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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 17 all chapters

WARNINGS: THE MOST YANDERE CHAPTER OF THIS YANDERE FIC YET. POSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT. PLZ TAKE CARE. I LUV U ALL.😘

-In the haze between sleep and waking, you are vaguely aware of strong arms wrapped around you, a lean and long body spooned at your back. You feel warm, and safe, and by some signal of scent or touch or cosmic connection from your hindbrain, somehow you just know that it’s Mr. Wick who has you folded up in his embrace. How perfectly you fit, with the curve of your backside tucked against his hips, your legs tangled under the covers.

Your Half Asleep Brain is totally fine with this cozy arrangement. You don’t really remember how you got here, but maybe something for once actually went right.

You let yourself doze.

But then he shifts against you, (that inevitable male hardness poking against your backside), and you wake up a little more, your faculties returning to you as the dreamy curtain of slumber slips away. You start to remember what happened before—the chase, and the murder—and Awake Brain is suddenly not ok with your current arrangement at all.

Awake Brain is ready to freak the fuck out.

You stiffen in his arms, trying to sit up, but that inexorable grip tightens around you.

“Easy.”

You struggle, but he effortlessly pins you, wrapping a long leg around yours. Between his greater strength and solid weight pressing you down into the mattress, you are stuck.

“Let me go,” you growl.

“Not until we have a little talk.”

Under different circumstances this position could have been interesting. The hard line of his lean body is pressed against you…the length of him against the curve of your bottom.

At least someone is having a good time.

Even like this from behind, you can tell it’s something to be reckoned with. The thought fills you with an inconvenient bloom of heat, your body betraying you while skipping into the darkness with a song. Your own reaction to him almost makes you angrier than his own actions.

“What the fuck, John?” You strain against him again, naturally, to no avail. He doesn't taunt you, just holds you immobile, and you are a butterfly against a hurricane.

“Calm down.”

“Then let me go.”

You feel him breathe in the scent of your hair behind your ear, before releasing a shuddering sigh.

“We’re in a predicament, y/n.”

“No shit.”

“I think after what you saw...you know I can't let you go.”

Oh, what's a little quadruple homicide between friends?

You have the sense to keep this to yourself, at least.

“I won't say anything.”

“Uh huh.”

“I didn't say anything about the guys in the van.”

“Well, you didn't have any real evidence then. Just suspicion.”

“But...you so killed those guys in the van.”

There’s a long pause before he finally admits, “Yeah.”

You’re not sure why that makes you try to struggle again. It’s just as fruitless as before.

“Who were those guys you killed?”

You are met with silence. “In Venice?”

Jesus, do you actually have to clarify with this man?

“They were not nice people, y/n.”

“I gathered that. But... who were they?”

John sighs against you, and you take some heart as you feel his grip loosen slightly so he’s not absolutely crushing you. “They were enforcers for the Camorra crime syndicate.”

“And...why did they have such a problem with you?”

“Bad blood, from an old job I did in Rome.”

A job. You’ve seen enough movies to know what that means. He really was a hitman. Jesus H Christ.

“You thought they wouldn't want revenge, if you went back to Italy?”

“I had to risk it.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You’re baiting him, but you just can’t help it. You’re angry, and you’re sore, and he’s pinning you down like you’re just a feather and you do not fucking like it.

You feel him growl behind you, and fuck you if the low vibration does not strike some primal cord in your body, something left over from the time when your ancestors still lived in caves.

He moves so fast you have no chance to take advantage, turning you so that you are laying chest to chest. His erection presses into your hip, and he pins you with those beautiful dark eyes boring down into yours. It takes every iota of self-control you possess not to spread your legs so that he can settle into the cradle of your hips, where you fear he would fit so very well.

He traps your small hands above your head with just one of his, using the other to hold the side of your face, keeping your attention on him. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t, but you are finding you like it when he touches you like this, like he is your master and you are his pretty little doll to manipulate how he pleases.

Your eyes close, just for a moment, before you force yourself to keep them open. Keep your eye on the danger, a voice in your head tells you.

A less helpful voice suggests that you just give in and let him fuck you silly.

You ignore that one, for now.

“Because,” he grouses with a scowl. “I was afraid you’d meet some handsome dipshit your own age, and…move to fucking Argentina!”

You don’t know where you get the pluck to frown back up at him. This poor, dear, deranged man.

“John…”

Do you know how crazy you sound?

You don't dare say it out loud.

Maybe it would have been smart to try to win points by assuring him you were coming back to him. It was even 100 percent the truth at the time. But something spiteful in you doesn’t want to offer him that declaration now. You feel like he lost his right to it.

That laser-like stare shifts from your eyes to your mouth, a moment before descending to press his lips to yours. His lips are soft, but the kiss is nothing less than possessive. Even so, you have to fight not to let him lull you with his clever mouth and the tantalizing slide of his tongue.

A fresh wave of anger hits you, because you want this. You want him, and he could have had you so easily, without having to…what? Stalk you? Take you?

You realize you don't even know where you are.

All this accumulates in you in the matter of a second, and you express this frustration by clamping his lip between your teeth. It's more a warning, than anything. You do not draw blood, but you bite hard enough to make him pause.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” It’s almost funny, the way he sounds talking around his lip in your teeth. Yet somehow, he still manages to sound absolutely menacing.

“Or what?” you challenge. “Are you going to hurt me, John?”

Yes, taunt the man you saw kill four people easy as pouring a bowl of cereal.

“No. But I will punish you. Remember that, as we go forward.”

You let him go, thinking on that.

It makes a chill run down your spine.

He tries to kiss you again, but you turn your face away.

“Please let me up.”

He is silent and still as the mountain, for long enough that you don’t think he will. You imagine he’s weighing his options, and you know as well as he does that he holds all the cards in his oh-so-capable hands. He could finally take you, like this, and you couldn’t stop him. As fucked up as it is…you’re not even sure you wouldn’t enjoy it, and you battle with yourself not to squirm beneath him in this fucked up stew of fear, desire, and anticipation.

That will not help your cause, you know.

He surprises the hell out of you when finally he agrees, “I will, if you promise to be calm.”

“I’m cool as a fucking cucumber.”

He ducks to huff a laugh into the bend of your neck. You feel it stir your hair more than hear it. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse that makes you flush, a spear of longing jetting through you, and you barely manage not to wrap your legs around his narrow hips.

This man. It’s just not fucking fair.

Then he sucks, hard enough to hurt, and you know there will be a bruise.

He’s fucking marking you.

“I’m serious.”

You breathe in as deeply as you can with his solid, delicious weight piled on you, and let it out slow. “I’m good. Please, let me up.”

Though you can tell he’s reluctant to do it, very slowly he shifts his weight from you, rolling onto his back at your side. You sit up, pushing off the covers, and find the room is spinning slightly.

What the fuck did he drug you with?

You look around. The room is painted in dark shades, the ceiling vaulted high. Bookshelves take up the wall behind the bed. A bank of windows affords a view of the woods beyond. You are up high, the second story, at least.

You recognize these woods, and the feeling of this interior.

“Are we back in fucking Clear Forks?”

“Yes. We’re safe here.”

You blink down at him. He sounds almost reasonable now, and maybe the fact that he let you up makes you think you can reason with him.

“John…you have to let me go.”

“Can't.”

“You have to.”

He just shakes his head.

“So...what? You're going to keep me locked up here forever?”

He licks his lips, pressing them in thought as he choses his next words. “Until... we've reached an understanding. That might take a while.”

You stare down at him, open mouthed.

“John...you can't just keep me here.”

“I can, actually.” He just looks at you with his hands behind his head, resembling for all the world a lazy lion on the plain, deadly but at ease like it's not your entire life he's casually high jacking for his own gratification. Then strangely he looks away, as though he actually is embarrassed about something, letting out a slow breath. “And...I want to.”

“What?”

His gaze returns to yours, his glittering black eyes sharp and as obsidian. “I. Want. You. To stay here with me. I need you.”

God damn if hearing him say those words doesn't make your traitor of a heart go pitter pat pat.

Keeping your eyes on him as though you are in bed with a tiger, you slide off the edge, your legs jelly beneath you. How long have you been out? What did he drug you with? Your mouth is so dry. Maybe you should be grateful he didn’t hit you to knock you out, at least. That’s never so nice and neat as it is in the movies.

You're still wearing your same little pink sundress from Italy, which maybe is a little heartening, not that it provides much protection.

Your heart in your throat, you want to run mad circles around the room yelling, banging on the windows and rattling the doors. Instead you make yourself stay calm as you look around, checking your options, not caring if John is watching.

You don't care, because deep down, you already know it's hopeless. He's not a stupid man. You inspect the door, finding no door handle, no lock that could be picked. There is simply a keypad and what looks like a fingerprint scanner. You notice it is mounted high over your head, so it would be hard for you to access even if somehow you managed to render him unconscious.

You knock on the window with your fist, just for the hell of it.

“Ballistic grade, bullet proof. Good luck.”

He sounds so bored about it, like it's not a big deal that his armored glass stands between you and your freedom. Yet, you doubt the glass was originally for your benefit.

“Bulletproof, in case the Camorra come for you?”

“Them, or others. I’ve made a few enemies over the years.”

You’re not proud that this freaks you out a little.

“And you really think you’re safe here?”

“So far, so good…”

You glare at him over your shoulder, and damn him for looking utterly scrumptious while being such an asshole.

He's wearing a black henley and sweatpants, and he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. You could write sonnets about the little strip of pale flesh exposed between his hem and his waistband.

Despite how fit he is, you notice his tummy is just a little soft. It's endlessly endearing, and in different circumstances you would have delighted in pressing your lips to that line of dark hair, and pulling down his sweatpants with your teeth…

You realize you are staring, and with cheeks aflame you avert your gaze. You notice he’s smirking at you, and it makes you mad all over again, your fists clenching at your sides.

He seems to find this amusing as hell.

“You don’t have to look away,” he coaxes, surprisingly gentle. “I like it, that you like my body.”

You huff indignantly, inevitably remembering how adamantly he’d prevented you from undressing him, what feels like a lifetime ago now. “Then why wouldn’t you let me see you?”

“That was…different.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you were ready. I didn’t want to scare you.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “Gee, are your guns that big, Mr. Wick?”

This wins you a small laugh, and only belatedly do you realize how sick it is that you’re joking around with him again.

This is not normal. This is not normal. This is not normal.

You have a feeling it’s going to have to become your new mantra.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says enigmatically. It makes the hairs stand up all over your body, even as your idiotic nether regions clench with desire at the thought.

You have got to get out of here.

“Aren’t they going to think it’s weird I just disappeared without a trace from the hostel?” you pose.

“Probably not. You collected your things, and you paid in full.”

Of course he’d taken care of that.

Then the scope of this coup really dawns on you.

“You clever motherfucker. No one will even look for me here, because they think I'm in Europe for weeks more.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you.

“You have a filthy fucking mouth, my dear. I'd watch that, if I were you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but don't push your luck just yet.

“But no, no one will be looking for you. Your family and your friends are so busy...”

You close your eyes against his cruel—but perfectly accurate—words. My, how the truth cuts deep.

His tone softens as he tells you, “You don't need them, y/n. You have me. And I promise I'll take care of you.”

You don’t bother to argue again that you don’t need taking care of. You’re beginning to anticipate his answers, and it’s like arguing with a stone wall.

You’ll need a different tack, you think.

Agitated, you stalk to the next door in the room, flinging it open. It’s a walk-in closet, filled with his clothes, and you realize, clothes for you as well. They’re cute, and to your taste, the bright colors an almost comical contrast to his monochromatic wardrobe. But they’re more expensive than anything you can usually afford. They’re all your size.

Your heart sinks to your feet as you realize this means he’s actually been planning this for a while.

The next door is half cracked. You push it all the way open.

To say that it's a bathroom seems like an understatement. All dark marble and black cabinetry, there are two sinks and a long countertop, a walk-in rain shower that could fit 6, and a tub that could be mistaken for a small swimming pool. The corners are accented with lush houseplants, ferns and philodendron. It looks wonderful, and you’re furious all over again, because you can't fucking enjoy it like this.

“Why?” you spit, whirling. Only to start when you find him standing right there behind you. You didn't hear a thing. “Why did you have to do it this way?” With him standing so close, you find your words lose some of their intended venom.

He crowds you against the doorjamb, lifting a hand to your face again.

“Because I was afraid you wouldn't come back to me.”

This tall, powerful man sounds ridiculously vulnerable just then.

But like flipping a switch, he frowns, his long fingers resting lightly around your throat. A chill runs down your spine, and you're sure he can feel your pulse in your neck speeding against his fingers. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t hurt you. Just…holds you, and you are ever so aware that you are at his mercy.

“You ran away from me,” he accuses.

Maybe your sense of self-preservation is a little broken.

“I can't imagine why.” You punctuate it with an eyeroll, and suddenly you find yourself pushed into the wall with a hand spread over your chest, the ridges of the jamb biting into your spine. His thumb presses over your lips, preventing you from speaking further.

