. You reach a hand out- 

And fall down again, staring up at the star-less sky with wide eyes and a frantic heart. 

No twig or branch made you fall. 

Spider webs did. 

The moon is so beautiful.

"The moon is so beautiful, isn't it, my darling?" 

Kafka looks down on you, kneeling down by your side. Her pretty eyes gleam in the encroaching darkness, mouth stretched into a small smile that is anything but kind. 

Yet her touch is so very gentle when she cups your face, wipes away the lone tear trickling down your cheek. She is even gentler when she leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, this time tasting your second tear. 

It makes her sigh, so awfully fond. The spider web clings to your body, crawling up your limbs. You are unaware of Blade slowly coming out of the woods, your focus entirely on Kafka. 

"You tried your very best," she croons, voice low and soft. Her smile widens, thumb swiping across your chapped lips, smoothing out the furrowed lines between your brows. "But it wasn't enough, was it? It will never be enough, either. But, oh, how beautiful you looked as you ran and ran, so fully convinced you even had a small chance of success… like a frightened rabbit. Isn't that right, Bladie?" 

Blade's silence is unsurprising, and you are glad for it as you finally descend into sobs, turning your head away from her even as her hand chases your face. All of it… was just an illusion? All of it? 

"Carry them, Bladie." Kafka orders, chuckling. She plays with your hair for a few seconds, humming before she kisses you, kisses under your lashes, one last time and gets up. "Carry them home, where they belong." 

 It ends with you back in their arms. 

It always ends with you back in their arms. 

Masterlist.

#bella.posts #honkai star rail #blade honkai #kafka honkai #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #kafka x reader #yandere kafka x reader #yandere kafka

[albertasunrise]

Look for the Light - 1

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist

You were standing guard when you overheard their conversation. You’d not meant to eavesdrop but when your name had fallen from Ellie's lips, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“You and her a thing?” The child asked and Joel scoffed. 

“Pass.” He replied and your heart sank. 

“Something is going on with you two though.” She stated matter of factly and you could almost picture Joel’s expression. 

“Pass.” He replied again and that was your cue to turn around again and return to keeping the watch. 

“How'd you end up in Boston?” Ellie pushed and Joel practically grumbled out his reply. 

“Pass.” His favourite response “No more questions about me.” 

You tuned out after that. You could vaguely hear them discussing the life expectancy of the infected but you didn’t care to listen. Your mind instead wandered back to how you had met Tess and Joel. How they’d saved you from almost certain death. 

You were sure you were hallucinating when two figures came into view. You blamed it on the blood loss. Damn raiders had got you good. Clutching to your leg, you watched them slink into view. You knew they would likely kill you. If anything, they would put you out of your misery. So that’s why, when they had gotten close enough, you’d called out for help. The shadows blocked the sun as they came to a stop beside you, your vision going black as they crouched to your level. 

“She’s been shot.” Stated Tess as she inspected your wound “Best just leave her here.” She stated as she got back to her feet but Joel remained. 

Normally he would have agreed with his partner. He’d left plenty of doomed souls to die where he’s found them but there was something about you that drew him in. 

“We’re not far from Bill and Frank’s.” He stated as he placed two fingers on your neck “If we get her there, they could help.” 

“Bill barely lets us in.” Tess grumbled, “What makes you think he’ll help her!” She scoffed. 

“Frank will.”

“Why do you care Joel?” She asked, pulling his gaze to her “She’s a nobody. You’ve done it before!” 

Joel didn’t reply. He simply scooped her up into his arms and started walking. Less than an hour later, Frank was patching you up and Bill was grumbling about dragging strays into his town. 

You hadn’t strayed from Joel's side a day since 

 “You can put the gun down, Joel.” Sat Tess as she managed to barge the door open. 

You made your way to Ellie's side and studied Tess’ expression. 

“What is it?” You ask and she simply motioned for you to follow. 

This couldn’t be good news. 

Following through the abandoned hotel restaurant, you made your way to what looked like a balcony in the middle of renovations, before everything went to hell. Stepping through a plastic curtain the truth of your predicament came to light. You wouldn’t be going the way you’d hoped. 

“There’s so many.” Gasped Ellie and you glanced at the girl a moment before sharing a look with Joel. 

“The last time we were here, they were still deep inside the buildings.” Stated Tess as she watched the infected writhe on the floor “Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ, they went inside seeking shelter... and that's how they get more and more of the city bit by bit, year after year.“

A cloud parting overhead allowed the sun to shine its light down on the hoard below and their snarling became louder and almost pained. Ellie’s eyes widened in realisation as she watched them all writhe and scream on the ground below them. 

“They’re connected!” She stated and you sighed. 

“More than you know.” You stated as you looked from her to Tess “The fungus grows underground. Long fibres like wires some of them stretching for over a mile.” 

Tess scraped a hand over her face as she then looked up at Joel before looking down at the child standing beside you. 

“Now, you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place, and you can wake a dozen Infected from somewhere else.“ She piped up and Ellie looked over at the older woman “You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand?” 

Ellie nodded before looking back down at the infected blow. 

“It’s important.” Tess continued, her tone firm “I’m tryin’ to keep you alive.” 

Ellie gave the woman a nod and then that was that. End of conversation. 

“So we’re not going that way.” She grumbled and you shook your head. 

“No.” 

“What do we do then?” She asked, looking up at Joel “Short way?” She asked, almost panicked. 

“Museum.” He replied, glancing at Tess before his eyes came to rest on you. 

“Come on, we need to get going.” Piped up Tess as she led the way back into the hotel. 

You followed without question, only to be stopped by a firm hand on your wrist. 

“Joel, what are you-“ 

“You should head back.” He stated firmly “It’s gonna get dangerous.” 

“More so than it already has been?” You scoffed, pulling your hand from his grip “Why me and not Tess?” 

“She has more experience in this sorta thing.” He replied and you rolled your eyes “I’m serious.” 

“You just wanna keep a backup play thing in case you lose one.” You replied bitterly.

“That’s not.” He shook his head and you scoffed again. 

“So you’re not fuckin’ us both?” You pushed, leaving Joel at a loss for words “Look, Joel, I’m not your girlfriend. You can fuck who you like but I’m also not your property. So you can’t order me around. I will deliver the girl then that’s it.” 

“What is?” He asked and for a moment, you thought you could sense fear in his tone.  

“I’m done.” You replied plainly before making your way back inside and leaving a speechless Joel in your wake. 

A mixture of emotions washed over him. Frustration, anger, hurt! Just to name a few. But the main one was sadness. Hearing you say that after this, you were done with him had cut him deeper than you knew. He had never been the best at showing you what you meant to him but he’d hoped you knew that you meant something. Maybe even everything. 

But it was clear to him that you knew nothing of his feelings. That, or you simply didn’t return them. 

"You've gotta be fսcking kidding me." Grumbled Ellie as she looked up at the old building. 

Fungus had enveloped most of the front of the structure. You could already picture how it looked inside. Bodies permanently fused the walls and floors. Their expressions set in stone for the rest of time. 

"Well, there's a way across from the top floor." Tess stated as Joel started to inspect the Museum entrance before glancing at you. 

You hadn't looked at him since leaving the hotel. Rolling his shoulders back and schooled his features, returning his attention to the fungus-covered building. 

"Well, then I guess it's fine." 

You smirked at Ellie's sarcastic reply, knowing how riled up Joel would be by it. The man appeared to be all stoicism and few words but in reality, it was easy to push his buttons. 

"We used to take it all the time." You piped up, looking at the teenager. 

"Okay."

"Look it was fine." Tess continued but Ellie cut her off with her one-word response. 

"Awesome." 

You finally turned your attention to Joel who was inspecting the fungus more closely. Knocking it a few times with the butt of his gun before turning to look at you all again. 

"It's bone dry." He stated as he made his way back over to Tess' side, the two of them sharing a look that had the green monster inside of you flaring its nostrils. 

"It could mean they're all finally dead in there." He suggested and Tess nodded before glancing at you. 

It was the first time since leaving the hotel that you'd studied his expression and your brows drew together as you studied the sudden soulful look he was giving you. You allowed yourself, just for a moment, to believe that he was looking at you that way because he cared about you. You knew that you were little more than a sidekick and an occasional release for this man. 

The release part had been a more common occurrence lately. How it had started was still a little fuzzy. The two of you had come close to death, had gotten drunk and fucked each other's brains out. Then, when Tess was indisposed, he'd come to you for an escape from the real world and you'd taken what you could get. 

Then something changed and you spent most evenings in each other's beds. You'd hated how easily you had allowed him to use you but you had fallen for him. So you let it happen over and over, simply to have something. Even if it hurt you, body and soul. 

You'd barely had a moment to react to the sound of your door opening and closing before Joel was on you. Normally you would be quick to respond to his needy kisses but that evening you weren't and he noticed it straight away. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, pulling back to look at you properly "You been drinking?" 

"So what if I have?" You asked, pushing him off of you and reaching for the whiskey on your side table "HEY!" You growled when he snatched it from you and took a swig.

"Need to catch up." He grumbled and you rolled your eyes at him. 

"Bad day?" 

"Could say that." He lamented, taking another long pull before handing it to you. 

The two of you shared the bottle before he was kissing you again but it was different to before. He took his time, his hands tracing your curves as his lips painted your flesh with his passion. Clothes were removed and then his mouth devoured your sex. This was new. He'd never done this to you before and as his tongue played you perfectly, you wondered, why now? 

His thick fingers pushing into your heat had you hurtling towards your climax. Joel crooked his fingers perfectly, fingertips brushing against that spongy spot inside that no one had ever reached before and you came with a cry. 

"Mmmm, I love the sounds you make when you cum." He purred as he situated himself between your thighs. 

You grinned up at him as you allowed your feelings for him to leak out. The expression was quickly wiped from your face when he pushed his throbbing length into you. 

"Fuck." You choked, throwing your head back and baring your neck at him. 

He nipped and kissed the flesh there as he thrust languidly in and out of you. The usual frenzied sex you shared was replaced with something slower and so much more passionate. He hit your sweet spot over and over as his tongue danced with yours. His hips grinding into you were all it took to have you cumming around him and he growled in your ear as his release took hold of him and he painted your walls with his spent. 

That night you fell asleep in each other's arms and you woke up to him holding you against his firm body. You smiled at the sound of his soft snores before your head and allowed yourself to revel in the feel of this domestic moment because you knew the moment he woke up... It would be over. 

You were dragged from your memory by Joel calling after you. Standing at the door with his gun in hand you nodded and made your way over to him. You walked passed him without a glance, your own gun now firmly clasped in your hands. 

Torches brought to light that the museum looked exactly how you had pictured it. The building creaked and groaned from the weight of the dead fungus and you wondered how much longer the structure could handle it. 

"Yeah... cooked." Joel stated as his torch illuminated the petrified remains of an infected victim. 

"Oh, finally, some fuckin' luck." Said Tess as she winked at Ellie. 

"I guess we should've gone this way in the first place.." Joel uttered as he stepped further in and you rolled your eyes at his statement. 

Hindsight was a wonderful thing. 

"Oh shit!" Yelped Ellie and you sprinted to her side to see a fresh corpse, flesh cut to ribbons "What the fuck did that?" 

"Maybe..." Tess trailed off, her breathing picking up as she looked from you to Joel "maybe he was attacked outside, and crawled through the doors." She whispered and both you and Ellie turned to look at her "The door was open... Could've been him."

Ellie gave you a panicked look before returning her attention to Tess and Joel. 

"I don't hear anything." 

"Who would you hear?" Ellie asked and Joel was quick to shush her "Who would you hear?" She repeated in a hushed tone. 

Joel glanced at you a moment. You looked scared and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He then looked back at the teenager who was looking at him for answers.

"Are you saying an Infected did that?"

"Shhh."

"Because I've been attacked by one and it wasn't like that." Ellie uttered as she glanced back at the body. 

"Okay, from this point forward, we are silent. Not quite... Silent." Joel instructed as he looked between you, Ellie and Tess. 

"What..."

"No. No questions. Just do it." 

There was no room for argument. You all followed him up the stairs without question and what greeted you, would haunt your nightmares for years to come. You were split from Joel the moment a clicker came screaming at you. The last time you saw him, he was battling one on his own whilst Tess and Ellie ran for cover. 

When you found each other again, it was in the attic of the museum. You couldn't stop yourself from pulling Joel into a hug when he sprinted into view with Ellie at his side but then Tess stepped in and you pulled away. You didn't look at him as you climbed out the window and sprint across the makeshift bridge beyond. You hated the fact you'd let your feelings control your actions but you'd just been so happy to see him. You heard Ellie speaking behind you but you kept your attention fixed on the view. 

"You're in love with him aren't you." She asked out of the blue and you glanced at her a second before looking back to the derelict skyline. 

"Pass." 

"God, you all really hate talking about your feelings huh?" Ellie scoffed and you allowed yourself to smile at her comment a moment before your shoulders tensed as Joel stepped up beside Ellie. 

"Is it everything you hoped for?" He asked the teenager, glancing at you and then at her. 

"Jury's still out." She replied as she looked out at the cityscape "But, man, you can't deny that view." 

"Should have seen it when the buildings were still standing." You chuffed, remembering how it looked when you'd visited with your parents. You'd been just a few years older than her, there visiting your aunt who'd lived in an apartment building that was now reduced to little more than shattered glass. 

"C'mon, let's get there before it's dark." Ordered Tess as she stomped past the three of you and after a short glance at Joel you followed the older woman wordlessly. 

The walk gave you time to think. In a few minutes, you would be handing Ellie over to the Fireflies. You had told Joel that after this, you were done. You just weren't sure you could really leave the man who owned you body and soul. Then when you glanced at him and noted the look he and Tess shared, you decided you had to. 

After today... You and Joel were done. You wouldn't be following him into certain danger ever again. 

How wrong you were going to be. 

Next

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction

[chaotic-iguana]

Refuge | chapter three. 

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | general masterlist 

chapter three: damning rebirth

wordcount: 3.8k - my longest work yet lmao summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? warnings: angst, estrangement, anger, violence, sad, its like centered around finding yourself again, reader and joel are both quite complicated broken ppl im trying to do them justice, not much joel he’ll be in the next chapter i promise.

You didn’t speak to him for weeks after that first afternoon. You’d run out of words to say. You stopped speaking to his brother, too, for keeping you in the dark; ignoring Maria’s justifications, the constant droning of “…he did it to keep you safe, you know? So you wouldn’t leave Jackson’s safety and run after Joel. You could have died. Sarah’s death would have broken you, like it broke him, and you should be thankful that…” 

You tuned her out after a while. It was getting tiring coming up with rude adjectives to describe how wrong she was in your head. There was no fight left in you to even protest, so you just left the room while she was talking. You loved her, but there were days you thought she just enjoyed hearing herself talk. Which she was extremely welcome to do, but with the acknowledgement that you would rather walk into a bloaters' den unarmed than sit through it.

Tommy had lied to you, kept the truth about your family from you, and no matter how many ways he spun it, it wouldn’t change the fact that when your first fucking words to him were asking about Joel and Sarah, he had looked you in the eyes and lied through his goddamn teeth when he said he didn’t know. He could go crying to Maria all he liked. You’d need a while not to recoil with disgust every time you saw him no matter how many times you got told to stop acting like a child. When Tommy realised the extent of your anger, he attempted to remedy it by telling you everything. Sarah getting shot on outbreak day - you still winced when he said it- and Joel’s time in the QZ, with a woman called Tess. You didn’t even know what to make of that. You probably couldn’t unpack your feelings about it if you tried. How he found the girl you’d gotten alarmed by - the job he got, how he took her in, how he lied to her and why she won’t look at him now. 

