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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—JOUSKA | THREE

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Something and nothing at all changed. Wednesday is all too aware of the distance and the horrifying realization that if she wants to be closer, than she'll have to make the first move. Cue compulsively replaying a hypothetical conversation.

Warnings: Angst. Distracted!Wednesday. Wednesday generally being Bad At Feelings™️. Enid's wise words. Thing—the opportunist. Xavier absent but still not safe from Wednesday's roasts. Blood.

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Note: This was intense to write, but it'll only get more intense! Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated 🥺

Part Two

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Jouska: Noun. A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Something and nothing at all has changed since that night.

"Hi, Wednesday."

Wednesday's eyes catch yours as she watches you flanked by two gorgon girls. You've got a white stick of a lollipop hanging in your mouth at the side, the grape confection already finished, but you don't like littering (unlike some of these other heathens at the academy).

Wednesday doesn't say anything back, but she does slow her walking down subtly, her brows relaxes and expression neutral as she looks at you. A nod of acknowledgment is all that is needed to satisfy you as you smile at her before looking away.

It's been like that since that night—the same acknowledgment, and it's all Wednesday can think about.

They've bonded, haven't they? Enid certainly said so. And if that was the case, why were you the same distance away?

Wednesday can only think back to that night.

"Black wings are the mark of a night faerie."

Wednesday doesn't rush her response. This was one of those moments, the one Enid was constantly telling her to be delicate about.

The right words—Wednesday needed the right words.

It reminded her of when she first encountered the photo of herself from Rowan, and how she, too, thought she was destined for (bad) calamity.

"Sometimes the dark doesn't cause calamity but rather is what no one expects at all," Wednesday looks at you, her eyes focused. "The solution."

But even as you give Wednesday a soft smile, she can see something dim behind your eyes, and the taste of utter defeat burns Wednesday's throat, knowing it wasn't the exact right words.

So, Wednesday was at a standstill.

And she was also far from finding a nickname for you that she'd allow everyone to call you. The only bright side was everyone else was somehow doing worse than her with their suggestions despite her not having offered anything at all.

There was a distance, Wednesday realizes. One that you seemed content to let be.

Wednesday feels jolted by the realization that she's been fairly spoiled and blessed in her life (even if she didn't feel it at the moment). It had always been Wednesday who chose to keep her distance from those around her. She had her own interests and had been content to put them above everyone else.

But ever since coming to Nevermore, her little ragtag of misfits—especially Enid—had intrusively barged into her personal space. Wednesday only had to take a small step forward, and everyone else had closed the distance.

Everyone except you.

Wednesday Addams would never deny the fact that she wasn't free from things like desire. She desired many things: rain, mysteries, victory, the fear of others, and whatever things could be described as morbid.

She told her mother that she would never be like her—never fall in love, be a housewife, or have a family. And she had meant it at that moment (although she was very sure she'll never be a housewife).

And really, it's not like Wednesday loves you or anything. But Wednesday has once felt enough to kiss a boy (who turned out to be a serial killer), and when she thinks of Enid, Eugene, and Xavier, she does feel like she has a strange little group to call a family of her own. She begrudgingly accepts Bianca to something like a distant, irritating cousin.

You piqued her curiosity very early on with your unintrusive smiles and waves. Now, you had an enigmatic background and a perhaps sense of self-preservation to remain distant. But it was too late.

Wednesday desires mystery, and she desires you.

They're not mutually exclusive.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Blood drips down from Wednesday's cheek. She touches her finger to the cut and looks at it curiously.

"You're distracted, Addams."

Wednesday looks back to Bianca, who somehow manages to look both smug and concerned. While being beaten by Bianca again still leaves the feeling of self-pity, her rage is directed at herself.

"And yet, you barely managed to defeat me," Wednesday drawls.

"Well, pull your head out of the dark, gray clouds and focus so I can put you in your place again without your excuses," Bianca shoots back without hesitation.

Wednesday starts to move into position when the coach halts it and tells her to go to the infirmary to take care of her cut. Clenching her jaw, Wednesday puts her equipment away and leaves the room.

The cut stings, and Wednesday knows it was her own fault that Bianca cut her too deep. She was distracted. She has been lately ever since her realization that if she wanted to close the distance, she would have to be the one to intrude in your space.

The problem was that Wednesday only knew how to intrude into someone's space when she was suspicious they were a serial killer—accusing and without permission.

And thus, Wednesday has been afflicted with hypothetical conversations her brain refused to stop producing. It was costing her sleep, and now the victories that should belong to her.

"Wednesday!"

Turning around, Wednesday sees Enid skipping her way down toward her. The blonde frowns when she glances at Wednesday's cheek and pulls out a white handkerchief. It’s the only colorless fabric she owns. "Fencing?"

Wednesday nods, accepting the cloth as she dabs it against her face, wiping at her jaw where it dripped.

"Lose?" Enid winces in pain.

A dark look crosses Wednesday's face, and Enid quickly changes the subject.

"Are you excited for parents' weekend?" Enid asks. "I'm surprised Principal Weems has made it so early in the year. I hear she's making changes so parents visit once at the beginning of the year and once at the end of the year."

"If by excited you mean begrudgingly accepted it, yes," Wednesday monotones.

"But it'll be interesting to see who the fairy godmother's parents will be, right?" Enid rocks on her toes in anticipation. "I heard her dad is, like, a high lord or something."

The comment does spark interest in Wednesday. She is curious about the two people who had loved you so much that they took you out of isolation and parted ways with you in this safe haven.

Assuming that they could visit you, anyway.

"That's also a witless sobriquet," Wednesday comments absentmindedly.

Enid only huffs.

"Enid," Wednesday calls evenly.

"Hm?"

"How—why—" Wednesday takes a deep breath as her eyes close for a moment. When she opens them, she finds Enid staring at her curiously with an amused smile. Wednesday knows it was because she’s never this inarticulate, but Enid is gracious enough to not say anything about it and waits patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

As patiently as she can, it seems.

"Not to rush you, but you should probably hurry on and say whatever it is you want to say so you can get on to the infirmary. The cut is starting to soak through my handkerchief," Enid gently pushes.

Wednesday grinds her teeth for a second before sighing through her nose lightly.

"How did you decide on how you wanted to be closer to me?" Wednesday asks, leaving as much emotion out of her tone as possible but cringing at her sentence. "Especially since it was obvious I wanted to keep my distance."

Enid's lip twitches, and Wednesday already regrets asking, but before she can turn around and leave, Enid answers. "Well, in your case, I think it was easier for me to tell you didn't really want to be alone, so I didn't ask."

Wednesday makes a vague face of disgust while Enid continues on.

"But in your case," Enid stresses, smirking at Wednesday's unblinking face. "I think you should ask to do something together to be closer."

Wednesday's eyes flicker as she processes Enid's words. The memory of Tyler's efforts to take her to the catacomb, how he set up lights, and a movie pops into her mind.

"Like a date," Wednesday says slowly, and horrification begins to set in.

"Er, I think that's a little too advanced for you," Enid cuts in quickly. "Maybe just try to find a way to spend more time together casually but consistently."

Enid looks at her watch. "Oh, I gotta go. Yoko and I need to start planning for the boat race this year." With that, Enid happily skips down the hallway. She turns around once and yells, "Oh, don't forget to wash the blood out of my handkerchief. I trust you'll know how to do that!"

Wednesday nods before she continues on her way to the infirmary. When she enters, she sees Weems talking to someone sitting on a cot behind the curtains.

"I'm happy you've found a friend to help you, but I'm concerned—" Weems stops as soon as she sees Wednesday, frowning as she sees the cut and then sighs, "Coach Vlad had told me you and Bianca frequently spared without your helmets. I had hoped he was joking."

The curtains suddenly opened, and Wednesday wasn’t surprised. She could tell it was you by your silhouette.

Immediately the hypothetical conversations she's been creating pops into her mind again.

"Hi, Wednesday," you smile with a short wave before you eye her cut. "Hope the other person looks worse off."

Weems clicks her tongue in disapproval, but Wednesday's lip twitches upward slightly.

The principal is about to say something else when a small, lanky boy walks in. He clutches his wrist, but Wednesday can’t make out his feature with his overgrown fringe covering his eyes. He seems to see just fine, though, as his posture stiffens at the sight of you.

"O-Oh, F-Fae," he starts to say but then stutters. "No, sorry, I-I mean—"

"It's fine," you wave away his attempt at saying your name. "Did you hurt yourself in psychitect?"

He nods.

"I suppose I should go find the nurse. She went down to the cafeteria for a quick snack," Weems says before she looks at you. "We'll finish our conversation later."

"It's fine," you wave it off. "I can help Wednesday. We’ll be gone before you’re back."

Weems purses her lips in disapproval, but you just give her a look back. Sighing, Weems nods before she turns to walk out. "Glad to see you fitting in more this year, Wednesday. It's pleasant to see you in my office less."

"It's too early in the year still," Wednesday haughtily replies, eyes trailing Weems as she leaves the room.

"Come along, Henry."

Once alone, Wednesday's eyes trail to you.

"Well, take a seat," you stand up and gesture to the cot near her as you rummage through the cabinets.

"I can do it myself."

"I'm sure you can," you absently say as you move bottles back and forth in search of something. When you find it, you turn around with a lopsided smile. "But I assure you I can do it better."

Wednesday only raises her eyes challengingly but sits down as you sit on the stool and roll over to her. She sits primly with her back straight as a rod when you come closer and closer. To allow your proximity, Wednesday has to open her legs for you to come between, being the one wearing pants.

"Pretty nasty cut," you mumble, and Wednesday can smell grape lollipops.

"I've had worse."

"Bragging, I see," you smirk as you put on gloves and use tweezers to soak a gauze pad in saline solution. "Xavier did tell me you took an arrow for him once."

"Xavier has an abnormally large mouth," Wednesday speaks tersely with a furrow of her brows. When you gently dab the soaked gauze pad on her cheek, it doesn’t sting, but Wednesday clenches her fists closed with your face so close.

"I think he was bragging," you continue to dab. "Enid and Eugene have similar anecdotes. Thing, as well."

Wednesday huffs while you merely grin lightly.

Enid's words and Wednesday's haunted hypotheticals were plaguing her again.

"What were you and Weems talking about?" Wednesday asks to redirect the conversation. She had been curious since she walked in, as it seemed like a rather serious conversation.

The thoughts aren’t going away.

"She was checking in after I told the nurse I had a friend to help me apply the medicine, and I'd only come in to do monthly examinations or if something serious happened."

Sometimes Wednesday isn’t used to people answering her questions so quickly and without pretense. She’s used to them being defensive.

'Thing shouldn't be applying your medicine.' Wednesday clenches her jaw, refusing to let the thought slip out of her mouth. With you in sight, her mind refuses to stop the compulsive hypothetical conversations.

"I see," Wednesday says slowly. "And why is Weems so particularly concerned?"

"She's my legal guardian," you answer straightforwardly, inspecting Wednesday's wound as the bleeding slows.

The sudden new information makes Wednesday blink.

'If you use your brain and think about it, Thing is a disembodied hand with stitches all over. Do you think that's sanitary? Forget the fact that Thing is vain and does well in washing his hand and moisturizes.'

You put down the tweezers and take off the gloves. Lifting your fingertips, you hover them over the cut. Wednesday watches as you concentrate before warmth and tiny little firefly-like lights seeps onto her cheek.

When it’s over, the sting of the cut is gone. Wednesday lifts her hand to touch her cheek and feels a thin bump of her skin scarred over.

'I understand your need for secrecy. I've been told I lack regard for others’ safety but I have no intentions of being the reason for your untimely death.'

You turn to grab a tub of cream and unscrew the lid. "It's not exactly perfect, but better than the usual way," you say as if apologizing. "I'll get better at it as my wings heal."

"Your powers are linked to your wings?"

'And of course, I understand you don't prefer the nurse's care. Her touch is indelicate and I imagine your wings are sensitive.'

You hum and say quietly, "A lot of it, yes. Our wings are embedded into our backs and take root inside our bodies. It's why we usually die without our wings."

"And Weems is your guardian?"

You nod. "Yes. As you know faeries stay in isolation, and faeries with my wings are...outcasts," you smirk. "My parents can't look after me like regular parents do because the more in contact with me they are, the more it exposes my location."

It makes sense. Whoever had done such abominable things to your wings should stay far, far away—lest they want Wednesday to find a way to paralyze them without taking their wings.

Still.

Wednesday studies your face as you apply the scarring cream. Your parents must've been heartbroken and scared witless to take you out of isolation and have Weems take over guardianship.

'As such, I must take responsibility for Thing and offer to take his place in applying your medication. This is an acceptable trade, is it not?'

"Your parents must've adored you so," Wednesday comments. She can certainly relate to that as she internally rolls her eyes at the thought of her own parents.

You finish applying the cream, and Wednesday has had enough of the repetitive one-sided conversation in her head. It was going to drive her crazy—and not the respectable kind.

But just as Wednesday opens her mouth to get it over with, her words die on her tongue when you look at her.

It was the same smile as that night, the one that made Wednesday's throat burn with utter defeat.

You must miss them.

"Yes, I suppose they did."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, and the incessant noise of Enid's snoring is somehow amplifying her thoughts.

This. Is. Inconceivable.

The thing with Wednesday is that she had an obsessive personality. That's why solving mysteries is such a good pastime for her.

The only problem is when the mystery hasn't been solved, and she is left alone with the agonizing cliffhanger.

What if the words hadn't died on her tongue?

What if she had said them anyway, despite your smile that seemed to make Wednesday miserable.

But the truth of the matter is that she didn't, and now, she is stuck in bed coming up with new hypothetical conversations that revolve around one matter.

'Thing is indisposed.'

'I'm offering my company and assistance. Thing may stay as an additional conversationalist.'

'Surely, you must have more to say to me daily than greeting me.'

'Thing has questionable scalpel skills; therefore, I believe he's been applying your medication inaccurately. I can't have your wings—your life source—healing poorly on my hands.'

This is all Enid's fault, Wednesday determines. She turns her head to watch her peacefully, blissfully ignorant sleeping roommate.

Maybe she should come through with the threat of smothering Enid with a pillow. But in the end, Wednesday turns her head back to the ceiling.

It’s then that Thing opens the door and scuttles across the room in haste. She sits up as he climbs up onto her bed and pulls at her blanket.

"What is it, Thing?" Wednesday frowns.

Thing begins signing and tapping.

"Speak clearly, Thing. You're skipping words."

Thing taps frustratedly but slows down.

"Someone…slapped…back today?" Wednesday raises her brow but then frowns deeper. "It opened a wound up...and you can't fix it yourself? Need help...now?"