“That fucking mouth of yours.”

Before you can blink he is on you, pressing his lips to yours in a punishing kiss that leaves you weak in the knees. Maybe you start to slump down the wall, but he wraps you up in his arms, holding you up effortlessly.

“This is how it's going to be,” he pants, his forehead pressed to yours. You get the sense that he is on the verge of losing control, and you are on pins and needles, wanting to know what that would be like, and fearing it too.

You fear it a lot.

“You can run that sassy mouth of yours all you want, but I will enjoy disciplining you for it every time. You might want to start thinking before you speak.”

“You want to hurt me.”

Tears fill your eyes at the thought of it. Maybe you’re a little broken yourself, after seeing him kill people, but this is the thing that really makes you cry. Of course he probably has some kind of fucking red room around here filled with restraints and whips and toys you've never even fucking heard of…

“No, baby. I never want to hurt you.”

You don't believe him in the slightest.

With a big hand on your jaw he turns your face up to look at him. “Please don't cry.”

“Then don't do...whatever the fuck this is! You fucking kidnapped me, John!”

“I took what's mine,” he insists in a dark tone that makes inexplicable heat flood between your legs. “You forced my hand.”

It’s all your fault, of course.

“Did you really think I was just going to follow you after all that?”

He cants his head as he looks down at you, his dark hair swinging into his eyes. Your fingers itch to brush it away, and you hate the way the sight pangs deep in your chest. You shouldn’t feel anything for him, after what he’s done—your heart has not gotten the memo, it seems.

“You asked me not to let you go.”

Motherfucker took that literally, it seems.

The ironic thing is, you’d 300 percent meant what you said, at the time.

“I did not sign up for this,” you insist anyway.

“I’ve tried to warn you…since the moment we met,” he tells you. “But you just kept coming back. And now…I need you, y/n. I love you, and I’m never going to let you go.”

What a ridiculous creature you are, that hearing this moves you to the marrow of your bones, makes you almost sick with a medley of triumph and remorse, desire and fear. You’d so determinedly pried open the lid of this Pandora’s box with the dogged insistence of your affection; look at what a marvelous horror you unleashed. Mr. Wick: your very own monster made of dark need and twisted devotion.

This is all so…crazy.

Yet...he doesn't seem like he's crazy. Just absolutely, unmovingly, resolute in his conviction. And right now, that conviction involves his possession of you.

You close your eyes against his gaze boring a hole through you. Your voice barely lifts above a whisper, your strength suddenly sapped. “I could have loved you.”

It’s a lie, of course.

A lie, because you are already hopelessly, totally in love with this man, despite what he’s done to you, and despite everything you’ve seen him do.

You’ve seen the other side of his coin, you know how sweet and wonderful he can be. Where is that man when you need him? Once upon a time, he absolutely was your safe space, your protector, someone you could turn to when you truly had no one else.

Now, who would protect you, from him?

It breaks your heart, because you fear the answer is that no one can.

“You will love me, y/n,” he insists without a hint of doubt. To be so certain...of anything. He brushes your hair behind your ear with such tenderness you could weep.

A single tear does escape from the corner of your eye. He catches it on the pad of his finger, bringing it to his lips.

“It will be alright, y/n. I've got you.”

That is exactly what you're afraid of.

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere #yandere john wick #john wick fanfiction #bittersweet john wick imagine

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timothee-chalamets-girlfriend · 1 month

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Paul Atreides X Reader (Dune)

Part 4: Finding Fremen

Lady Jessica slowly returns to consciousness, her eyes fluttering. As they open, all she can see is smoke; smoke and sand. They had crashed in the desert and were in the middle of a sand dune. The ornithopter wouldn't be going anywhere. Jessica had a pounding headache, but that was the least of her concerns. She rubs her stomach gently before she unstraps herself and carefully moves forward, attending to her unconscious son. "Paul?" She says, tapping his cheek. A few drops of blood were running down his chin, presumably from him hardly biting his lip upon impact. His mother wipes the blood off of his mouth and chin with her sleeve, not caring about it staining her tan cloak red. Paul still did not move. He was breathing, however Jessica couldn't tell if he had any internal injuries. "Paul?" She tries again, lightly shaking him this time. Still nothing.

Paul Atreides may not be seeing what's real in this moment, but he was seeing.. something. His eyes may have been closed, yet he was seeing. In his mind, he saw a similar scene he had dreamed of before. Him battling against the Harkonnens, however, his father wasn't there this time. He had an entire army of people, but, not his father. Where did he get an army? And where was his father? In this vision, he was leading, he had control. But he wasn't ready for that, and hundreds of his men were being slaughtered because he couldn't protect them. That scared Paul. He knew he needed to find his father so this "dream" wouldn't end up happening. His father was the Duke, not him.

"Paul!" He finally hears a familiar voice saying, bringing him back to the present moment. Paul's eyes shoot open, and he inhales sharply out of pain and fear. He ends up inhaling more smoke and sand than actual air, making him cough. Jessica sighs in relief upon seeing her son awake, unstrapping him carefully and pulling him in for a light embrace and burying her left hand in his hair. "Are you okay?" She asks after he had stopped coughing. Paul doesn't respond, instead he smacks his lips together as if tasting something, his brows furrowing. "What's wrong?" His mother looks at him, concerned. "It's.. sweet; the sand. Like, cinnamon?" Paul tells his mother. Jessica smiles, "it's spice." She says and slowly goes to stand, exiting the ravaged ship. Paul follows, feeling a little lightheaded when he stood, but he wasn't too bothered by it. He was really only worried about one thing in this moment: his father.

"We have to find father." Paul says determinedly. While he had no idea where to begin looking as he didn't even know where they were, he needed to find him, and he would. "Paul.." his mother starts, she already knew Leto's outcome. "No! Let's go, now." Paul turns and begins to walk down the dune. "PAUL! STOP!" Jessica yells. "We don't know where we are! We could be in worm territory! You can't just walk blindly into the desert!" She tells him sternly. "It doesn't matter! Father is out there, he could be alive! We can find him! I know he's-" Paul stops when his mother gives him a sad look. "Paul.. he could have been thrown miles away. We don't have the time nor the supplies to search the entire desert. Even if he did somehow survive the fall, he wouldn't last long with Shai-Hulud out there." Jessica tells him the hard truth. Paul shakes his head in refusal to believe his mother, sitting down in the sand and burying his face in his hands.

Paul, angry, digs his fingers into the sand and grabs a handful of it; or rather, of the spice. He crushes it in his hand before attempting to throw it, the wind blowing it back in his face. He goes to rub it out of his eyes when his eye vision starts to change into something rather than darkness. Beneath his eyes, he sees people; people he didn't know, yet seemed familiar. People in the desert, surrounded by nothing but it, as he and his mother were right now. He saw himself. They were staring at him with their sharp blue eyes, simply observing him as he stood in front of them. They also had a plug in their nostrils, and they wore these odd looking suits. Paul sits deeper into the sand and falls more into this vision, trying to put the pieces together. He's seen this stuff before, not in person, but yet he knew what it was. Maybe it was all the film books he studied. These people he was seeing, matched the description of what Fremen did in his books. They were Fremen, he knew it. But something was off. Why was he with them? Why weren't they killing him? And why were some.. bowing down to him?

That's when it hit him. He was never supposed to come to this planet for the Harkonnens, or even for his father, he's here for the Fremen. He needed to accept that his father was gone, and he was the new Duke. But he wasn't the Duke of Caladan, that didn't seem right. No, he was the Duke of Arrakis. He was here for the Fremen, to fight with them, to learn their ways, to protect them, and maybe even to become one himself. This is what his studies were for all along. They had been important, as he had predicted. There was an unclear part of this vision, though. There were only fragments, but he could somewhat see a girl. A Fremen girl. She was beautiful. And something about her was different than the others. He wanted to find out more, he needed to find the Fremen.

Paul's eyes open and his vision returns to reality. The first thing he sees is his mother kneeled down in front of him. "Paul, are you okay? You were out of it for a few seconds. You weren't even responding to me. Is it the spice?" Jessica asks with her worried motherly tone. "No, I'm fine." Paul responds, standing. "I know where we need to go." He said. "We can't go anywhere, Paul. We'll just have to wait for Gurney to rescue us." Jessica tries to tell her son, but he shakes his head. "We'll be eaten alive by then. We have to find the Fremen, they're our only chance at survival. Not only that, but I think we were always meant to find them." Paul says, looking into the setting sun. "You can't know that- plus we have nowhere to begin looking. It could take us days, and we'll be dead from dehydration by then." His mother tries to reason with him. Paul, being stubborn, rolls his eyes and says, "just believe me, please. I have an idea on where they are. I know how to sand walk, I'll teach you that as well." He wasn't changing his mind. "You're going to get us both killed, Paul." Jessica tries one last time, but she knew she should trust him, even if it went against her own wishes. They didn't have much to lose at the moment, after all. Maybe the Fremen could help them until they can get back to the Palace, she hoped. "Follow me," Paul said and began to lead his mother to the Fremen.

Quickly showing his mother how he believed sand walking was done, Paul and Jessica slide their way through the desert. The sun was getting low, so they had to be extra cautious on where they stepped foot as it was getting darker. Soon enough, they had been sand walking a long way and the sun was completely gone, blackness filled the desert. "Should we make camp?" Jessica asks, grabbing the tent from the emergency bag that was kept in the ornithopter. Paul looks around until he spots a place by some rocks that they would be somewhat sheltered in. Mother and son sand walk to the rocks and set up the tent, sitting inside it with their legs crossed. Jessica lets out a small grunt, placing a hand on her abdomen. "What's wrong?" Paul asks, noticing the discomfort in his mother's face. "Just hungry," she replies, which was true. Neither Paul or Jessica had eaten or drank anything since the early morning, and they had had a rough day to say the least. Paul's throat and lips were dry from dehydration, and that didn't help his headache either, but he knew he'd have to force his body to go without food or water just a little longer. For now, he just wanted to sleep.

The two rise as soon as the sun peaks just above the horizon. They wanted to sleep longer, and they definitely could've as both were still exhausted. However, they couldn't stay here in the middle of the deserts' heat without proper wear or supplies. They packed up and kept moving. About an hour of continuing to sand walk passes before Paul suddenly stops in his tracks. "What is it?" His mother asks, stopping behind him. The sand beneath them started to vibrate, and Paul could hear sand breaking in the distance; it sounded as if a tsunami was coming, instead it was sand. But it wasn't just sand. Sand doesn't make a tsunami on its own. "Did you break your rhythm?" He asks his mother through gritted teeth. "I.. don't think so?" Jessica replies, equally as alarmed. "Well.. if we weren't in worm territory earlier, we are now." Paul said, looking behind him. A large sand worm was in direct pursuit of them.

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #dune part two #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #timothee #timothee chalamet #science fiction #action #drama #adventure

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kanmom51 · 10 months

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This needs to stop

I really contemplated if to put these words down, but I am so angry and disappointed and sad at this point that I felt I had to vent.

Disappointed. I think that's the key word for what I am feeling right now.

I understand that people are upset/angry/enraged by the shit that followed JM's release of his first solo album Face. I understand because I am enraged as well.

I have no doubt in my mind that he was wronged.

He succeeded beyond anyone's dreams and probably kind of ruined certain dreams some of these people had of their own.

But to take that anger and to turn it on the one person that supported and supports JM beyond any of us is infuriating to me.

Turning on JK?

Because of what? A shithead called Scooter Braun, who has his own personal agenda and history shows us has zero real interest or care in the actual artists he is pushing?

Do people forget who JK is?

Do they need a reminder course here?

I guess I will have to give them one.

JK is JM's favourite person in the whole world.

And a full masterlist to show it:

JK is JM's number 1 fan and showing it to us whenever he just can, with or without the company's permission.

JK is one of the most artistic and creative people there are.

Suga about JK

And maybe read what one of the stylists working on the Seven concept had to say about JK and the concept.

JK's concept. He came ready to the table. He knew what he wanted to show, what message he wanted to send.

He was given option, other concepts, other ideas, and he chose what he chose.

JK didn't steal JM's ideas. He didn't utilize them for the lack of coming up with original ideas of his own. Don't believe me, believe JK's talent, his artistry.

JK CHOSE this. This is what he wanted us to see.

It's not about copying. It's about showing us who inspires him.

It's about showing us, not only telling us, who his catalyst is.

He CHOSE the EXACT same leather pants that JM wore.

Do you see the scribble at the bottom of the jeans?

JK CHOSE the jeans with the mud.

He CHOSE.

He did not copy or plagiarize.

He took artistic liberty to mirror JM's photoshoot to an extent.

Sending us all I'd say more than one message.

First one is what I mentioned above. JM is his inspiration.

Second is connecting himself to JM, to Face, to Like crazy.