You didn’t even bother forming opinions about any of it, let alone voice any. Thinking was futile; your thoughts or ideas or opinions or offense wouldn’t change anything, would they? You continued the same monotonous routine you had established for the past year or so since you arrived to Jackson, this time with even fewer occasions of leaving the house for a party or drink. 

The shop and your bedroom became your life, the only people you spoke to were those looking for books. You’d collected them for years in the hope that if the outbreak ever got under control, there would be literature somewhere for humanity to remember what it used to be. Or perhaps a relic, serving as a legacy for a species long gone. Something, just to yell at the world and all those to come after, that you were here, even when you weren’t really. You hadn’t quite been here since the day the world had ended. Since the day you had lost everything. And now, twelve years later, all of it just came crashing back. 

The pain was as if someone had crawled into your flesh, peeled your ribs back, and plucked your heart out.

Sarah had become less of a person and more of a concept to you over time. The intangibility that very literally gave you strength when you lay bruised and beaten, held down and overlooked by snarling strangers. She had been your salvation; your everything. Losing her wasn’t something you had truly came back from the first time around, suppressed guilt and fear and worry gnawing at the back of your mind. The reappearance of all of it, overshadowed this time by crippling guilt, was a cruel albeit welcome one. You wanted to feel bad - because much like Joel, it was what you deserved. You had failed - not only as a mother but as a wife, too. You should have just gone home on time that fucking night, but life got in the way as if often used to back then. All those little things that got blown out of proportion like work and deadlines and projects and careers didn’t even matter now. You should have come home. You should have been there.

You didn’t even want to imagine how Joel felt. To you, the ache was a phantom limb - trailing you wherever you went, interwoven with your shadow. To him, it was a stain on his hands that he never seemed to be able to rub out; he could always see a tinge of crimson coating his fingers, ever since that night.

Neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore. 

Yet, even after all of it life simply went on, stuttering but still relentless in its proceedings. Pink, jagged scars marred the flesh of time as it stretched around the metalwork of the lives you had fought to keep, yet lost the worth of anyways. Fate is seldom kind.

It wasn’t too peculiar, this distance. Ironically, even after all these years, you both understood the other perfectly - as if each thought either of you had, each feeling you felt, was respected and loved and relayed by the refuge of your marriage, still. You understood that he was too ashamed by his self-proclaimed failure to speak to you, and he understood that the loss had so wholly devoured you that you wouldn’t have the strength to look in his eyes and be reminded of hers for a while.

The song and dance continued, the delicate persuasion of ensuring not to jolt the fragile existences the other had created for themselves. Joel didn’t come near your bookshop, and you didn’t go near Tommy, lest the words ‘family dinner’ be spoken into existence. Truly, he was idiot enough to suggest it. As if all that your currently brilliant (more like fractured) relationship with your husband (was he still? what about tess?) needed was a dinner with his brother, his sister in law, and the kid he had apparently adopted, lied to, and was now in a rough spot with. Gotta love reunions, no?

In another life, you would have stepped in. You would have spoken to either of them - perhaps even made more of an effort to include Ellie in your own life to ensure that after all she had been through, she wouldn’t feel alone even when she wasn’t doing well with Joel. In this life, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Joel acted like a selfish, moronic liar, sure. But if this kid couldn’t see, that at his very core, he was just plain scared - that he practically shook in his (adorable) cowboy boots anytime someone mentioned what happened to Ellie - then, great, she deserved Joel not realising that it was her decision to save humanity; to pay the price, to do what it took; entirely independent of him, or anyone else. You tamped down on the cynical part of you sneering at the romantic heroism of it all. The world knew now, better than before, how selfish man was. How utterly human, for Joel to struggle to separate his feelings for his own daughter and the one he had taken in; for Ellie to be too caught up in her own view to even consider what Joel was going through. It was almost like one of those plays you used to enjoy reading - like a Greek tragedy. The hamartia of both heroes was humanity alone.

They’d come around, eventually. Joel and Sarah always did, too. 

The irony lay mostly in the fact that you had spent a decade craving him - his comfort and his warmth. The kneading of his large hands on your back after a long day; the scratch of his stubble when he nuzzled into your neck from behind. The years you didn’t have him were spent with only him in mind; a mindless worship of the love you had. Now that he was within reach; close enough to grasp and curl your fingers around, to sink an burrow into; you were… lost. The desperation; the wild frenzy with which you had remembered only them through the years - to have lost one now leaves you clueless about what to do with the other. The cracks that have made their way into your heart - the ones tainting your soul - you see them reflected in him, too. Your first look into his dark eyes told you that he, too, has done too much to be standing here today; that his first kill, too, had been the man he once was. No wonder you can’t bear to look at each other anymore. The grief - not only of what you have both lost, or what you once had, but the grief of who you both used to be - rears its ugly head in any room you find yourselves in together. Look at me, it screams. Look at what the years have done to me. I can’t recognise myself in mirrors anymore. I don’t see who I used to be. I was so beautiful. I was so good. Look at me. Look at me. Look-

Is this how the angels felt when they fell? You’d never know - there were no angels; there was no God. What divinity would allow for any of this to happen? This joke, this mockery of nature. You never were religious, but fumbled prayers had found their way into your vocabulary every night when you didn’t know where Joel and Sarah were. You - who had never even stepped into a church had prayed.

You must have forgotten there was nobody sitting in the sky to listen.

You had made your peace with the mutual decision to avoid him and the girl - not only because you didn’t even know how to start apologizing to her-but because you were content with the mere knowledge that he was here, that he was alive and breathing.

Tommy’s guilt worked in your favor, ensuring that he didn’t try pairing you and Joel up for patrols - likely fearful of the fallout that might occur (but like, what could even happen? another apocalypse?) but the comedown of that meant that you were paired up with Fred, instead. A man who infuriated you to no end, one who found it extremely interesting that you were once married, that you have a child. Had.

His ceaseless questions made you want to rip your hair out, but you refrained - if only so he wouldn’t have another reason to put his arms around you to try ‘calming’ you like last time. He was a bastard, but you didn’t have it in you to challenge him just yet.

Your answers to his enquiries were grunted or simply monosyllabic, your irritation clear as day in the set of your jaw, the slant of your brow. Nevertheless, like the dumbfuck he was, he persisted. So then how was this your fault?

It had been a decent morning. You’d gotten up early in time for the patrol, taken a shower, drank some water and arrived at the stables. But as you stood outside, you could hear the commotion of people inside - boisterous cheering and laughing as if one would hear in a pub. Interest piqued, you inched your way to the entrance of the barn silently, trying to understand what was going on. 

“…fuckin’ whore’s been leading me on for like half a year, turned out she was married the whole time. Dodged a bullet, though. Nearly lost her shit when he told her that her kid died. Went completely apeshit and ruined my goddamn shirt with her snot- nearly clawed through my arm, too. Feel bad for the poor husband, had to yell at everyone to get out just so he could calm her crazy ass down. Everyone’s lost someone, lady. Get over it, right? Plus, girl that age wouldn’t have done too well at a QZ, know what I mean? Wouldn’t have gone untouched, anyways.” He paused for them all to laugh at the supposed comedic gold in his words - him and his little pack of primitives - and all you could do was stand there, glued to the spot in shock.

The fucking audacity. Leading him on? You fucking tried your best to get him to stop talking to you, stop touching you - and you didn’t claw at his arm because you were crazy, you did it because you were fucking panicking and some idiot was making it worse by caging you in. And that was brushing aside what he said about Sarah. No, that had you seeing red, chest heaving.

Fuck, the old you would have broken his nose on the first day. Never is too late to do the right thing, is it? 

Just like before, a laugh was forming in your chest. A giggle at first, before you were chuckling, clapping a hand to your mouth and horrified with your own humour. The joke here was priceless, though. See - the world had ended, God was dead, and you were worried about being lightly reprimanded? Fuck that, and fuck him. You hadn’t let yourself feel fear out there. You hadn’t let yourself feel despair, and you sure as hell hadn’t let yourself feel hope. Joel’s arrival forced you to confront all the pain you had ignored. This cunt of a man was managing to unearth all the anger you had neglected, too. His fucking funeral.

Your tongue sat agitated against your teeth in anticipation, waiting to give way to the venom lacing the words in your brain. 

Fury sparked in your blood, washing away all your hesitation. Fragmented, she etched herself into the ring of black that blew out your pupils; the unfaltering thumping of your heart in your chest. The threads of your fate were now in her slender, silhouetted hands, and all that was left for you to do was obey. Not that you had a choice. 

Before you could so much as blink, you had burst into the crowd. Fred’s eyes widened at the wild snarl on your face, begging and apologizing.

He was unaware, though, of just how sick you had become of apologies. Tommy’s apologies, Joel’s apologies, Maria’s shitty ones, and then the sympathetic apologies you’d been getting from customers because apparently word of Sarah and her role in your life had spread like wildfire throughout Jackson. Joel wouldn’t have shared it, nor would Tommy- not when he knew you were two seconds away from breaking his nose just weeks ago. That left the kid Joel bought-Ellie-or Fred. And something just told you it wasn’t the girl. You’d trust Joel’s judgement blindly any day.

His empty sorrys fell upon deaf ears, his trembling voice cracking as he repeated them over and over.

You grinned, baring your teeth.

“Hello, Fred. Hello, everyone. Having a party and I wasn’t even invited?” You pouted mockingly. “Y’ know what I personally think is absolutely, knee-slappingly hilarious?” You paused, watching their curiosity grow as they fell hook, line and sinker for the cheerful façade, furrowing ther brows in question and stepping in closer. “How untouched you look, asshat.” Your grin dropped just as you rocked back on your heels, surging forward within a split second while throwing all your weight into your fist. 

Just as it collided with the asshat's jaw.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You’ve been…frazzled since Joel came back, fine, but I cannot excuse your behaviour just because I know you or because you’re family. This was absolutely out of line, is that clear?” Maria stopped her pacing to turn to you, expecting a justification or an apology. You offered neither. When you refused to so much as look up from your split knuckles, she threw her hands up, huffing at her husband, who was leaning against the table sheepishly while wincing every time her voice rose as she yelled at you. 

The door swung open and Joel practically stumbled in, eyes searching wildly until they landed on you curled up on a chair with your hands in your lap. Did news seriously spread that fast, even now? Guess people don’t have much to do when the world has ended.

“Look- I know, I know you went through a lot. At first, you were spacey and Tommy told me to just leave it alone. Then, you got the bookshop and you just spent all your time there or on patrols, never even trying to integrate yourself here, and I’ve let it go because he-“ a finger in Tommy’s direction, “-begged me to. Let go of your little…tantrum with Ellie, too. I watched Tommy mope around and I said nothing even when you refused to accept that he hadn’t told you about Joel, for your own good.” Tommy flinched, but she went on. “I just can’t do it this time. You broke Fred’s jaw, you know? He is a contributing, well-liked citizen in Jackson. Not a recluse. I didn’t believe you’d done it until I saw the state of your hand. You’re always so quie-just-just give me one fucking reason you would punch him.” She was panting by the end, her chest falling rapidly under the weight of her own tirade. 

Joel had planted himself directly between you and Maria, as if trying to protect you from the onslaught of her words. He looked more apologetic than you did, hands extending towards her while he took a deep breath, attempting to placate her. 

“Maria-now just wait a damn minute, she wouldn’t-“ 

Was he defending you? When had that happened? When had you become this-this blubbering, weak version of yourself that Joel had to protect? 

The cold, unforgiving numbness loosened its grip; fear, guilt but most strongly, shame coiling in your gut. Maria was right, in her own fucked up way. You had retreated so far back into yourself that all that was left within your grasp now was mere tendrils of who you used to be. 

Sarah would have been proud of me for punching the bastard, though. 

The thought rang in your mind as you raised your head, squared your shoulders. Took the stutter out of your voice, and looked Maria right in the eyes. 

“Your contributing, well-liked citizen said Sarah was lucky to die. That she wouldn’t have gone untouched in a QZ. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. And thanks to how well liked he is, I didn’t get a chance to tell you that he’s been touching me for months. That he took advantage of the fact that I was too fucking broken to say anything, to anyone. It’s not like you would’ve believed me.” You watched both Millers’ faces harden, brows furrowing as fury began sinking her talons in their flesh. Joel looked murderous, jaw set at that angle you knew meant he was livid. Good. You had been, too. Tommy looked shocked, anger painting his features, and his wife just looked terrified, eyes darting from you to Joel, wide and panicked. It made you smile at her, the curl of your mouth dripping with condescension and mockery. 

“Maria, I’m so sorry you’ve had to overlook this many…grievances, let’s call them. I’ll work on my attitude here, I promise. I’ll go to book club and gossip about my husband and my dead daughter. I’ll do my hair and cut my nails and smile at people who don’t fucking deserve it. Hell, I’ll even forgive Tommy.” You pause, nodding at him, watching the relief in his eyes. Smile dropping, you meet Maria’s gaze again. 

“But here’s what I won’t do- I won’t stand in a room with that asshole again without breaking all the other bones in his body. I won’t stay quiet next time his hands are on me - I’ll snap his fucking neck. Anyone else with anything else to say about Sarah - even if it’s just goddamn condolences - will find themselves in a similar predicament. Is that clear?” She blinked at you, mouth wide open at the radical transformation in you as you spoke, taking so long to nod that you doubted she’d heard you at first. You didn’t blame her - you’d folded in on yourself, made yourself small these past few years. Become meek: looking at the floor, wringing your hands; doing absolutely anything to avoid confrontation or issue. You’d been too tired to fight or stand on your own two feet, and everyone had focused on the wobble in your voice; the wet lining in your eyes; the shake of your hands, and just decided that just because you chose not to challenge them, you weren’t capable of it. Fuck that. 

Joel’s eyes shone as he looked at you, chin dipping in acknowledgment as he, too, had a stunned look on his face. You just shrugged back at him, swinging your legs and getting up, walking out of the house without so much as a glance over your shoulder. 

The flame that had forged your spirit - the fire burning in your veins, the one snuffed out long ago - flickered back to life. Dim,  shaky, practically translucent - but ignited. 

And fuck, it felt good to be back. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @breakfastatjoels, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues. dividers by me! series taglist (same rule: message/comment to be added or removed, no hard feelings): @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @planet-marz1, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin, @casa-boiardi, @noisynightmarepoetry, @chiogarza, @jasminedragoon, @daddy-din, @moonlightdivine, @stickthegremlin, @jamesmasbone, @avampiregf, @amanitacowboy

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us x reader #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller self insert #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #ellie williams #joel miller x reader series

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Reader [6]

description: Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

word count: 14.5k

trigger warnings: gore/violence (as per) blood, nakedness? Fear of drowning. I have said this before, Dove has a dark past with themes that include abuse in a relationship (torment, manipulation, prostitution etc) drug use, please do not read this if this is not okay with you. Inspired by Last Night in Soho (dir. Edgar Wright) which is rated 18.