Thing taps multiple times to signify that is correct. Immediately, Wednesday gets out of bed and grabs her sweater.

"Where is she? Her room or her studio?" Wednesday asks as she shoves on her shoes, and Thing climbs onto her shoulder.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When Wednesday arrives at your studio, following the same sequence she did weeks ago, she finds you fallen on the ground, your wings just barely over your shoulder as you hold yourself up by your elbows.

Blood drips down and soaks your feathers, somehow making obsidian look even darker.

Wednesday walks up quickly and crouches beside you, and you barely notice her until she speaks. "Who did this to you? I want their name." She seethes.

"It was...an accident," you raggedly breathe. "She didn't know. Meant to be a friendly goodnight clap on the back."

But that doesn’t soothe Wednesday at all. Not when the back of your dress shirt is dredged in so much blood that there isn’t even a spot of white left, and your right wing twitching in obvious pain.

"What can I do?" Wednesday demands, but there was a softness to it that is almost desperation.

You swallow. "I—I need you to move my wing over my shoulder more—until I can reach the cut to seal it." You screw your eyea shut. "I can't move it on my own."

Wednesday nods. She carefully reaches out to touch your wing.

It is velvety.

Wednesday imagines it would've been more magnificent to the touch had your feathers not been weighed down and saturated by blood.

As Wednesday begins to spread your wing up and over, your breath hitches sharply.

Wednesday stops.

"Don't stop," you grit your teeth, taking in ragged breaths. "It hurts the longer you drag it out. Just—be gentle."

Gentle is not often used to describe Wednesday. She’s sharp and jagged, like broken glass. That's probably why she still plans to discover who did this to you and slowly butcher them—accident or not—as she carefully keeps moving your wing.

When it’s finally close enough for you to reach, Wednesday watches you use healing magic for the second time that day. You slump onto the grass, exhausted.

Thing grabs Wednesday's attention to the pile of towels neatly folded in a tree's hollow trunk. She finds a set of spare clothing and grabs those along with the towels.

"Is the pond water sterile?"

You nod with your eyes shut.

Wednesday places the shirt next to you and then turns to the pond, and sticks her hand in to find it was lukewarm before she soaks one of the towels.

“Change into this clean shirt for now,” Wednesday orders you but her tone lacks the usual bite. She wrings the towel and passes it to Thing. “Help her wipe the blood on her back. Turn around as she changes,” Wednesday warns Thing.

Wednesday turns away and keeps her focus on the pond, soaking the next towel. Thing taps her leg when they’re done. You look extra tired from having to change shirts but it was better than letting your bloody shirt make you sticky and then crust over before you could shower. You seem to realize it yourself as you make an effort to keep your dirty wings from soaking your shirt again.

When she returns to you, Wednesday cleans the blood out of your feathers gently but thoroughly. When she uses her fingers to brush aside some of the feathers, your wings trill.

"Tickles," you mumble.

Wednesday doesn’t comment as she continues until the blood is washed out and properly dried. Thing hands her the ointment you use and begins to apply the salve with precision.

It’s quiet.

Peaceful.

Wednesday feels the tension in her shoulders leave now that you are fine and she is here.

All those hypothetical thoughts and conversations flew right out of her head.

"I will apply this for you from now on."

You open one eye to peek at Wednesday, and she stares back at you as if to challenge her. You close your eye again and nod.

"Thanks for your services, Thing," you mumble tiredly. "Your severance package will be a bottle of dew drops."

PART FOUR

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesdayedit #wednesday addams x you #mm: my fics

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george-weasleys-girl · 7 months

Note

Hey! Could I ask for Georgie x Hufflepuff!reader. Reader likes to read, is calm and does well at school but also fun and their friends are like amazed with how well they complement each other?

Did I base this in myself? Of course. Thanks lovely 🤍 Feel free to ignore as always!

Thank you for such a lovely request 💗

The Odd Couple

George Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: a couple of curse words

~•~

"Ready, my love?" George offered his hand.

Y/N smiled and took it. "With you, always."

People had long since given up wondering what the rebellious Gryffindor prankster and the sweet, soft-spoken Hufflepuff scholar could possibly see in each other, and just started admitting they were one of the school's most adorable couples.

~•~

"I love Hogsmede in the spring," Y/N commented as they strolled through the tiny village. "Everything's just so vibrant and lively."

"I was thinking," George said. "How do you feel about grabbing lunch to go from The Three Broomsticks and having a little picnic? Enjoy the warm spring day."

"Ooh, yeah!" A bright smile spread across his girlfriend's face, and she took a few little bouncy steps.

George's heart warmed at her enthusiasm. "A picnic it is then."

Y/N wasn't the first girl he'd dated. However, she was the first one who understood or even cared that he was his own person, with his own talents and hopes and needs.

"You're so much more than just Fred's twin," she'd said to him in Herbology after he'd grumbled under his breath about being seen as "Second Fred."

At the time, he and Y/N weren't even friends yet. Only project partners, paired together by Professor Sprout. So, he certainly hadn't intended for her to hear him. But Y/N did, and her response changed everything. George froze at her words, barely aware that the plant he was holding had slipped from his grasp until the pot hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces. No one, not even his family, had ever said anything like that to him. And from that point on, he made it his mission in life to learn everything about this girl.

Now, here they were, eight months later, madly in love. And if anyone had a problem with it, they could fuck right off.

~•~

"Seriously? You're dating George Weasley? But why?" Y/N's roommate, Amy, had asked her when she announced that she and George were dating.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Well, he's George Weasley, and you're, you know, you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N crossed her arms.

"I don't mean anything bad by it," her roommate said quickly. "It's just that you're so smart and sweet. And George is a Weasley twin. You know how he and Fred are."

"I know," Y/N defended. "That George is not Fred. They're twins, Amy, not carbon copies of each other."

And with that, Y/N threw the door open and headed off to meet up with her new boyfriend.

That would be the first of her many dates with George, which ultimately led to her being invited by his mum to spend summer break at the Burrow.

"I was wrong about you and George," her roommate had admitted much later. "You guys are perfect for each other. I don't know how or why, but you are."

"Of course we are," Y/N smiled proudly.

Her roomie wasn't the only one to achieve that epiphany. Once, where there'd been odd looks and whispers behind their back, there were now heart eyes as people fell in love with her and George being in love.

~•~

"What did I do to make you fall in love with me?" George asked.

The question came completely out of the blue, and Y/N rolled onto her side to face him. "A million things really," she said. "You're sweet and thoughtful. You make me laugh. Alot. And I feel stronger with you, more confident, more daring."

George smiled and pushed a stray hair from her face. "When we first started dating, Fred refused to take our relationship seriously. He just couldn't understand why we were together. With you being you and me being me and all that ridiculousness."

Y/N gave a small laugh and nodded. She'd also dealt with her fair-share of such nonsense. "And now?"

"I still don't think he understands. But he's glad that I've found someone that makes me happy," George said. "And you do, you know. Make me happy. You see me. You love me for me. And I just wanted to know what I did to make you fall in love with me so I can make sure I keep doing it."

"Just keep being yourself, Georgie. That's all you'll ever need to do."

"Oh good!" he wiped his brow in mock relief. "Glad it's something easy!"

"Perfect! Love it! That's peak George Weasley right there," Y/N laughed and pulled him in for a kiss.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #hp fandom #hp universe #george weasley fluff

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coraniaid · 3 months

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One of the things I like best about the second half of Season 7 -- one of the few things I like about it at all, if I'm being honest -- is the fact it lets Buffy accept that she's still growing up and figuring out who she is as a person. "I'm not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I'm gonna turn out to be", as she tells Angel in Chosen. She doesn't have to have all the answers, she doesn't have to be defined by the choices and mistakes she made when she was a miserable and lonely teenage girl, she doesn't have to have found a perfect relationship or future life partner before her twenty-third birthday.

The show ends with Dawn asking Buffy what they're going to do now that she isn't the singular Chosen One, and she doesn't offer an answer because she doesn't know yet! "That's kind of the point," as she also told Angel earlier.

I think that's a really good and emotionally satisfying place to end the series on -- with Buffy finally free of the destiny that she's been forced into ever since we met her, not because she's been forced to stop being a Slayer or because she’s sacrificed herself to save the world, but because she's no longer The Slayer but merely one of many. The story of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is over, but the story of Buffy Summers has just begun. Who knows what will happen next?

It's why I've never been at all tempted to read the post-Season 7 comics, because there's no way that they -- or anyone -- can better that ending. By definition, a future of infinite possibilities is better than any concrete suggestion. (Also, yes, lots of the specific details I've heard about the comics make them sound pretty bad anyway, that's also a factor.)

It's also why I think it's kind of pointless to spend time arguing that Buffy definitely would or wouldn't end up in a relationship of some particular type, with somebody she knew before she was old enough to graduate college. Maybe she does get back together with Angel or Riley or Spike. Maybe she finally realizes she's attracted to Faith, or to Willow, or somebody else she met before the show ended. (Maybe Owen Thurman is still alive.) Maybe she meets somebody new. Maybe they get married, maybe they don't. Maybe they have kids, or adopt, and maybe they don't. Maybe Buffy decides she's happier single. Maybe she doesn't get to have the sort of romantic relationship she'd want at all; maybe other things get in the way.

Some of those possible futures sound like happier endings to me than others, and some seem more in keeping with the direction I'd like to imagine the story going if the show had continued. But anyone who tries to argue that they know which of those things would or wouldn't happen because they know what the sixteen or nineteen, or twenty-one year old Buffy would have wanted is, I think, not being serious. The show itself explicitly rejects this idea. Even though her mother's death has forced her to take on more adult responsibilities, Buffy herself is still growing up. We don't know what will happen to her a year, or five years, or ten years after Chosen. We don't know what she'll want, we don't know who she'll be. Buffy herself doesn't know that, so how could we possibly know?

As Buffy said, that's kind of the point!

#btvs #buffy definitely doesn't grow up to be a cop in any possible reality though let's be very clear about that

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destinysbounty · 1 year

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I was gonna put this headcanon in a fic but i probably will never write it so instead im gonna share with all of you. Do with this idea as you wish

The fact that Pixal just up and built herself a new body in season 7 suggests she could have done it at any time, but chose not to. And i refuse to believe Zane and Borg didnt at least offer to give her a body - Zane admitted he preferred having her physical, im sure he at least suggested rebuilding her at one point. As he said in season 8, "The choice has always been yours, Pixal." Which leads me to believe she was the determining factor in her own reconstruction. She chose to stay in Zane's head, and Id like to think her reasons for doing so are similar to her reasons for hiding her identity as Samurai X: self-imposed guilt.

Let me explain.

Think of it like this. Pixal was built to assist, right? Even from the beginning of their relationship, she has been put in several positions of saving, protecting, and looking after Zane. Their first bonding moments involved her repairing him and later rescuing him from a junkyard metal shredder. Just as Zane has an integral need to protect built into the core of his existence, so too does Pixal have an integral need to assist.

When Zane gave her half his heart, he seriously disadvantaged himself in combat. Not only that, but it was his heart being unable to withstand the Golden Power that killed him in the end. Im sure there was at least some small part of Pixal that blamed herself for this. Not just because she might see this as a failure to uphold her reason for existence (helping people) - but also bc maybe if he'd had his whole heart during that fight, maybe if she'd just given it back to him, he might have had a fighting chance. It would have only marginally improved his chances of survival, but that small .003% probability increase is enough to make her blame herself. A probability that small is statistically irrelevant, but she cant help using it as an excuse to blame herself - or perhaps, to give her a rationalization for her survivor's guilt. Because the heart inside her, powering her, is the same heart Zane could have used to defend himself against the Golden Power, and the feeling of it inside her is unbearable.

Then Zane comes back, and she gets scrapped. And Zane forgets everything, and his mind is in shambles, and she has to help him piece himself back together again.

She blames herself for this, blames herself for his death and for the scrambled state of his memories that came as a consequence. So she figures, she caused this, so its her responsibility to help him fix his broken mind. Its her responsibility to assist.

So she stays in his head, where she can hold his memories together and keep his mind from falling apart. She insists she prefers it this way, likes being close to him, but deep down she longs for her physical freedom and hates herself for wanting more than she deserves.

Then Borg is kidnapped. And Zane is nonresponsive. And she has a choice. So she chooses to rebuild herself and leave Zane behind.

And...she feels good. Free. She's...happy about it.

But shes also deeply ashamed. Thinks she doesnt deserve to enjoy the experience of leaving Zane's head. He needs her, she's less useful to him outside his headset...and yet here she is, being Samurai X, having the absolute time of her life. She loves it, and she hates herself for loving it so much.

So out of shame, she tells no one. Shes worried theyll be just as disappointed in her as she is in herself.

And Zane...well, maybe theres a reason the Ninjigma didnt become a problem until after Pixal left his headset. Maybe she was the only thing holding him together, and the moment she left, all his memories started spiraling out of control. Maybe the events of Decoded turned out to be for the best, and allowed Zane to sort through and finish repairing his memories on his own, without relying on Pixal for help.

When Pixal reunites with Zane, shes worried he'll be upset. "Was i more...useful...inside the computer?" But to her surprise and delight, he prefers her in whatever form makes her happiest, not whatever form makes her most useful.

And Pixal, backed by the support of Zane and their friends, flourishes in her new role as Samurai X - not just in an assistive capacity, but exploring and embracing her interests in engineering and tinkering. Things are good, for a while.

But then Zane ends up in the Never Realm. And he comes home, and she learns what happened. She hears what Vex did, how she sabotaged his memories and twisted his own sense of self against him.

Once more, she blames herself. Begins to believe that maybe if she had still been in his headset, she could have prevented all that suffering.

Anyway, Pixal with survivors guilt and a raging hero complex my BELOVED

#a lot of fics place the blame on zane for never bothering to build her a body #but! let! pixal! have! agency! over! her! own! existence!#i think pixal deserves some agency over her life. as a treat #ninjago #pixal borg #pixal ninjago #pixane #ninjago decoded #ns3 #ns8 #ns11 #destiny post

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ozlices · 4 months

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my mom has repeatedly dismissed the idea that she has favorites between us, and yet earlier this year she literally admitted to my face that she's prioritized my abuser over me bc she's 'going through worse stuff'.

and constantly. fucking CONSTANTLY i have to hear abt my abuser, how much she's 'changed' and 'loves me' and 'wants a relationship with me' etc etc etc

and the most draining part of all of this is that i busted my ass for multiple fucking years to finally break the shackles off and get the fuck out of here, only for a selfish, heartless, absolutely piece of utter and complete shit to damn me back here.

and now, im stuck in this cycle again. where spending EIGHT HOURS on the phone trying to get my phone shit settled, and being at my absolute fucking limit bc on top of dealing w that crap, i had to listen to my abuser and her kids screaming at the top of their goddamn lungs for the past two days, and snapping to shut the fuck up,, gets me dealing w my mother holding a grudge w me.

bc 'oh let me have kids and then maybe ill understand' IT'S LIKE THIS EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME SHE'S OVER HERE. AND SHE WAS LIKE THIS BEFORE SHE FUCKING HAD KIDS. THE BRUNT OF MY ABUSER WAS LITERALLY BEING SCREAMED AT AND BERATED BY HER OVER STUPID SHIT.