Perhaps his way of showing us he's that person that stood by JM's side when he was struggling. The one that tread mud with him. The one that tried to wake him up, save him, but JM wasn't ready for that just yet at the time. The one that let JM embrace him while trying to escape reality.

And instead of seeing what JK is trying to tell us, his fans, Jikookers as well, are turning on him?

Making JK out to be someone that doesn't have an original idea and goes and steals JM's is disrespectful to both JK and JM, btw.

This coming from people that supposedly love and know JM and JK?

JM is a 27 strong willed young man. And evidently, JM has no issues with JK of late.

JK is a 25 yo creative artistic young man, who adores and admires and lives for JM, and would NEVER steal something from JM, never take something of JM's and pass it on as his own.

Do they not understand that JM is joking when he calls JK his copycat? Has been for years now.

Did they not see the joy and love in his eyes when JK said "I'm hyung's copycat"?

He knows that JK looks up to him.

He knows that JK is inspired by him.

He lives for that.

And to go and to make it into something ugly it's just so infuriating.

JM was wronged. We can agree on that. The COMPANY could have and should have done better.

THE COMPANY.

Not the other members.

Not JK.

I get the anger and frustration. But do we take it out on the one person that did right by JM? Do we take it out on the one person JM loves more than anything? The person that JM will stand by and support and root for to succeed? How is that loving JM?

Since when did two wrongs make a right?

Don't go around saying you won't support JK's single.

Support him all while continuing to support JM's songs.

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #Jungkook #Jk #JK Seven #Jimin #JM #JM Face

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orlaogden · 6 months

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Mchart week: The Road Trip

They are both unusually quiet in the morning. As if they are afraid to break the peaceful silence and ruin everything, so they let their bodies speak for their tongues. Kurt fries bacon and eggs, Diane warms up bagels and makes coffee.

A light brush of hands, short timid smiles. She adverts her eyes, and he feels a sudden pang in the chest. His arms snake around her waist, he just can't help it, his lips kiss the side of her head above the right ear. Despite the short glimpse of sadness he felt radiating from her just a moment ago, she leans in his embrace readily, caresses his back, kisses his shoulder. They're bathing in morning sunlight, in the warmth of their embrace and in the smell of the coffee.

"Kurt. Let's get away from the city for a while?" Diane blurts out.

"You mean, go to the country?"

"No... Go on a trip. Spend some time in nature." She knows he would love it. She knows that she will enjoy it too and they need it.

Kurt's eyebrows go up. Diane and nature: a beautiful combination but a rare one.

"Why?"

"To make a room," she pauses and finds his left hand with hers. "To clear more space for... love. Just be simply Diane and Kurt for a while."

Kurt is almost ready to laugh. He thinks that he is always himself and that being in love with her is his default state of being. But he gets it, so he just squeezes her hand and kisses her cheek instead.

"Do you have something particular in mind?"

"Nope. We can make arrangements today and go tomorrow."

"It's a deal then." He smiles into her hair.

The silence between them sparks with anticipation of something exciting as they eat.

***

Eventually they decide to go to Starved Rock. It's not too far from Chicago and it's beautiful.

Kurt's driving the car. Lyle Lovett doesn't provoke a sudden wave of longing anymore. The car doesn't reek of incense. Everything falls right into place. They're not going to meditate, they're going to walk and see the waterfalls, although Diane doesn't even mind watching him fishing for the whole day, breathing in the fresh air and the closeness of the most important person in her life she missed so much and desperately tried to forget in the fear of no future.

"You know what. We should try an axe throwing next."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll show you my moves." She adds with a cheeky smile.

"I always thought it's a pity that you had got over it before we could try it together."

"Maybe you'll find that the axes are actually hotter than guns."

"I know for sure that you'd look hot as hell with an axe. As for the technical side… Maybe I am a simple guy, but I like complicated things, you know."

"Oh, I know. You wouldn't marry me if you haven't." Diane sighs. "There are actually so many things we haven't tried doing together…"

The majority of the trip they discuss their plans for future activities they want to try, building a bridge to their life together in DC. Diane thinks that maybe her cowboy is not an artsy person but he sure knows how to have fun and make her feel warm inside.

The playful talk only dies out when they stop at a parking lot near a gas station to buy some coffee. Somehow coffee gets forgotten pretty quick as they indulge in a not exactly silent make out session.

***

“There is something humbling about the ancient rocks. We try to be important, be heroes, make a difference, while they’re just standing here and will outlive us all…”

“You’ll be able to make a difference again when you’re back in a courtroom. Real difference for real people.”

And you will feel better, his tender green eyes tell her. She already feels better. The earth, the rustle of leaves, water and his steady presence ground her. Baby steps are not so frustrating anymore. Finally she knows what she needs to do: go back to what she does best. Leading a law firm, fighting for clients she actually cares about. Finally she doesn’t feel so painfully alone.

She looks down at the calm water surface and muses.

This is crazy how you start to think that a person you have mutual interests with understands you on a truly deep level, seeking his advice because you feel like drowning, only to realize later that he doesn't know you at all. And it makes sense, because he really doesn't.

And this is crazy how a person, you have so little in common with on a surface level, gets you better than anyone else in the world. It doesn't make sense at all, but it feels so right when you don't overthink it.

***

"Ouch!" Diane stumbles and almost falls but Kurt's strong hand supports her in time.

"Are you alright, hon?" he asks gently caressing her side. Diane takes a deep breath trying to not lean too much onto him.

"I think I've twisted my ankle. I'll be alright in a minute."

"You need to sit down and rest for a bit…" Kurt looks around trying to find something suitable. Sadly, they are out in the wild and there are no benches. "What do you think about this nice looking rock?"

Kurt helps Diane to reach the big flat rock he spotted and sit down. Then he takes three steps back, checks her out affectionately and pulls the smartphone out of his pocket.

"You look like a princess who got lost in the woods."

"Yeah, seventy years old princess in leather pants", Diane answers sarcastically.

"Princess SexyPantsass", Kurt says lightheartedly and gets a perfect shot of her laughing. This will be a nice addition to his growing collections of Diane's photos.

When Kurt helps Diane to stand up again, his stomach grumbles loudly.

"I think we should head to the picnic area. Maybe this place has a dark history, but I don't want my galant knight to starve!"

***

Kurt gives Diane a plate with a hot aromatic grilled cheese sandwich and two sausages on the side while she spoonfeeds him a pasta salad she made this morning. He feeds her grapes. She wipes her hands with a napkin and pats his knee. They clunk two beers and toast their trip. The silence they've immersed into now is comforting in all its cozyness.

A gust of wind ruffles Kurt's hair, and Diane's fingertips tingle. He is relaxed, almost serene. He looks at her with such tenderness that her lips start tingling too. She brushes breadcrumbs from his mustache, lightly touching the upper lip with her pinkie. He smiles and kisses her fingers. She can't restrain herself anymore. One hand goes up his cheek and disappears in the thick silver hair. The other hand goes up his chest, then his neck. And they are kissing, and kissing, and kissing. Bottles fall clinking against each other. Diane silently prays for the bottles to be empty, but when they end the kiss she looks only at him.

"Now I'm starved for something else", Kurt breathlessly murmurs in her ear, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. Diane is half turned on, half hyper-aware that they're in a public space.

"I'm afraid we have to starve for this much longer, my love", she whispers, moving away from him. The look on his face when she says the last two words almost makes her cry.

“Thank you for coming back to me.” She literally breathes the sentence out. Her guilty look adds: Despite me hurting your feelings again and again.

It is both an apology for how she had left things and gratitude for him finally being here for her, not on the phone with a despicable organization, not somewhere else.

“Thank you for choosing us again.” Kurt answers simply, his voice is breaking in the middle.

Her brows form two slanting lines, her lips tremble. As though they both could go a different way. They almost did, but no, she couldn't, they couldn’t.

She just hugs him then. If she could melt into his soft flannel shirt, she would. His hands clutch so tightly on her back as if he is afraid she would disappear.

The next moment an angry kid passes them muttering something about "gross adults". They break their embrace and laugh, probably making the kid even angrier. The unexpressed thought makes them laugh even louder.

On the way back to the car they see a double rainbow.

"Everything is gonna be alright", Diane thinks. Kurt opens a car door for her. Going back home doesn't seem so depressing anymore.

_______________

The song in the edit: Love Will Keep Us Alive by Scorpions.

Thank you @rexlockhart for organizing such a wonderful fandom event! 💗💗💗

#the good fight #mchart #diane lockhart #kurt mcveigh #MchartWeek #diane x kurt #christine baranski #gary cole #the visual pun is half-intended :D #guess who hasn't written anything descriptive in ages #and yes i need a beta

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certaincollectionlandblog · 11 months

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Jack Russell with a tall SO

okay starting off Jack is what we like to call a 5'7" slice of heaven y'all

you make that man's face light up like a kid on Christmas that got a visit from the ole jolly fat man himself

he is constantly touching you in any way shape or form

when he sees you putting lotion on after a shower he just sits and watches, mesmerized by the scene in front of him

he is convinced that your long legs are the road that leads straight to heaven

birthday, christmas, anniversary, etc. Jack is constantly begging you to wear heels when y'all go out because seeing you embrace your Amazon like stature has him feeling things

he loves to wrap his arms around your waist and even if his head can't rest on your shoulders he just buries his face in your back because let's be real this man's love language is totally touch

one of his favorite things is when he'll sit between your legs while y'all are watching a movie or show and you'll just wrap your legs around him a little like it makes his brain short circuit

his favorite position to have you in is missionary because he loves when you wrap your legs around him and make him feel like it's only you two in the world

he will purposely buy some oversized shirts so that you can steal them and wear them around the house

seeing you wear his clothes has this man ready to lock the door, unplug the phone, and break your back like a glow stick until people send out a search party because they haven't heard from you

if Jack is ever driving don't wear shorts because he will be too distracted to focus on the road and y'all won't ever get anywhere

he must admit if there is one thing that he doesn't like about your long legs it's that you always end up with more blanket than him, but it also gives him a great excuse to just snuggle right up to you

can not get enough of you wearing shorts or short skirts, that is a one way ticket to boner town right there my friend

let's just say that y'all went to the beach for a week once and he barely let you out of the room because his self control went straight out the window when he saw you in those bikinis

whenever he goes down on you he makes sure to kiss all the way up your legs because this man appreciates and is the king of foreplay

Jack is an ass man no doubt about that my friend

he will always be finding ways to have a hand on your ass regardless of where you are unless it's in public of course

we all know that Jack has a major breeding kink and don't even get him started because he just can't wait to "start his own little basketball team" with you

#jack russell x reader #werewolf by night #gael garcia bernal #jack russel x reader #jack Russell smut #jack Russell blurb #jack Russell Drabble #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel

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rhas-writes · 2 years

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Being Human - Scaramouche x Reader

Part of my Fallen Archon! Reader thoughts. But can be read as standalone.

Spoilers! for Scaramouche backstory/lore.

Content? Fluff, slight angst, friends reuniting. Format? Imagine/Drabble. Pronouns? You/Your. Relationship? Platonic but Scara might have a crush??

Context: Reader is a fallen archon but shhh Scara doesn't know.

---

"Of all the things in this world, I hoped for something better for you."

Anger blazes in violet eyes. How dare you say that to him, the 6th Fatui Harbinger, the Balladeer, the Destroyer of Countries. How dare you look down upon him with pity. How dare- No, it's not pity. Scaramouche stares harder, long-forgotten memories resurfacing...

The people of Tatarasuna have surely gotten their fill of excitement for years to come. Having not one but two eccentric wanderers grace their villages in the past months.

Wandering is probably the only thing the two beings have in common. One is still new to the world, like a babe fresh out of the womb. The other is incredibly knowledgable, helping ease the miners' way of life in the ways they can.

Though completely different, the wanderers stick together.

"Teach me about humans, I would like to be like you." He's seen the soft looks the villagers give you. How their bodies perk up at your appearance. He's felt a warmth in his hollow chest when you comb through his long hair. He wants to know what it means, he wants to experience more of it.

You stare at a pale face and innocent eyes, all unmarred by life. He will face a world of hurt when he realizes his past. Who knows where each of you will be when he learns, but you're here now.

Day and night you spend with him. Any questions he asks, you answer. All his curiosities placated by you, the villagers, or one of the many books you carry. In all that he learns, he finds you the most interesting thing of all.

You, who speaks about humans as if you aren't one. You, who is so bright in every way. You, who calls him beautiful but have you seen yourself? You are ethereal. You, who shows him drawings and paintings of other lands. Lands he wishes to see, preferably with you. You, who shines during the day but in the loneliness of night lets a cloud darken your eyes.

One night, both of you wake with a start. In the emptiness of your camp, you can only find comfort in each other. He cannot remember what he dreamt of, he tries to recall but is too distracted. He watches tears stream down your cheeks, holding your body trembling with fear. His chest aches as he realizes this is the first time he's seen you cry.