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“So? What about the other gods?” Marc asked, witholding a heavy sigh as he looked over at Khonshu, Dove still nestled into his chest. The vibrations of his words rattled against her forehead, and she wished that for just a single second she could get a fucking break from the life she lived, from the virus that seemed to spread to every area of her life, from knowing the only denominator that linked every awful thing brought upon herself was her.

If it wasn’t her every waking moment spent pining after any scrap of kindness Marc could give her, then it was wishing Steven was here to talk to. He always knew how to make it better. How to cheer her up. He was a lot like Grace in that sense, that he knew exactly which part of her brain was troubling her and managed to weasel his way into the darkness, draw out the sickness and replace it with only good. And if it wasn’t wishing Layla would understand she was not a home-wrecking mistress, then it was her dreams being riddled by Grace, the one sore spot in her heart that seemed to never heal.

She was starting to forget what Grace looked like, she’d realised with a numbing pain. Started to forget where her freckles were, the way she smelled, the shades of honeycomb blonde in her soft locks. She was forgetting, an ailment no amount of healing armour could eradicate.

She’d rather be ripped to shreds all over again if she could see her in the flesh just one more time. Even as a ghost, even as a mirage, she’d take it all again.

“Are they just gonna stand by and allow someone to unleash Ammit?” Marc asked his keeper, his large hand still resting on her crown with a warm softness. She sniffed, pulling away from him with a troubled frown.

“To signal for an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath,” Khonshu explained, resting his goliath form in an oddly casual sprawl on an abandoned car.

“What’s the worst they could do?” Dove asked emptily, her tired eyes catching sight of the dead bodies for a split second before she quickly looked away, pretending her stomach didn’t lurch at the puddle of red sap that pooled beneath them.

“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison Seth and I in stone,” That had her head shooting up to the bird-like god, brain whirring at the golden ticket out of this whole mess.

“What?” She asked, stepping towards him, “You mean they can do that? They can relieve us of duty as your avatars?”

“See how you fair against Harrow without the protection of healing armour, little mutt,” Khonshu snapped, and the girl deflated on the spot. That was something she hadn’t thought of. Even if she were no longer Seth’s avatar, Harrow would still be planning on eradicating innocent lives. It was too late for taking back that duty now, she was in far too deep to bury her head in the sand now, no matter how much she’d wanted to.

How many moles had Grace had? Four, in a horizontal line from her ribs to her spine, or was it five? Fuck, what colour were her eyes? Blue, she knew, but what colour exactly, what shade, what hue?

“Alright, so what?” Marc bit back, throwing his hands up in defeat. He, too, had had the fleeting jump in his chest at the idea of being free from his servitude. “You got any good ideas?”

The god thought for a moment, his skeletal chest taking a deep, weighted breath behind its linen robes. A sigh of dismay.

“I have a bad one,” He said, and with a small movement he disappeared into the cool breeze passing over the two of them, as if he were nothing more than a pile of ash, or a thought thrown to the ether.

The two of them spared a glance at one another, Dove’s demeanour still shaken when Marc surveyed her with a soft, cocoa gaze. The wind picked up around them before either of them could speak, Dove’s hair whipping around her sticky face, catching on her cheekbones, the need to peel and scratch and gnaw at her skin overwhelming her with the texture, anything to get the damned blood off.

“What is he doing?” She asked, her hand subconsciously reaching out for Marc’s when the world around her began to darken. But not just for herself, she realised, but because the sun was disappearing.

No, that couldn’t be right. Throwing a squinted, pained look at the clear blue sky, the smell of the metallic tang on her skin slapping her in the face. Her eyes locked on the white orb in the sky that was indeed being devoured by a slightly smaller black circle moving in front of it, the moon. Khonshu was creating a solar eclipse. Switching the light out on an entire section of the world, drawing far too much attention to himself than would be allowed by the gods.

“Sending the gods a signal they can’t ignore,” His deep voice echoed around the clearing, the wind carrying the sound to their sensitive ears.

She felt Marc take her hand as darkness swept over them, unnaturally fast for any solar eclipse, tugging her back towards the town where cries of startled citizens were beginning to meet her ears.

“Come on,” He murmured, his warmth grounding her astonished mind, her eyes quickly adjusting to the shadow that swallowed the sands.

“I don’t know whether to applaud him for the guts or curse him for putting you in danger,” She mumbled, not missing the way their hands seemed to gum together from the equal amount of ichor on them. She didn’t miss the way Marc’s knuckles were blown open, the flesh around them sore and sliced from his fist fight with the mercenaries. She made a note to fix them later.

“That tends to be the way with Khonshu,” Marc replied sourly, the two of them taking a long set of old sandstone steps back down to the city.

She huffed, more agitated than he had ever seen her with a solid frown on her normally gentle forehead.

“Well maybe when all of this is over, we find a way to get rid of them both together?” She proposed, and he couldn’t help but lurch at the fact she saw a together for the two of them after all of this. Not together in love, he chided himself, but Layla had been the only other person to ever see him as worth sticking around for. It was nice to have Dove too.

Flashing her a barely there smile, he squoze her hand lightly. It fell the second he caught sight of the bird headed god and his jackal like companion waiting for them at the bottom of the steps as if they heard their devious little plan.

“That was abit over the top, don’t you think?” Marc sassed, keeping hold of Dove’s hand and steering her away from Seth’s looming gaze, even if to hold off his intruding presence for a second longer than necessary.

“Hurry, they’re gathering their avatars now,” Khonshu demanded, the two of the goliath gods trailing behind their own minions.

“Aren’t they scattered all over the world?” Marc asked, and Dove was glad he was here with her at least, she was sure by the way her stomach was twisting so painfully she would have retched her breakfast by now. She was going to have to meet more gods? Not just any but the Ennead, the effective high council of Egyptian Deities and plead their case to the ancient beings? The current track record set by the Gods she had met had caused nothing but misery for her short life, so the idea of introducing eight more to that mix sent her chest pounding.

“Yes, but for a meeting with the Ennead, a portal presents itself anywhere,” Seth cut in, halting the two humans in their step. His face, his presence, was not one that they simply could get used to. A chill ran down both their arms, and she felt him tug her just a bit closer to him.

“Okay, so where’s ours?” Marc asked, and as if to summon the portal in question, a low rumble only they seemed to notice rocked the earth beneath their feet, though it seemed too delicate to be an earthquake, too harsh to be oncoming footsteps. It was then that bricks in the nearby building began peeling away, crumbling in on themselves to form a long archway corridor. The walls were lined with hieroglyphs she was certain wasn’t part of that building, more likely wherever it was the portal led to.

“Last time I spoke to the gods, they banished me,” Khonshu spoke solemnly as the two of them stepped towards the doorway. A faint, amber light flickered against the symbols etched into the stone walls, illuminating them with a golden glow that reminded her of Seth’s staff.

“Join the club,” Seth growled with a bitter chuckle, and Dove fought the urge to point out the sheer amount of times he had slaughtered his own brother for power that had led to his banishment, but she thought better of it than to be the one receiving his wrath. “Our case against Harrow must be indisputable,”

The two of them hesitantly stepped forward, Marc subconsciously moving in front of her as if to want to head in there first, check if it was safe. But there was no time for heroics, and he didn’t doubt Seth wouldn’t have her defend herself if things started to go south. Hearing the two gods retreating behind them, Dove whipped around to see the beasts slinking off through a nearby street.

“Aren’t you coming?” It was perhaps the only time she would ever want the God of Death there to support her case. Though, upon thinking about it, she guessed Osiris seeing his killer may not go down well considering the god’s reputation.

He snickered darkly, throwing a glance to her over his muscled shoulder that rippled with corded tendons with every movement.

“You know I love a family reunion.

Dove’s jaw slacked, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. They were so fucked.

Marc huffed, and the two of them stood looking down the long corridor with a shared hesitance. Once they went in, they were going in blind. Into a space where there were beings even more powerful than the gods they were bound to. Who knows what the Ennead were capable of, whether they were known to hold grudges around two exiled gods and the humans they deemed worthy of their service. Would they see right through her? Right through this innocent little marionette she played every single second. Would they see her for exactly who she was, would they see the chaos festering in her heart? The rot eating away at her bones?

“Ready?” Marc whispered, the sound barely meeting her ears. He looked over at her gently, eyes wide and anxious, though he seemed more worried about her than himself. Her eyes were glazed over, tired. Her hand was cold in his palm, yet she gripped onto him tightly as if he were the only thing she had to ground herself. She looked back at him, though he could tell she was far away, she wasn’t here with him, the same as this morning in the room, when her smile had cracked for just a single second and he saw the sadness behind her eyes that rarely appeared. He hated it.

She didn’t speak, just nodded and it was enough for him to draw her even closer, hold her hand even tighter.

The two stepped into the tunnel, their footsteps echoing down the long chamber, engulfed in a cloak of darkness from the lack of sunlight. It certainly wasn’t a new building they were entering judging by the erosion on the crumbling walls, though the hieroglyphs were surprisingly well preserved. A light flickered at the end of the passage, the only thing giving them any idea where to go as they clung towards one another. A large figure of a head came into view, starting small but the closer they got it became clear the figurine was actually huge, large enough to tower over both of them ten times over. She guessed by the head piece and the jewellery they were royalty, or at least the spouse of a pharaoh, well respected. Revered. A tomb for an esteemed member of Ancient Egyptian society.

She remembered Steven showing her a special edition guide to Egyptian myths they had in stock just three weeks ago, how he’d been waiting for them to get the shipment in for months since it was so low stocked everywhere else. He’d nudged her every chance he could get when they finally got to take their lunch break, turning his new prize to her to show her every diagram or photo or excerpt he could, telling her more facts that he’d read in other books, talking her ear off the entire train ride home too. She thought him the smartest man she’d ever met; thought his intellect, his sheer excitement to share his interest with her was the sweetest and most attractive thing she’d ever seen. He certainly didn’t make it easy for her to not kiss him silly right there on the spot.

Two more figures came into view, two behemoth statues flanking each side of the head, one a falcon, a distinctive crown atop his stone head, the other a woman with two large ostrich wings as her arms, curled around herself.

“I can’t believe it,” Marc’s head whipped to the side, Steven’s face reflecting in the polished golden engravings on the stone walls, his chocolate eyes lit up in wonder like a boy on christmas. His hands clasped together in front of him nervously, though his mouth was pulled into a gobsmacked smile, his gaze flicking around the enormous expanse of the room as if to take it all in at once. “Oh- my days. We’re inside- we’re inside the Great Pyramid of Giza,”

Marc’s head flicked to the room that opened up into a colossal square, unmistakably a pyramid built for the worthiest of pharaohs.

“Steven said we’re in-” Marc started, his voice low, gentle as if to not alert whatever it was waiting for them at the end of the corridor, only for her to cut him off with an equally hushed tone.

“Great Pyramid, yeah” She nodded, her eyes stunned and overwhelmed. Nodding towards the Falcon statue, she pointed with their joined hands, “That’s Horus wearing the double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt.”

“God of Healing and Protection?” Marc asked, recalling the few things he knew about the other gods. She nodded, her eyes never ripping away from the expanse of priceless relics in front of them.

“As a man, yes. Horus as a Falcon represents Kingship,” She explained, watching his eyes trail over her face with a strange look, softening just a touch more if it were even possible. Turning back to nod towards the other statue, “The woman with the ostrich wings is Ma’at, judge of the hearts of the dead. She represents justice and order, balance and morality. This was a Pharaoh who wanted the greatest of respects and fortune in his afterlife,”

Marc’s jaw slackened at her brain, practically seeing the cogs turning in her bright eyes, the flame from the torches dotted around the tomb giving her face a beautifully warm glow. She looked divine, as if it should be her with statues erected in her honour, as if she were the one who deserved a wonder of the world in her name.

“I think I’m in love,” Steven’s besotted voice came from the reflection behind him, feeling the alter’s eyes enraptured with her face just as much as he was. Marc nodded once, ripping his gaze away from her to focus on the unfamiliar territory ahead.

Now was not the time for childish feelings, he chided himself, though Steven’s words had cut him deep, confirming for Marc something he already knew. It wasn’t just a little crush he was in the way of - Steven was in love with this woman. And he was wrecking it, he was simply a wall in between two gentle creatures that deserve nothing else but each other.

He always knew he ruined everything.

A frown settled on his face, avoiding her gaze with a sneer as they ventured forward into the tomb.

“Come on,” He murmured, unclasping her hand and quietly stepping into the cold catacomb.

“One evening,” He had said, waving his finger in her face at the door like a master scolding its pup, “You girls can have one evening out,”

It was probably because the neighbours had started getting suspicious about the two girls that would sit in the window but would never leave, or perhaps it was a treat for being such good little victims and remaining complacent. They didn’t know. At first Grace had said it was a test, a test of loyalty. It wouldn’t be unlike him to give them a sick game to test if they really were faithful to his command. But perhaps it was a treat? After the two years they had remained in that house, remained together, this was the first time they were allowed outside that wasn’t the garden.

They were ecstatic.

Don’t be fooled, he was sure to collar the two of them before they could step foot out the door, his fingers squeezing just the slightest bit to tell them exactly what would be waiting if they were to run or go for help. Don’t be stupid, now girls, he reminded with a low grumble. And they were gone.

It had started with a brisk walk down the street, past the abandoned hotel that sat opposite their bedroom window, its welcome sign springing to life every evening even after its years out of business. The girls had a prance in their steps, truly with no idea where they were headed since they couldn’t see past a certain point from their spot in the window. Once the road turned into a long slope down, the houses getting bigger, the yards getting greener, the road getting quieter, was when it settled in that they were outside again.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Grace whispered, her head tipped to the heavens, the crease on her brow ironed out. She took a deep breath, her mouth pulling out into the biggest smile she had ever mustered, Dove swore she could count every single one of her teeth. “We’re fucking OUTSIDE!” She yelled, no doubt waking up the neighbours. It was dangerous, drawing attention to themselves, but Grace couldn’t care. The Summer breeze filled her lungs, the seven o’clock sun fell over her face in full force, the feeling seeming to be extra warm than what she was used to. Because there was no window there. Because they were free.

Until eleven, in four short hours, but they were free nonetheless. The birds had never sounded louder, the air never tasted so sweet.

She couldn’t help but join Grace in taking a long, deep breath, a laugh bubbling out her throat, loud and joyful. Perhaps the happiest she’d felt in years. Like slipping out of a cage, a bird with its wings spread. She rose her arms to her sides, feeling the wind whip entirely around her middle, and suddenly the two of them were running. The street was empty, save for the two sets of footsteps slapping against the concrete as they sprinted down the descending hill, their fingers brushing against each others every now and then before Grace reached over and clasped her hand tightly against hers.

They were free.

It wasn’t long before they’d reached the beach, the one mother showed her as a child, the one she’d been to when the boys were little. It was nothing spectacular, nothing like they’d see in a foreign country. The sea was cold as anything since it was still England after all, the sand was mostly rocks, but the sound of the waves rolling in on their little slice of heaven.

The two lay on the hard sand, shoes kicked off and fingers buried into the course grain, just feeling. The sea was far from lapping at their feet; though ice cold, they wouldn’t find it in themselves to care anyway. The freezing water would barely even scrape the surface of the elation they felt now, there truly wasn’t anything that could simmer the way their hearts pounded in their ears.

“Three hours left,” She reminded, only to have Grace tut her and swat at her arm.