/IM/ THE ASSHOLE FOR BEING INSISTENT THAT SHE HASNT CHANGED ?!?!? WHEN SHE LITERALLY HASNT FUCKING CHANGED!!!?!?!?!? SHE'S /WORSE/ NOW /BECAUSE/ SHE STILL HAD KIDS ANYWAY WHEN LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN HER LIFE WARNED HER NOT TO BC WE ALL KNEW SHE'D BE A SHITTY PARENT. AND WOW, HUGE SHOCKER, SHE IS!!!

i made the decision when i was VERY young, but also old enough to realize just how deep rooted my trauma runs & how much it affects my responses to stress & other shit, to not have human children bc i fucking KNEW. no matter how much i try to be a nice person, no matter how good my intentions try to be, i can be very nasty. i can be harsh. i can be snappy. i can be violent. i can be completely apathetic to how my actions affect other people when i'm angry enough.

i ACKNOWLEDGE that shit. i will be the first to admit when i probably went overboard, but i am so fucking sick of being put in a position where if i dont apologize for being fucking straight up verbally, emotionally, mentally, or even physically abused, & responding to that abuse like any fucking body would, ESPECIALLY a person who has existing trauma, im an asshole.

im so. fucking sick. of being alive. this year has broken me. it really, truly fucking has. i lost EVERYTHING. i dont even have a fucking doctor. i am back in the house all my trauma happened in, damned by someone i thought was my best friend who looked me dead in my eyes a month after my daughter died in my arms & told me damning me back to the house every traumatic thing ive ever gone to 'wasnt her problem'. & having to be put right back in the cycles i brutalized myself to get out of.

and the worst fucking part is that this year has left me in such shambles from stress, i physically cannot pick myself up anymore. my alters can't pick themselves up anymore. we are all so fucking burnt out, and it is so fucking draining to lie to ourselves that hope is worth it when we had it all stripped away from us repeatedly in such brutal ways. nonstop. i swear to the moon herself, i mean it when i say not one single day this entire year has been peaceful. has been free from some degree of pain, or straight up agony.

i am tired of beating myself up for being angry. i am tired of being berated by other people for being angry. FUCK all of that shit. this year, and the shitty people who refuse to fucking offer me the same empathy they DEMAND from me, have fucking destroyed me. and i DESERVE TO BE FUCKING PISSED OVER THAT SO I FUCKING WILL BE IM FUCKING PISSED FUCK THIS YEAR FUCK MY ABUSER FUCK HER GODDAMN DEFENDERS FUCK THE BITCH WHO DAMNED ME HERE FUCK MY ENTIRE LIFE IT'S NEVERENDING BULLSHIT AND IM TIRED OF ACTING LIKE ANYTHING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME WAS OKAY OR THAT I HAVE TO BE OKAY WITH IT!! NONE OF IT WAS OKAY!! IM NOT FUCKING OKAY WITH IT!! NOBODY FUCKING WOULD BE!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#mine #vent #abuse mention//#i had to get all this out im literally so fucking pissed #i went to get food after starving all day bc my abuser was here #and my mom stood in the kitchen doorway and glared at me for almost a full minute #and when i snapped 'what' she cursed me out. bc. u know.#i fucking snapped hearing my abuser SCREAMING for two days straight.#oh but if /i/ have a meltdown where /i/ scream and throw a ~tantrum~?#then it's 'grow the fuck up. ur so immature'.#my sister is fucking 30 years old. and has NEVER fucking honed in her anger. EVER.#but IM the immature one here. not the 30 y/o with TWO CHILDREN WHO NEVER LEARNED TO CONTROL HER ANGER #im so done.#i literally bend over backwards being everyone's goddamn therapist #& then get told im a piece of shit when i too have human emotions & reactions to TRAUMA.#im done! im done. im done.#yall want a fucking apathetic snippy selfish piece of shit i always get framed as for being fucking burnt out after being brutalized #every goddamn day & losing everything in a year? fine. im done being a therapist for fucking free & suffering in silence alone #fuck this shit

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0ccuria · 2 months

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not-so-nice asks for qi'zyr'ra - break, desire, nightmare

OC Asks: not so nice edition! I'm open for more!

BREAK: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

It would take a lot to actually break her psyche. She didn't spend all those years learning and meditating to find balance within her mind and self for nothing.

She had gone through so much on Toril. Seen so many horrific things that would break anyone. Yet she had been able to steel her mind and carry forward, as she always had.

But she had also gained something that gave her a new drive in life, a purpose to keep going--the family she had created with Halsin and the orphans. She never thought she'd care for a bunch of children on some random realm, yet through Halsin, she had learned patience and the importance and joys of nurturing new life.

Qi had fallen in love with the slow pace this new life had offered. She finally found the place she belongs. If anything were to threaten or tear it down, I think she'd finally reach an actual breaking point. To lose everything she had built from the ground up in a previously cursed land with the one she harbors the most love and respect she's ever had for... it would be extremely devastating, to say the least.

There's no telling what she'd do in response, but it would not be pretty. She may just lose herself to a path of insatiable bloodlust.

DESIRE: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

For her people to knock it the fuck off. The Githyanki, Githzerai, Sha'sal Khou... all of the factions that have splintered off.

Although she had abandoned her Sha'sal Khou family, she still believes in their cause to some degree. She only wishes the leaders on top would stop trying to take control for themselves.

She wants unification of her people more than anything, and she sees hope and progress in Lae'zel--a Githyanki she had only seen as helpless before. But if she was able to swallow her pride and change her views, then maybe the Gith aren't so lost after all.

NIGHTMARE: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

It's a recent event for her, but I think abandoning the crew that took her in, when she needed freedom the most, during the Ghaik attack on Crèche K'liir would start to finally catch up to her.

So consumed by her own agenda at the time, that she didn't consider the lasting aftermath.

Images of her brothers and sisters being slaughtered and taken as illithid thralls drill their way into her sleeping mind. As she's climbing onto the fated Nautiloid, she locks eyes with her Kith'rak, frozen on the docks, staring--seething--at her amidst the chaos in such disbelief of her actions (or lack thereof) while screaming her name, staining it with "hshar'lak" and "is'tark" with such a seering poison on his tongue that she could feel the sting on her fresh cuts just long enough before he, too, is cut down.

No one had held more trust--more love--for her than he did, all to receive a knife to his back for all that he had given her.

At the time, she was willing to do anything to be free--including betrayal. But that had come to prove as such a moral failure on her character that it began to haunt her dreams.

It's difficult to process and therefore difficult to tell others up front. Although she doesn't necessarily need to, considering the tadpoles. Unfortunately, they reveal this secret to those Qi connects with. She doesn't regret leaving, for all that it's worth. She's glad that she is her own person now. But she wishes it had been under different circumstances--that it wasn't the last thing her Kith'rak witnessed before being taken.

#thank you for these!#i really liked answering them #I've got so many new ideas to conjure up for her now #🙌#Qi'zyr'ra

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ekleipsi · 9 months

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tunes were already banging and reaching the ear before club has even been so much entered. attention is turned and centered, upon companions that have been so.. insisting almost, on dragging the steed of conquest along. ‘ - did I really look that desperate that you two needed to drag me along to your date? ’ steed of famine all but nudges taller shape, fist bumps him into the side, which bigger stallion has zero reaction to. one arm kept secured, snaked around girlfriend's shoulders lazily. ‘ desperate? not at all, big guy. it's just a fun outing, relax. ’ ‘ I am relaxed, thank you. ’ both sides huff, though amusement seemed present within their proximity.

ciphor is to let go off partner's shoulders, all but pecking her very cheek, before strides already carry him along to his destination in getting them drinks. ‘ - the usual, rai? ’ inquiry passes, before cobalt orb caught gaze of fellow steed, who raises his hand in a dismissive gesture. yet the grin, tugs wide.

‘ no offense ciphor, but I really don't trust you with drinks after hearing about your recent escapades. ’‘ oh wow, I got snitched on it seems. ’

/ ( kurai&ciphor&lykos ! )

--- Kurai had not had too many interactions with Lykos; Conquest's steed was not quite so inherently tied into their...clique, given the tension between him and Oleander. Or so she'd heard. That said, Kurai had very much also heard that Lykos was rather high energy and his partners...were not. To that end, she and Ciphor both had proposed the equine come out with them on a usual outing to the club. Music was already blaring by the time they drew close, clothing choices fairly standard for the night life.

--- Tengu was in little more than dynamic, neon splattered bra and a pair of short shorts, perfect for dancing with the high top Converse upon feet. A grin paints features at the others nearly huff of a query. ' Don't listen to him. You definitely looked desperate- like you needed some excitement! To let loose! ' she beamed, one arm curled around Ciphor's waist, jerked just slightly as the taller bumped into...taller, yet. Eyes rolled with a wide grin before they entered the club, boisterous and filled with people.

--- Partner is quick to press affection to cheek until sauntering off, leaving her with the taller for a moment. ' Yeah, free of poison, hm? Don't think I don't remember the Esyn business... ' she wrinkled her nose playfully before laughing at Lykos' own response to the offer. Laughter bursts forth, before she's half doubled over and clutching at her stomach after a moment, waving the other off. ' You can't blame him! You have a petty streak, baby girl~. ' she teases the other with a hum.

--- The moment Ciphor is gone from sight though to obtain the alcohol, she spins to face first coming's steed with an eager grin. ' Well, party boy? Wanna dance while he's off flirting at the bar? ' she hummed out affectionately. Naturally flirtatious and easygoing, there was nothing but genuine friendship to be extended to the other- despite the fact that dancing close would likely look like more to the untrained, unknowing eye.

--- Pulling at darker flesh, tangled fingers, she's bringing Lykos to the dance floor and leaning close to companion. Close, but not too close. ' Get a couple drinks in you, stop being such a stiff, golden boy. Maybe Ciphor really will spit in it, just so you loosen up. You can put on the serious pants when you go back home. ' she teased, reaching up to flick him on the forehead before spinning around and leaning her shoulders against the others chest, invitingly beckoning Ciphor over as well before sipping at the drink while swaying.

#abstract tailwind | kurai | ;#equos #kurai rly out here boutta test how many nicknames she can give him #that have to do with “good boy”#or any sort of boy #since he baby pony #BAPY #DANCES WITH HIM THO #GETS SOME ALCOHOL IN HIM UNTIL THEY'RE ALL JUST #sweaty and feeling the BEAT #the moment shirts come off ciphor is like “we should go.”

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fawnedover · 1 year

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[ bree kish, demigirl, she/they. ] ✧･ﾟ is that 𝓹𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓪 ‘𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪’ 𝓪𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓸 who just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the 23 year old child of bambi & faline . i’ve also heard that they’re 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 but 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓷𝓽 and have 3 siblings. i could almost swear i heard christine by siouxsie & the banshees playing when they appeared. [ cirice, 24, est, she/her. ]

hello , everyone ! i'm cirice , and this is my newest darling , philomena . there's a bit more information about her beneath the cut here , if you'd like to give it a read ! i look forward to interacting with you all . i'm hoping to have an Actual Theme thrown up sometime tomorrow - ish , but my main concern is writing , so forgive me if things are not quite so pleasing to the eye for a period . feel free to contact me via discord or tumblr ims ! i'm always here to chat , and i'd love to plot .

𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 .

it was with the kiss of dawn that philomena entered the world , the fourth & final fawn born to the current great prince of the forest & his dearest wife . she was born with an inquisitive twinkle to her keen gaze — it was hardly a rarity to find her venturing off at a moment's notice , nor to catch her trotting after her siblings or parents as she plagued them with questions . why was the first word she spoke , and it stuck , hurled at anything or anyone in the vicinity . in her world , no leaf was left unturned , no flower unnamed , no answer allowed to be deemed unsatisfactory . with so many curiosities to sate , you would think philomena lucky to have been the youngest of the herd : without the responsibility of the crown , she was given freedoms her eldest sibling was never afforded ; so too were they often free of their mother’s watchful eye in the way the twins weren’t , given the twins’ proclivity for troublemaking . quick to learn & quicker still to change subjects in search of the next new thing with which to occupy her time , however , philomena often found herself growing bored of what was readily available . it seemed there was nothing in the sanctuary of the forest that could sate them ; or , conversely , maybe it was that they did not know how to find satisfaction — yes , there was a sense of fulfilment with every new achievement she earned , but it never felt like it was enough . the feeling never stayed — blink , and she'd miss it . gone with the wind , just another breeze passing through the foliage . though it wasn't often spoken , be it by herself or anyone else , a sense of envy had begun to settle itself in the recesses of her mind . a rotten tangle of barbed vines , lashing out in longing whenever she deemed those in her life as being better , accomplishing more . yes , there was a certain jubilance & freedom that came with being unbridled by the minutia of heirship , but philomena was growing ever anxious as she found herself lacking direction . she felt off course — and worse , she wasn't even certain of what course she was supposed to be on . her interests were vast & varied , yes , but maybe that too contributed to the problem : with so many options , nothing ever really stuck . she had a habit of taking a superficial interest in things : gorging herself on them for a week or so , only to pass onto the next thing once she'd had her fill . there was nothing she felt particularly drawn to ; no special calling . no hand of fate to guide her . she was merely there , not the heir , nor the spare . of course , her family was not void of love . her parents were kind & supportive , always checking in , but naturally , a monarchy will always be the stake between parents & their children . with their own list of responsibilities needing to be tended to , it was easy to offer philomena the space they thought she needed to find herself . what was meant to be viewed as trust within their youngest child to make good decisions , to allow her the time & room to carve out her own path , mina misconstrued as the purposeful distancing of those meant to help guide her . it only furthered the jealousy and frustration she felt . she assumed that , given her status in the line of succession , her parents must have viewed her as of so little consequence that it did not matter one way or another what they did . hurt , she turned to the court : always having been known for her wit , she was hardly estranged from the other creatures of the forest , and sought the surface-level comforts of their attention & praise . it would suffice in the moment , but once the day was over , she was only ever left that much more aware of the loneliness she felt .

𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 .

her arrival in town , and the nature of how she's arrived , have done very little to help assuage her . the change has presented more opportunities , yes , but has also provided them with more questions than they have answers . though generally well-meaning , mina has many faces , and will employ each one based on those around her . she thrives on the positive attention she can garner from others , and would gladly drown in it in the moment given the opportunity ; teasing , joking , flirting , she'll employ whatever means necessary to get the reactions she wants . however , once they find themselves home alone at night , she's much more cognizant of just how separate she feels from most . it's a bit of a handcrafted prison , really , pieced together by her own hands : she insists the distance exists , and so none of her interactions ever feel genuine , nor do her relationships . her doubt takes root , and , of course , everything she does from that point forward is something that she's convinced is disingenuous . the truth of the matter is that they have a good heart . they don't want to hurt people , but they want to feel worthwhile , and they convince themselves that the manipulation they might employ isn't really that bad , because their intentions are never really foul . they enjoy making people smile and laugh , they enjoy making people feel good ! but it is when they're alone that their pretty mask splinters . their horrendous habits of comparing themselves to others has hardly lessened here , not with so many new chances to do so . mina is particularly vicious when it comes to matters of the self ; it is possible that they could be considered as suffering from a form of imposter syndrome . boredom comes easily , still . she's retained her curiosity , and is always a willing , eager student , but she still hasn't found something that will hold her attention the way she assumes it's meant to be occupied . her sense of self is fractured . decisions don't come easily , and even if you ask her something as simple as what her favorite color is , she won't have a simple , set answer . her brain is constantly working overtime , which becomes overwhelming quickly , but she isn't keen to let on . which brings me to my next point : she lies , frequently . they're usually about inconsequential things , white lies made up to bolster herself in the public eye . she feels uninteresting as she is , so she makes up stories to entertain others , to deceive them into believing she's far more fascinating than she considers herself to be . again : these things aren't done out of a sense of cruelty , and she's aware that it's wrong to do so . but it's almost an impulse . usually , there's a bit of truth in each tale she spins , and it is , of course , those little pieces of honesty that she uses to assure herself afterwards that she didn't really do any harm , because it wasn't all a lie . mina enjoys her creature comforts greatly , and is happy to provide them for those she cares about , as well . her charity is unending , but she also has a habit of overextending herself . she has not learned yet that she cannot pour from her own cup if she leaves it empty . her hobbies include scrapbooking , crocheting , reading , going on nature walks and , strangely enough , archaeology . it is her newest vice . she's a terrible cook , aside from making soups , which she excels at greatly , but everything else ... well , she's got a nice collection of takeout menus for your perusal ! she likes to collect old quilts , pillows , & stuffed animals that are secondhand . while she's great at crocheting , her sewing leaves something to be desired — the projects she's undertaken to patch up & breathe new life into certainly take on the appearance of a child's approach , but she loves them all the same .

#intro tbt.#im gonna format my tags ...... Later #idk why my formatting in my post keeps messing up but pay it no mind lmao

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l-artemisia-del-secolo · 3 years

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Could you do a second part to Baby Bump where Yelena and her gf celebrate their baby’s first Halloween?

Hello, dear anon. Thank you for the request!

First Halloween

Everything's like in the request above. Happy family life. Next parts

Masterlist

Your last few days were full of new experiences. Before Yelena all the Halloween craze was never a part of your routine and you always tried to avoid it. Never interested in the costumes. treats or parties. But with Yelena it all flooded in your life with a new impetus. She adored the simple concept of celebrating a holiday. Didn't matter with one, but she was overwhelmed by only the possibility of creating traditions. At first for herself, then also for her girlfriend and now for her family. After everything you both lived through, she wanted your daughter to have as much happiness as it was possible to give. Both of you wanted that. And infected by Halloween mood, you were spending all of your free time at work to find a perfect costume for your little copy of Yelena. Tonight you did and even left the office before lunch to get home earlier.

Yelena had a day off and the much hated household duties were her responsibility tonight. Fanny announced your arrival, when you were just appearing in the driveway. As soon as she heard the familiar barking, she gladly stopped whatever boring thing she was doing.

"Why are you so early?" She greeted you with a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Can't I just want to spend more time with my girls?"

Yelena let you go in while grabbing bags from your hands.

"Thank you. But I'll keep this one."

You went to your daughter's room while Yelena was unpacking everything in the kitchen.

"Lena! Be so kind to come here."

Whatever it was, it wasn't your "I love my wife very much" voice. More like "Yelena Belova, what the hell is this?"

"I didn't..."

"Why exactly is our daughter dressed as an Avengers' merchandise stand?"

Yelena couldn't help but smile, when she saw your confused look as your fingers were touching the different pieces of clothing.

Your daughter tried to catch the thumb and squealed when she felt the warmth of your chest.

"I can explain."

"Mhm." You were studying that weird outfit.

T-shirt with a hawkeye symbol, plastic repulsar on the right hand and widow bites on the left, plush Thor's helmet and violet socks as a nod to Hulk.

"Every single member wanted her to be in their costume and send tiny versions of their outfits. And I just didn't know what to do."

"And the only logical choice?" You came closer to your wife.

"Was to try all of them on." Yelena almost felt being wrapped by the glowing light you were emitting after becoming a mother.

"And which one is better?"

"Frankly I have no idea. They all look..."

"Awful, don't they?" You smiled, because you noticed how she stopped herself from agreeing with you.

"I'd say weird."

You knew Yelena didn't want to say "no" to any of the heroes, especially after all the support and patience they gave both of you during the pregnancy, but this was clearly far from her understanding of a perfect first Halloween image,

"I bought her something. And if it's better than these, we choose our variant. If not, we'll just toss a coin, deal?" You offered.

Yelena opened the bag, you left on a bedside table and gasped.

"You have to be kidding me."

"Nope."

She was holding a tiny green vest with tiny pockets and a tiny stripe with black widow insignia on it.

"I'm sure, she'd like to be dressed as a greatest hero ever." You leaned in to kiss her and your daughter tried to grab the vest. "And my favourite Avenger."

"She already likes it." Yelena let out half sigh, half laugh.

"Of course. Who needs repulsors, when you can have such a vest."

Your wife quickly got rid of the pieces of different costumes and zipped the vest on your daughter.

"How do you like it?" She took the girl from your hands.

"I think it's perfect." You grinned. "Go, find yours. I want to take a picture."

"There's one thing" She suddenly stopped at the doorway. "You will tell them, that we have our own costume."

"Yelena, come on." You whined.

"It's not my fault, you found a perfect one."

#black widow 2021 #black widow fic #marvel self insert #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you

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sofreddie · 3 years

Text

Scent from Above 2

Summary: The morning after.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan!Reader

ABO BINGO: Daisies/Fresh Bread/Pine

Word Count: 1,672

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Scenting, Scent Bond, Smut (Use of condoms, Knotting), Mentions of Marking/Claiming/Mating, Fluff

A/N: Attention thirsty bitches...get your cups ready. : ) Each part of this series will feature an @spnabobingo square.

PART 1

Jensen woke with a groan and a stretch. As he moved, he felt another warm body beside him. He cracked open his eyes, seeing Y/N in his arms, neither of them having moved from the night before. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched her sleeping.

Should he wake her?

Should he try to crawl from the bed and let her sleep?

He quickly remembered that she was in heat as she shifted to her back. Her scent struck him, drawing him in once more, his nose drifting to the scent gland in her neck.

He breathed deeply of her, musing on her scent. There was something flowery, like daisies. Something warm and rich, like fresh-baked bread. He breathed deeply once more, catching the earthy undertones of pine. Each layer brought on a feeling of home and warmth and familiarity.

After a few minutes, he decided that maybe he was being a little creepy, and maybe he should try to occupy himself until she's ready to wake. So he carefully removed himself from the bed and ordered breakfast via room service, not thinking it wise for them to be apart or in public in their conditions.

Jensen took a quick shower and dressed in a t-shirt and track pants just in time for the food to arrive. As he removed the lids and the aromas filled the space, Y/N stirred awake.

"Good morning," Jensen beamed at her as she shuffled into the main seating area of the suite.

"Morning," she blushed at him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her and he silently reminded himself it was only the beginning.

"Are you hungry?" he offered, gesturing to the cart, "I didn't know what you liked, so I got a little of everything."

She smiled warmly at him, "Could I take a quick shower first?" she asked, noting he already had. He nodded and silently guided her to the bathroom, watching as the door closed behind her.

He was absolutely not going to think about her naked and wet behind that door.

As he heard the shower turn on, he realized she didn't have a change of clothes with her. He quickly dug through his suitcase, finding another simple t-shirt and pants. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door lightly, but there was no response. He took a deep breath and cracked the door open just enough to place the clothes on the counter before quickly shutting it again.

Jensen had started digging into the food by the time she came out. Her hair was down and damp, her face free of the makeup she had been wearing. His clothes draped her frame and the Alpha in him felt proudly possessive.

"Thanks for the clothes," she said as she sat on the couch with a respectable distance between them. She was nervous, not sure what to expect, and distracted herself with breakfast, "I'm in another room here," she explained, "Just a few floors down."

"What room? I'll have them send up your stuff."

"What? No," she protested, "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own things."

"It's not such a good idea to go anywhere," he began hesitantly, "And I'm not really sure I could handle it if you did," he added bashfully.

She was surprised. As she showered she thought about the events of the night before. How could she not? She was sure he would politely tell her it was a mistake, it was his rut, anything really to back out of it. But here he was, seemingly still sure.

They ate in relative silence, exchanging smiles and giggles between bites of food. They were both trying to ignore the fact that their biologies were ramping up once more, their urges becoming prevalent.

"Come here," Jensen softly spoke as he tugged at her. She went willingly, letting him guide her to straddle his lap on the couch. He buried his nose in her neck once more, humming in satisfaction as he took his fill of her. She scented him in turn, slowly allowing herself to believe it was real.

He placed a wet kiss on her neck, making her moan. He did it once more, teasing the tip of his tongue and her hips involuntarily ground down against his.

He was so very hard and so very there.

A moan slipped past his lips and Y/N shuttered. It was the most erotic sound she'd ever heard and she felt a swell of pride at being the one to bring it from him. She did it again, slowly and more purposefully this time, teasing them both.

"You want that, Omega?" he breathily asked as he ground up against her core, his hands squeezing her hips.

"So much, Alpha," she replied, before kissing him hard. Jensen responded eagerly, opening his mouth for her as she introduced her tongue. He moaned again, her hips now steadily working against him.

Their clothes were quickly shed, each piece being thrown without care as they bared themselves to one another.

"Condom?" she asked bashfully as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Jensen blindly retrieved one, his face buried in Y/N's breasts as he licked and sucked at her supple flesh. He held it up to show her, still preoccupied. She chuckled and took it from him, opening it with her teeth.

"Wait," he said, finally lifting his head from her chest to meet her eyes after she rolled the condom down his shaft, "Don't you want me to-" his fingers strayed to her core and she shook her head adamantly.

"No," she breathed, "Just you."

She shifted her hips and sunk down on his length with a long moan. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her tightly to him. The breath was punched out of him. She surprised him, he wasn't ready. But at the same time, he was so fucking ready.

Hell, he was ready to take her and claim her in the alleyway last night.

After they both adjusted, he loosened his hold, keeping his arms securely around her. She pulled back to look into his eyes as she began to move, sliding slowly up and down. Her jaw dropped open, the sensation of his thick girth pushing and stretching against her walls amazingly perfect.

Jensen almost couldn't stand the intensity, the intimacy of her gaze. This was quickly becoming the sappiest moment of his life and he couldn't complain one bit.

"J-Jay," she breathed out, adjusting her hips to a new angle and pressing her chest against his. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of her calling his name. He groaned and went straight for her neck. After a good long scent, he opened his mouth, licking a line before clamping his lips down to suck a dark mark.

She cried out, her hips jerking, and he thrust up in response, sucking harder.

"D-don't claim me," she stuttered, riding him hard for the both of them.

"Not this time," he reluctantly agreed with a smirk.

He wanted to. God did he want to. He knew she was his and he was hers. But he also knew that she needed time to adjust. That she wasn't ready. That she wanted it but hadn't fully let herself believe it. He'd give her all the time she needed.

She panted as she rode him and he thrust up into her. He couldn't get the angle or speed that he wanted. And he wanted to be deeper. With a frustrated snarl, he wrapped his arms around her and dropped her on her back on the couch swiftly, still buried inside her.

She gasped and he plunged hard, knocking her body up the couch a few inches.

"Yes!" she cried out desperately, her nails digging into his shoulders. He growled and gave her all he had, riding them hard through their highs.

His knot popped and his teeth ached as his eyes locked onto her pulse beating rapidly beneath the taut skin of her neck. Feeling himself lose control, he turned his head, biting down into the couch cushion and growling as he emptied himself into the condom.

His teeth didn't release the pillow until his body calmed and he felt the urge pass. He immediately buried his face in her neck, lapping against the dark purple mark he'd left earlier, his mind letting him pretend it was his claim.

They spent the next few days in much the same fashion until her heat and his rut had finally passed.

"Stay just one more night with me?" he asked as she came out of the bathroom in her own clothes. Jensen ended up having her things delivered after all, "My flight's pretty early in the morning. But we can spend one more night," he pleaded, his hands on her waist as she shouldered her Winchester Bros. branded weekend bag.

He didn't miss the opportunity to playfully rib her over it either.

"I can't, Jay," she pouted. She had quickly adopted the nickname for him and he was thrilled with how comfortable she grew around him in such a short amount of time. He did his best all weekend to show - and say - just how much he wanted her and how sure about them he was.

"If you let me claim you we could take Mate Leave," he grinned.

She playfully slapped his shoulder and scolded him, "I just want both of us to be totally sure before making such a permanent commitment," she said for the umpteenth time that weekend.

"Next time then," he joked, wiggling his brows, "I stole one of your shirts, FYI," he added, blushing, "I think I'd go insane if I didn't have your scent around me."

"I guess that's okay," she said, "'Cause I took one of yours too," she looked to the ground bashfully. He laughed before cupping her face and kissing her hard.

"We'll find a way to see each other soon," he promised.

PART 3

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@deanjensenficsandart

@woodworthti666

@charred-angelwings

#spnabobingo #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen x reader #scent from above #part 2 #smut #a/b/o dynamics

214 notes · View notes

mooniefics · 3 years

Text

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"anything works."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

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

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

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

"are you afraid of me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"would you like to try some?"

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

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

"of course it isn't."