His time with you comes to an end sooner than he'd like. You're off to another nation, while he's not quite ready to leave home yet. He hates the negative feelings that comes with your goodbye. But if he has to suffer to feel the flutter in his chest when you laugh, the lift in his mood when you fix his hat from falling off, the happiness when he's with you, then so be it. Because that's being human.

"That scowl does not match your features at all. If you're going to kill me, then have at it. Otherwise, I'd appreciate a hug." You smile and he's taken aback.

It's so much more carefree than the one he remembers from all those years ago. He stays where he is, eyes unintentionally softening as he intensifies his scowl.

"I hope you're not upset with what I said earlier, I merely meant I wished for you to be happy."

"Happiness is for fools too brainless to have a real goal," Scaramouche snarls.

"Is that so? Well, now is not the time to debate philosophies. So will I be facing death or a hug from an old friend?"

His memory must be going because the person standing in front of him is an idiot. Still...the squeeze of his chest is hard to ignore when it's beginning to suffocate him. All the walls he's built is useless because he forgot you've been a part of him all this time.

He scans his surroundings, pleased to see none of his underlings are with him. In a few stiff motions, Scaramouche relaxes into your embrace. A warmth more satisfying than the fires in Snezhnaya envelopes him.

'I could still kill you,' he thinks but doesn't have the heart to say. Instead, he settles for something less threatening but still rude as he's not the innocent boy you once knew and what better way to demonstrate that than to say,

"You're lucky I'm giving an insufferable brat like you the time of day."

---

Thoughts? Critiques? Let me know!

Published: 12 July 2022

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin imagines #reader insert #sfw #fluff #angst #genshin harbingers #genshin scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin fanfic #genshin reader insert

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technovillain · 1 year

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I LOVE the aquatos' family dynamics theyre so juicy and interesting... Raz and Frazie's dynamic is an especially interesting one bc of all the implications like... the fact they used to play little psychic games together before frazie decided that was dangerous/childish... frazie girl you are 16(approx)

EXACTLY. The fact that Raz keeps encouraging her to admit her own psychic abilities and ensures her that it will be okay but she just can't believe him. And that he seemed surprised by that statement she made about the fact that they can't do psychic stuff together anymore because that was something they did when they were 'kids'.... like girl what happened to you!!!

I really like the dynamic between the children and parents of the Aquato family too bc its like. So many people will try to demonize Donatella or Augustus and it's like...have you even played the game and paid attention???? It perfectly captures that dynamic of like. Engrained systemic fear stemming from family trauma. Raz and Frazie both gauged the possible outcome of them telling their parents that they were psychic based on the perceived connections of psychic=bad, therefore these actions make me a deviant and I will be punished and hated for expressing them. And despite Augustus's appearance in the Meat Circus, I know for a fact that Raz does not hate his father or even fear him. The way that he immediately ran to him when his real father appeared in his mind showed that he knew that his father would embrace him no matter the environment. The scary version of Augustus stems from a worst-case scenario.

I feel like everyone has those. "Bad" versions of people that we love that are locked away in our heads. We know they aren't real. We know that realistically, they would never act this way. It is obvious that Augustus is a kind and loving father and only wants his family to be safe. Nona is all that he has, and he has to take her at her word about the family curse. And when Augustus sees this version of himself in his son's mind, he can't help but see the fear that he has accidentally instilled in his son, and by extension all of his children. But you know what he doesn't do? Take it as a personal attack and get mad at Raz. Instead he gives him all the power he can to help him and the Coach overcome this obstacle. Essentially by giving him his power, he is showing Raz that he would help him and love and support him no matter what, and that they are the same. And that's where that shift starts with his feelings about psychic powers.

But even with her dad now being psychic-friendly and even embracing his own powers, Frazie still can't get past that family guilt. Because she hears it from Nona, she hears it from Dion, from Donatella. She never got her own little runaway mission of glory, her own community of psychic peers. And while Raz was gone, he caused so much anxiety and stress for the family. Donatella's stress is obviously just connecting the dots between "things that make my family undergo stress" and "psychic powers" and she isn't wrong, but it isn't for the reasons that she expects. Frazie says at the end of her little conversation with Raz that she would consider joining the intern program, and I feel like that is the plot's way of telling us that she is almost ready to stop connecting those dots too, despite having more of that rhetoric put in her head than Raz over the events of the first game....I would love to see(/write?) more conversations that Raz and Frazie would have postgame....dunno man there's just so much POTENTIAL there with the Aquatos, you're so right!!!!

#i um....rambled a bit #ask #hcs #psychonauts 2 #.txt

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akechi-stole-my-heart · 1 year

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hi im in love with literally all your takes and opinions but ESPECIALLY the weird autistic yu being kind of an ass and gaining friends by accident. do you have any other headcanons about him i love this weird dude <3

I absolutely do!! I am a Souji kinnie so I have many opinions on this man and yes I am projecting but (1) I do not care and (2) I do not care.

In the manga (which I have not read yet but I want to) Souji has pretty absentee parents due to their work and he's been forced to move around a lot for them. Imo because of this (+ already being autistic) he's always had a really hard time making friends. He's always been something of a loner, drifting btween people and places without making strong connections because he doesn't know how to form them. By the time of Persona 4 he's kind of accepted his fate of being the odd one out who will float through this town and leave unchanged like he has his entire life.

Only he does make connections this time. Connections that matter. And that's terrifying, because now that Souji isn't alone, now that he knows what belonging feels like, he never wants to lose that again. He never ever wants to go back. Hence his Shadow in episode 26. (I fucking love his Shadow sooo much you don't understand.)

This is a self indulgent one, but I also headcanon that Souji has learned that to keep the fleeting attention of his parents and the people around him, he has to keep up his grades and generally be helpful and accommodating. He values himself on his performance and talents since that's the only way he could receive the attention and love from his parents he wanted so badly. He's not naturally a great student, but he works his ass off to get good grades and do well at school and work and life in general. Basically everything other than socializing and making real connections which he struggles with hardcore because of autism.

Souji has learned from experience that his deadpan statements can be really funny to people, so he leans into that bit of his autism in the hopes it'll get him more acceptance from his peers. It's been hit or miss his whole life since a lot of people are still put off from him and he's started self isolating and stopped actively reaching out, but he knows the deadpan humor usually works better than trying to mask and his friends in Inaba love it and think it makes him charming.

Souji adores children. I think this is obvious considering how many of his social links involve children. In my opinion this is partially him just liking hanging out with kids because they're easier than adults because of his autism, but also is in large part because he remembers feeling abandoned and unloved as a kid and he doesn't want any other kid feeling that way.

Souji is gay. Like, fully homosexual, no interest whatsoever in women. He's known this for a while but he doesn't really know what to do with it since he knows society isn't super cool with it, especially out here in the boonies compared to the city. He's never really cared personally but he starts to care a little once he makes connections and this fact about himself starts to matter. But seeing Kanji start to and struggle to accept himself encourages Souji to accept and embrace that part of himself too, and by the time of the festival he's at the point of "fuck it, I am who I am and people can take it or leave it" and he's confident that if he told his friends they would still accept him.

As for his relationship with Yosuke, I think it's kind of a slow burn thing. He has feelings for Yosuke pretty early on but he doesn't pursue them since he's not really aware of them at first, he just Really Likes his partner and staring at him when he smiles. They are both pining for each other for so long without realizing what's going on because Yosuke's so closeted and Souji's just autistically oblivious of himself.

They both realize what their feelings mean around the same time (when they beat each other up ofc) and Souji is immediately ready to ask Yosuke to be his boyfriend because he's already completely head over heels but he doesn't know if Yosuke is ready for that so he waits for Yosuke to confess first. Which soon enough he does and from that point on they're partners for life.

Souji really, really wants to believe in the goodness of humanity. Like, extremely so. He thinks everyone is redeemable and has a good reason for their actions. So Adachi is completely incomprehensible to him. That's how I read their link in Golden, as Souji desperately wanting to believe that Adachi can be saved and that he has a secret good reason for killing people. Souji wants to understand and save him like he did with his friends. But the truth Souji has to face is that Adachi just sucks. Sometimes people you really liked and connected with just plain old suck. Sometimes people do evil shit for no good reason. Souji really liked Adachi. I think he bought into Adachi's silly act wholeheartedly (because autism) and related to it. So when he finds out Adachi is just an asshole that's really hard for him to accept.

Okay this is way too fucking long but I do think I talked about most of it. Basically, I give Souji a bunch of (my) trauma. Because I love him. Baby boy <3

#if you're curious why I call him souji it's bc of several different reasons. I call the p3 and p5 protag's by their manga names #and I wanted it to remain consistent. I like how souji sounds and it's really confusing calling him 'yu' irl bc it sounds like 'you'#also his ship name with yosuke uses the souji name and it would annoy me to use yu but also souyo bc autism #sera answers #anon #souji seta #yu narukami #souyo

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sarangbe · 10 months

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𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒚…

𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒆, 𝒆𝒗𝒆. undisclosed date & time. 𝒕𝒍𝒅𝒓. sarang runs into his ex-boyfriend, alex, at the party.

although he walked away with the grand prize after "next gen" concluded, sarang has a hard time wrapping his head around his win. training hasn't begun yet, so for the time being, he's enjoying his last tastes of freedom before the real work gets started. having been a trainee once before, he knows that, no matter what company a person is in, they're putting in arduous efforts to improve. instruction is non-stop, breaks are minimal, and days off are rare. sure, there's one day per week—often a sunday—where no one is expected to do anything around headquarters, but many still choose to utilize the practice rooms for hours on end; never giving their bodies, minds, and souls time to recover from the week they endured.

it can be a gruesome process, especially for those who have a hard time "shutting down" when the day is done, so he's hoping that this party, and the days following, fulfill him enough so he can get through his first few weeks at sr media with no issues. he cares about this company more than he did his last, as bad as that sounds, and it's imperative that he continues leaving strong impressions on them.

though, for now, he's not wanting to get too wrapped up in the what-ifs and could-be's of the future, and he stands outside of ren's selected venue to give himself a final once-over; the front facing camera of his phone unveiling that his hair and makeup are still looking seamless. then again, it would be bizarre if they didn't. he finished getting ready roughly twenty minutes ago, and is arriving to the party fashionably late. luckily for him, however, people have come to expect that of him. yeom sarang doesn't show up early, or on time, rather, he pulls up an hour or more after the start time and makes a grand entrance, like he's cinderella at the ball and it's not even close to midnight yet. tonight is no exception.

the instant he walks through the door, he's greeted to a room full of familiar faces; all of which he beams at with a genuine warmth, as if he's the rare bit of sunshine that's still present despite the moon taking its place in the sky. sarang's generous with the embraces, and the kisses on the cheek, and the smiles, and of course the compliments. he stops at each person he's close to and showers them in his attention, even if just for a little while, and continues making his rounds. though, when his sights settle on someone extra familiar to him, he feels his heartbeat pick up its pace; his cheeks flushing immediately as he beholds alexander kim from across the room. sarang sighs, softly chiding himself for already falling prey to how cool he is, and how good he looks even in casual clothing.

he wants to approach him because, in truth, he's been missing him ( a lot ) lately, and being that they haven't spoken in awhile, he's curious to know how alex would feel about sharing the same space as him again. however, after thinking on it for a few milliseconds, he decides to break the ice; his exuberance taking over as he beelines toward him until they're face-to-face—the spark between them still existing, at least in sarang's point of view.

"hey!" he exclaims, allowing his brightness to outshine the insecurity and awkwardness that may arise. it's difficult not to reach out and touch him, and though he considers not doing, he decides to lean into him anyway—really craving a hug from him. he always loved being caught up between alex's biceps; their strength and firmness making him feel so safe. "can i give you a hug?"

#ㅤ* ╱ 염사랑. ━━━━ ALEX.#ㅤ* ╱ 염사랑. ━━━━ 625.

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eriexplosion · 1 year

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Idk how to copy paste emoji on phone very well but Happy, Angsty, Shippy and Family for Echo Badbatch and Athelstan Vikings bc I am, nothing if not Predictable. Also Crosshair bc ilu 💜

*Rubs my gay little hands together* Hope you're ready to read because I am not joking when I say all this came out to over 1500 words.

Echo first, our beloved sad bby.

🟡 - Happy

99 Always watched over their batch from the very beginning and probably the first real memory they have of an ori'vod paying specific attention to them was 99 stopping what he was doing to check on them after a hard training session. It was right after they got their name, when they still very much did not appreciate it, and the best way they could think of to protest was to go to the opposite end and just completely clam up. Can't be an Echo if you just don't talk. 99 aas the one to check on them all crammed up in a tiny corner and he coaxed them out and got them talking again - when he talked, he made it seem okay to be an Echo, and that was a first step to embracing the name their batch gave them, even if it still took some time to completely accept it.

...This came out more bittersweet than fully happy but. I TRIED.