“We won’t be late, stop worrying,” The blonde chided, sand sticking to the side of her cheek as she turned her head in the sand to see her companion, “Just breathe,”

She knew she’d meant ‘breathe it all in’, the day, the feeling of their cage door being blown open, but she couldn’t help but do as Grace had commanded and take a deep salty breath in.

The sun warmed her as the shore breeze cooled her. A balance. An equilibrium. Her mind was blank for the first time in a long time. The waves may as well have been the thoughts ebbing and flowing from her mind.

“In some other universe, this is our life every single day,” She finally muttered, as if too scared to speak it into existence and risk waking up from whatever dream they were having. Grace snickered, their fingers meeting once more. Grounding. Warm.

“Do you think so?” Grace asked, her cornflour eyes squinting in the sun, watching the way her friend’s eyes remained closed, soaking up the entire thing. “You think we’re together in other universes too?”

“I hope so,” She responded, her toes sinking into the warm sand just a touch more, clinging to the back of her bare calves. “I hope I’m with you in all of them,”

Grace smiled, and her eyes opened then, meeting the sky with a tired blink before she turned to where Grace was staring at her. The two simply looked at one another, as if looking in a mirror of themselves though their shell was entirely different. Like their souls had met an equal in their gaze.

“I don’t care which one I’m in as long as I have you,” Grace whispered, clenching onto her hand with a soft desperation. She sighed, turning back to stare at the sky, a new openness at the difference the vast blueness held from her bedroom ceiling.

“I hate that house.” She confessed, though Grace already knew she did. “I feel like I’m-” She welled up, and Grace shifted to rest her forehead on her shoulder, “I feel like I’m in a coffin. Like I’m in a tomb. Like I’m screaming and banging on the door but everyone assumes I’m dead already,” Her brothers. They never responded to her letters, texting was too risky. But the envelope with the money made it to them once a month, she always sent it with the hope they would understand, understand she hadn’t left, that she wasn’t gone. But perhaps she was. She felt already gone. Felt like a corpse walking. “Maybe I already am dead,”

“I would never let that happen to you,” Grace whispered, nuzzling her face into her bare shoulder, “Me and you in every universe, right?” She asked, nudging her arm against hers to make her point, “Cage, house. Beach, tomb. I’m with you in every one of them,”

Dove’s breath was caught in her chest when she saw the sheer size of the pyramid. They didn’t call it the Great Pyramid for no reason, she supposed, but the sculptures alone were some of the biggest pieces of art she had ever seen, larger than any relics they had at work.

Marc took a slight lead, heading towards the centre of the room, where the floor lowered into a pit-like square, the floor a cold stone and undisturbed. Nine smaller, seated statues lined the steps down to the trench, one for each of the Ennead they guessed quickly. Eight doorways, similar to the one they had just exited from, dotted the remaining walls. A slight flash of light came from two of them, where a young woman stepped through the door to the close right.

She was beautiful, Dove noted immediately. Her sepia skin glowed in the dark lamp light, her midnight black hair silk over her shoulders. She was effortlessly graceful, beautiful gold jewellery winding over her wrists and neck, her eyes fox like yet gentle as she peered at the two newcomers.

“Khonshu’s antics are unparalleled.” She said with an accent Dove couldn’t place other than the melody it spelled over her every word. “You must be his avatar,” She said with a glint in her eye Dove knew was not just from the fire light. She was only a single pace behind Marc by the time he reached the bottom of the steps, yet she felt entirely lost, as though she were just floating her way down to where the woman met them, her legs jelly and wobbling.

“And who are you?” Marc asked politely, though she could sense the wariness in his tone. Untrusting. Ready to make a run for it if it came to it. She saw how his shoulders held the tension he rarely seemed to displace, she wished she could simply shove her face in between his shoulder blades, hug him like she had in the room. Feel him relax under her touch. She wished they were anywhere else but here. Anywhere but where the walls seemed inevitable, seemed to seal in around her, their very purpose to keep the dead inside.

“I’m Yatzil, Avatar of Hathor,” The woman announced, nearing the pair with a smile. Friendly, Dove noted, but she saw the way Marc tensed even further as she reached them, a look of plain fear flashing over his expression, as if she were about to be snatched away from him by the relatively kind looking woman. “Goddess of Music and Love? Surely Khonshu mentioned her,”

Marc shook his head slightly, a grimace on his battered face, “The gods aren’t exactly his favourite topic,”

“Not even when they are old friends?” Yatzil pushed, and Dove straightened up when she saw the playful way the avatar studied Marc with. Something boiled in her chest, something hot and sour, like her lungs were trying to choke her from the inside out. She didn’t like the way she was looking at Marc. To say he was hers only to look at drew even more tumultuous feelings in the pit of her stomach, but unlike Layla, who could barely stand the sight of him without steam blowing out her ears, she was interested. She was flirty.

She wanted out of this sinking ship already before she did something she would regret.

The woman looked over Marc’s shoulder then, only just noticing the shadow that seemed to peak from behind him, her eyes wide yet calculating, a vast contrast to Marc’s furrowed brow that glared at everything.

“And who might you be?” Yatzil’s voice was mellow as she took in the new figure, her gentle gaze never wavering. Perhaps she wasn’t so much flirting as she had guessed, and she wanted to chide herself for getting so worked up so quickly. Maybe she was just overly friendly to everyone, being the Goddess of Love and all that.

She was almost embarrassed with how quickly she had become possessive over Marc. It was hard not to when she was accompanied by an extremely attractive man that seemed to draw eyes everywhere he went. She thought she had enough trouble with Steven and Dylan, let alone a Goddess.

Chancing a look at Marc, the two of them agreeing solely with a single silent exchange, she told Yatzil her name.

“I’m Avatar of Seth,” She confessed, not missing Yatzil’s face tightening, her smile becoming a tad more forced. Her once gentle eyes became intrigued, looking the girl head to toe, before turning back to Marc.

There it was. The turn. The moment she realised she was not to be trusted. That she was rotten to her marrow.

“I did not know Seth had a new avatar,” She said, all traces of warmth gone as she surveyed the younger woman with a new suspicion, “How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” Marc cut in, sensing Dove’s anxiety by the way she fidgeted with her fingers, grabbing her hand back into his own to stop her from picking at the skin around her thumb. He hated it when she did that, saw how sore it made her digits, how she would bring band aids with her in her bag in case any of the scabs broke skin, “It’s not why Khonshu called this meeting,”

“Yatzil,” A voice called down to them, and it was then that the pair realised the rest of the avatars had made it, standing behind each of their podiums that represented their gods. They looked like regular people, though she supposed so did she and Marc. That was the point of them. It made Dove wonder if there were hundreds of them out there, if she had walked past them in the street before, thinking nothing of them.

Yatzil gave them a strained smile, leading them towards where the four other avatars stood, waiting to pass conviction on the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter after that stilted introduction, as though they were heading to a chopping block with cuffs and a bag over their head, the avatars facing them all judge, jury and executioners.

Her trial was over before she had opened her mouth. Just the very sound of Seth’s name had set Hathor on edge, let alone when she faced the god Seth had repeatedly assassinated. His own brother, Osiris. Or even his sister, Isis.

“Have they told you how this works?” Yatzil asked calmly, heading to the steps towards her own podium, where Hathor’s proud statue watched them approach, a pair of long cow horns straddling a large sun disk signalling her seat.

“Not really,” Marc answered for the two of them as Dove naturally fell behind his shoulder, gaze flicking to the new sets of eyes that peered down on their lowered figures. She hated the way they picked her apart with their unfriendly glares, vultures circling a carcass waiting to dive in and clean her off to the bone. They would have her for breakfast any second now. “Is there somethin’ we should know?”

No, they wouldn’t. Marc would never let that happen. Marc would protect her. She trusted him with every fibre of her being, trusted him as much as she trusted Steven. He would protect her.

“I try not to fight it, it’s a strange sensation but you’ll get used to it,” Yatzil said vaguely, bunching her rust coloured dress in her hands to ascend the ancient steps, her satin-like hair rolling down her back as she turned away from them. Her head flicked back jarringly, Hathor’s spirit consuming her body smoothly, as did the other avatars, the humanity flickering from their harsh stares and swirling into a bright white, the gods taking place in their vessels.

“In attendance,” Yatzil’s voice was still the same, though it held a new level of power, a confidence that only an other worldly being could carry, the clarity of a creature that had seen the earth for thousands of years, “Horus, Isis, Tefnut, Osiris, and Hathor. To hear the accounts of Khonshu and Seth,

A cold spread down her spine, minimal compared to the other few times Seth had taken her body as his own, gentle almost. A soft whoosh of power flooded through her vertebrae, spreading up her neck and through her throat, releasing through her lips as a small sigh. It was benign, as though there was simply a hand stroking down her back compared to the leg numbing force he usually took her with, the kind that made her head dark and fuzzy, the force of being locked out her own body, this felt nothing like that. Perhaps Seth was on his best behaviour in front of his older brother who they both knew could exile the God of Death to stone.

Tormenting and breaking a young girl's mind did not send the message of urgency the four of them needed the Ennead to understand.

She felt Marc’s hand twitch in her own, causing him to drop her palm once more, and she guessed Khonshu had also taken his place inside his avatar. Yatzil would have had a heart attack had she been put through what Seth had tormented her with if she thought this was a ‘strange sensation’.

The weight of Osiris’ glare fell upon her shoulders, and it became clear there was no love lost from the God as she looked upon his frown.

“Brother,” The growl emitted from the human man’s throat, a sneer tugging at his lips, “I trust this is your doing, you and your newfound play thing,” He eyed Dove’s cowering body with disgust, a calculating scowl on his relatively young face. The man couldn’t have been older than thirty five, dressed in a smart business suit and a face that not a single laugh line marred, as though he hadn’t smiled a day in his life. Fitting, she thought snidely, for a god so serious.

Yet those thoughts felt like Seth’s. And with it brought a new wave of peril, unlike the one that came after she would black out. Could he hear her thoughts? Had he buried herself into her head, her only place of solitude? Or maybe was her brain just that cruel all on her own?

“You should be on your knees thanking me, brother,” The words spewed from her chest unprompted, and it took everything in her not to clasp her hand over her mouth to stop it. It felt like someone had reached into her lungs and dragged the accusation up her oesophagus. It was a clap of thunder that echoed around the enclosed chamber, a dark cry that met her ears, leaving her gobsmacked that that was her voice.

“And why is that, brother?” A woman to Osiris’ right, his sister-wife Isis, snarled. Dove wanted to sink to the floor and beg for forgiveness from the two deities that looked at her with a disdain that tainted her skin. She wanted to plead for them to send her home, send her away from all of this mess, just please stop, stop looking at me like that. But instead what came out was the voice, his voice, ripping from her throat with a ferocity that was nothing like hers.

“Were it not for me, dearest sister, and Khonshu, we would not be here meeting to discuss a matter that threatens us all,” Seth’s growl seemed unnatural coming from such a small creature, her eyes wide and afraid as she cursed at the gods with his tongue. Whether it were Seth speaking or not, she was the one they looked to with hatred.

A slender, dark-haired man flanking the other side of Osiris, undoubtedly their son Horus, snorted bitterly, his eagle eyes gazing down the steps to the woman whose head snapped to him.

“You threaten us all, Set. You and your chaos. Your need for vengeance.” He spoke with an Irish lilt, his mouth sneering just as well as his father’s, “It is clear by your actions there is no end to the darkness and turmoil you wish to cause mankind, as well as to your own kind.”

Osiris raised a hand to his son, taking over the brunt of the reprimanding. Dove didn’t doubt this had been what it was like for centuries, she knew the pain of being the oldest and having to mother her own brothers. Though, exiling them to a stone for all eternity for endangering lives was a new concept even for her.

The eyes narrowed in on her as Osiris puffed out his chest to speak, his voice a calm command that rattled her bones.

“It is our job in these vessels to remain unseen, to keep the peace between our world and the humans,” He was rather quiet despite the petrifying effect he held over Dove, the way his and every other god sized her up as she quivered in her place. “Do you not hear how they cry out? That is fear. You scare them, brother, for your own personal enjoyment. We have long since understood you love the taste of their horror. Imagine the hatred they would feel if they saw what lay beneath that young flesh.”

Dove’s eyes lined with tears. She knew the insults were directed at her counterpart that could hear them just as well as she could, that she felt bristling uncomfortably in the back of her mind at the sound of the offence, yet the darkened eyes and sneers they accounted her with churned her stomach in guilt as if this were her own trial. Her own sentencing.

They would fear her if they knew who she really was. What she really was. And the sick part of her knew the darkness had laid under her skin long before any of this. She choked on the words Seth tried to force out of her, gritted her teeth for him to keep quiet, to just let the onslaught end. Let her sentence be carried out, let her be hung, drawn and quartered under their resentful gaze even if to let the pain end, just let it end, just let me go, release me from this life-

“Alright now-” Marc’s voice was fuzzy behind her, the slightest step he took forward towards the gods was stopped by Osiris’ angered voice, a firm look snapping to the new culprit.

“And you. You’ve been banished once for nearly exposing us Khonshu,” Just like that, their attention had been stolen from the pitiful girl that shook in her spot as if no more than a street dog, mangy and yet guilty looking. “And you know we despise your garishness,” He continued, Marc stopping in his place to hear what the high immortal had to say, “Your showy masks and weapons. But manipulate the sky again, and we will imprison you in stone.”

“Spare me your self-righteous threats,” Marc’s voice was a strained call of anger. Clearly Khonshu had a lot to say to the council, Dove mused to herself behind a weakened expression, “I was banished for not abandoning humanity, unlike the rest of you,”

“We have not abandoned humanity,” Horus chimed in, a pinched glower on his young face, “They abandoned us. We simply trust our avatars to carry out our services without calling undue attention to ourselves,” His eyes shifted back to the young woman who gulped under his fire. “Is this why you’ve resurrected the one who caused them so much pain? In the name of aiding the humans? Look at the bloodshed that has already been drawn under her hand,”

He nodded to the state Dove was in, the gummy redness that stuck to her arms, that buried under her nails, that smeared across her face. There was no denying that she had caused such a massacre. There was no running, no hiding from their judging eyes.

“Avatars are not enough! We need the might of gods. Return from the opulence of the Overvoid before you lose this realm. Seth has been the only one brave enough to unleash his strength on those who deserve it,” Marc jolted back as Khonshu left his body, a deep draw of breath expanding his lungs. Dove’s eyes flicked to him in sorrow, seeing the toll the god was taking on him, even if just for a second, the urge to bury her face into his arm and ask to go home overwhelmed her.

“The avatars that remain here are simply meant to observe. We decided long ago we did not wish to meddle in the affairs of man,” Osiris spoke calmly, though the order was clear. The two of them were to submit, to yield under their commands.

“We will decide our best course of action,” Tefnut cut in, under the guise of a glamorous earth-brown woman, her shirt a pop of reds and oranges that brought out her hooded dark eyes even in the lowlight of the tomb. Her gaze was just as intimidating as the others, though she looked at Dove with something more akin to understanding than the rest. The eyes of an elder, who had seen more than the others. A wisdom that only came with thousands of years on the earth they deemed unworthy of their protection. “Speak your purpose,”

“We call for judgement against Arthur Harrow,” Her own voice constricted at the rage that had now overcome Seth’s words, the vitriol that settled under her skin, that boiled her blood for a fight that was not hers.