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

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

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

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

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

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

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

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

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

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

"could i see?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i said go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

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

"y-yes, sir..!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

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

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

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

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

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

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

"thank you, dear."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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🕯Anon said: just wanna say I adore your writing and how you write Reiner and the kids and the other warriors is my favourite thing ever !! I just wanna give them all hugs :) do u have any hcs for the types of jobs you see them all doing in modernverse ?🕯

The types of jobs they have in modern au

{Annie, Bertolt, Colt, Marcel, Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Zeke, }

{Implied Reiner x reader}

{ "Porto" 1935 by Renato Natali 1883-1979 }

Annie is an Animal rescue worker.

Having had experience as a dog trainer before, it wasn't hard to find a full time job at her local shelter after graduating high school, having volunteered there before.

With time, effort and a lot of energy she made her way into the position of "animal control officer" now she spends her days busting animal's abusers doors and rescuing injured or neglected pets.

With long shifts and a high maintenance job, her time was all poured into her work. Usually she'd be exhausted after a long day.

Despite that, she's fulfilled and satisfied with her job. Not having to deal with a lot of people is a plus too, it's a hard job yes but she prefers it this way.

Her friends are bumped about not being able to see her a lot but they understand, plus she keeps in touch with them by lurking in the group chat only to send a snarky remark to stir the pot every now and then.

Bertolt sees her everyday because they work at the same animal shelter, even if their jobs are different they still walk home together, she also met some different people like Hitch and Marco at her job.

The kids love her job, they think it's badass, especially Gabi and Udo. Gabi because Annie gets to kick people in the face and Udo because he genuinely cares about animals.

She'd never tell anyone this, but part of the reason she wanted the job was because she felt guilty for her past self and wanted to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Bertolt is a veterinarian.

Having changed his mind post graduation and going to college instead of with Reiner, he graduated after 4 years of studying and is currently working with Annie at the local shelter while also planning to open his own clinic one day.

He takes some animals under his personal care for weeks or months even till they get adopted, he fears something bad will happen to the weak or ill ones if left at the shelter overnight.

Just like Annie, the job takes a lot of his time, not to mention caring for animals off of work. So he's in the same situation as her, but for the sake of his best friend he still finds time to visit and hang out once a week.

Reiner and him still text daily, it's mostly pictures Bertolt took of the animals, Annie on her break, interesting plants he finds along the way. And Reiner replies with pictures of the kids.

They still find time to play basketball together, they try to keep it a secret from Annie because she will kick their ass in it.

Bertolt is comfortable with his job, he feels like he belongs and likes being needed. Yes the long hours are a con but seeing the fruits of his labour grow and get better day by day makes it all worth it.

The kids like visiting his house because there usually will be a new dog or some animal in there every month or so, Reiner makes sure they don't bother the animals.

Something he's never told anyone is a big part of the reason he changed his mind last minute was because Animals feel much safer and secure for him to work with than humans.

Colt is a college student working part time.

He's majoring in nursing, being a four years degree he's trying to balance his studies with work and taking care of Falco.

Zeke offered him to work full time after graduation at his clinic, since he's been working part time there for a while and the pay is good, plus it's really convenientnal.

He has worked different part time jobs in the past like a barista, flower shop assistant, tutor, kindergarten teacher, etc.

Between all his responsibilities he barely has time for himself, his courses end right before his work starts and the small bits in-between is spent on Falco and his friends. Zeke and Pieck try to take some of his responsibility but he refuses saying it's the least he could do to Falco.

He's really good at his job like multitasking, reading people, gaining their trust and having high stamina that he could stay for night shifts even.

He relies on coffee a lot.

Falco sees him as a real life superhero, they weren't that close before but after the incident he really started appreciating his big brother.

Something he keeps inside is that despite pursuing this job because he genuinely wanted to make a difference in people's lives and help the sick, he also felt a crushing guilt after his parents passed away, and so he's trying to save other people's lives now instead.

Marcel is a pilot.

It's a dream he always had since middle school, soon after graduation he joined the military to gain enough flying hours and experience to apply to a commercial airline after taking some mathematics, aviation and some general flying courses.

He was officially hired as a pilot after getting his first class medical certificate to check his health.

His work isn't measured by hours to him but by days, he needs to be available 24/7 in case of an emergency call. Now he's working overseas and far away from his friends.

You've actually never met Marcel, only seen pictures of him and received letters. The person he keeps in touch with the most is Porco.

He likes his work, it's his dream. He doesn't like the work hours and being so absent from his friends and brother, he misses them so much at times.

Pieck is a tattoo artist.

Her shop is actually her old flower shop after she decided to change her career. She's always been good with plants and taking care of them, at that time Colt worked as her assistant.

It wasn't till later after some years of practice and training under other artists that she was confident enough about her skills to start the project

Her art is full of life, mesmerising and beautiful. She puts her soul in every piece and has gained a good reputation because of it, plus having really high ratings and strict hygiene rules, no health inspector could ever challenge her.

Having her own independent work meant that she has a very flexible schedule, being mostly free ment she could pursue other hobbies like gardening.

A peaceful and simple life where she can indulge in her art and be happy is all she ever wanted

Porco is a frequent customer of hers that gets a family discount, Zeke came once before and later sent his friend, a really tall and blonde woman who became her most frequent customer.

Zofia thinks her work is really cool and wants to go and just watch her do her thing, but it's frowned upon to have a kid just sitting at a tattoo shop.

Despite changing into this career, the town people still think of her as the sweet flower shop lady.

Porco is a bartender.

That job came to him by accident more than anything, he was working part time as a bouncer in a local bar but a slot was open after the old bartender suddenly quit and he gave it a chance.

He didn't expect to love it so much, neither did he know about his hidden talent in mixing drinks. So he took it as full time and changed to better bars after gaining the experience he needed.

Being naturally charismatic and good at influencing people, while also multitasking in making drinks and keeping a conversation going, he was instantly a hit in whatever place he worked at.

Working the night shift ment he's mostly free in the morning, he tries to help Pieck with her gardening and is actually attempting to grow some plants at his house.

Naturally whenever there's a gathering, he's the one mixing drinks and being the self assigned bartender who openly judges his friends for their choice in drinks. The charismatic persona being thrown out the window and replaced by a no mouth filter.

He genuinely cares tho, he's the one taking care of someone when they drink more they can handle. It's mostly Colt who underestimates his drinks and is left clinging to Porco who drives him home.

Because of his line of work, tattoos and general brash personality, the kids' parents don't like him even one bit. They're suspicious of him no matter how many times Reiner assures them he's trustworthy.

It's actually only Colt who trusts Falco with him, and maybe Zofia's mom who is at the bar every weekend.

Reiner is a firefighter.

With his mother pushing him into this line of work, he applied for the physical and psychological exams after graduation before getting accepted. He wasn't unprepared per say but actually being in that line of work was more than he could ever prepare for.

It instantly took a great hit at his mental health, so much in fact that he was thankful Bertolt changed his mind last minute and didn't follow him in this job.

It was both everything he ever wanted, like saving people, helping children, animals and knowing it's him who saved them even if it means putting his own life at risk.

But also everything he hated, like the hunting faces and screams of the people who were far too gone for him to save, the recurring nightmares and constant guilt paired with imposter syndrome.

He works a 24/72 shift, meaning he works for a whole day before getting 3 days off. Approximately only working 7-8 days a month, not to mention unpaid leave, sick days and holidays.

So it both gave him a really tight schedule on some days and on others more free time than he knows what to do with, that's why he naturally took the main role of being the kid's caretaker. Looking after his little cousins genuinely helped him and he liked playing the big brother role.

Especially to Gabi, he was the only stable adult in her life. It's common knowledge that you call Reiner first for anything concerning her before her parents because he's more likely to answer and be available.

After meeting you, his life improved to the better as you moved in and became a trustworthy person in his life, someone he can depend on to take care of his little cousins on the days he works.

Not to mention that after you persuaded him to see a therapist, his mental health began improving too.

Gabi may or may have not committed arson at one point, she still wants to be a firefighter despite that and follow in Reiner's footsteps.

He hasn't told anyone beside you this, but he really fears for her, but doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Zeke is a doctor.

Previously he worked in a hospital but was able to open his own clinic afterwards, Colt was a great help to him at that time when he was getting on his own feet and even worked a lot of unpaid hours.

After that he insisted Colt works an official part time job there with a much higher pay, till he graduates at least. Plus the experience will greatly improve his resume.

Zeke is brilliant at his job, he'd be a perfect doctor wasn't it for the fact he's a huge hypocrite who doesn't follow the advice he gives his patients.

He does a side job in his free time that honestly no one of his friends know what it is, but they know it gained him a lot of connections and made new friends.

Something he always keeps buried inside was that he really never expected himself to become a doctor especially after what his dad did to his mother, and yet here he is. In some way it's like his own personal stepping stone to prove he's a better man than his father ever was.

Bonus:

Falco: middle schooler

He does volunteer work on the weekends, sometimes Udo joins him.

Doesn't want Gabi becoming a firefighter.

Likes all videogames , just all types.

Likes watching cartoons and medical shows with Colt who covers Falco eyes whenever an adult scene is on

His favourite food is chicken nuggets

Wants to try coffee

Is good at PE

Reads comic books

Likes yellow and blue

Gabi: middle schooler

Takes self defence classes and really wants to go to summer camp

Wants to be like Reiner, aspires to be as strong too.

Likes shooter videogames or really hard ones.

Likes watching Anime and cartoons

Her favourite food is Pizza

Wants to try energy drinks

Is also really good at PE and surprisingly good at puzzles.

Likes red and pink

Udo: middle schooler

Takes music classes at the weekend, wants to go to science camp

Kinda wants to be like Reiner or an astronaut.

Likes calming videogames

Likes watching anime and Minecraft let's play

His favourite food is mac and cheese

His favourite drink is strawberry milk

Is good at language classes and creative writing, he also just likes animals a lot.

Likes green and black

Zofia: middle schooler (could've been in a special program)

Takes music classes with Udo

Wants to be a lawyer

Likes co-op Videogames

Likes watching true crime and youtubers drama

Her favourite food is Donuts

She likes strawberry milk and ice tea

Is good at all classes

Likes white and purple

183 notes · View notes

likeiwishiknew · 3 years

Text

Azriel x Gwyn - Small Fires

Read on AO3

They had agreed to meet at Rhys and Feyre’s house by the river.

It was easier to have Lucien meet them there than to have him winnow part way to the House of Wind.

Azriel would admit he was in no rush to see the firey male. However, this wasn’t about what he wanted. But rather what Gwyn needed.

He’d truthfully never seen her angry before. Frustrated, stubborn, fierce, he’d seen that. Her anger at Devlon’s inaction, on the other hand, had been another story entirely. At first, Azriel had thought he'd imagined it. The shimmer to her skin, the spark just under the surface. Until he’d felt the heat rolling off of her and caught sight of fire flaring to life in her hands. Only then had he been certain it wasn’t his imagination.

He knew in that instant that he had needed to get her the hell out of that camp. The Illyrians had hardly been welcoming, but they’d be even less so if they further learned Gwyn's origins. They'd already considered her an outsider. The last thing anyone needed was for the Illyrians to deem her a threat.

Azriel did not fear them, not in the slightest. But he also wasn’t stuck living among them. Emerie was. And if Gwyn had done this for anyone it was Emerie. To see all her efforts de-railed by the blood that ran through her veins, something she had no say in, he refused to let that happen.

When they’d arrived at the house Lucien had been standing silently / sitting silently observing Elain with a thoughtful look on his face.

Elain appeared to be ignoring him as usual, though, as always, she did not send him away. She never did. Azriel had never noted so before, but now it was plain to see. Although an undercurrent of unease sat between them, neither of them ever fled the other’s presence.

Strangely enough, neither the realization did not bother him.

Instead, it was the fact that as soon Gwyn stepped into the room Lucien’s head turned her direction. The other male’s awareness of Gwyn, that bothered him.

What’s more, as soon as Lucien’s eyes landed on her he smiled.

Lucien stood up from where he sat and approached them. Elain did not move from her seat, but Azriel did not miss the brief flicker of her eyes toward Lucien’s back as he moved away from her.

Gwyn stepped forward to meet the male halfway.

She smiled at him fondly, earnestly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Azriel found himself disliking the other male more than ever.

- - -

Gwyn was surprised when Azriel had been the one to suggest bringing Lucien to meet her. She had a distinct impression that the two did not get along and that the feeling was entirely mutual. Which was a shame, because she quite liked both their company.

“Is everything alright Little Red?” Lucien asked as soon as he was close, “Rhysand was rather vague in his request that I come and see you.”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, “But there is something I think you should see.”

Lucien’s face grew concerned but he remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. Rather than say anything, Gwyn decided it best to try and show him.

Exhaling, she focused on her hands, tried to summon the flames and ignite her palms as she had in Devlon’s presence.

But nothing happened.

Maybe focus was not enough.

Gwyn thought about what she’d been feeling when the incident had happened. Her anger, her frustration, her desperation to not feel helpless. She attempted to recapture those feelings as she tried harder to call upon the fire.

Gwyn glanced down at her hands as she began to feel the tiniest kiss of heat.

No flames lit, but her skin had begun to glow a faint orange and she could sense the heat further building beneath her skin. Thus, she doubled down on the negative feelings she’d felt back at the camp and soon enough the tiniest flames flickered to life at her fingertips.

Looking up, she saw those very flames reflected in Lucien’s eyes. A slight smirk graced his lips.

“I suppose you truly do have fire in your blood, Little One.”

She could tell from his smile that he was remembering their previous conversation, and so Gwyn found herself smiling back. Far easier than they’d come, the flames faded. But she could still feel the warmth sitting just under her skin.

Lucien must’ve sensed it as well because he reached for her, but before he grasped her wrist he looked to her for permission. She gave him a single nod. And so, Lucien took her wrist in one hand and ran a finger along her veins. Likely getting a feel for her power.

“You’ll need training, to control it properly,” he commented.

She nodded again.

She’d had the same thought. Fire was a beautiful but equally destructive element. Gwyn knew well enough that she could not afford to lose control of it.

Like any skill, she would need to work on it, hone it. That was surely why Azriel had asked for Lucien to be brought to her in the first place, and she was grateful he’d had the foresight to know that she’d want to learn.

They were the same in that regard, she and Azriel. Both of them were always eager to learn, to acquire more knowledge.

She’d learned that back when they’d first grown close. It was one of the reasons Gwyn had known she could trust him.

Those willing to learn, who sought knowledge, were rarely if ever, bad people.

Gwyn would certainly have her work cut out for her though, with all the revelations this week.