🔴 - Angsty/Sad

Rex had to be the one to bring Fives up to them after they were rescued. Not because they weren't thinking about him, they were, ever since they came out of the fridge and saw that he wasn't there to greet them. But they knew Fives wouldn't have EVER passed up the chance to save them, so... if he isn't here, they already know why. It'll be painful to find out how he died, they know he's dead, and they're already in so much pain as it is both emotionally and physically that they've been terrified to bring it up. Rex knows what they're doing, so he lets it go for a little while but he can't let them leave with the batch without having this conversation, which is just as painful as they both expected it to be.

🟣 - Romantic/Sexual/Shippy

Echo is SO so shy when it comes to romance, especially coming into the Batch. They're the New person and very much coming in on a highly established team with longstanding relationships between them, and they didn't come in with expectations of ever being anything but the outsider. They are in fact SO resigned to always being the outsider that they do not notice they're being flirted with for several weeks. Tech is the first one to give up on subtlety and just ask them if they're interested in being more than Squadmates.

👪 - Family

Echo, as a reg, has the best relationship with the vode in general. Where the batch is super reluctant to intermingle due to the general tensions that have managed to root in between them and the regs, to Echo they're still very much important Family. And so they take it super personally when things keep erupting into food fight violence. They really thought they'd have more time to try to work on getting everyone to get along.

Unfortunately, instead, Order 66 happened. And now not even their batch family is together anymore. This is just going to make them more desperate though to make everyone get along as they meet up with more vode, though, because goddamnit there are not enough clones left to be fighting like this.

Crosshair next to keep the Batch babes together:

🟡 - Happy

He's actually in a good mood much more often than most people would assume, he just doesn't show it in ways that anyone outside of his batch would notice. Happy Crosshair tends to sit closer to people, sometimes lean his whole weight on them, it's like having a cat really. People that aren't used to it tend to think he's trying to aggressively get in their space to prove a point, which is what Echo thought at first when he started planting himself directly in their way all the time until they actually got to know him more.

🔴 - Angsty/Sad

Do I dare do the Lula headcanon? Do I? I think I do.

Lula wasn't always just the name of a stuffed toy. Once, a few regs got their hands on a tooka that they brought back to Kamino for the cadets to take a look at, since the kids don't get off planet except for the occasional starship tour bringing back small animals is always a huge hit for the children.

Wrecker managed to get his hands on the little tooka and brought it back to their room, named her Lula, and absolutely adored the little creature just as much as he loves his Lula now. It's adorable. But this is a Crosshair headcanon, so where does he come in?

Well, the kaminoans didn't think much of the distraction of a pet, but they let Wrecker keep it for a short while because they saw potential for a test. She turns up missing Wrecker is losing his entire mind, and in the middle of it all Crosshair gets called in for a solo test. There's just one target, and the real test isn't if he can hit her it's if he'll do what he's told even though it will destroy Wrecker. He does, but not because of any real will to follow orders, he just knows it will be worse for them if he doesn't. He makes the replacement Lula to try to make up for it - it's not the same, but it's all he can do. (If this sounds similar to my Twelve Seconds fic it's because I imagine they did this to him multiple times with increasingly brutal targets to make sure he actually would shoot anything he was directed to before putting the batch out in the field.)

🟣 - Romantic/Sexual/Shippy

He probably gets the most hookups outside of the batch and literally no one knows HOW he manages this, because it's not his pleasant demeanor. Hitting on people usually takes the form of antagonizing them and seeing if they smack him or make out with him first and somehow people keep taking the second one.

He also tends to mood drop after them, but still won't recognize that this probably means there's something he's not getting out of it (like actual companionship) and so he comes back upset half the time to lay down with one of them and Radiate Sadness. Usually Wrecker, because he has the most Comforting presence and they've been together the longest by FAR.

👪 - Family

It is pretty much his only priority at all actually. There is a reason he takes it SO hard when he thinks they've abandoned him and it's because he has genuinely not at any point bothered to find anything else to live for. (And the reason he's still going at this point is that he does hope that they'll push back against his attitude and just make him come home so he can save face by not having been the one to give in first.)

Also the softest part of his brain really envies the life Cut and his family have, far away from fighting, but he tries not to listen to that part of himself because he's 1000% sure that kind of life is not for them.

And SOFT BOY ATHELSTAN:

🟡 - Happy

Athelstan keeps all of his journals as they fill up, so that he can look back on them and reflect. This means that he ends up with dozens of these, and he can open any of them to a random page and easily guess when he did it just by what he finds there. Even if it's just a sketch, how he draws the world and people around him changes as he shifts from being afraid to truly feeling like he belongs.

This means he can go back and usually pinpoint right around where he started to fall in love with someone, because he can see it in how his art of them changes.

🔴 - Angsty/Sad

Even years down the line he still has nightmares about his dead brothers. He's tried to move on from it and make peace and in many ways he has, but the nightmares haven't gone anywhere. Sometimes he thinks he's forgotten his brothers faces but then the bad dreams make it very much apparent that he hasn't.

These are also the only dreams that Ragnar can't help much with, which drives him insane because Ragnar HATES to think there's anything he can't fix. But this is one of them.

🟣 - Romantic/Sexual/Shippy

His favorite way to wake up is kisses, so he gets them every morning now from SOMEONE. Usually Ragnar or Floki will get him up this way but if they're not available metamours will do it (Helga especially loves to give him an adorable kiss to the cheek and make him make a SQUEAK of surprise.)

Of course being in a partner's arms just makes it better, please hold him while he wakes up. (This also helps when he's been having bad dreams, which he has OFTEN. As long as they're not the above mentioned brother nightmares that is.)

👪 - Family

So obviously my headcanons and fic go off the rails sometime around season three but I adore Alfred too much to let him go just because of something as small as 'Athelstan isn't fucking Judith in this version' so therefore. Athelstan has baby Alfred with someone else, in this verse Helga. They're not Together as a couple, but they're close and Helga is happy to parent a child with him, once a polycule becomes Complex enough it's all just coparenting anyway.

Also they're precious together so sue me. He loves her, and whether it's romantic or not really doesn't matter to him, she's just important to him.

#Eri Answers #The Bad Batch #cloneshipping #Vikings #My Vikings headcanons become increasingly specific and more unhinged from canon but you know #we're having fun here #headcanon posts

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tabithacohen · 8 months

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INTRODUCTION

Wait is that (TABITHA COHEN) that I see off in the distance? You know they have quite the reputation of being the (WEIRDO) around the island, but to me they seem like any other (LOCAL). I hear you can often find the (36) year old hanging around (DRIFTWOOD SANDS) or catch them when they aren’t busy working as a (SCHOOL LIBRARIAN). They may seem (HELPFUL and ECCENTRIC) but I hear that they can also be (ANXIOUS and CLINGY). There may be a lot of faces here in the bay, but you’ll know who you’re dealing with if they remind you of (THE SMELL OF TEA WITH HONEY, CLOTHES WITH FUN PATTERNS, PLAYFUL ARGUING OVER TRIVIA, SECRET SMILES THAT PROMISE MORE) [bri, 30, she/her, est]

Name: Tabitha Anne Cohen

Nickname: Tabby, Tabby Cat, Miss Frizz, The Weirdo, Hot Librarian (she pretends she doesn't know about that one)

Gender/Pronouns: Cisfemale, she/her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Age: 36

Date of Birth: February 1, 1987

Place of Birth: Brooklyn, NY

Biography:

Tabitha was born as the oldest daughter to Ira and Barbara Cohen in Brooklyn. She is the oldest of three. She grew up in Brooklyn until she left for college.

She grew up in a large and loving Jewish family, celebrating holidays together. She also had a lot of friends from different cultures, so she was exposed to all different kinds of music and food.

Went to a SUNY in upstate New York for her undergrad. She majored in Education with minors in English and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies.

While she was there, she discovered her pansexuality, though at the time she called it bisexuality. She dated around and had fun but never had anything very serious.

For her Masters in Library and Information Studies, she went to the University of North Carolina. She had family who lived in the state, and was able to live with them during her program.

After she graduated, she got a job as an elementary school librarian back in New York, where she worked for 5 years.

It was there she met a boy and they dated for 3 of those years. Tabby was in love with him, ready to make a real commitment but he was obviously not ready yet. She wasn't willing to take on the role of someone's mother so she dumped him and moved to get a fresh start.

She moved to California, trying to go as far away as possible. She got a job in a Los Angeles high school, ready to enjoy the sun. She worked there for 6 years, enjoying herself immensely. She headed the school's DnD club, taking on the role of Dungeon Master for several students.

Tabitha met a women there, getting engaged after a year of bliss. But as they were planning the wedding, the truth started to come out. Lies about money, lies about plans, it seemed that her fiancee wanted to get married sure, just not to Tabitha. So, after a few long talks and attempts at counseling, Tabitha broke the engagement and left again.

This time she ended up back in North Carolina, getting a job as the school librarian in Celestial Bay. She's ready for another great year of introducing her students to fantastic worlds and interesting concepts, while fully embracing her own quirky self.

Personality:

Above all else, Tabitha is a nerd. She loves Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, mythology, robots, Dungeons and Dragons. Her favorite past time is to read and it shows. She always either has a book or her Kindle in her bag.

She can be a little awkward and shy about meeting new people, so she'll often blurt out random fun facts to ease the way.

She's absolutely the kind of person to go above and beyond for a friend. She's in her thirties, she doesn't have time for wishy-washy people. If you want her in your life, you got her.

She enjoys wearing fun or silly patterned clothing to work, trying to make the kids smile.

She has a tortoiseshell cat named Mokey (after the character from Fraggle Rock).

She experimented in the BDSM scene in LA and enjoyed playing around with multiple partners and scenes.

She's not looking for love, but 3rd time's the charm, and she's certainly a bit of an old fashioned romantic.

Her favorite thing to do at the end of a long day is curl up with her cat and a cup of tea to either watch an old movie or read a mystery novel.

#cbintro #biography

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bubbah26 · 2 years

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I am SHAAAAKING in anger right now...like wtf was that episode. It doesn't make sense, none of it. I know we still have 3 episodes left BUT, episode 13 felt like such a slap in the face.

The miscommunication between jun-ho and youngwoo. It was just...left.

The forced 'blossoming relationship' between su-yeon and minwoo (which I REBUKE,my queen deserves better)

Don't even get me started on my king attorney Jung, I hate that they're putting him through pain.

Get ready, cause this is me ranting and it's gonna be long!

Junho and Youngwoo

Clearly, Junho was still a little upset at Youngwoo because of the whole 'we never said we were dating so we're not dating' convo that happened in ep 12, and I was full on expecting them to hash it out and come to some kind of resolve,but that just didn't happen. Instead we were slapped with a 2 second mention of what happened and then Youngwoo got hit with an inlaw meet up, like wtf. I had to replay the scene again just in case I missed anything. I would say that he is still just in love with her as ever, but something about they're relationship feels strange now, and there is soooo much that doesn't make sense like, Junho is such a great guy, and through the first half of this show I kept thinking 'wow, so he comes from a family that accepts people for who they are and are non-judgemental, how brilliant' and then we meet his sister, who passes judgement and prejudice, she didn't even get to know Youngwoo properly, she just took one look at her and already had it in her mind that she couldn't make junho happy. And that thing she said about how their parents would faint if they found out about her,it had my heart squeezing with anxiety and sadness and I felt soooo bad for our Youngwoo. I am still trying to be optimistic about our whale couple, and I get that there will be challenges in this relationship like the writer said there will be, but with only 3 episodes left, I don't know how things are gonna turn out, especially when they had the chance (multiple chances) to clear the air this episode and blatantly chose not too.

2. Choi Suyeon and Kwon Minwoo romance plot

NO!! ok NOOOO!!! Look, that moment he had with his surprised Pikachu face in ep 9 is something I can look past because let's be real, we all reacted the same way, even Youngwoo turned half lesbian when she saw her but this...this is just not ok. I would've been good with it had Minwoo had his redemption arc in earlier episodes, but it just feels too rushed and sloppy now. What!? We're supposed to sympathize with him all of a sudden because his parents have health problems and he's got too be the breadwinner for his family? like, it sucks that his parents are unwell, but that still doesn't excuse the behaviour he has displayed towards Youngwoo and the things he is still ACTIVELY trying to do. And they wanna throw Su Yeon in the middle of it? Our girl has been through enough!! I won't say anymore about this other than I hope this is just a subplot where Suyeon finds out about what he plans to do and derails his plans. Extra points if Geurami somehow finds out also and they stomp him together, bit of a reach but, if the latest episode has taught us anything, it's to expect the unexpected.

3. Attorney Jung

It was touching albeit heartbreaking to see a glimpse of his married life, as soon as they got to that old noodle place and he started talking fondly about it, I knew there had to be something else, the smile he had on his face while explaining the noodles to everyone, it felt like warm familiarity. Even though his storyline is heavy with sadness and pain, I love how he fully embraced the trip to Jeju. Choosing to ride in the drop top with Geurami and hairy boss at the bafflement of his colleagues, telling everyone that he just wants to hang out with them and enjoy food and drinks, promptly slamming their laptops down and making a mess of Youngwoo's papers(that made me laugh out loud and fall in love with him even more😂) even though he knows this is still work, he's making the most and best of it, and I couldn't be happier for him. The end made me cry for obvious reasons, I'm sooo scared for him. Imma throw hands if anything tragic happens to him.