“The charges?” Came Isis, in the form of a placid, moonlight woman, her doe-like, hazelnut stare serene yet piercing when accompanied with the disappointed purse on her cherry blossom lips.

“Conspiracy to release Ammit,” Khonshu’s exclaim ripped its way through Marc’s chest as a single tear dropped down the man’s tawny cheek from the effort in which the god tore at his psyche.

“That is a heavy accusation, Khonshu,” Osiris said seriously, bringing his hands together as if to search himself for guidance. The man took a deep breath, a silence settling over the room for a moment, the five avatars awaiting to hear their superior's judgement.

She practically felt Marc’s heart pounding in his bones, heard the way the deep breaths rattled his lungs, how his chest burned with effort. She was glad for them at least that Seth had listened to her plea to hold his, her, tongue, allowing Marc to take the brunt of the conversation. She knew the recklessness of the god would only dig them their own grave, that they would be left with little to no hope of taking on Harrow without his help.

Osiris sighed, looking to one of the smaller doorways burrowed into the side of the pyramid. “Let us summon the accused,” He ordered, an orange flicker of light emerging from the catacomb. Dove felt her chest seize at the whoosh of fresh air that came through the doorway, hearing two weary footsteps making their way towards them, scraping against the sand that dusted the hard, stone floor.

And with them, Arthur Harrow appeared.

Handsome for a man of his age, yet his eyes were soulless blue pits, little to no remorse for his schemes behind them. Instead, he seemed to be excited, jumping for the chase, the cat and mouse game the three of them had going. He seemed almost animated to see their newest intervention to halt his plans as he stepped into the tomb, a fake look of bewilderment on his older face.

His hair was greying wisps around his jaw, his suit a plain mahogany two piece that dragged against his espadrilles. He slowly stepped towards them with a cold stare, his jaw clenched in a hidden smirk as he sought the attention of the Ennead.

“So I see from Khonshu’s current makeshift avatar, the purpose for this meeting must be nefarious,” He said plainly, the false innocence in his expression causing a hot anger to wash over Dove’s face.

This time it was her own. Seth was still there, dormant behind her cranium, still seething from his reprimanding from his older brother, twisted with hate at the sight of Harrow, but the overwhelming feeling of outrage was hers.

“Not to mention this poor little soul Seth has taken as his own,” His blue pools of nothing slid to her, the dare to retaliate set and matched in his eyes, “The young one knows nothing of the trouble she’s causing, this is business well beyond her understanding,”

A threat. A call for a challenge. A taunt for her to show what she hid from the world, what festered inside her this whole time. What he had seen with a single touch of her wrist the first day they’d met in the museum.

There is a darkness in you.

And then it was that night all over again. It was the screaming, it was the pure, visceral hatred she had felt for him, for the man that had put her there. It was knowing she was never going home, that she was never going to see her sweet niece grow up to run rings around her teachers. It was knowing her brothers wished for nothing to do with her. It was knowing every one of her letters went unanswered.

And chaos, oh there is chaos,

It was remembering Grace’s laugh through a sob and the fact she would never hear it again. It was the way the light from the abandoned hotel sign next door lit up her room with red, something she had always hated, she could never sleep for the brightness of it. Then again, she struggled to sleep anyway. It was the red of the shoes the girls wore, the other girls, the others from the club. The emerald room, the way they watched her dance like a puppet on a string before things truly went wrong.

Something wicked this way comes.

It was knowing her brothers couldn’t stand the sight of her because of him, because of the choices she’d made for him. For love. She wanted to scoff. It was the men that came at night, the ones that she saw in her dreams even now, the ringleader of them all being the one to tell her what a good little lapdog she’d been for him. The one she’d called boyfriend.

It was the knife, it was the blood. It was the body that burned as she’d torched the house in her escape.

And I see you are truly something wicked.

“You know exactly why we are here,” Khonshu cried from behind her, though Harrow took no notice of the call, his mouth twitching to fight off a smirk as he saw the way her chest deflated at the sight of him, knowing he knew her. He knew her, the way Seth knew her.

The way she was terrified even now that Marc and Steven would someday know her.

“Rip his tongue out,” Seth hissed into her ear, chomping at the bit to be let out from the slight control she had over him in front of the Ennead.

“I must admit I do not miss the sound of that voice.” Harrow turned solemnly to the gods, the nervousness falling over his face like a performance. “But speak, old master, to the point,”

“Do you not seek to release Ammit from her tomb?” Khonshu accused, Marc’s body being seized by the god’s might. Dove grabbed his wrist in her own when she saw his chest heaving heavier by the moment. The man looked as if he might throw up any second from the weight of it.

“I was in the desert, but if visiting the sands were a crime, the line of sinners would be longer than the nile” Harrow said calmly, his hands weaving together in front of him to solidify the guiltless ploy he was giving, “Khonshu has searched for Ammit’s tomb since he ensnared be into his service. His vision is obscured by jealousy, paranoia and his-”

“COWARD,” Seth struck her chest with a lightning bolt of fury, the growl drawling from her throat in a volume that made her jump, Marc glancing her way when he felt her fingers clutch him ruthlessly, “Filthy, conniving CRAVEN,”

“Do not trust the word of shamed gods,” Harrow countered, turning to glare at the pair that looked at him helplessly, their chests pounding with the strain of a deity overtaking their vocal chords, “These two are unhinged, as willing as one another to cause destruction in the human world. And as for their avatars themselves,” Harrow huffed, though a smarmy smile shadowed his face as he looked between the two of them, “Well, they are about as unwell as the gods they serve,”

“How do you mean?” Hathor asked, a small frown scrunching her gentle almond eyes.

Harrow considered the two of them, his piercing gaze falling on the young woman first, a hint of malice flicking over his face as he watched her squirm under his ruthless stare, as if waiting for the killing blow, waiting for him to run a sword clean through her sternum. Get it over with, her eyes pleaded, let this be done, shoot me between the eyes and set me free.

“This girl,” He began, her breath catching in her lungs, “She seems innocent enough, what with the crocodile tears and the deer in headlights look about her,” Harrow gave her one last sneer, before turning back to face the gods with a faux woeful look plastered on his face, “But this fawn is in fact the hunter with a loaded rifle. I have seen what she is capable of, the anger and vengeance the tortured soul wishes to unleash on those who stand in her way, the corruption in her heart- it’s no wonder Seth found her suitable for his needs,”

Her mouth had gone dry, she realised as she swallowed roughly, tears burning behind her eyes, she felt Marc staring at her. Fuck. He saw her, he saw right through her. And if he saw her, then what would Marc think of her? What would he see if he were to crack open her muddled little mind and peer in? He would hate her. And oh god, Steven-

Her throat bobbed with a silenced sob, her chin wobbling pitifully.

“And as for him- This is a man who literally does not know his own name.” Harrow continued his onslaught, making Marc clear his throat uncomfortably at the fact his biggest wound was bared open for the taking, the scar that wouldn’t close having salt poured into the crevice. “He has a marriage certificate under the name Marc Spector-”

“LIAR!” Khonshu’s agitated attempt at regaining composure was thwarted by the glisten in Marc’s lost, cocoa eyes that seemed to do nothing but watch as his chest was pried open.

“Employment records under the name Steven Grant,”

“Stop,” This time it was Marc speaking for himself. His voice hoarse from Khonshu’s yelling, yet it was more of a wounded yelp, a plea for mercy from the man who knew everything about him, knew all of his darkest corners, and threw it out in the open for them all to see.

“I have seen him speak to himself-”

“Shut up,” Marc yawped, an animal in a cage yowling for release.

Dove felt the anger begin to rev under her skin once more. Marc had been immovable since the moment she knew him, the moment she saw him in her bedroom stiff as a rock as she’d hugged him. Had rarely shown anything but a cold indifference, if not the occasional smile. He had been the only thing keeping her sane between the entire situation, the one person she trusted to quite literally drag her back from the depths of death a thousand times over. Because, while he was a moody sod most days, it was Marc. And Marc would fight tooth and nail for her.

“I have no idea how many personalities he must possess,” She felt Marc weaken under the hold she had on his wrist, “The man is clearly insane,”

It was happening in slow motion. Just as Marc crumbled into a disheartened sigh, the frustrated tears welling in his eyes, the final chord holding together her growing temper snapped. She felt her vision blacken for a moment, as if she had taken a long blink, which she wished she had in hindsight, she’d read on the internet closing your eyes and taking a deep sigh temporarily relieves stress. Something about giving the synapses a moment to process information. But she hadn’t. And neither did she feel the imposter crawling up her spine the way she did when Seth wanted her body as his own. No this was her, this was her entirely alone.

By the time she had come to, she had taken two quick steps towards the snide man, fingers outstretched for a sharp slap across his high cheekbones when she felt five metal claws hugging her fingertips, the razor edge of each enough to take a sizeable chunk out of his face had she made contact.

But she didn’t. Because no sooner had she gotten an inch away from doing so, her hand was stopped by a cerulean ring cuffing her hand mid air, preventing her from moving in the slightest.

Osiris. His hand held the same bluish-grey energy between his two fingers as he seethed down at his younger brother’s avatar.

“We will not tolerate violence in this chamber,” He bit, forcing the girl to her knees to face him, her head hung to the floor. She felt Marc’s eyes burn the back of her skull, his legs itching to approach, to wrap her up in his embrace, if only to protect her from Osiris’ hate. She chewed her cheek in guilt, when a thought quickly struck her as she looked to her knees ashamed.

Her suit, the one Seth usually donned her in. She was in her suit. She had never summoned her suit before, had steered clear from the fact entirely actually, yet the material was stretched comfortably over her skin as it was all the other times Seth shoved her consciousness aside to make room for his own deeds.

But she had summoned it herself.

“It brings me no pleasure to tell you these are two deeply troubled individuals. Khonshu is taking advantage of him the same way he abused me, the same way he aspires to abuse this court. As Seth is preying on a chaos-filled, young woman whose only goal is nemesis. Take action before it is too late,”

Dove tuned him out, her own internal crisis weighing far heavier than the insults Harrow was hurling to her. She had brought out the Hellhound herself. Not as Seth’s puppet or as his doll for toying with but as herself. As a reflection of what she wanted to do to Harrow.

For the first time in almost a decade, her body felt like it was almost her own again.

“Let us speak to Marc Spector. He seems the more reasonable of the two,” Horus ordered, and Marc almost scoffed at them had he not been so hurt by Harrow’s words, not been so defeated by the doubtful looks the Ennead had in their once cold glares now that his illness had been revealed. “Are you unwell?”

It was direct. Inescapable. And yet he didn’t care for their judgement anymore, just the fact she seemed uncomfortable being forced to her knees so harshly, a mongrel forced to sit quietly for a bone.

“I am.” He breathed hoarsely, “I am unwell. I need help. But that doesn’t change the fact that this man is-” Marc could barely finish his sentence without trailing off in angered tears as he glowered at the floor, knowing there was very little he could say to change their minds, “Would you just let her go? Please?”

“This is a safe space for you to tell us if you feel exploited by Khonshu-”

“This is not about my feelings, I am not the one on trial here, nor is she. It is him,” Marc seethed at Hathor, Yatzil, who’s pitiful eyes bore into his skin, flaring his anger, god would he just let go of her, look how her head hung low, how her knees pressed painfully into the cold floor, how she was forced to submit, “This is about how dangerous he is if you would just listen for a second,”

“He has committed no offence,” Osiris ruled coldly, tired, as if the situation bored him completely. “This matter is concluded.”

And that was it. The bonds that held Dove into low obedience were ripped away from her, her hands finding the floor gently as she stayed there, her head dipped to glare at the stone, the anger ebbing and flowing at her hot face like the banks of the Nile.

“And brother?” Dove’s head perked the slightest amount, though it was not her, but Seth responding to his counterpart on his behalf. She looked up at the god through broken, reddened eyes, a tear glistening on her cheek that she let fall to the ground with no fight. “Cause chaos like this again and you’ll be begging for a ushabti when I’m finished with you,”

With that, the avatars were returned to their bodies with moonlight white eyes, a jolt in every one of their spines, before they began heading back to their portals with not a single word uttered between them. As if Marc and Doves lives hadn’t just been raked out for all to see, all to judge. All to sentence.

Walking past the girl still crumpled in defeat on the floor, her heart too heavy to lift herself, Harrow watched Marc’s angered eyes carefully, a final sneer on his shit-eating expression.

“I’d leash that bitch of yours before she hurts anyone else, Spector,” He murmured, loud enough for the two of them to hear, not loud enough to cause a scene.

Like a dam breaking, her shoulders sank in on themselves, Marc quickly rushing to meet her on his knee, a warm hug wrapping around her where he could, just as she expected.

“Hey come on, we need to go, princess,” Marc whispered to her, and she could do nothing but give a sad nod, avoiding his eyes at all cost.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, a sob crawling up her throat that felt even more present when she saw her clawed fingertips staring back up at her, “I’m sorry I tried, I tried to push him down, I-”

“Shhh,” Marc soothed, nosing her hairline, “It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault,” He murmured, hands going under her arms to lift her off the ground carefully. She stood, not without clutching onto him, gently of course since her suit and weapons made it difficult to not hurt him, and the entire idea that she had conjured it herself seemed tainted by the way they had looked at her. The way anyone would look at her if they knew.

“Marc,” A voice whispered, but Dove was too lost in her own self pity to take note. She felt as if she was back on that beach, her eyes lost in a canopy of blue, the wind cold on her skin. Lost in the world, yet seen, too seen, by those gods, by Harrow. Too trapped in her past, in what she’d done, knowing there was nothing stopping what Seth wanted her to do. Feeling for the first time, with the suit around her that she had summoned, she had ownership over herself, feeling as if she entirely wanted nothing to do with it.

Release me, release me from this wretched body, release me from this head, take me from this pain with a quick death.

Yet.

Keep me here, grant me control, let me greet my own demise.

An equilibrium yet to settle. A scale tipping to and fro, a puzzle with no solution. A set of coordinates with no longitude. Continuing. Unanswering. A person missing half their soul.

She, impossibly so, felt worse than she had when she woke up.

She found herself again laying back on the hotel bed, staring at the white, plaster ceiling. After Marc had spoken with Yatzil about a possible solution to finding Ammit before Harrow and his followers, the pair of them had headed back to the hotel in silence. Well, Marc had attempted to make conversation as he led her to the taxi, but it was clear from her lack of response, only broken by the occasional sniff or nod of her head, that she was in no mood to talk.

Taking a deep sigh from her place on the cot, she lifted her hand to run over her tired face when she was stopped by a crusted sap rolled up between her fingers at the touch, and she let out a clear gasp, jumping up from the sheets.

In the daze of it all, she’d forgotten she was covered in blood under her suit that she coaxed into disappearing before the taxi pulled up. Her face, hands, legs, all smeared with the sticky substance that now stained the white duvet.

“Fuck, oh fuck, for bloody fuck sake, fucking shit-” She swore violently, bunching her fingers into fists at the sight, Marc ducking into the room from the small balcony faster than she could let out another curse.

“What’s going on?” He took one look at her sad eyes, the way the redness smattered over her face, guilt flashing in her expression as he saw the mess on the sheets.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll have my guy tip the cleaners, it’s no biggie,” He brushed off, taking a step towards her, attempting to uncurl her fists manually with his much larger hands that had just as much blood on them. Though, it was mostly his from where his wounded knuckles were now weeping. “You should probably take a shower though, we’ll raise too many questions looking like this,”

She barely nodded, eyes glazing over as she understood what he was saying. Clean yourself up, you’re scaring the locals.