She had hoped to learn more about her heritage and wound up discovering new abilities she knew next to nothing about. At least, they were new to her.

But the sooner she could get some grasp on them the better.

Lucien’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Come stay with me, I will train you.”

- - -

Lucien wanted to take her away. That was the last thing he caught of their conversation.

His shadows cried out their objection, to which Azriel agreed. He all but glowered at the male standing not so far from him. Not that Lucien noticed or even cared.

Before he could speak up in objection, Nesta beat him to it.

“Not a chance on hell, Vanserra,” the eldest Archeron sister spat, probably with more venom than was necessary.

He could always count on Nesta to speak her mind. Though at times it was to her detriment.

“Nesta,” Gwyn chastised, looking back over her shoulder at her friend, “Should it not be my choice?”

From the shock, upon Nesta’s face, it was clear the female had not been anticipating her friend’s response. Azriel had certainly not.

“You wish to leave the Night Court?” Nesta asked, her surprise evident in her voice.

“I did not say that, but I should like to have the chance to think about it,” Gwyn replied, turning back Lucien who'd kept his eyes focused on her the entire time.

“May I?” she asked the male.

Lucien nodded, “Of course.”

No one else in the room spoke up in favor or against the idea.

Elain was silent but her hand stilled on her flower arrangement she'd been working on the moment Lucien had made the suggestion. Nesta was clearly not excited about the prospect. Feyre, of course, eyed her sister worriedly, no doubt fearing Nesta would say something damaging she couldn’t take back. And naturally, his two brother’s moods were reflective of their mates. Cassian ready to step in should he need to, and Rhysand no doubt communicating silently with Feyre through their bond.

While Gwyn didn’t see Lucien as anything other than potential family, Azriel wasn’t so sure about the other male. Gwyn may very well belong to the Autumn Court, but that did not necessarily mean they were actually related.

And while Lucien might be mated to Elain, perhaps the other male might finally be considering abandoning the effort. It had been years now, and not all males were as foolish as himself. Content to wait around years in the hopes that something might change. It was quite possible, Lucien might entertain the idea of walking away.

Hearing Gwyn’s words to Nesta, that she would consider going off with Lucien to stay with his band of misfits left Azriel feeling cold. As though, if she went, Azriel would again find himself losing to the Autumn Prince. But as soon as he had the thought, he chased it away. Gwyn was not some prize to be won or lost. He knew that.

It took a moment, but Lucien finally seemed to read the tension in the room.

“If the idea of leaving makes you uneasy I have no issue with coming here to see you,” he offered, then, seeming to give it some further thought, looked to Feyre and Rhys, “Assuming I’m welcome move about the Night Court freely?”

Rhys appeared to consider this, whereas Feyre answered almost immediately.

“Of course you can,” his High Lady spoke with a smile.

Once upon a time, Lucien had been her first and only friend in the realm of Fae. Though Feyre never admitted it, he knew the rift in their relationship saddened her. Rhys knew it too. But there was nothing that could be done to fix it. Too much had happened, too much time had passed. One day they might find their way back to each other, but it would be no easy task.

Personally, he did much like the idea of seeing more of the Autumn Princeling. But if it was for Gwyn’s sake he’d learn to deal with it.

It was far better than the alternative.

- - -

Sometime after dinner, as talk again returned to a discussion over Gywn’s situation, along with that of the remaining mortal queens, Elain had managed to wander off.

As Gwyn was busy speaking with Nesta and Lucien, Azriel took it upon himself to check on the middle Archeron sister.

Unsurprisingly, he found her in the garden with her rose bush. The gloves Lucien had gifted her all those years protecting her delicate hands. She’d never thanked the other male for the gift, but Azriel had noted countless times how often she’d used them.

“How are you feeling about Lucien being here more often?” he asked.

She said nothing at first, only halting briefly in her pruning.

“He won’t exactly be here, will he?” Elain responded. Her tone sounding odd.

No, he supposed she was right. He wouldn’t be visiting the river house, but rather the House of Wind. But who was to say, given free reign, that he would not try and come to see his mate. Then again, as much as he disliked Lucien, the male was never one to appear uninvited.

“Have you ever thought about how much easier things might have been if you and I were mates?” she questioned softly.

Azriel blinked once, surprised by the turn-in conversation. But he knew the answer well enough.

He had.

But the cauldron had not seen it fit to bless him with a mate.

However, he had once coveted the beauty before him. Their attraction mutual, as far as he could tell.

“Yes,” he found himself admitting, “I have.”

- - -

Gwyn wound up in the small library of Rhysand and Feyre’s home. Though to call it small might’ve been a bit of an insult. It simply wasn’t as large as the once housed in the House of Wind. But it was nice, tidy, private. And she needed that bit of privacy right about now.

Gwyn dropped into one of the chairs by the window.

Azriel had wanted Elain for a mate.

The very idea broke her heart. A new crack forming among the many scars that already ran across it.

A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, but she wiped it away almost as quickly as it came. Which was just as well, because not a moment later she heard a knock.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lucien standing in the doorway. Normally, she’d have no issue detecting him. But clearly, her heightened emotions had her distracted.

It took a mere second for him to take in her face. His mood immediately shifted as he approached her. His long strides closing the distance between them with ease. Lucien sat down in the seat opposite her and placed a gentle hand on her knee.

“Little One, what’s wrong?” he voiced, concerned.

Gwyn pressed her lips together, inhaling deeply she forced herself to push the feelings down and keep the tears at bay.

“I’m an idiot,” she confessed.

Lucien straightened at that, “What?”

Her foolishness did not require explaining. It was Elain. It’d always been her. The necklace, everything...

Why had she done this to herself? Why had she gone and allowed her hopes to flourish again?

Gwyn shook her head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

From the look on his face, Lucien obviously did not want to let it go at that. But he conceded to her all the same.

“Alright,” he let out reluctantly.

The male stared at her with thoughtful eyes.

“My offer to take you away from this place still stands,” Lucien spoke softly, as though fearing someone might hear, “Clearly, something here has upset you. I will take you away from it, should you wish.”

She appreciated his willingness to help her by any means. In truth, Gwyn hardly knew anything about Lucien. Only second-hand stories she’d heard from Nesta and the others. But she found something about him inherently trustworthy. Her gut insisted that he would not hurt her, and she was inclined to believe it.

She’d been honest when she’d said she would consider his offer. The idea of leaving the comfort and security of the library, the Night Court, left her feeling a tad apprehensive. But in recent months Gwyn had started to learn to push past that feeling.

Lucien’s idea made sense from a practical standpoint. It would get her out of her comfort zone, and she’d have a teacher readily available. She knew she’d be safe. After all, if Emerie could manage to live among men she loathed. Gwyn could certainly learn to live with Lucien.

Yet despite knowing that, she still felt uneasy.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to leave,” she admitted.

She’d miss everyone, Nesta, Cassian, her fellow priestess’...Azriel.

Lucien said nothing in response, only sat there quietly, ready to listen.

“I know it sounds silly. It’s not as though I’m leaving to never return again. It’s just, the idea of being away...it feels strange. For years now, this place, this court has been my life. My home.”

But then Gwyn was struck with the realization that she hadn’t this way when she’d wound up staying at the Illyrian camp. She hadn’t felt as though she’d left home at all.

Because Azriel been there with her.

Her throat ached at the thought.

He wanted someone else. Had always wanted someone else, despite the fact that the female already had a mate. A mate who happened to be sitting right in front of Gwyn now. She wondered if Lucien knew. Though she supposed, he had to.

He might not have been as old as three males of the Inner Circle, but he’d certainly been around long enough to learn how to read other’s intentions.

And yet he did nothing. He did not pressure Elain, nor did he seem to hold any resentment toward her for entertaining the company of another male. He also never returned her coldness toward him. Lucien was only ever the patient mate, waiting on the sidelines for the female the Cauldron destined for him to make her decision.

Gwyn wondered how long he’d be willing to wait.

She found herself almost envious of the other female. She wondered what that must be like, to be wanted, to be adored. Until she remembered something her mother had always said. That envy was one of the worst sins. It could twist even the purest hearts into wicked things.

She refused to go down that path.

Gwyn had plenty in her life to be thankful for. She would not ask nor demand more.

She was content. Gwyn had friends who were like family. A possible family that she might one day reunite with. Every day she grew stronger and more skilled in combat, more capable of fighting for herself and those she loved should war descend upon them.

If she could gain mastery over her fire, she would prove stronger still.

“A home will always be a home, if it is where you are meant to be you’ll always find a way back,” Lucien said, his voice close to a whisper.

She stared up at him, to find him watching her.

“I will never force you to do anything you do not want to or are not comfortable with. I only want you to understand that you will always have options and that in your life the only one with the right decide what you do is yourself.”

The way he spoke, she could tell his words were as much a reminder for him as they were for her.

“I know first-hand what it feels like to believe you have no other choice. It leads one to make mistakes one can never take back.”

Gwyn eyed him with concern, “Have you done something you regret Lucien?”

His eyes saddened, “Far too many things.”

She wanted to reach out to him, hug him, and tell him that she believed in his goodness. That his mistakes alone surely did not define him. But Gwyn wasn’t sure that was what he wanted, and so she held back.

Lucien rubbed her head and gave her a small, almost bittersweet, smile as he rose from his seat.

"Let me know what you decide, Little Red,” he said briefly before departing without another word.

With him gone, she was once again left alone in the library with her thoughts. And what a great many she had.

- - -

They’d returned to the House of Wind rather late that night, after having had dinner at the river house.

Cassian and Nesta had gone off together almost immediately upon their return. In the months since their mating, their hunger for each other had yet to subside. Though, if they were anything like Rhys and Feyre, it was likely it never would.

He was happy for his brothers, even if it left him feeling a bit green with envy at every reminder.

Gwyn had not said much to him on the way back. But he’d overheard her telling Nesta that she intended to work out in the training ring despite the late hour. Something about needing that time to think.

And so, after he’d gotten his own affairs in order, Azriel headed up to the ring to find her.

As he neared Azriel could sense his shadows begin to dance. They moved as though in time with a song he himself could not quite hear.

Reaching the archway, he caught sight of Gwyn. Her movements were rhythmic and fluid, the sword she was wielding a perfect extension of her arm.

She must’ve sensed him because she stopped what she was doing and turned his way.

Their eyes met, but her expression did not change. It remained perfectly neutral. A practiced look that he all too easily recognized, because it was one he enacted almost every day of his life. The sight of it on her face fed his growing concern.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

It took her a moment, but she nodded, “I have a lot to think about.”

In that regard, he agreed with her. The last few days had no doubt proven life-changing for her. She’d awoken abilities she’d never even known she had. But something in her tone, in her voice, in her steady effort to keep her neutral expression in place gave her away to him.

“You’re honestly considering leaving with him.”

Neither of them needed to clarify who it was Azriel spoke of. They both knew.

Yet for some reason, Gwyn appeared surprised at his directness. Her beautiful eyes widening a fraction in response. But she did not speak up in denial. They stared at each other a moment longer before she managed an answer.

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

Azriel found himself stepping into the ring, closing the distance between them.

“Why?” he found his voice rising, “Lucien has already offered to teach you here.”

And he’d come to terms with that, but the idea of Gwyn leaving? He had not prepared himself for that.

She inhaled, before answering, “I know.”

Then why were they having this discussion?

“But it might do me some good to see what lies beyond the borders of the Night Court.”

Azriel did not want to trap her here. He would never dream of it. He had always been supportive of her broadening her horizons, seeing the world. She deserved a chance to learn, to live.

Yet something had him fearing her leaving in this current state. As though, if she left now she might not come back. He could not explain why he thought this, but he felt the certainty of it in his very bones.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he attempted to say, only to realize that wasn’t what they'd agreed on.

“When did I say that?” she naturally responded.

He corrected his wording, “You said you wouldn’t run from me.”

- - -

His words struck her, leaving her unsure as to what to say.

She wasn’t running from him. Was she?

“I’m not running from you, Azriel,” Gwyn found herself insisting, “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, how I feel.”

She wasn’t lying about that, not exactly. Gwyn had tried to put her growing feelings for Azriel aside to protect their friendship, but the more time they spent together the harder that was proving to be.

Gwyn had believed she’d been successful right up until their time in the Illyrian camp. When she’d come face to face with the prospect of Azriel with another. The sight had left her with an ache in her chest, and though he’d run after her to assure her there was nothing going on between him and the female it did not mean that he wouldn’t have a relationship with someone else in the future.

That someone might be Elain or it might not. All that mattered was she could not behave the way she had at camp. Little by little she had to learn to let these feelings go. Because locking them away clearly wasn’t working.

Distance might help save what was between them.

“You’re lying,” Azriel insisted, “I’m not sure why but there’s something you aren’t being honest about. I can feel it.”

His observation left her feeling angry.

“Stop that,” she shouted, “Stop trying to see into my head, my heart. You have no right.”

For the briefest of moments, Gwyn found herself blaming him for her inability to let go. He was the one sending her mixed signals, acting as though he might want something more with her only to turn around and admit to wanting another female as his mate.

Her feelings were to mostly blame, but he was not faultless. How could she let him go when he seemed to not want her to?

“Gwyn,” he said almost pleadingly.

But she could not do this. Not now when her emotions were running high, clouding her judgment.

“I need to go. Try to get some rest. I’m sure I have a lot to catch up on with Merrill in the morning.”

His face shuttered.

“I see.”

He said nothing else.

And so she moved past him, leaving him standing there in the ring alone.

- - -

It had been days and still nothing.

After her discussion with Lucien in the library, Rhysand had found her there.

When she’d started to apologize for wandering off, he’d brushed it off and reassured her he did not mind her presence in the library.

Instead, he’d asked her a favor. The High Lord had explained to her his suspicions about the book she and Azriel had encountered in the library. Both he and his second in command, Amren, believe that the book was related to one of two things. True witches or the true immortals. Both of which would prove dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.

When she’d questioned the High Lord about owning the book he admitted that he’d never come across such a thing, had not even known it existed amongst the vast collection of books he’d inherited.

Rhysand had tasked her with finding the book, by any means necessary. Gwyn had been trying for the last week or so and still she had nothing to show for it. She’d tried asking the House. She’d checked the library archives for any mention of such an ancient tome, and she’d all but searched every single shelf on the floor she and Azriel had been on when it appeared.

Wherever the book was, she felt rather certain it was content to remain hidden there.

The hours she’d spent had not been a complete waste though. It gave her a distraction.

Busy as she was, she almost forgot about the argument she’d had with Azriel. If it could be called an argument.