Anyways, those were my 3 major concerns. I know there's a lot more to unpack but my brain is still trying to recover atm😂

Sidenote: Geurami and hairy boss were the dopamine we all needed to make it through.

And thank you for coming to my Ted talk😊

#extraordinary attorney woo #i'm on the verge of tears #please dont let anything worse happen to my babies😭

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myfandomhell · 1 year

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Okay so here's my take on 9X01 and Gadreel possessing Sam to save him. Neither Sam OR Dean are at fault for the possession and anger after wards. Hear me out . . .

I don't know what it is about this episode that just breaks people's brains, but you people are not truly considering what's going on here.

I'll start with my analysis for Sam as I haven't really seen anyone have this take.

Sam is absolutely right in being angry. If I was dying, knew I was dying, and got to a place emotionally and mentally that I truly ready to embrace death, so much that I wanted to ensure I wouldn't come back, and then suddenly I was brought back/saved, I'd be pissed too. Like I'm sure that type of thing really fucks with your mind.

Sam is totally within his right to be angry. I think he misplaces that anger, I think it gets overly placed on Dean(which is fair to a certain extent) but he overlooks the real reason he's angry, and never really places it on the one who is actually to blame(Gadreel).

Okay now for Dean's turn.

Of course Dean would do everything to bring Sam back, like that's what he does. It's so unrealistic to expect him to do anything different, Sam can be pissed at Dean, but he shouldn't be surprised at all that he did everything(including a deal) to save him. Like what, was this supposed to be the time he just lets Sam die? Of course not.

And he thought Sam would be grateful, he doesn't really accept that Sam was actually ready to die. And that's where a lot of the problems come in between these two over this.

NOW FOR THE PERSON WHO IS TO BLAME

Gadreel.

Seriously Sam and Dean are not really at fault for the way things panned out. Yes maybe if they talked more or didn't repress so much BS, but they really were both just trying to make the best of a shitty situation(Sam accepted that he was going to die, while Dean made a rushed deal to save him)

Gadreel lied to Dean, possessed Sam without getting informed consent, and then broke their agreement after.

And don't give me "All Gadreel wanted was a chance to redeem himself" if he wanted that then maybe he wouldn't have lied to get a vessel as one of his first actions on earth. He doesn't try to redeem himself, he tries to get power, then he falls back on "redemption" when his guilt finally catches up to him.

Seriously, even Lucifer gets informed consent before possession.

So, Sam and Dean are both technically in the right from their perspectives. I don't think either really took the time to talk things out or try to see it from the other's perspective, but that's par for the course with these two.

So stop it with the Sam's ungrateful and whiny, and Dean's controlling bs, and be angry at the actual problem, GADREEL

#spn 9x01 #gadreel #spn #mfh post #spn season 9

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jagged1 · 2 years

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What Happened To Us?

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Teen Characters: Jeremy Blaire/Waylon Park Summary: Inspired by the song Sonder by The Wrecks. Jeremy's a fucking bastard. Contains: Pre-Canon, Canon Complaint, Break Up Word Count: ~900 AO3 Link

Jeremy is such a bastard sometimes. It's not a surprise, but Waylon was expecting better of him. They're not kids trying to figure out their way through life anymore. Jeremy's rocketing his way up the corporate ladder and Waylon's establishing his skill as a software engineer.

Jeremy loves the high life and is a hedonist in every way. If he can get ahead in business and boost his standing and freedom to indulge, he will. He's so fucking smart about it too. He keeps his eyes on everything, reading the room, the market, the way the tide will turn, and puts it to work for him so easily.

It's amazing and terrifying. Waylon is so damn impressed and so damn pissed off at the same time. A man who can manipulate the world like that could do so much more than just cater to his own whims and wants. He could have a real effect on people beyond whatever drives his current employer's profits up. Waylon thinks it’s a waste to only use it for monetary gain. Jeremy thinks he’s an idiot for caring about something that ultimately doesn't affect them. It’s something they’ve never been able to agree on.

Still, Waylon loves the man. God knows why, sometimes, but they've been through so many sleepless nights together, it means something to him. They've fought long and hard before and probably will again, but they've always managed to patch things up between them.

He can remember Jeremy coming home, flowers in hand, an awkward, uncomfortable look on his face, and an apology on his tongue. Waylon would cling to the infuriating son of a bitch for the rest of the night, losing himself in their embrace. He can remember the quiet, soft days they'd spend together when neither one of them had class or work, Waylon tucked into his side while Jeremy flicked through the pages of his latest book.

He wants that peace right now, but he can't have it. He's so pissed off, he's burning gas just to put as many miles as possible between the two of them. Jeremy can be a dick, but lately he's gotten fucking mean about things. He knows Waylon can't always get his meaning across on the first try. He's always been better with numbers than words, but Jeremy doesn't have to deride him for wasting his time with it. It's not like Waylon's doing it on purpose; it's not like it's an intentional dig at Jeremy, although now he wishes it was.

So. Fuck him. Waylon up and left and he's happy to ignore his calls as he gets some distance between them, the look in Jeremy's icy blue eyes haunting him the entire time. Fucking jerk.

He drives until it's so late it's early. The calls stopped hours ago, but he still isn't ready to talk to him. It feels like he'd be starting another stupid fight if he wakes him by calling now. He's dead tired, but he just wants to go home. Waylon turns the car around and begins the long trek back.

It's eerily quiet when he gets home. He double checks the key hook and sees Jeremy's keys are gone, which is a little odd, but it's not unheard of for him to be suddenly pulled into something at work. He sighs. So much for fixing things right away. He can't do anything now, so he collapses on the bed in exhaustion, as a dreamless sleep takes him.

When he wakes, Jeremy's still not back. In fact, even with his bleary eyes, he's noticing things he missed last night. Their dresser is a mess, the closet is wide open and half-empty, everything is in disarray.

Waylon blinks slowly. No. No fucking way. He is not seeing this. That fucking asshole did not just- leave.

He scrambles for his phone, miraculously still holding a charge, and looks closer. There's a voicemail he didn't notice earlier that's timestamped from last night.

With rising dread and fury, he hits play.

"Waylon… I've been calling for hours and you still won't pick up. Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you, but the call I was on earlier was about a new job opportunity. Part of the deal was to leave immediately for this facility in Colorado. I would've taken you with me, but you're not here and I have to go. You understand, right? It's not personal; it's just business. It was good while it lasted. Maybe I'll see you around. Goodbye, Waylon."

What the fuck. What the fuck. Okay, so he didn't pick up, that's his fault, he admits it. But leaving him over a fucking voicemail? That fucking bastard! Did their fucking years together mean so little to him?!

He thought he knew all of Jeremy's bad sides. He thought they could work around them. He thought Jeremy cared for him.

He doesn't think he knows anything anymore.

Waylon has lived with this ache in his heart for longer than he wants to admit. He's tried to never be like…him. And to get this contract brings up a lot of memories he still doesn't know how to handle.

But he needs the job and he wants answers, so he picks up the phone and dials. "Hello, is this the Murkoff Corporation? My name is Waylon Park and I'm calling about the offer for a software engineer…"

#outlast #outlast whistleblower #jeremy blaire #waylon park #jerway #my fic #my writing

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 23 - The Witch's Cabin (Part Two)

Thanks to my gif maker and friend of course, @abimess.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: +18, smut.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 23 - Part XXIII - The Witch's Cabin (Part Two)

You weren't sure if Wanda wanted some time from you as well, as you watched her walk through the garden, sit alone on one of the benches while looking at the rocky mountains in the distance.

What you were sure of was that she was distressed. So much so, that even as she blocked out her emotions, strands of her discomfort escaped, and you felt your body shiver slightly.

Sighing, you put your hands in your pockets, resisting the urge to join her as you watched her from the balcony.

"Here, Miss." It is Charles who says beside you, with a mug of reheated tea. You raise your eyebrow in confusion, and he smiles tenderly. "I thought a hot drink would bring you some comfort." He explains, and you mutter a thank you as you accept the cup.

Charles stands beside you, watching the landscape in silence for a moment. When you take the first sip, and sigh lightly, he asks, "Did it help?"

"Not much." You reply. "I appreciate the intention, but I won't feel good over tea until she is."

It's a simple statement. And Charles just murmurs in understanding, not needing you to explain further.

There is another pause, before he speaks again.

"Then I think you should talk to her." He says.

"She said she needed some time alone." You retort, scratching the back of your head with your hand quickly, and placing the cup on the large one on the balcony. "I'm giving her space."

"Oh, I see." He murmurs. "Are you sure that the alone time included her protector?"

You give a short humorless laugh. "You know, people have weird ideas about this whole thing. We're still two separate people. Wanda can have her time without me."

"Of course she can." Charles agrees quickly. "Forgive me, I think I expressed myself badly. I didn't mean to say that you two aren't independent, or to put me on the same level as sensationalist wizards who don't know anything about ancient magic." He speaks, causing you to frown. "I only meant that it is my understanding that scarlet witches and their patrons have a special relationship. If I remember correctly, it is written that the patrons bring a profound sense of safety and comfort to their sorceresses when present."

You feel your cheeks flush, and you look away quickly. Charles doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he says nothing.

"So...do you think she'll like it if I talk to her?"

" Well, she's your sorceress, you know her better than I do, Miss Stark." Jokes the man. "Don't let an old book tell you what you must or mustn't do."

You bite the inside of your cheek, lingering your gaze on the crestfallen figure of Wanda meters ahead.

"Thanks for the tea, Charles." You mutter before starting to walk toward the gardens.

To avoid frightening her, you make a noise with your steps, but Wanda only lifts her head when you are practically at her side.

And you swallow dryly when you notice the tears on her face, approaching calmly to sit beside her.

You don't have to say anything really, and you don't mind waiting for her to tell you whatever she needs to. But Wanda just waits for you to sit down, and then she leans against your body, sinking into your embrace as you run your hands around her.

She relaxes immediately with your touch, sighing. You think Charles was right after all.

Her tears cease, drying against your shirt, and she inhales deeply against you.

“Thank you.” She whispers, making you smile shyly, as you run your fingers through her hair.

"For what?" you whisper back, half-joking, not knowing exactly what you've done.

"For staying."

You sigh, hugging her tighter as your fingers gently scratch the back of her neck, and Wanda shivers against you, before relaxing completely. "I told you I'm never leaving."

You stand like that for a few more moments, until Wanda starts to move again. She pulls her face away to look at you, and you just smile at the intense way she does so.

"I'm sorry." She says, and you frown in confusion. She straightens up before continuing, taking a deep breath, as if she is finding the right words. "With everything Agatha showed us, I finally understood that I never had a choice on my fate. And before, when I was going to erase your memory, how angry you got, I didn't understand why. Because to me, I was making the right thing, sparing you somehow. But now, I understand." She confesses quickly, gesturing as her eyes fill with tears. "It was your choice. And I don't think you would ever forgive me if I moved on without you, when you chose to stay with me. And as much as I hate how dangerous this is, and I don’t want you to get hurt, you have the right to choose to stay by my side if you want, because those are your feelings and I had no right to try to take them away from you."

You nod, sighing, and raise your hand to her face, caressing her cheek.

"It's okay, darling." You say. "I haven't been angry in quite some time. But I appreciate that you apologized."

You move closer, kissing her softly on the lips before pulling away. "I guess in the end I broke my promise about not touching you before the apology." You joke making her smile. "I couldn't help it, you're just too irresistible."

Wanda laughs shyly, raising her hands to your neck, looking at you fondly.

"Do you want to talk about what we saw?" You ask next, and she sighs, nodding.

You spend the next few minutes talking. Wanda feels bad about the whole thing. About all the lies, schemes, and about never having had a real choice. No matter what would happen, she was always going to become the Scarlet Witch. And no one asked if she wanted that.

She didn't talk about Natalya, and you respected her time.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive Agatha completely for the things she did." Wanda confesses a moment later, you two are sitting side by side, looking at the mountains. "But a part of me will never be able to hate her entirely. And I detest that."

"It doesn't bother me that she matters to you, Wanda." You say. "Even with everything that happened, she really believed she was doing the right thing. And now she's helping us. And I know you've spent a lot more time with her than I have." You clarify quickly, and Wanda looks at you with a slight frown. "I just mean that even with the pain she caused me, it's okay for you to still care about her. I won't hold a grudge over it."

Wanda nods, reaching your hand up on the bench. She entwines your fingers together, and moves closer to lean against you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Can we stay here just a little longer?" She whispers. The sunrise is approaching. You were going to say you would stay as long as she wanted, but your speech becomes a yawn halfway through, and she laughs softly. "Maybe the bed would be better."