“They only have a bath,” She murmured quietly, avoiding his eyes, scratching at the blood that quickly dried on her arms, picking at it like the glue that stuck to your skin as a kid making crafts, coming away in thin, onion peel layers.

“I’m sorry if it’s not the nicest hotel around, but my guy did his best-” Marc snipped slightly, watching her face scrunch up in frustration.

“No, no, not that, it's lovely, I’m just-” She took a deep breath in, her lungs rattling, her throat constricting with the secret she’d never had to tell. He’d think she was ridiculous, a woman of her grown age. “I can’t take a bath,”

“Of course you can, I’ll go run it for you now,” Marc headed for the bathroom, sick of this back and forth. He just needed her clean, needed to get that shit off of her, get rid of that guilty look in her eyes, needed to fix everything-

“No, wait,” She stopped behind him as he turned the brass tap, hot water gushing into the luxurious, square bathtub that had been built into the nude marble, stacks of ‘freebies’ and candles lining the edge. This was definitely meant for a honeymooning couple wanting a sexy week away under the Cairo sun, banging in every room, not two people who were barely friends possessed by gods and racing to stop the end of human lives. “Wait, Marc,”

“What?” He barked, turning back to face her with the first annoyed glare he’d given her all day. She knew the pair of them were at the end of their tethers, and that he was trying to care for her in the way Marc always did, the kind that only half the time involved actual any affection. “Look, I know it’s full of rose petals and shit, but I’m trying, princess,-

“It’s not that it’s-”

“I know it’s shit but it’s the best we’ve got, and I know Steven would have gotten you somewhere better-”

“I’m scared of water, Marc,” He shut up at the sight of her deflated expression looking at him through embarrassment, shut up at the sight of her squirming on the spot at his irritated rant.

“Huh?” He hissed, utterly thrown off by her words, feeling as if he hadn’t heard her correctly, “You’re fine with water, you’ve showered at Steven’s before. Is it me? I can go if you want privacy-”

“No, Marc just stop, please,” She mewled, turning her head to her hands ashamed, picking at the skin that had come loose, no matter if it pained her so. “It’s not you, I- I can’t be underwater, like under under water, not like showering when it’s only there for a second, it’s more drowning than anything, so baths are just a no go,”

But she sounded far away. Because the realisation for Marc had set in, the understanding of being scared to be held down, to feel the water rising up your legs, past your knees, up into your lungs. And then he was back in that cave again, he was feeling the water trickle in, he was screaming for RoRo to talk to him, to take his hand, he was hearing his brother’s little body splashing, hearing the water crowd his throat, drown out his cries for help. He was climbing out of that wretched cave soaked and running back home to tell his parents what had happened.

Taking a laboured breath to remind himself he was in the bathroom, with her picking at her nails, the tap running being the only sound between them for a moment. Sighing heavily, he fought the tears that burned behind his nose, forcing them to be swallowed down in the interest of helping her.

“What if I stayed?” He asked, her head shooting up to look at him in shock, mortified he was being so brazen. Rolling his eyes at her naïveté, he continued, “I’ll turn around and just sit on the toilet seat, but I’ll stay. Make sure nothing bad happens,”

She went quiet for a moment. She needed to get clean, get this forsaken muck off her, it was driving her insane. The smell of it alone, fermenting under the hot sun, was turning her stomach, not including the fact she felt rotten every time she thought about where it came from. Those bodies, that boy.

She nodded, the hot water steaming up the window by the time she’d decided.

“Okay, yeah. I suppose that would be okay,” She murmured to herself, fidgeting nervously. “You’ll just sit right there?”

He nodded gently, his hands coming to pull her fingers from mauling themselves, “Absolutely. Right there.”

“And you won’t look?” She asked shyly, eyes batting up at him through tired lids, to which he smiled slightly.

“Not a peak, now come on, bath’s almost full,” He ducked out of the bathroom to allow her to get undressed, not missing the way her fingers seemed to cling to his hand for as long as possible before he left. “Call me when I can come in,”

“Okay,” She replied through the thickness of the door. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her clothes into a neat pile under the sink, despite the fact they were wrecked with the same red gunk she was going to have to scrub off her skin. Switching the taps off gently with two squeaky turns, she held onto the bath edge with a deathly tight grip. It was only a foot of water, and Marc was right there. He wasn’t here anymore. Bath’s had once been her favourite part of the day. She loved a bath, had never felt so relaxed. She wanted to scream at the way her chest locked up as she stood in the water.

It was piping hot, scalding her skin, and maybe it was the punishment she deserved for all the blood she’d shed. Maybe it was the toll she had to pay to get clean.

Sinking to her bottom, she couldn’t help but clench onto the side of the bath for support, eyes locked on the way the water swayed towards her. It was just a bath, she’d had one millions of times before him, he wasn’t here to-

“You can come in,” She called, conscious of the way her back was to the door, swishing some of the french lavender bubble bath in to make the water milky, obscuring any sight of her body he would have caught a glimpse of.

Not that he would try. Marc was much too respectful for that.

He came in wordlessly, shutting the door behind him to keep the warm air in the bathroom. Plonking himself down on the toilet seat, he saw her hair spill over the lip of the tub edge in his peripheral vision, but little more.

For a moment they were both silent, uneasy at the new atmosphere created. The humid air was thick in their throats, the excuse they gave themselves as to why they weren’t talking. Marc inhaled the sweet vanilla and floral notes of the bubble bath, cursing himself when his mind ventured as to that being what she would smell like all evening.

“I’m sorry the room is so…” Marc trailed off. What was he to say, so clearly meant for two people on a nonestop fuck-a-thon? Aside from the fact the minifridge was stacked with whipped cream and chocolate spread, not for breakfast he’d had to explain to her, the bedside table full of condoms, the bathtub filled with rose petals, it was very obvious they stuck out like two sore thumbs with their rare and short affections in a place like this.

“What? Straight out a porno?” She quipped, earning a short laugh from him, symphonying the splash that came as she began scrubbing at her arms finally.

“A high end porno atleast,” He corrected, the tension in his shoulders loosening when he heard her giggle.

“Right,” She drawled, leaning over to grab the chamomile scented soap, “No one’s getting stuck bent over a tumble drier any time soon in a place like this,”

Maybe it was the fact she couldn’t see him, or it was the least shitty thing that had happened all day, but Marc couldn’t help the way a laugh, a real, chest tightening laugh, spilled out his throat. It was completely out of character for his glacial demeanour, usually the best she’d get is a smirk he’d try to hide or a huff through his nose. But it was a true, amused laugh. She smiled, despite the water coming away pink in her fingers as she scrubbed.

A brief moment passed over them where the only sound came from her hand dipping in and out of the water. This wasn’t so bad, she supposed, if she ignored the way her stomach rolled with bile every time she felt herself slipping further into the water. The milky pool itself wasn’t what scared her, it was the waiting to be pushed under, held under despite her clawing and scratching at his arm. It was his way of keeping her in check, reminding her even in the bathroom she was not permitted to privacy, to her own thoughts. She still felt his hand weaving its way into her hair, shoving her down until the water rushed up her nose, the gasp she’d let out choking on the exotic scented liquid. It was all just another one of his little games, and when she’d resurface, spluttering and clamouring out of the tub, he’d simply laugh and tell her to stop locking the door.

She hated the smell of that soap anyway. Too rich, too perfumed, too fake.

“I used to bath my brothers when I was younger,” She said after a while. She didn’t know why, or what had made her think about it, or why Marc needed to know, but she said it anyway.

“Yeah?” He replied, sounding distant as he picked at the blood under his own fingernails. “How many?”

“Four, all younger,” He blew air out of his cheeks solemnly, “We didn’t have much money, it was just my dad and he could never keep a job to save his life. I tried getting a job but turns out minimum wage for thirteen year olds is pennies,”

Marc stayed quiet, chewing at his lip. He had yet to ever hear her talk about brothers, or parents, or anything other than Steven and how much she wished he was here. That and of course why James Bond is a chauvinist, though he knew the first one was much dearer to her.

“Sounds rough,” He bit out, feeling the need to remind her he was still listening. He saw her shrug from behind the curtain of hair that fell behind her, obscuring his view.

“We got by. I was hungry some nights, but we were happy. They were happy. That’s all I cared about,” Marc felt a guilt gnawing at him. Sure, after RoRo passed his mother became a beast that had yet to release him from her claws, but they had never worried about money. Their house was easily three stories high, he had a meal three times a day, Elias always took him out to buy a new toy when Wendy had been particularly cruel. Birthdays, Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, he always had whatever he wanted. Anything, except his mother’s love, but that couldn’t be bought, could never be earned back for what he’d done.

He felt disgusted with himself for being so self piteous about his childhood when Dove had barely afforded to eat at risk of her siblings going hungry.

“I used to get Matty in there first, he was the oldest. Only a couple years between us but he loved when I would give him his toys the others weren’t allowed to play with. We used to have to share everything, clothes, toys, school books, so having his own boat in the tub made him feel special.” A smile, achy but good, passed over her face, a warmth blossoming in her chest at the thought of the life she hadn’t had in so long. “He knew he had to be quick because there was only one tub of water to last all five of us, so we used to play ten rounds of I-spy and then he’d have to get out. Eventually he’d pick the most difficult thing to spy so I’d never guess and he’d get to stay in longer.”

Marc stopped then, watching the back of her head with a silent stare, quickly understanding she was in her own world entirely. “Then it was Sam’s turn, he was a year younger than Matt. He hated getting shampoo in his eyes so insisted I washed his hair for him, even though he made me swear to never tell his friends because it would damage his street cred,” She chuckled to herself, sounding far away from where Marc cracked a small smile, “Kid was seven years old and thinking he was tough enough to take on the world.”

“The other two?” Marc prompted with an ache, a need to know more. More about the little Dove that tended to her hatchlings, to her nest, whose voice sang with something he had never heard from her, a sad kind of happiness he never thought possible.

“Joey was next. He’d start to complain that the bath water was getting cold by this point so I’d sneak some water in from the kettle. He was a little younger than us, I think mom and dad had thought three was it for them. But two years after Sammy, out popped Joey. Fattest baby you’ve ever seen. Refused to speak until he was three, and then suddenly he was blurting out full sentences.” She smirked, eyes glazed over as the pink swirled into the water, beginning to run out of where it dried in clumps in her hair. She would need to wash properly, she realised. Wetting a flannel, she held it behind her, careful not to get any droplets on Marc’s leg. “Marc?”

He snapped out of the reverie he felt he shared with her, his head filled with the image of four little boys, a mirror of her. Maybe their noses were a little bigger, their jaws sharper, but their hair would fall over their shoulders the same way, unless she’d trimmed it for them. He pictured her running ragged after them, reminding them to floss, to tidy their rooms, to do their homework.

“Yeah?” He asked, taking the cloth from her hand.

“Would you be able to get the…” Blood. Blood. Blood. “Stuff out my hair please? I can’t get my head under but it’ll dry soon if I don’t get it now.”

“S-sure,” He said softly, almost caught off guard that she was inviting him to get even closer to her nude form. Setting a towel on the floor, he turned the small bin over to give himself a seat as he gently ran the wet cloth over her locks. He would need to use shampoo probably, there was some on the side of the sink but he refused to push her. “What about the youngest?”

“Micheal,” She said, her voice pure with sweetness. “He was definitely a surprise. Came three months early, came out kicking and squealing like he had a vendetta against the world.” She chuckled to herself. “He was so tiny I could get away with washing him in the kitchen sink. Matty would say we could peel him and put him in a stew with the rest of the potatoes. But he was so good, he would follow me around when I got home from work, even when he turned into a teenager he would never leave for school without hugging me and making sure I had lunch. I never did, but I would lie because otherwise he would worry too much about me,”

The crimson seeped out of her hair with every brush of Marc’s hand against the locks, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up hearing her bliss. She was different like this. Yes, she was usually happy, bar the few times she had gotten teary over the blood and gore, but speaking about her brothers made her glow with something new. A bliss he hadn’t seen in her yet. One he wished he could cling onto with everything he had, keep her wrapped in like a bubble of her happiest memories.

“By the time I got in the bath it was cold, like fully cold. And the water was dirty, I tell you three boys and a baby get into so much mess than I’d give them credit for,” She continued, her eyes fluttering closed at the way he gently stroked her head, stopping every once in a while to re dampen the flannel in the water. There was no way he could see anything since the soap had made it so cloudy, but she didn’t think she could find herself to fully care with how loose her body felt, floating under the heat. She found herself trusting him enough to lean back into his hold, relax under his touch instead of flinch. Because it was just Marc. And Marc would never do that.

She tipped her head back to give him an easier access to her scalp, sighing when his fingers seemed to pick at a clump, removing it manually when it wouldn’t release with the cloth alone. Her stomach flipped as to a guess as to what it could have been.

Flesh? Brain matter? You tore those men to pieces like the savage you are, it’s no wonder Osiris said the people were scared of you, you’re beastly, disgusting loathsome creature who deserves every bit of pain Seth gives you-

“Four brothers and a father? You and your mother must have been ripping your hair out in testosterone,” He said, gently smoothing the tangles out of her tresses, continuing to wipe at the tangles until the water ran clear.

“Just me. Mom ditched when Mikey was born,” She said calmly, though she felt his hands stutter as she did. “It’s fine. She believed that giving her son’s biblical names meant god couldn’t see her drug benders. I think she forgot her kids could though,”

Marc hesitated. Words, some that he couldn’t fathom putting together, caught in his throat. He hated the pity people would give him whenever he were to divulge his own secrets he kept hidden in the dark rooms of his mind even Steven had no access to.

“Please say anything except I’m sorry, otherwise I may have to give you a big wet slap across the mouth,” She quipped, relieved when she heard a small snigger, finally. She’d hate to lose that calm, carefree version of Marc she’d had this evening. Hate to scare him off like the spooked rabbit he was, send him racing down into his dark burrow again. “But yeah, it was grisly being the only girl until Billie was born,”

“Billie as in another brother?” Marc asked with a confused frown.

“Billie as in my niece,” She replied, making a gentle start to clean the gummy resin off her face, “She was named after Billy Joel when Matty lasted all of one week being sixteen and got a girl pregnant. Girl bailed on the kid as soon as she was born, Matty felt like he could do a better job of it than our dad could, and Billie was family. Although she somehow got it in her head that she was only allowed to listen to Billy Joel since that’s where her name came from,” She snickered, remembering the countless mornings she chased the naked toddler as she screamed ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’.

“How old is she?” Marc asked, the water running mostly clean now, yet his gentle pawing at her hair had yet to stop, more for his own state of mind now than her own. She was so soft, soft everywhere. Even the way she sighed into his touch, the few times his fingertip had met her neck, met the top of her spine. Soft, warm; inviting, addicting. Clean, good, pure, god she was heaven on earth. Fixed, he could fix it, fix her hurts.

“She’s…” Dove quickly counted in her head, coming up with a thick throat when she figured the answer. “Nine. She’ll be nine now,”

Nine. She’d missed so much of her little life, she’d barely been at school when she’d left home. Missed her losing her first teeth, missed her learning to ride a bike, missed moving to bigger school.

She’s better off without me. Dove chided sourly, though tears built in her eyes.

“You see her much?” He prompted, letting the short bout of silence settle over them as she rinsed her face carefully.