But he needed to understand that if she chose to leave it would be because it was what was best for her, not because she was running away from anything. She knew better than anyone that there were two things in life you could never outrun, the past and your own feelings.

So for now, she would remain in the Night Court. Not for Azriel, but for herself. Because she felt there was something she was meant to do here, and she had a strong inclination it had something to do with the book she'd been tasked with finding.

And she would find it, one way or another.

- - -

He sat with Nesta and Elain in the living room of Rhys and Feyre’s home.

Elain held Nyx within her arms, the little rascal giggling wildly as she played peekaboo with him.

Azriel himself wasn’t particularly familiar with the game, but both Nesta and Feyre had assured him and the others that it was a common practice in the mortal realm. Along with pretending to steal a child’s nose, which, personally, made no sense to him.

Then again, many mortal traditions did not.

Cassian was speaking with Rhys and Feyre. Nesta had intended to join them, but Azriel had asked to speak to her first. It was something that had seemed to surprise all of them.

In fact, Cassian had made some joke about it. Not that he’d paid much attention to it.

No, he’d kept quiet until he and Nesta were alone. Well, aside from Elain and Nyx.

The four of them sat under the warm afternoon sun in the garden that Elain tended to.

“Gwyn wouldn’t be avoiding you over nothing,” Nesta remarked.

He knew that of course. But days had passed since he’d last seen her and he was no closer to figuring out what it was that had caused the sudden shift in her attitude toward him. She still hadn’t chosen to take Lucien up on his offer to spirit her away from the Night Court.

According to Nesta, the other male had agreed to come once a week to meet with Gwyn. And so he was due for a visit soon. Azriel needed to fix the rift between him and Gwyn before then.

“Do you think she could’ve overheard our conversation in the garden that day?” Elain spoke up, as she lifted Nyx off the ground to spin him around.

Nesta eyed Azriel, “What conversation?”

He gave it some thought and realized Elain might be right.

Usually, his shadows alerted him when anyone approached, but that often wasn’t true when it came to Gwyn. And the timeline made perfect sense. They’d been fine when they’d left the Illyrian camp and when they’d first arrived at the river house. It hadn’t been until after dinner when they were getting ready to return to the House of Wind that Azriel had noted the strangeness in her mood.

If that was the case he could easily understand how his words might’ve been misconstrued.

Azriel had admitted to once wishing that Elain was his mate. It stood to reason Gwyn might think he still felt that way.

But, if so, why hadn’t she said anything to him about it?

He considered this a mere second before the answer grew obvious.

What reason had he given her too?

Closing his eyes, Azriel took a deep breath.

He knew now what he needed to do.

~ ~ ~

Notes: Sorry this one is coming to you a little late. I’ve been a bit of a mini rut this week between writing this fanfic and working on my own original story. I also haven’t been reading much these past few weeks, my free mostly spent watching baking shows, so I’ve been a bit short on inspiration. And I do not like putting anything out that I do not enjoy reading myself. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the end product of my toil.

As always, any feedback is appreciated =)

~ ~ ~

@azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @bittermuire @ofstarsanddreams @corrdolium @toolazymyguy @inkdrinkershadowsinger @itswrongsong @dealingdifferentdevils @rhysmoira

@brucexselina @inejjg @rhysmoira @gwynnight @fairytamy @bluegold08 @amandapearls @highqueentaey @lioness-says @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @princessofmerchants-reads @cantkeepmyeyesoffofyou-x

@my-fan-side @spookylightkidranch @velaaaris @keramzinskies @itswrongsong @mirubyjane

@lovelywordsandwine @ladygwynriel @parisakamali @mirubyai

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #sarah j maas #gwynriel #azriel x gwyn #azwyn #love #otp #fanfiction #read on ao3 #ao3 update #friendship #romance #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 3 years

Text

Evocations: XIV (c)

Olivia wasn't about to let the hospital call Alex's parents before she did, so she lied, told the doctor that she would have to retrieve their contact information. Still numb, she found an indoor courtyard that was walled almost completely with glass. It was cool inside, and she could hear the faint trickle of a fountain.

With shaking fingers, she dialled Darcie's number. The older woman, who still had a protective detail of her own, picked up after a single ring.

"Olivia? What is it?"

The sting of pain in her throat, and her eyes was enough to make the stone-tiled floor swim beneath her. She swallowed, then choked only, "Darcie . . ."

But Alexander's mother already knew. The sound of Olivia's voice, the hour of the phone call. "Alexander!" she shrieked in desperation for her husband.

Olivia told them weakly to be on the next flight to the city. After that, Darcie began to scream.

The faintest streaks of dawn light were bleeding into the sky by the time Elliot convinced Liv to let him drive her home. He swept her place, spoke with the detail set up in the hall, then offered to stay with her a while longer if she wanted. She sent him away, wanting only silence.

After locking the door behind him, Liv turned to the apartment, which suddenly seemed ridiculously large for one person, and empty of everything that had made it comforting. In her hands was the jacket that Alex had been holding over her shoulder when . . . when it happened.

Her eyes welled with fresh tears as she stroked the material between her fingers, trying to find some reality in what was happening. Walking slowly, as if her feet pushing air was enough to hold her down, Liv coasted to the kitchen, managed to pour herself a glass of wine, and slid onto a stool at the island, unclipping her holster to lay her gun alongside the wine bottle.

As she sipped her wine, the jacket lay across her thighs, and Olivia smoothed her hands over and over it. After a few more sips, she picked the coat up and brought it to her face, burying her face. A body-shaking sob rose from her chest and poured out of her as Liv breathed deep of Alexandra's soothing scent.

The sobs continued their painful, air-stealing march from her, as she let grief rip her heart in two, until she was gasping to get her lungs to refill, her cries coming out soundlessly. Olivia hugged the jacket against her body, begging to be allowed to crawl into the grave with Alexandra.

This was when she felt something in one of the pockets. It startled her enough to cause her sobbing to relent suddenly, stuttering to a pause as she sniffed hard, looking down dumbly as if she couldn't remember how pockets worked. Long minutes crawled by, until finally Liv worked her hand inside, closing around the item and pulling it out.

When she registered what it was, sitting there in her palm, small and square and much too real - unlike the rest of the night - her heart began to pound.

No, she thought. No, please. Though she didn't know who she was pleading with.

Olivia's breathing was shallow as she opened the velvet box, to reveal the magnificent rose gold ring inside. A noise that defied description left her then, and she placed the open box on the kitchen island as though what had just been revealed was from the climax of a horror film - an eyeball perhaps, or an ear cut from a story's protagonist.

Before her on the counter from left to right, there sat the bottle of red wine, the open ring box, the half-glass of wine, and her gun snug in its holster. Liv sat, unblinking, her brown eyes fixed on the ring.

Suddenly her hand was on her gun, fingertips pressed hard into the cold, familiar steel. Could a heart pound and time slow simultaneously? Olivia's shock-addled mind was nowhere and everywhere at once. Was she trying to ground herself? Shoot herself? If asked, she couldn't have said for sure.

Then she was plucking the ring from the box, and she pushed it slowly onto her finger, admiring its understated elegance. She thought about the dinner Alex had planned, about the way the blonde had looked at her the other night while she had been trying out the new dress.

Her eyes filled up again, and she stood up abruptly, Alex's jacket pooling to the kitchen floor in a whisper. Liv tried to imagine Alexandra on one knee, tried to imagine her eyes when she said yes. The hollow that grief had carved out inside of her was like a crack in a house, letting in cold wind.

The hand wearing the ring pulled her gun from its holster, her palms cold sweating onto the steel, the other onto the marble counter. All of a sudden, the ticking of the kitchen clock was cacophonous.

Then Olivia blinked and her lungs filled again, as though someone had released a pull-string at her back. She released her clutch on her gun, then removed the ring from her finger, placing it back in the box and closing it up matter-of-factly. As fresh tears began to fall, she picked up the wine glass, still half full, and threw it with a grunting shriek across the room. It hit the backsplash to the left of the sink, shattering into shards of glinting glass and streaking red everywhere. Sky High jumped up from where she had been dozing at Olivia's feet and yelped.

Just like Alex's blood, she thought.

Picking up the bottle, she bent to retrieve Alexandra's jacket, then turned to move into the living room. In just a few hours, Darcie and Alexander would land in New York, and they would want answers.

The fact that became startlingly clear once the elder Cabots arrived, was that young lawyers are much less prepared for death than young cops.

Olivia's legal Will was on file, tucked neatly away in a filing cabinet in the unseen heart of One Police Plaza. Earlier just that year, she had officially updated the paperwork to name Alexandra as her sole beneficiary in the event of her death. No such paperwork existed for Alex. The statuesque blonde had been brilliant, stubborn, and utterly defiant when it came to matters of danger or finality. The irony was lost on none of them.

Alexander made a valiant effort to convince Olivia to keep the apartment the two had shared, but she couldn't bring herself to agree to it. Once they travelled back home, she told them, she would take Sky to her old place and they were free to sell the empty place if they chose.

It was no surprise that Darcie participated little in the long list of things that needed to be done in New York. She moved like a ghost from room to room in the apartment, looking but not truly seeing. Alexander and Liv shouldered the responsibility of going through Alex's work desk, closets, bills, and other assets or responsibilities.

Enraged by the fact that Liv hadn't been allowed to see Alex before her body was taken away, he arranged for the majority of her financials to be put into Liv's name. He also agreed on splitting any sale of the apartment in half. They worked out the details of the funeral service with as much input from Darcie that they could wring from the medicated, shell-shocked woman.

On the third day, Olivia returned to work. Being with Elliot felt safe, and kept her mind on work. The mood in the bullpen, however, was no better than the apartment. They all knew the funeral was coming, and their faces were all roadmaps of grief, guilt, and anger.

It was very late when Liv let herself in to the guarded apartment that night. She'd assumed that Darcie and Al would both be asleep in the guest room. So when she rounded into the living room to find the older man sitting up in the armchair, Olivia jumped visibly and caught her breath.

"Sorry," she exhaled, "I thought you'd be asleep."

The tall man had a glass of scotch that he was holding with both hands, and only one lamp was on, throwing a circle of light over his midsection, where Sky High was curled on his lap.

"I've been having as much trouble sleeping as you have," he said quietly.

Liv had been napping fitfully, on the living room sofa, at intervals of about an hour or so, clutching Alexandra's jacket.

"Get yourself a drink, Olivia," Al said. "Sit with me."

She returned from the kitchen with a glass of wine. She sat silently across from him on the sofa and they eyed each other stoically over the rims of their beverage glasses with the weight of their pain. Olivia loved the man; she wondered if he blamed her.

"When my little girl was still a little girl," he spoke up abruptly, evenly, "she loved to tell me that she was going to do everything when she grew up. Like it was a job she could apply for: The Person Who Does Everything, instead of teacher or doctor. 'Daddy,' she would say, 'I'm going to do everything, at least once, you know!'"

Liv sipped her wine as he smiled softly. "So, she started right away. Anything she could try, Alexandra was first in line, clamoring for the opportunity. She danced ballet, took art classes, tried photography, broke and then showed horses, buddied up with chefs to learn from . . . and in school, anything she studied she aced.

"Math, Biology, Music, Physics - it didn't matter. Alex applied the same work ethic to them all equally, just because she loved learning new things. When she came home from university with her first girlfriend, I think Darcie and I wrote it off as just part of her mission to have every experience." He laughed at that, watching the light as it caught the amber glow of his scotch.

"Finally, of course, she settled on studying law. I think that surprised me the most, to be honest - that she went with something folks would have seen as obvious. But I don't think I ever thought of her as 'becoming' a lawyer. I just kept on thinking of her as Doing Everything. Her life was just the long act of trying everything on for size."

Alexander Cabot looked up and caught Olivia's exhausted, sad gaze. "Falling in love with you changed her, Olivia. Suddenly, 'everything' was somebody and not an unpinned location. She wasn't any less stubborn, or brave, of course," he chuckled, "but . . . she was satiated. Loving you was a triumph. I'm glad that she found that. It comforts me."

Olivia prayed that Al couldn't see the tears in her eyes across the shifting shadows of the room. She wanted so much to tell him about the ring box that was now buried in her underwear drawer, wanted to say, Look, look at what your daughter saw me worthy of.

But the words were tangled in her throat like knotted string, making her afraid that what came out wouldn't make sense.

When her glass was empty, she laid it on the side table and rose to her feet. As she passed the arm chair, Al took the hand that wasn't carrying his daughter's jacket. He squeezed it gently.

"This wasn't your fault, Olivia," his voice rumbled.

The funeral was in less than 36 hours.

Every motion in the office the day before the funeral felt like plodding through quicksand. The only one who even sounded right was Cragen, father to them all, trying to maintain some normalcy to keep things from sinking altogether.

"Well, isn't that nice." Cragen grimaced.

"What?" Munch asked.

"Rafael Zapata Gaviria was found dead in a holding cell awaiting a hearing. No witnesses," he announced.

"There goes Velez's extradition," Fin tagged on.

"I long for the days when the government would send in the Delta Force assassination squad," Munch shook his head.

Cragen approached Olivia and Elliot. "DEA Agent Hammond wants to see you guys tonight. There's the address." He passed along a piece of paper.

"What for?" Elliot asked him.

"Something about closin' out the case."

It was truly the middle of nowhere, and full dark when Olivia and Elliot pulled into the sandy dune lined with tangles of greenery. Crickets chirped wildly as they crossed to Hammond through the soft terrain.

"Nice location. Convenient," Elliot quipped.

"Sorry. Only way to do this."

"Do what?" Liv asked, noting the unusual amount of cars and agents.

"Wouldn't take no for an answer. Real pain in the ass, this one," Hammond griped.

The two detectives watched as a van door slid open, and a dead woman stepped into the moonlight. For one terrifying moment, Olivia thought she was dreaming, and that the fabric of the universe would threaten to yawn open and swallow her before she could hear Alex speak.

"I am so sorry about all of this," was what the blonde said. She was clearly exhausted, and a silk scarf hid the evidence of her gunshot wound.

Elliot gaped openly as tears filled his partner's eyes. "Your funeral's tomorrow," was what she managed to reply.

"And you're both expected to attend," Hammond cut in. "For the time being, Ms. Cabot's better off dead. If Velez can get to Zapata, he can get to her."

"Witness protection," Elliot guessed.

"Until Velez is extradited or otherwise dealt with."

No moment the agents could have granted them would have been enough to say all of the things that were screaming inside of Olivia like a siren gone awry. I love you - your parents are here - I found the ring - don't go again - I would've said yes - I'll die without you - thank God you're alive.