You laugh softly too, and Wanda squeezes your hand before moving to pull you back into the house.

When you go through the kitchen, Agatha is there. She and Wanda exchange a look, but neither of them says anything, and you just follow the brunette in front of you upstairs.

You think you'll sleep until lunchtime at least.

//-//-//-//-//-//

You grunted in pain as you fell to the ground.

"Everything okay there, Stark?" Agatha's softly teasing voice made you give a wry laugh.

"Perfect." You grumbled as you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants. "Again please, and try something stronger this time, Agatha, I think you're starting to go soft on me."

The witch laughed, raising her wand quickly. The next spell hurt more than the first.

It had been eight and a half weeks since you had been in Agatha's house.

Things were going well, if you could put it that way.

After that day when Agatha showed the memories out of the pensieve, she and Wanda were on thin ice, and no memories were shared again. They treated each other politely, with occasional sharp pins, but nothing ever too aggressive.

Meanwhile, Agatha was really helping the two of you to become better sorcerers.

You think you never learned so much magic at once, but you weren't complaining.

Even Charles was helping you with potions, a passion he seemed to share with Erik.

And with the intensity of your studies, Agatha hoped that soon you would be worthy of pulling Rowena's diadem out of the hat, but she never seemed to find the right spot, and it was making everyone slightly frustrated, even if no one would admit it.

You haven't heard from the order.

With Fury's death, the radio went silent. You believed that no one but him had been arrested, or killed, because nothing was said in the Daily Prophet. But it wasn't easy to ignore the tightness in your chest at not knowing for sure.

Now that you were practically considering yourself a master at dueling, even if Agatha wouldn't admit that you had far more knowledge in defense against the dark arts than any other witch your age, you expected her to continue the lessons in Occlumency and Legilimency that Erik never managed to finish.

"You're not ready for that yet." She replied, for the third time you brought up the subject, and you sighed impatiently.

"But professor-"

"Erik taught you the basic level of that magic, Y/N." She interrupts, moving her hands so that the objects in the kitchen begin to prepare lunch around you. Wanda is in the house library, studying with Charles, and you had spent all morning practicing dueling spells, and learning to become more resistant to them as well.

Your whole body was sore from the times you fell to the ground when you were hit by stupefy and the most common duelling spells , but it was better than being knocked out at the first attempt if you had never practiced before.

"A master of legilimency would be able to dominate the minds of an entire city at once. You're not ready for that kind of magic yet."

"But I don't need to control an entire city, Agatha." You argue back, following her through the kitchen around the house. "You can just continue from where Erik started and-"

"Enough." She interrupts by turning to you, but she doesn't look angry, just impatient. "You won't leave me alone if I don't agree won't you?"

"No."

She sighs. "I can teach you Occlumency, Stark. But I won't teach you Legilimency, it's...against my vows."

You frown in confusion, "Your vows?"

But Agatha gives you only an insinuating look, and you understand.

As Legilimency is directly considered a forbidden, and dark magic, it would break her vow to only do the right thing by the scarlet witch, her promise to Natalya.

You've never been more curious to know how Agatha got around the perpetual vow for so many years, but the way she’s back walking tells you she's not going to share that with you anytime soon.

"Charles is a master legilimens." She continues talking, moving downstairs where the library is. You in her trail. "He can teach you."

"Really? That 's great!."

As you arrive at the study room, the huge piles of enchanted books surrounding you, your gaze immediately seeks Wanda's.

As Agatha tells Charles to teach you, you approach the girl, finding her distracted with a reading. You smile at how lovely she looks, and can't help but move quickly closer, and steal a surprise kiss from her that makes her sigh.

"Hey, you." You say as you pull away, and she giggles as she relaxes.

"Hey, you." She repeats as she stops you from moving away by holding you by your arm, pulling you back to kiss you properly.

"Hey little love birds, your first lesson in Occlumency is going to be tonight." Agatha warns in a tone of teasing, as you give an embarrassed chuckle breaking away from Wanda, leaning on the pilaster next to the chair she is sitting in. "And you, Miss Maximoff, can practice your natural legilimency skills with Charles on the same schedule as well."

"Yes, ma'am." You and Wanda answer together, and Agatha gives a warning sneer before turning, squeezing Charles' shoulder gently before leaving.

The man turns to you. "Miss Stark, please do not spill mud on my parchments."

You look down to your clothes immediately. Well, it wasn't your fault that Agatha had knocked you to the ground so many times. You were a mess, and you raised your hands in a sign of surrender.

"Sorry, Charles." You mutter as you walk away. "I just came to give my beautiful girl a kiss, I'm going upstairs to take a shower. See you two at lunch."

You give Wanda a wink of goodbye before walking away, being careful not to bump into books along the way.

//-//-//-//

You grumbled softly in pain as you removed your tangled sweater, realizing that perhaps you should have asked Agatha to go easy on the spells instead of challenging her.

Distracted, you startled when you heard knocking on the bathroom door, but relaxed completely when you saw that it was only Wanda, who smiled and leaned against the doorframe, looking up at you.

"Hey, babe." You greeted her, working to remove your shoes. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I just decided to take a break from the books." She replies. "But I would like to know how you convinced Agatha to teach you Occlumency so easily." She comments in a mixed tone of teasing and impressiveness and you laugh softly as you kick your untied shoes away.

"With my charm of course." You return, making her laugh.

When you motion to remove the shirt, Wanda bites her lips. "Allow me."

You stand still then as she steps up to your front, looking at you with the same tenderness that you look back.

Wanda works on the buttons of your shirt, and when she is finished, she pushes the material away, sliding it down your arms until it falls to the floor. You blush slightly under her curious gaze, but say nothing, letting her move the straps of your bra, and then open the clasp, soon the garment falls too.

She moves her fingers down your waist, to reach the zipper and buttons of your pants, and unzips them. You move timidly to remove the item as well, taking your panties with it.

Wanda gives a soft giggle, and you look at her curiously.

"What?"

"It's nothing." She says shyly. "It's...I just realized that it's the first time I've seen you naked."

You blush, but respond. "I wish I wasn't covered in dirt."

"I wish you weren't covered in bruises." She retorts sharply, and you swallow dryly. The purple marks around your body are a result of the spells, but you don't care about that. The pain isn't exactly strange after all.

"It was worth it, though." You retort softly, and think that part of you is really referring to getting stronger, learning new magic. But the other part, the part that knows it's all for the girl in front of you, adds, "You're worth all the effort."

Wanda looks away, swallowing dryly as well. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth, Wanda." You say simply, and she sighs, straightening her posture softly.

"But you don't have to say it."

"You want me to lie then?"

"I just don't want you to say it so proudly." She retorts almost scoldingly, and you bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to argue. She sighs, and puts distance between you, turning toward the exit.

You clear your throat, and call out to her. "I don't want you to be angry." You murmur. "I can't help it to say things like this, you know that."

Her expression softens. "I'm not angry, darling." She assures you. "I'll just get a towel for myself."

She leaves before you understand what that implies. Wishing you didn't look like a complete mess, you quickly step into the tub you left ready as soon as you arrived in the bathroom, and sink against the hot water, waiting for Wanda to join you.

Wanda doesn't take long. She leaves the towel in the sink, and smiles at you before she starts to undress, right there in front of you, as if she had done it a thousand times before.

You blush, but don't look away. And she doesn't seem to mind that you follow every movement of her hands, although her cheeks redden when she has her breasts exposed in the air.

Soon, she steps into the tub with you, taking the seat in the opposite corner, smiling softly as you hug your legs, looking up at her.

"I'm sorry I said that, I know you don’t like it and I shouldn’t have." You mutter. But Wanda just shakes her head, steeling herself to move closer, her hands touching your forearms.

"Don't worry." She says. "It's the truth after all. You are my knight in shining armor, and I can't do anything to change that."

You laugh softly, and Wanda smiles, stroking your skin with her thumb.

"I want to try something." She says next, making you look at her curiously. "Something I read about it this week. Can I?"

"Of course, darling." You say, and then she is pulling your forearms gently so that you stop hugging your legs, and you sink your hands into the water, waiting, as Wanda moves her fingers, guiding you so that you sit properly, and she sits between your legs. "What are you going to do?"

You ask curiously, even half embarrassed to have her so close, but Wanda just smiles, moving her hands out of the tub, where she makes the soap magically fly to her.

"First, I'm helping you get clean, babe."

She says, dipping the soap in the water before bringing it to your skin, lathering your shoulders gently. You relax under her touch, looking at her intently.

"Can I do the same to you?" you ask in a whisper, and she smiles.

"Of course."

Wanda raises the soap at face height, and with a flick of her hands, the item doubles itself to another. You raise your eyebrow. "Show-off." You tease, making her chuckle, as she hands you the other soap.

For the next few minutes, you help each other soap up amidst giggles, and stolen glances. Wanda's touch is as gentle and affectionate as her gaze, and you are so comfortable that you don't even have time to think about how intimate the whole moment is.

As you finish washing off the soap, Wanda begins to run her fingers along your shoulders. "Will you stay on your back for me?" She asks lowly, and you murmur in agreement before shifting to obey.

Without seeing her, your curiosity makes you tense up, and Wanda smiles as she moves closer, her hands on your waist. "Relax, darling." She asks against your ear, her fingers moving up your skin slowly as you obey.

"Do you remember last summer?" She begins, and suddenly you are feeling soft twinges on your skin. It's Wanda's magic. You don't know what she's doing, but it feels good. Little shocks around your back.

You just murmur, relaxing against her hand.

"When Papa taught you about mirroring magic, I mean." She continues, her tone low and soft. "So that you could take my damage from possible attacks."

"And you were so upset about my wrist breaking when you fell off a broom that you put me to sleep in Pietro's bed." You complete making her laugh.

"But I didn't send you away because I still wanted you in my house." She retorts and you laugh in agreement.

"Yes I do, darling." You say next. "I remember everything I went through with you."

Wanda bites her lips, blushing at your statement. But she continues to talk beyond that.

"There is another kind of spell like that." She says. "Charles was reading with me a line that said If the protector can take the pain, the witch must learn to heal the pain as well. You understand what I mean?"

You sigh softly as you feel the pressure of her fingers increase on the points where you knew you were injured. But it's not discomfort that you feel. It's a different sensation, like an electric shiver that turns into a gentle tightness.

"Yeah, I think so. You'll be able to heal my wounds now, right?" You ask with your eyes closed, instinctively leaning even closer against her hand as the pressure increases, and Wanda just murmurs in agreement, concentrating on her task. "That's pretty cool."

"I still need to learn it properly." She continues. "And I don't want to have to practice."

You chuckle softly at the comment. Of course she doesn't. For her to learn to heal your wounds, you would need to hurt her so she gets to practice, and that possibility is horrible for Wanda.

"I'm sure we'll find an alternative to that, Wands." You murmur lazily, so relaxed against her touch that you begin to feel sleepy.

Wanda continues for a few more minutes, and when she finishes, she goes around your waist with her hands pulling you gently against her, making you sigh.

"How do you feel?" She asks with her face resting on your shoulder, her arms hugging you as you relax against her.

"I feel incredible, love." You reply with your eyes closed. "Thanks to your magic fingers."

Wanda giggles, turning her face to kiss your neck, her lips touching your skin softly and making you smile and sigh.

"Can I make you feel even better?" She asks as she returns her mouth to your ear, playing with the lobe between her lips and teeth, making you hold your breath. "I could use my magic fingers."

You bite back a smile, nodding. Wanda inhales softly, settling herself better against the tub.

Her hands go around your belly with her fingertips, moving upward. You gasp when she reaches your breasts, stimulating your nipples between her fingers.

You let out a satisfied murmur, and your body gradually warms up.

When your nipples are hardened enough, and Wanda has you shivering, she wraps your breasts with her full hands, pressing the flesh against her palm, and you gasp, throwing your hips forward unter water.

"Wanda." You sigh softly as she continues to play with your breasts. "Don't tease."

"I'm not teasing darling." She murmurs back, returning the gentle caress against your nipples. "I'm just getting you wet."

"Just... touch me." You whisper, starting to move back into her, the tightness in your belly growing, and all she did was touch you softly. "Please."

Wanda lets out a sigh, like a giggle, and you don't have to look at her to know she's smiling. "I didn't know you were the begging type, babe."

You grumble under the teasing, but Wanda finally lowers her hands, and you shiver in anticipation, forgetting to respond.

She runs her hands down your inner thighs, but never where you want her. And when you sigh impatiently, she chuckles against your ear.

"Say pretty please again." She teases and you feel your cheeks burn, quickly turning your face to the left, putting distance between her mouth and your ear. All Wanda does is chuckles again, but this time, her fingers go straight to where you want her, caressing your entrance and you gasp.

“M-more.” You ask but she just stands still, her fingertips against your clint while her mouth kisses your shoulder and her other hand goes up to your breast, to repeat the moviments from earlier.