“No, I uh-” She cleared her throat, her head tilting down to play with her fingers, picking with her thumb nail under the rest, “My brother’s don’t speak to me anymore,”

Marc froze. This, unlike the other time he’d been ready to apologise, felt like dangerous territory. While her mother walking out had felt like passing news to her, this felt like a rope unwinding thread by thread, getting ready to snap in his face at any point.

“Oh,” He eventually came up with, stuck between wanting to ask more and wanting to keep his distance. A tug of war between himself and wondering what she wanted him to do. What Steven would do. “How come?”

“Just you know, life got in the way. We all said some things, did some things,” She sniffed, her eyes closing as she skirted around the truth, “Truthfully I don’t deserve their forgiveness even if they did want to talk,”

“Come on now,” Marc reasoned, his eyes filling with a softness only she saw, his fingertips caressing her scalp with a gentleness he didn’t know his battered hands could muster. “I’m sure that’s not true,”

“It is,” She cut him off definitively, “I think, sometimes, maybe I was just born wrong. Like I just came out the womb rotten. Like I deserve the way the gods looked at me today, like I’m every bit as revolting as Harrow says I am,”

“Hey,” Her head flicked over her shoulder at the anger in his tone. She hadn’t meant to spill, hadn’t meant to overflow her brain like that, have the words jump right out her throat. Maybe she was too relaxed here. She expected judgement, or disgust, or pity. But no, Marc just looked pissed. “That is not true, do you hear me? Everything he said about you is wrong,”

“But if he’s wrong, then why does all this happen to me? Why does it happen if I don’t deserve the badness?” She asked him quietly, because Marc knew all the answers. Marc knew everything, always knew what to say even if he didn’t realise it.

He took in her damp, clean face that stared up at him in naive grace. Her eyes gazed right up at him into his soul, seeing past every defence he had tried to throw up against her, everything unintimate between them gone as she soaked away the blood.

“Sometimes these things just happen to people. Sometimes there is no deserve,” Marc said after a moment to chew on his words. His hands cupped her face gently, her eyebrows furrowing as his thumb wiped the wetness from her cheek that rolled down in a couple glistening bubbles. “You are amazing, do you hear?”

She was silent.

Marc, in what was possibly the most tender thing he’d done since he’d first met Layla, slowly leaned forward, his lips coming to rest on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed, a held breath exhaling on his clavicle, cold unlike the warmth of her cheeks.

He drew back, the scent of french lavender and vanilla invading his lips, tasting sweet on his tongue.

And yet the pit of guilt only sank in Dove’s heart at the gesture. The pit that devoured her every second of every day. She didn’t deserve his kindness, his sweet words or his saccharine kisses. Marc would hate her if he found out what she was, who she was. If he knew the reason she left home, left her brothers.

If he knew she was a murderer.

MCU

@blackcat420---69

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[ayabeanworks]

Title: Through my eyes

Synopsis: Shoko's initial thoughts on you and how you've survived so long in the Jujutsu world with death flags.

Character: Ieiri Shoko x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Fluff, slight angst & bittersweet. Continuation/part 2 of Reach for your Hand, but from Shoko's viewpoint.

Ieiri Shoko was sure you weren't going to make it out alive from the Jujutsu world. You didn't know how to properly use Jujutsu, didn't have a cursed technique, and didn't even know martial arts, at the very least.

Things weren't looking so good for you.

Yet, you were somehow able to survive even the hardest of missions, albeit with injuries, but you were alive nonetheless.

Was a God presiding over you? Shoko was sure you weren't going to last long.

She didn't want to think about her colleagues and friends dying as it may jinx them, but she had to admit, you had a death flag presiding over you at all times.

Initially, Shoko kept her distance, but eventually realised someone like you was similar to a kind of light within the Jujutsu world, which was full of only dark and scary things.

You reminded her of spring, when the flowers blossomed.

And truthfully, that terrified her.

There have been many hopeful Jujutsu sorcerers who were more talented than you, stronger than you, and held dreams and aspirations sky high for the world of Jujutsu and eradication of curses. They all died a most painful death.

But for you? You who smiled so sweetly, reacted so entertainingly, and laughed so happily - Shoko didn't want the world of Jujutsu to taint you so much so it takes away what made you, you.

Because you would only be a shell of yourself, wearing the skin of [name].

And that's not what she wanted. For the first time, her nonchalant front had cracks, and it was all related to you.

As a RCT user and healer for sorcerers, Shoko had seen many people injured, helpless, amputated, dead, you name it.

But what she hadn't seen before was someone with closed off channels of cursed energy like yours. It was interesting to see, but the reasoning behind it was something she didn't know, so it was a good learning experience.

However, the more she learned about it, the more she wondered if it was a good thing in the context of the Jujutsu world.

Right now, they were making sure you could use at least something out of whatever cursed energy you were able to muster out, but was it actually doing something? It wouldn't even be able to last you much against curses you'd have to fight.

Though you had Geto as your teacher when it came to martial arts, that alone was not going to help if you couldn't exorcise them, so you were always put onto missions with others to 'assist'.

It was an issue, until it was not.

But like the death flag presiding over you had its own intentions, it would laugh at you and make an issue for you to detangle.

It was the first time she'd seen someone nearly die from their own cursed energy. If anything, she was glad it was Geto who had you on the same mission as him, 'assisting' as per usual, as he was someone who was incredibly reliable when it came to matters involving you.

In reality, you being on that mission was really just an order from the elders in a last ditch effort to 'awaken' you through their own sick agenda while playing with lives.

The amount of profanities she could hear in her head from Gojo was too much, but not unwarranted.

She wanted to do the same, but compared to a sorcerer who could destroy everything, what she could do was miniscule.

That was when Shoko realised she couldn't do anything for you except heal, and you were essentially on your own when it came to the Jujutsu world and navigating through the horrors and depths of it, save for some instances with Geto & Gojo by your side.

"I'm glad you're alive." No truer words had been spoken from her lips, and she sincerely meant every single word of it, down to her very core.

She didn't want you to cry. She didn't want you to be sad, nor did she want to let you go.

She didn't want the spring to become winter, and the flowers to wilt so there was nothing left but to wait for another season to bloom. There was always a chance things wouldn't bloom anymore, and she didn't want to risk those chances.

So she changed her ways to reflect that change of thinking - and that included fussing over you like an elder sister or partner. It was protective - overprotective even - but she couldn't help herself, after seeing what had happened to you.

She colluded with the boys to make it happen, since they were also worried sick about you. Your ongoing feud with the elders, your health and most of all, you. You were one of their top priorities since you hadn't been in the world of Jujutsu for long, but the minute you stepped foot into it, the world was ready to fuck you over.

And they didn't like that.

As a Jujutsu sorcerer, Shoko didn't know whether you'd come back alive each and every time you went on a mission, especially if it was an order from the elders who assigned missions to you. They would sometimes get you on a hard mission on purpose to test out your newfound cursed technique, or to test your 'survival abilities' as Gojo put it bitterly.

All she could do was wait for news of you coming back safely, and that was enough to make her worry.

So every time she took a photo, she'd add it to her album of you, making sure she had memories of you before the elders killed you for their own entertainment and gain.

Should that happen, she'd be devastated, and she wouldn't have anything to remember you by if she didnt take enough photos of you during that time. Of course, she took them with the others too, but in Shoko's eyes, you were someone who was present, who was there, but who could also disappear at any given moment, leaving behind nothing but a ghost of a memory.

And as she became an adult, Shoko didn't see you as often as she did when you both were teens, but she made sure to message you and go for morning coffee runs or drinks after work, doing daily checkups to make sure you were all fine and in good health and so on.

You've survived this long, let's get you stronger so you're alive longer, were her thoughts.

But she was really just relieved and happy you hadn't kicked the bucket yet, and she hoped you didn't via a curse.

Shoko hadn't had enough of your smile yet. She wanted spring to continue blooming, and wasn't ready for winter.

And because she hadn't had enough, she became greedy, and wished for more. If she liked something, she would take it, and make sure it stayed with her.

In this case, it was you.

She grabbed onto your outreached hand so firmly, you wondered if your circulation was going to get cut off by how her actions betrayed her nonchalantness. It was endearing, and you knew exactly what she wanted to convey to you.

For Shoko, once she's got you, she won't let go.

A/N: Finally part 2! If anything, I'd say Shoko's ones contain the most about the dynamics of SaShiSu x you/reader! Here's part 1 if you haven't read it already.

But if you guys want to see more of the different sides of the story with different POVs, here's Gojo's and here's Geto's!

#jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk season 2 #satoru gojo #geto suguru #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk spoilers #ieri shoko #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujutsu shoko #gojo #gojo satoru #sashisu x reader #sashisu #ieiri shoko #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles

[letsquestjess]

Books and Roses - Part 1 (Hunter x GN!Reader)

Summary: A usual day at your job in the library turns into a fateful meeting with Pabu's newest resident.

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: None.

A/N: This one absolutely ran away with me but I finally got it finished. I'm not sure when it will be posted, but I plan on doing a part 2.

-- -- -- -- --

Singing softly to yourself, you cautiously ascended the stepladder and arranged the books in your arms, sliding another into its home on the shelves and rearranging the ones that had been misplaced. Many of the mid-afternoon patrons stopped and smiled to greet you as they searched for their next read. A few lingered, chatting away about the delightful weather and asking if there had been any new arrivals they might like. 

An excited hum of conversation echoed from the far bench as a group of schoolchildren eagerly discussed their work. Their whispered chatter grew into a rumble of voices clamouring to be heard until the head librarian hushed them with stern warnings about the library’s rules. Some of them stifled their snickers, but the others extended their apologies and promised to be quiet. 

Months ago, you had suggested allocating specific hours after school for those studying for exams and projects so that they could exchange ideas and work together without worrying about the noise, but your boss dismissed the idea with an irritated scoff. “Libraries are houses of silence and order,” he had asserted. “They will learn that or find some place else to study.” No matter how hard you tried to make your case afterwards, he remained unmoved and bluntly told you to not bring the subject up again. 

With your arms empty, you climbed down the ladders and scooped another set of returns from the tray. You flicked through them as the doors squeaked open, and you spared a brief glimpse at the man stepping in. He adjusted his crimson bandana, tucking the stray midnight strands from in front of his face, and scoured the library. Like a whirlwind, a blonde girl from the group of school students flew to him and clung to his waist. He chuckled and ruffled her short hair. 

They whispered in muffled voices before she pointed in your direction and walked towards you. As they got closer, you realised he was one of the clones who had recently settled on the island with his siblings. You had noticed them a few times in town, but you never managed to summon enough courage to appease your curiosity by speaking to them. 

“Anything you need help with?” you asked, welcoming them with a smile. 

“Omega is looking for some books on Pabu folklore,” the man replied. “We were wondering if you could tell us where they are.” 

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll show you.” With a wave of your hand, you invited them to join you as you walked to the back of the building, through the wedges of sunlight gleaming in from the gardens outside and past the wall of bulletins advertising local businesses and upcoming events. “Folklore is my speciality,” you told them, “so if you’re looking for anything specific, I can point you in the right direction.” 

“Oh, stuff with sea monsters,” Omega said. “And magical birds.” 

You meandered the aisles dedicated to the island’s myths and paused at a sapphire-bound volume, its cover adorned with bronze foil ripples and faded, swirling clouds. “This one contains a collection of stories about the water and air elementals. You know the pillars out by the docks?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It is believed that a sea king built his palace on the top of them. It stretched all the way out to ocean, almost touching the horizon, but it was destroyed by a giant bird after he nearly shot it down.” 

The girl listened captivated, and you retrieved more books. All the while, her guardian followed, his smile pushing at the crinkles by his eyes as you shared your stories and piled up the reading material.  

Once she had as many as she could carry, you led them back to the desk. “I’ll add a couple of extra weeks onto them so you can enjoy them without having to rush.” 

“That’s kind of you,” the man said. 

“No problem, um…” You racked your brain trying to remember if he had introduced himself, but he quickly spared you from your dilemma. 

“Hunter.”

He extended his hand to you and you shook it, introducing yourself. “You moved here recently with your family, right? How are you finding it?” 

“It’s… different.” 

“A good different, I hope.” Scanning the last book into the system, you typed in the extra data and handed it to Omega. “You’ll have to let me know what you think once you’ve finished them.” 

“I will,” she promised. “Thank you for helping me.” 

With a friendly wave, she hurried to the door with her brother trailing behind her, urging her to slow and taking on the burden of some of the books she was carrying. 

* * *

Your day began as usual. You arrived, stored your belongings in the staff room locker and got to work organising the extensive stack of returns and finding spots for the new arrivals. A few sparked your interest, and you decided to take a look at them during your lunch break. 

Not long after the afternoon regulars, the local students shuffled in and settled at the far desks. Glum faces stared at notepads and flipped through their assignments. Another librarian offered her assistance, and the confused expressions gradually turned into ones of understanding. 

The bell on the countertop chimed. “Omega,” you said to the girl patiently waiting for your attention. “How can I help you?” 

“I finished the books,” she declared, hoisting the hefty pile and setting them onto the desk with a muted thud. 

“I see someone is an avid reader,” you said, surprised. “You’ve only had them a week.”

“They’re really interesting. Especially the one with the wizard and glass dragon.” 

“Ah, if it’s magic you like there is a brilliant story about a woman who harnessed the power of an ancient cave to bring back the sun after it disappeared.” 

“What happened?” she asked. 

The weight of the returned texts in your arms brought back a flood of memories as you began to recount the wondrous legends you had absorbed as a child. Tales of sparkling, celestial-born creatures, and renowned figures who formed the island. Magic spilled from your words and Omega clung to them, occasionally helping you by handing you books to place on the topmost shelves while you balanced on the stepladders. Before long, you had checked in and replaced all the returns and you were nowhere near done with your stories. 

As the door hinges let out a protesting groan, Hunter strolled in and spotted you both talking, Omega perched on the reception desk sipping on a fruit juice carton and you with a steaming cup of caf in your hands. 

“Hunter,” she called, waving him over. “There’s a cave close by that has magic in it. Can we check it out?” 

“I suppose, if it’s safe to get there,” Hunter replied, glancing at you questioningly. 

“It’s not that far along the coast and it’s perfectly safe,” you assured him. “It gets fairly cool in there in the warmer months, so people stick close to it when they go to the beach.”

Hunter noticed a fresh selection of tales by Omega, almost as tall as the last lot. “You’ve made quite the impression,” he said to you as his sister hopped down from the countertop and bundled the volumes into her backpack.

“Any chance I get to talk about the folklore of this place, I’ll take it,” you chuckled.

“Perhaps you might tell me about them sometime.”

Heat crept into your cheeks at the sincerity in his tone and you stared at the warm tendrils escaping your mug. “Well, you know where to find me.”

His gaze lingered on yours before he shifted to Omega. “Come on, little adventurer,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

* * *

You exhaled a breath of relief as you sank into the plush cushion of the desk chair, feeling the pressure of another overburdened morning lift off your aching feet. The past few weeks had been a monotonous slog of reorganising, double-checking and triple-checking systems until you could recite the lists in your sleep. But now it was completed. Catalogued. Authorised. Done. 

Hunter’s regular visits had made the workload a little more bearable. He had taken to showing up earlier to catch you on your break, asking about the myths and legends of Pabu before conversation and curiosity prompted him to ask you about yourself. During the hours you’d spent either cooped up in a private corner of the library or basking in the sun on the bench outside, he’d told you about his own past and his brothers. 