"How long?" she asked, stepping closer to Alexandra instinctually, her voice clotted with tears. Alex's eyes were also haunted, with wants, with questions, with guilt. She shrugged her shoulders sadly, not having an answer.

She wouldn't kiss her. Not there, not then. It wasn't a lack of want, but from knowing that if they touched each other, neither of them would let the other go again.

Static crackled over a radio, and a Marshall said, "We're on the move. Sorry, folks."

Another agent said, "Move them out," and Liv and Elliot watched as Alexandra stepped out of their lives again - this time, much more quietly.

When the vehicles had all followed behind, leaving just the two detectives in the cold October night, Olivia let out the sob she had been choking back. When Elliot reached out a hand, she stumbled away from the gesture, hunching over the curb and dry heaving above the grass as wave after wave of nausea knotted her stomach.

Elliot rubbed her back carefully, as though soothing one of his daughters, and waited until she was ready to stand up. When she at last met his gaze, she was wondering how she could go home to Darcie and Alexander and pretend their only child was still dead. How would she go on doing anything, when her entire life had winked out like the sudden last gasp of a dying star?

El smiled sadly, threw an arm around her shoulder, and herded her towards their sedan. For now, nobody had answers, just a trail of destruction and change left behind in the New York Autumn.

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alexandra cabot #alex cabot #olivia x alex #cabenson #evocations #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #fanfic #my fanfiction #angst #loss #elliot stabler #john munch #fin tutuola #donald cragen

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eveenstar · 3 years

Text

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧||

Summary: After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.

Tags/Warnings: Angst.

Author's Note: Hello! Well, here's chapter 2 as promised. Kinda didn't like the ending, took me 3 takes. I also left a easter egg somewhere in this chapter, wanna see who'll notice it :)) Feedback is much appreciated ♡ Hope y'all enjoy!

Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes

The ball room has never been so colorful like before, and you were certain you had never felt so many eyes laid on you like shadows in the dark. Like they were waiting for one single wrong move from you, a false step, so to say.

Your feet almost slid across the floor as you searched for your grandfather Palpatine in the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen. So many unfamiliar faces and no one to recognize, but again, you had no friends.

"Hello."

You turned around and met the brown eyes of your sister, Rey, who was staring at you with a relaxed smile.

"Oh, hello me?" You stupidly looked around in a brisk, "Uh, hi. You look beautiful! Is that mother's dress?"

An astonishing scarlet dress with a V neckline, you wouldn't say it was adequate for the coronation, but she looked amazing in it. Rey's new crown fit her head perfectly, you swore it was your father's crown but the newly red crystal on it made you doubt a little. What kind of crystal was that, anyway?

"I can say the same about you." Rey sweetly smiled and looked to the huge crowd dancing around the large gala room. She never looked at you for too long, you guessed it was merely because...well, you actually had no idea.

"Your Majesty, the duke of Alzakan."

"Alsakan! Duke of Alsakan! Ahem," You stared at Rey, and given to you two being sisters, you could sense how tense she'd gotten when a taller man approached her and overly exaggerated bowed down. You don't remember hearing about this duke's arrival, even if he made it seem like he was the brightest star of the room.

The queen gave him a polite nod.

"Your Majesty, as your most profitable trading partner, it is an honor to finally meet the true queen of Naboo." The man gently kissed Rey's hand, but even if it was just a respectful greeting, you didn't blame her for being tense. This duke had the energy of a child that ate too much sugar.

Behind Rey, you coughed by accident and it caught their attention as you saw both heads turn to you with brows furrowed. You got your perfect princess posture back and offered them a apologetic smile and a wave.

Rey put herself in front of you as a way of ending this embarassing moment and distract the duke as she offered her hand for a shake.

"I must say the same about you, Duke Pryde. My grandfather spoke very highly of you." This surely boosted Pryde's ego as he smug smirked to his guards behind him, "I hope our trade routes will remain as sucessful as they were with my parents."

"Well, I, uh." Their conversation faded to background noise as you tried to distance yourself from the spotlight and pretend this never happened, maybe if you slowly backed off nobody would notice the younger princess slinding off somewhere.

You felt too many eyes on you, even if your eyes were certain nobody was watching you. You did not plan on disappointing anyone, at least, not at your sister's coronation party. Full of grace, you looked to the crowd and surroundings, and your eyes paused on a strange symbol on the far away wall just to your right. It was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon, denoting an explosive force pushing against attempts to contain it.

You were quite sure you'd seen this symbol before, somewhere. Your eyes only focused on the sigil as you tried your hardest to search your memories for it. But, the closer you got to it, an invisible force pushed it further from your grasp. Just like sand slips through your fingers when you attempt to hold it.

In fact, you do not remember your childhood, nor your early teenage years. Not a single thing. You just remember the feelings after something traumatic had happened; the loneliness, the pain, the anger and more loneliness. Sometimes, as of right now, your mind didn't feel like your own, nor did your memories. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Someone who was not you.

Tu'iea eyes deceive tu, isar nenx jostas savimi

The whispers in the walls. There they were again. They always came from the walls, but you only say that because you hate to admit that they sound right next to you.

"(Y/N)?"

You loudly gasped as you turned around in a fright, your eyes met Rey's once more. She was frowning, and with a slight worried look painted on her eyes. Oh, you hoped nobody heard it.

"Is everything alright?"

You quickly washed off your scared face and laughed to ease the situation you were currently stuck in, hoping she wouldn't do any questions about it. Or mention it by any case.

"Dear stars, yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. It was probably just some bug."

She nodded, and only when she moved away from you that you realized Rey was holding your hand in a way of calling for your attention. Before moving to her side, you glanced an eye to the wall where the symbol was, but it wasn't there.

"This party looks so alive." Rey commented besides you, her eyes were as bright as stars in the sky as she watched the people dance like there was no worries in the whole galaxy.

"Maybe we could keep the gates open." You suggested, your heart full of hope. "Your queen now, Palpatine can't control us anymore. We can bring life back into the palace!"

"We can't just change things without thinking, (Y/N)."

"But why not? It can be like before. I don't understand." You softly grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, "This party doesn't have to be the only one. We can have plenty of more!"

"That's right," She replied, and your smile stretched further, "You don't understand. You never will. Things will never be like before."

And just like that, you felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces, like somebody just pulled your heart out of your chest and stabbed it right in front of you. Even if you and Rey weren't close, she had never spoken to you that way. No, something changed about her.

Upon realizing her mistake, Rey let go of your hands and smiled, but a strange one. A forced smile.

"Forgive me, I...Excuse me."

Not even giving you the chance to apologize, you watched Rey disappear behind some group of horned beings, which you didn't even try to remember what they were before you heard another voice behind you.

"Princess (Y/N), we meet again." Kylo Ren, that voice was impossible to forget. "I was just about to meet the queen, did something happen?"

"Oh, no, she had to...to talk to some duke of Alzakan." You looked back at with, forcing the same smile Rey had just pulled ten seconds ago.

"You look upset." His coal eyes were analyzing you once more, as if he was trying to read your inner thoughts. His eyes were like black holes, you quote internally, so easy to get lost in. They held so many emotions within. Your mother used to tell you that your eyes are mirrors to your soul, and you believe it, most of the time. You wonder what kind of soul Kylo Ren had.

"I'm sorry, do you want to get some air?"

The king silently nodded and gave you the front lead to the palace private gardens, your most favorite place to wander around and be in contact with nature, since you weren't allowed to leave the palace's grounds.

The echoes of the enchanting gala sounds began to fade in the background at each step you took farther from it. The shiny walls were replaced by glass ones, the only barrier between you and the actual garden. It was ethereal at moonlight, a complete breathtaking view. If you were to choose a place to spend all of eternity, this garden would be the chosen one.

Saturn Gardens.

The name you remember choosing for them when you were a child. Which doesn't make a lot of sense since it's only one garden, but hey, who cares right? Saturn was a funny name, you had a slight feeling it belonged to a name of something you were deeply fond of, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was. Nonetheless, you were thankful you choose a good name for them.

Yvir always told you how heavenly you looked at moonlight, and you're sure of it. This place is almost magical, so peaceful and silent even when there's a party happening just on the end of the hallway. You remember falling asleep here a few times, either it was reading or painting. You were quite a multi-talent person thanks to growing up bored and isolated on a huge palace, so you've gained a few skills here and there. This place was your big centre of inspiration.

You felt free here, from all responsabilities and troubles of life.

You discreetly glanced a curious eye to Kylo, who was walking besides you and attentively exploring the garden with his eyes only. In your mind, you wondered if he had a safe place too. A place where he felt free of everything, where he could relax without troubles, or where he felt inspired. Maybe everyone has something like that, you're not sure.

"Truth be told, I have no idea why my grandfather ordered the gates to be closed, or why most staff was fired." You sighed while your fingers gently passed through some book pages laying there on the pale blue glass table. Kylo looked over to you with an intrigued gaze. "Or why my sister shut me out. It was always me and myself."

So distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed Kylo taking your hand from the book and hold it. His hands felt warm, surprisingly, as you had imagined that they were cold as ice. In difference to yours, his hands were also far larger. It caused a small smile across your lips.

"I spent most of my childhood lonely too." He admitted, his eyes never leaving your hands. "My parents were either ignoring me or too busy to hear me."

You remember the stories about them, but you didn't want to cross the line and ask him. This conversation you and the king of Alderaan were currently having was something that already cross rule number three; never mention his parents. So this caught you off guard.

Probably noticing your tense posture, Kylo's eyes shifted to yours; they held such a curious yet comforting gaze, as if this was his attempt to say "it's okay" without actually saying those two words. The moon behind him made him seem like an angel.

"I know how you feel." He assured you calmly. You were so lost in his eyes, so lost in the way they stared at you. "You can talk to me."

If you could preserve this moment, you would. You'd keep it close to your heart and protect it from all darkness in the galaxy. The mighty and mysterious Kylo Ren, former prince and now king of Alderaan, just opened his heart to you and pronounced those five words that you had never been told before.

You hoped this wasn't a dream. It'd break your soul if it was.

"Do you dance?" Upon your sudden question, Kylo raised an eyebrow. You got up from your seat and twirled around, loving the way your dress moved. "Will you dance with me?"

Even if his lips didn't move, his eyes expressed all the emotions you needed. They were like a calm ocean, or the rising sun in a early morning.

"My lady," He politely offered you his hand, once more. "It would be my pleasure."

You smiled, the most genuine smile you'd had in a long time. Your heart was filled with joy and excitement, hopefully it wouldn't jump out of your chest by the way it was beating so fast. Faster than the way you rushed to the coronation. You never felt like this for someone, no, and definitely not for him.

His moves were calculated, but so tender-hearted and light. He twirled you around again and kept you close to his chest, one hand on your waist and another one guiding your other hand. At this point, you weren't even worried about making the wrong turn or stepping your foot on his. No, no, it was like your body was no longer your own, but knew perfectly which steps to take and you were glad for that.

In your mind, you imagined dancing like this with Kylo in the middle of a royal ballroom, but it was only you two. With or without music, it didn't matter, you and Kylo were too busy staring at each other's eyes to notice any background sound.

You had no idea how long you two had been dancing, but it ended so quickly.

"May I ask you something?" He asked in a strange, low voice.

"Of course, anything." You stepped a bit away from him once the dance came to an end.

Kylo traced lines alongside your hand, back and forth, and another hand came to meet your cheek as he slowly caressed it.

"Will you marry me?"

Oh dear stars.

Everything stopped around you, at least that's what you felt. You didn't even know what to say or do. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally showing you your destiny. That you were worthy of something just like Rey is.

The king of Alderaan had just asked you to marry him, and there was only one answer available to your heart.

You laughed and smile, nodding in happiness, "Yes!"

The ballroom was still full, everybody seemed to be having a great time just like you. Palpatine was nowhere to be seen, but Rey was seen talking to Duke Pryde and some others you assumed were also trading partners. Poor thing, a part of you felt guilty she had to spend her party talking to them. She didn't look happy. But maybe the news you're about to give her will make it up. That's what you hoped for.

Moving through the crowd as you held Kylo's hand had already got you lots of side-eyes and surprised gasps and whispers. This will entertain them for a very long time, and you didn't even try to hide your smile. Why would you? You're the most happy person in this room right now, and you were not going to hide your emotions again.

"Rey! I mean, your Majesty, may I speak to you, please?"

She nodded, excusing herself from the boring companies, and followed you to a more empty space of the room.

"I, I mean, we'd like to ask for your blessing on," You and Kylo looked at each other for a brief moment, "on our marriage!"

Rey almost chocked on her drink and quickly put it down on a table.

"Ma,Marriage?" You nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm quite confused here."

"Well, I know it's a bit of a sudden, and we haven't planned the ceremony, but it could happen here! Just like mother and father's wedding." You chuckled innocently at the thought of it.

"If Your Majesty doesn't mind it, of course." At this comment, that you didn't spare a thought, Rey furrowed her brows at Kylo in a angry stance and dismissed him completely.

"We could invite everyone in the kingdom! We could get so many songs to play and the decoration, oh I'll need to talk with Yvir." You put your hands on your hips, going through a mental list of preparatives for the wedding. You couldn't wait to tell Yvir.

"(Y/N)-"

"Oh stars, I hope you don't mind if Kylo stays here until the wedding! I'll need a few days to plan everything-"

"Absolutely not! (Y/N)!"

You stopped, her loud voice kicking all thoughts you previously had. Kylo, next to you, stared at her with indifference, like this somehow didn't even surprise him.

Rey inhaled calmly, "With all due respect, your Majesty, but my sister can't marry a man she just met."

"What? You can't decide that for me, Rey. I'm an adult, just like you." You crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed just like hers. Your sister's expression turned to a more uncomfortable one, and you had no idea why this was making her be like that.

"(Y/N), you're too young to know about love."

"And I suppose you know instead? All you ever did was shut everyone out. You shut me out."

All the eyes in the room were now on you three, this time not even a single whisper was heard. Even more silent than the gardens. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, moving her fingers repeatedly, a panicked gaze on her eyes.

"(Y/N)-"

"Just why, why do you do this? Why did you shut me out? What are you so afraid of?" Unlikely and unexpected, you screamed at her, only to regret it the moment that sentence left your mouth. But it was too late.

"That's enough, (Y/N)!"

A rash strong blow sent Kylo flying across the room. Hadn't it been for Kylo placing himself as a shield in front of you, you knew that was intended for you.

"That's the force." Somebody said.

"She's a Jedi!"

#sith translator #yes i used a #no i have no idea if it's star wars correct or not but it looks cool #aNyWaYs #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #general hux x reader #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #general hux

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