You have trouble keeping your eyes open, and when you try to force her finger against you, she just moves them away with a giggle while you grumble of dissatisfaction.

“Wanda.” You warn, but her hand just rests against your thigh.

“C’mon, babe.” She says. “You sounded so hot when you said please. Do it again.”

“No.” You retort stubbornly, but your affected tone makes her smile, her fingers moving closer to your warm center but still not touching and making you clench your closed fists.

"Say, please fuck me." Wanda whispers against your ear, and you feel a sharp, tightly pulsation in your belly, sighing heavily. "And I will."

But you didn't want to give Wanda a taste of victory, even as you came so close to begging for her touch. All you did was press hard against her, your ass fitted against her hot core, and she gasped in surprise and arousal, digging her nails into your thigh.

"Cheater." She murmured breathlessly, making you smile, but your advantage was short-lived when she pressed your breast into her palm, and without any warning, slid a finger into you, entering easily through both the water in the tub and your arousal.

"Oh." You moaned loudly, one hand gripping the edge of the tub as Wanda moved slowly inside, making you squirm. "More, babe. Please."

Wanda chuckles at your hopeless tone, but obeys, inserting another finger now. It slides between your edges with ease, and you bite your lips to avoid being loud. But when Wanda presses her palm against your clit as her fingers move in and out of you in a slow, torturous rhythm, you whimper, squeezing your hands on the edge of the tub until they turn white.

"You're so tight." Wanda whispers against your ear, her hot, wet breath sending shivers throughout your body. "My sexy baby taking my fingers so well."

You moan softly, becoming even more aroused by Wanda's words. She sighs against your ear, quickening the pace of her thrusts, and you begin to feel the tightness under your belly reaching the limit.

"W-wanda... I'm clos-oh" You can't maintain a coherent sentence, thrusting your hips in the same rhythm as Wanda's fingers move in and out of you, and Wanda grunts against your ear, her fingers sinking into you.

"Show me how it feels, Printsessa" She asks and you need to concentrate beyond pure pleasure to be able to share your sensations with her. When you do, Wanda moans loudly against your ear, the hand on your breast squeezing firmly, pulling you against her and making you gasp. "Is this how you feel with me, baby?” She asks with a breathless whisper. “It’s so fucking good." She whimpers, increasing the pace of her fingers, and now stimulating both you and herself, and you use your free hand to keep yourself from screaming, knowing that the noise would attract the attention of the other residents.

"I can't hold it." You whimper, your body beginning to spasm out of rhythm with the strokes, you are so close.

"So don't." She gasps back against your ear, and it's the next second that you come, your walls clenching against Wanda's fingers, and you see stars, your loud moan is muffled by her hand on your mouth when you can't keep the gesture and clench your hands under the water.

And you are barely recovering from your orgasm when Wanda reaches hers, sharing it with you, and you moan deeply, turning a complete mess against her, feeling your body explode with pleasure again.

You stand in silence, trying to normalize your breaths, Wanda's fingers slip out of you, making you sigh, but she keeps her hand on your thigh, until she joins the two at your waist, smoothing you better against her.

"I can't feel my legs." You mumble breathlessly, your body tingling completely from the intensity of the orgasms. Wanda just gives an equally affected laugh, moving one of her hands up to push her wet hair out of the front of her face.

"Too bad, I still want to taste you."

You grunt softly, feeling your face heat up. But you sure as hell won't protest when Wanda's hands start coming down again.

//-//-//-//-//-//

“It really worked.” You murmurs impressed, as you button a clear shirt up, getting ready for having some food since you and Wanda skipped lunch, being busy with things. The bruises that you once had, are all gone. A few red spots were seen, but nothing too remarkable as before.

Wanda bites her bottom lip, kneeling in the bed, still naked. The vision was a gift from heaven you could say.

“If you feel any pain, tell me.” She asks as she watches you dressing. “I could try to ease that too.”

“You’re too good for me baby.” You commented with a shy smile, getting closer to her again. Agatha liked well dressed manners, she said. That’s why almost every set of clothes she gave you had ties, and sweaters. You and Wanda teased her about being old.

And that's why you're knotting your tie, and Wanda is unbuttoning your shirt. Wait, what?

"Hey, hey." You quickly warn, holding up her fingers, as Wanda giggles with her gaze gleaming in mischief. "We can't stay here all day, sweetheart."

"Can’t we?" She retorts in a mixed tone of defiance, making a pout that makes you want to kiss her.

"You know we can't." You retort with a smile, caressing her cheek before buttoning the buttons she has opened. Wanda bites her lips as she watches you. "I can bring you something to eat, but eventually we have lessons."

"No, that's okay, I'll come down with you." She says but doesn't move from her spot, and you raise an eyebrow curiously, but Wanda was just waiting for you to finish buttoning your shirt before pulling you up by your poorly tied tie, rising to kiss you on the mouth.

You smiled against her lips, bringing one of your hands to her neck, kissing her firmly.

"Are you sure we need to go downstairs?" She murmurs breathlessly against your mouth, and you sigh.

"Maybe another ten minutes."

It takes another half hour for you to leave the room.

Wanda accompanies you, straightening your crumpled clothes before you head to the kitchen.

Fortunately, Charles had saved some lunch for you, and between smiles and stolen glances, you ate in silence.

And when Agatha asked you to join her upstairs, for her occlumency lesson, Wanda kissed you on the cheek and wished you good luck.

Agatha's private study room was dark.

Unlike the library, or Charles' offices, which were extremely cozy.

Here, you felt almost intimidated. But Agatha seemed relaxed, and you felt confident enough with your magic to enter.

"You know the fundamentals, Miss Stark, so let's not stall." She says as she walks over to one of the cabinets, working to remove her rings and place them on the wood. "Sit back and relax. And know that I'm going to try the real thing, Y/N. Just like an opponent would."

You swallow dryly, but murmur in understanding, walking over to sit in the armchair that Agatha seems to have left ready for you.

She turns around, and takes the seat in front of you. With a flick of her fingers, one of the books on the bookshelves in the room comes flying toward her, floating in the air, open at eye level.

She grumbles softly as she reads, probably checking the spells correctly, and then the book closes and returns to the bookshelf.

"In a fight, a wizard's mind can be their greatest enemy, Miss Stark." She begins, rolling up her sleeves, and you hold your breath in anticipation. "That's why you need to protect yours as best you can."

"Professor Erik taught me a few things." You mutter, but Agatha raises her eyebrow in disbelief, and you are almost offended. "Hey, I'm not that helpless."

"Is that what you think?" She challenges. "Look closer."

You frown in confusion, and try to understand what she means.

Then you notice the other figure in the corner of the room and almost jump out of your chair.

An illusion, Agatha never sat next to you, and she disappears the same second you noticed her.

"What the fuck....?"

"Illusions, Miss Stark, will be the least of your problems if the dark lord has access to your mind." Agatha warns as she moves from the shadows of the room, her hands folded on her belly, looking at you, who was still in shock from the last trick. "But I will teach you to recognize and escape false images first."

The first lesson is not easy.

Honestly, it is so exhausting that by the time Agatha frees you, you are stumbling sleepily to your room.

You fall into bed still in your study clothes, and are almost closing your eyes when Wanda walks in.

"Hey, sweetheart, aren't you going to dinner?" She asks, but you don't even open your eyes, muttering that you were going to sleep.

Wanda walks over to you, gives you a kiss on the cheek, and turns out the lights.

//-//-//

It takes another three weeks for something to happen.

Technically, a lot has actually happened.

You have learned to break illusions, create them, protect your mind from mid-level invaders, lie in a way that rings true in your mind and fools any invader.

Agatha won't admit it, but you are a very talented Occlumens.

And Wanda, is quite the opposite of that.

Charles often comments that maybe it's the power of scarlet magic, but he''s never seen someone who could manipulate the mind of others so easily. Not since Agatha, and the witch makes a sarcastic remark, but has a proud smile as she goes out to harvest carrots.

Where you are expert at protecting the mind, Wanda is at attacking it.

She doesn't have the same strength as you in blocking Agatha, but you can't invade anyone's mind without putting in a lot of effort.

"I think it's an interesting thing, actually. " Charles comments next to you, in the fourth week of studying mind magic, with the four of you sitting in the room, and Agatha in the armchair in front of you, while you have your wand raised and try to get into her thoughts. "You balance each other perfectly, you know? Y/N can protect your mind while you attack, Wanda. It's quite useful."

"Great observation, Charles." Agatha congratulates impressed, not seeming to have any difficulty blocking you even while talking to someone else.

"Does that mean I can get inside your head through her magic?" Wanda deduces in curiosity, but didn't expect anyone to confirm, her eyes glowing red and connecting with your mind.

You choke, firming your touch on your wand, and because you were already trying the spell, you manage to get into Agatha's mind without any problems with Wanda’s magic.

A small girl is running down a hallway; it's Hogwarts.

"Freak!" " Weirdo!" are the whispers of the crowds of children she is passing through.

And then the whispers change to "watch out, she's the principal' daughter" "I heard she killed that Ravenclaw boy"

A mirror. Agatha must be sixteen now, she looks young. She stares at her reflection, and then punches the glass.

"You are a disgrace to this family." A woman says in front of her as the memory fades to another, looking at her with contempt. "A scandal like this. Our coven will recommend your expulsion."

"I never wanted to be a part of this, Mama!" Agatha exclaims in a mixture of anger and hurt. "I hate those old backward women, I want to learn everything I can and -"

The slap is loud. "Rules exist to keep everyone safe, Agatha. You're too selfish to realize that."

It gets faster, the flashes. You watch Agatha grow up, study in hiding, kiss a girl behind the candy store who pushes her away when the older schoolmates laugh, you listen to the cruel comments, watch her buy the cottage, meet new people, and many colored lights, the spells she has already cast blending throughout the memories.

"Please, daughter, forgive me" She pleads in a crying voice, but Natalya looks at her with contempt. "I will do the right thing this time, please, I-"

"Swear it."

You see a flash of the day she took the perpetual vow, her hands entwined with her daughter, and then you see more quick flashes of lost moments, until you focus on the day she was alone in Magda's house again, her hand on the cheek of baby Wanda, now asleep.

"Forgive me, I have failed again."

The memory shifts, you watch Erik crying at a memorial service, many other people dressed in black beside him.

She talked to Erik about the girl, asking if he had noticed anything strange.

Visiting a mansion, your home. You see yourself, about five or six years old, playing in the backyard with your brother, the emaciated image of your father talking to her in a low tone, delivering a letter.

More unclear flashes.

Agatha writing the acceptance letters from the school that year, the name Wanda Maximoff emblazoned on the paper.

The day Wanda and Pietro enter Hogwarts, Agatha rummaging back into her old journals and books.

Agatha starts to resist then. You see two more flashes of class, before she pushes you and Wanda out of her thoughts, and you choke breathlessly, stumbling away.

The teacher gets up quickly, aggressively throwing herself at you two, and you cover Wanda with your body immediately, but she calms down, because Charles puts his arm around her waist.

"Agatha, breathe." He asks softly, and she seems to come to her senses, shaking her head, and casting an almost embarrassed look at you, before muttering apologies and leaving the room.

You and Wanda are wide-eyed, in shock at all you have seen for long seconds, as Charles sighs and moves to organize the books you had messed up when the lesson began.

"She's going to need some time." He says turning to give you a tender smile. "But don't worry, I can continue the lessons with you two. For now, I suggest a cup of tea to everyone, and we can continue tomorrow."

"S-sure, that sounds great." You mumble awkwardly, turning your face to Wanda, who looks troubled. "Everything okay?" You whisper to her, and she forces a smile, nodding.

You won't push it, so you even squeeze her hand gently before following Charles into the kitchen for tea.

//-//-//-//-//

Agatha doesn't leave her room for six whole days.

Charles just says that she is tired, and brings her meals.

You only study next to Wanda; it's not as if you can feel guilty about something she has done to you so many times.

And then, as if no time has passed, the former headmistress comes into the kitchen in travel clothes, while you are eating lunch.

"Good morning?" You exclaim in surprise, and the teacher only murmurs with a nod, picking up an apple from the fruit tray and turning toward the front door.

You exchange a confused look with Wanda before the two of you quickly stand up.

"Agatha, where are you...?"

"Hogwarts." She replies without stopping walking, as you follow her down the hallway to the exit. "Stephen has hidden the darkhold in the spiritual plane of the castle. I'll get it, and read it to Miss Maximoff as promised."

"I-" Wanda starts half uncertain, but Agatha gestures quickly.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." She clarifies. "We'll need him to perform the ritual as well. Please help Charles with the house, and if possible don't damage my vegetables."

And on the porch, she apparated.

You and Wanda stared at the empty space for a long moment.

"What just happened?" You mutter.

"Did our spell drive her insane?" She retorts back, and you sigh, turning to go back inside, and close the door, Wanda following you inside.

"I have no idea." You say. "Let's let Charles know she's gone, and try to keep him from blowing up other cauldrons while she's out."

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

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