As the weeks proceeded and your meetings became a daily occurrence, you felt the stirrings of admiration. You noticed how the faded detail on his facial tattoo crinkled when he smiled, the faint highlights in his hair that drank the sunlight and deepened the midnight shades, the rhythmic tap of his fingers when he got lost in contemplation. And the way that his eyes brushed across your face when he thought you weren’t looking. You’d caught his reflection many times in the window, captivated like a stargazer enthralled by the night sky in the seconds before he regained his composure. 

But you silenced the hopeful whispers of your heart. He’s probably grateful for the non-judgmental attention you give him, you thought to yourself, struggling to ignore the pondering in your mind that asked if he shared your feelings. 

“Working hard as always,” a low, jovial voice said, tenderly pulling you from your daydreams.

You swivelled in the chair and pushed yourself up, checking the chronometer on the computer screen. “I didn’t realise it was that time. Did you want to sit outside today?”

“Sure. But before we do.” 

He slowly withdrew his hands from behind his back and a fresh floral perfume drifted from the basket of lilac and gold roses he placed on the counter. “For you,” he clarified at the puzzled lift of your eyebrows. “I saw these, and they reminded me of the story you told me about the purple sea and the warriors who turned the droplets into petals at sunrise, and I thought that maybe you’d… Sorry, I’m rambling. Maker, it’s usually Tech doing that.” He attempted to stifle his anxiety with a cough, but it only intensified his trembling, his mind racing, and his fingers running through his hair as he desperately sought to find the right words to say. 

“Thank you, Hunter,” you breathed, trying not to let your smile betray how endearing you found him when he was flustered. “I wasn’t expecting… you didn’t have to…” You paused and collected your thoughts. “They’re perfect.”

At a nearby table, Omega shifted her gaze away from her homework book, carefully watching your exchange before quickly looking back down when her brother caught her. 

“There’s a really nice cafe near the beach,” you said, running the pad of your thumb over a satiny petal. “They make their own pastries every morning and the caf is delicious. I’m planning on heading there for breakfast tomorrow before going for a walk along the coastline. You’re more than welcome to join me.” 

Hunter’s hand glided across the desk and grazed over yours on the side of the flower basket. His fingertips fluttering against your skin, he waited for you to pull away, to flinch or recoil, but you didn’t, and his adoring gaze met yours. “I would love to.” 

“Shall I meet you here in the morning and we can walk down together?” you asked, heart pounding and a tiny flame of hope burning inside you. 

With the slightest shuffle and the sweetest smile, he nodded. “It’s a date.”

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@skellymom

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #sw tbb fanfiction #sw tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanficiton #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x you #tbb hunter x you

[quillofspirit]

POTC characters if they had horses

This is now officially a series! Though the next installment is not yet scheduled, inspiration will most likely strike one night, like lightning to a lone tree. Unfortunately, some pictures are not the specific horse, though they do all resemble the idea behind the choice.

Do excuse the various lengths, I had more ideas for some than others. And my skills at moodboards, I am but a youngling in the skill.

I would love to hear your thoughts or questions! either about this or other characters, and other fandoms 😊

Elizabeth Swann

A chocolate Hackney stallion, mostly sweet though also the type to feign coming when called before running away. It was an active young thing that was a gift initially meant for Governor Swann. Elizabeth fell in love with the horse when it almost got away from its holder, at first presentation. Her father was nervous about her having such an energetic animal be responsible for his daughter’s safety, though he quickly realised the love was reciprocated. Its character only part of the reason why she loved that horse, most of it being the freedom it offered. The first time she let it go at a full gallop is the moment she fell in love with the speed, and the muscles beneath her, tensing and relaxing with each stride. She would rarely confess to loving that horse more every time it resisted orders, snorting and pawing in disagreement when they tried to control it by the reigns. She named it Neptune, though she often referred to him as her First Mate.

Governor Swann

A dark bay Hackney gelding, a sweet sweet thing. The type to nudge you for affection, and have enough confidence in its rider to make them a better rider. The Hackney was, and still is, a sought-after breed, known for its trot, as well as its docile and friendly composure. Although the Governor is a skilled rider, having been instructed in all matters of high English society, he still preferred the convenience of a carriage, than riding on a horse. Over time, he found himself growing to love going on rides with Ambassador, but even more when he accompanied Elizabeth on rides. (Though he only ever went in full gallop to hear her laugh from happiness).

Will Turner

A molly mule, though very pretty, he called Hellebore. Named in honour of Rosie, Will initially got the mule with a forge he bought when Elizabeth and him could settle. The last owner left it with the deed, saying he “didn’t know the last time he’d find the thing useful.” Hellebore however, was quick to warm to Will’s soft voice and gentle pats. Mules are known to be smart, social and affectionate. They also tend to be very protective, so the fool who tried to steal from Will’s workshop got a big surprise when Hellebore bit him and trapped him in a corner. The commotion and braying got Will’s attention quickly, and when he arrived, he found the robber trembling in fear. After that, Hellebore became a loyal companion, often nudging Will for more affection, regardless of his half-hearted attempts to push it away while he worked.

Jack Sparrow

A dark bay Spanish Mustang mare. It was left behind by a Spanish general, and Jack stumbled upon it when hiding running from the law. He didn’t know how to approach such a creature, but he found he didn’t have to. It followed him around, until he relented and took care of it. The next night, it came to his rescue when a man Jack owed money to cornered him in an alley. It came charging at the man, snorting and pawing at the ground. When the man attempted to side step, it gave out a big neigh before pushing the man aside. Jack had no other choice than to be grateful, and he named it Maelstrom for it temper. Spanish Mustang are known for their intelligence, their curiosity and their sense of self-preservation. Skills that are most useful when in proximity to Jack Sparrow.

Hector Barbossa

A black Irish Draught mare, intimidating but loyal to a fault. will kick at anyone that tries to steal from the many bags it often holds can often be find stealing apples. Generally easy-going, they need a firm hand to push them to use their athletic abilities, but they are known to be surprisingly agile. Barbossa named her Themis, after the Greek goddess of Justice and Wisdom.

Joshamee Gibbs

A New Forest mare, named Scallywag. It is intelligent, good-natured and sure-footed, and it stumbled upon a drunk Gibbs one night. It jumped over Gibbs, and the first thing he saw upon waking up was the very close, soft nose of a pony sniffing him. He startled, and the pony snorted in his face. At first, Gibbs tried to shoo it away, but the horse was persistent, pushing its fuzzy nose into his hair, and he would have found the gesture endearing, if it did not grab his hat and run away with it. He looked for the horse for a few days, before he found it, moving its head all around and slapping the hat on nearby bushes. In the end, he did find it endearing.

James Norrington

A stunning silver Turkoman stallion. As a military man, James needs to trust his horse. Turkoman horses, now mostly extinct, are renowned for their stable feet, robust body and stamina. They are intelligent, and often form a very strong bond with their owners. James Norrington would be the kind of man to want a reliable horse, willing to wait months for one to be imported. The first few months together, James had to calm it a few times, before it knew it could trust. More often than not, talking to it and pressing a firm hand to its neck sufficed to calm the horse. Now, he's the type of horse to finish a race alone, and win. It has proven itself time and time again, often the calmest amongst the cavalry. He took a few weeks before deciding on a name, finally settling for Aquila.

Cutler Beckett

A white Thoroughbred stallion, it looks bigger than it really is, though with Beckett's stature it's no wonder. Generally, thoroughbreds are known to be strong and have good stamina, but tend to have nervous and stubborn spirits. Riding a thoroughbred requires a firm but knowledgeable hand, and is often the measure of a excellent rider. Lord Beckett called it Triumphant Venture.

BONUS

Davy Jones

If he had another creature at his command, but horse-inspired, it would be a kelpie. HOWEVER! I do think it would have a few lights in its mane, like an anglerfish. It would look like tiny fireflies stuck in seaweed, and might just be enough to attract curious sailors. The kelpie would generally consume all souls, but would bring some back to Davy Jones. I didn't do a moodboard for this one because it gave me nightmares!

These are my dividers, please do not use them.

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #James Norrington #Elizabeth Swann #Will Turner #Jack Sparrow #governor swann #cutler beckett #barbossa #hector barbossa #joshamee gibbs #gibbs #davy jones

[storysprite]

Resplendor of the Gods - Gloria Matri. Gloria Filio. In Saecula Saeculorum.

About Resplendor:

(Part 1 of 3)

The anniversary of Raiden Makoto's death was for Ei the most painful time of any year. A reminder of when, as far as Ei is concerned, Inazuma lost its true light. Of which, in her mind, she is only a shadow.

It did not help matters that her son was also first awakened on the anniversary of this tragic day, which to Ei was a foreboding sign.

For this reason, she had at first not released to the public the divine name of her firstborn. As though to shelter it and therefore her son from the fate of the world.

It was not until she realised that on the worst of days, and through any pain her son felt, that Ei's smile was able to restore life and light to his countenance. That to her son, she was not merely a shadow. But the very light of his life.

As such, on one particular anniversary of Makoto's death and the celebration of the boy's life, the Narukami chose to reveal to her son a divine secret.

"Resplendor?" asked the young lad, sitting at the table of Tenshukaku's secluded garden which overlooked the whole of Inazuma City.

"That is correct," said Ei setting down a plate of homemade Tamago Kake Gohan. She smiled seeing that her son no longer recoiled at the sight of her cooking. A sure sign of improvement ever since taking lessons from her familiar Yae Miko.

"You mean light?" asked the boy chomping down his rice, just before correcting himself with a 'sorry' for talking with his mouthful.

Ei reached across the table and gave him a gentle pat on the head in acknowledgement of his ever-growing sense of etiquette.

Then she answered him: "Resplendor is more than light. That's just how most in the mortal world see it before they get to understand what it is. If ever."

The boy finished his third bite and then asked, "So what is it then?"

"Resplendor is the Poetry of Life made manifest," answered Ei.

"The Poetry of Life?"

"The Poetry of Life is the enchantment born of what the world is and how we experience it. A power at the very cusp of reality that rests in between life and lore. Dreaming and waking. Truth and tale," said Ei. "It lives in the love of two infatuated young people who can't help but see the other as perfect. And the love between those who've been together for years, who see each other's flaws as part of the tapestry of their life together and delight in the beauty of a bigger picture.

"It lives in the toy that to others is just one among many. But to a child, it's an irreplaceable gift given by their parent. The Poetry of Life lives in the legends people cling to that are more important than the events they recount. You experience it all the time without realising it.

“Resplendor is the power of Gods to experience this sublime poetry as a real world in and of itself. To see and experience parts of reality in a way mortals can't. But also to bring parts of that bountiful realm into the world to beautify reality and bring about new works on the tapestry of fate. That's why stories of the Gods and their powers sound so mystical. The stories themselves are a part of that Resplendor. And the divine light mortals often see is the most accessible form it can visually take."

(Part 2 of 3)

In awe of his mother's sayings, perhaps captured by the Resplendor of the moment the boy had long forgotten his meal and sat spoon in hand lingering on her every word.

"Woah," he finally managed to say. Ei smiled. Had this been any other child she would have imagined that her words had gone over their head.

But her son was a bright boy who had more 'whys' on his lips than the number of Sakura petals in all of Inazuma. And each answer he got would normally be followed by a question more complex or insightful than the ones before.

"Can every God use Resplendor?" he asked.

"In other words, is this something you can use now. But I'm going to tell you to wait till you're older. But you're going to try anyway and then hurt yourself and I'm going to have to ground you over and over because getting hurt the first time won't be enough to stop you trying again?" asked Ei.

The boy held a serious face for a few seconds. But the mask quickly slipped as he left out a sly smirk.

"Using Resplendor can occur naturally. But most of the time deliberate use takes years of practice," said Ei.

"Do you use it a lot?" asked the boy.

"I use it more now since you've been born. But in the past, that was my Raiden Makoto's area of focus. And we still see it today reflected in the beauty of this land, its people and culture," said Ei. "But using Resplendor saps from the same kind of divine life that Gods pour into the more commonly known manifestations of power. Particularly the kind you see in battle. As a seasoned warrior who has spent much of her life in defence of Inazuma against outside threats, my divine power has turned more towards manifesting this kind of force in the real world than going into and drawing from the realm of Resplendor."

The boy looked confused. "But there are plenty of warrior Gods who have stories filled with Resplendor or mystical powers. You as well," said the boy.

"Yes but these types of Gods tend to have less of them than other Gods," answered his mother. "And their Resplendor tends to manifest in the heat of battle. Which has its unique flavour of glory. But it's the kind that if you indulge in too much without the right heart, will lead to that deity having a Resplendor that tends more towards pure terror than awe. Darkness rather than light.

The dark and tainted glory of monsters, malovent spirits and beasts of the deep. Which is why Gods who don't focus on battle, tend to have a Resplendor that are more... uplifting."

"Like Uncle Venti or Aunt Nahida," said the boy.

"Exactly," answered his mother. "But for Venti often that's just him being jolly after a few drinks, rather than Resplendor. Although... it may be a unique sort of his own making."

(Part 3 of 3)

The two shared a laugh in the garden, warmed by the rising sun which heralded the dawn of day as bright as their smiles.

But soon after, the brightness on Ei's face dimmed down to a more sombre tone.

"So later on..." she started. "When we get our royal portrait done, you'll be able to use it in the future to recapture the Resplendor of our time spent on this day. A lovely Memento should the time come when I'm no longer around."

"Erosion..." said the boy with a heavy heart. He lifted his head towards the sky and narrowed his eyes with disgust at the island floating far above them.

"Yes," said Ei. "It seems that Erosion is a dark Resplendor cast upon the world by The One Who Came."

"Can't you cast it off with your Resplendor?" her son asked, desperate for any sign of hope on her face.

"Perhaps... If I cut myself off as much as I can from the throne of the heavens, forsook the mortal realm entirely and secluded myself for ages to come in deep meditation then there is a chance that this might be achieved," said Ei. "But the chances are slim and should they be altered of this because I made a mistake by not being detached enough, Inazumans are the ones who will face a most terrible curse just like... No.

“My heart is too close to the world for me to achieve it. Were I still grieving Makoto perhaps I'd find the strength to do so. But... Now... I have you."

The boy did not look comforted by these words.

"So it's my fault that you can't get stronger?" he whimpered.

"Fault?" said Ei. Immediately she rushed to his side and took him into her embrace.

"You are no fault," she said. "I have willingly poured into you the best of my Resplendors. That you may grow and nurture it and one day be free from the power of the One Who Came. That is my desire. For you to be happy and free. And to my surprise, I discovered that by giving myself up for you in this way, I have poured a Resplendor that transcends the laws of this world and planted within you the seeds of your redemption. And perhaps of Inazuma and all of Teyvat as well. You are no fault, my dear boy. If anything, you are my strength. And perhaps one day you will find others in like spirit as yourself."

"Don't worry Mother," said the boy, taking his turn to pat her on the head for once. "I'll help save you and all of Teyvat. Then we can be together forever."

Ei smiled at her dear and precious son. "Of that," she said. "I have no doubt.”

#genshin fanart #genshin impact #inazuma #raiden ei #raiden shogun #electro archon #raiden makoto #raiden shogun and scaramouche #scaramouche #wanderer