Tumgik
#the other versions of his brothers are like
Text
My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
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The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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lancermylove · 3 days
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Body Swap (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: DB x fem!Reader
Warning: None
Requested by: Anon
Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers
A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!
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Lucifer
Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.
If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.
He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.
On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.
But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.
Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.
You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.
Mammon
He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.
When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.
Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!
You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.
"Now, y'know how I feel..."
Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.
While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.
You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.
Levi
Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.
Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.
For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.
Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.
You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.
This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.
Satan
Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.
He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.
You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.
This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.
Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.
Asmo
Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.
Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.
Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.
One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.
Beel
He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.
Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.
Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.
You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.
On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.
For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.
You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.
Belphie
He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.
Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.
You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.
You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.
Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.
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Epilogue:
After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.
So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."
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tarjapearce · 1 day
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Mi Dulce Cereza
Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?
WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread
Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.
A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3
"Ma!"
The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.
Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.
"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.
"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)
"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)
Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.
The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.
Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.
Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.
Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.
"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.
A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.
And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.
"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.
His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.
"For you to leave my property."
"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"
A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.
"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."
"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.
"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."
"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)
William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.
He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.
The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.
And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.
"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."
Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.
"Ma?"
Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face
"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"
"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process
"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.
"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.
Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.
"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)
The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.
Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.
William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.
Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.
"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."
"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"
"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."
William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.
The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.
For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.
It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.
That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.
Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.
So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.
Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.
But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.
He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.
William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.
But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.
----
Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.
Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.
Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.
But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.
William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.
The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.
He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.
He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.
Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.
Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.
Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.
William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.
A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.
Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.
If people only knew the scum he is.
If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.
The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.
Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.
He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.
A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.
Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.
Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.
But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.
In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.
-----
He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.
Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.
Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.
Dana.
"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"
The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.
"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."
Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.
Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."
It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.
"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"
Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.
"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."
"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"
Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.
In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.
Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.
"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."
The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.
Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.
"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."
More than they already did? Impossible.
Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."
"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)
He mumbled while stepping into the shower.
"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.
He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.
----
Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.
The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.
A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.
He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.
Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.
The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.
His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.
He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.
A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.
The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.
"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."
Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.
"Thanks."
Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.
Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.
A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.
Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.
Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.
Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.
Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.
But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.
With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.
But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.
A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.
His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.
"Come in."
He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.
It was as if time had barely passed over him.
It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.
This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.
The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.
"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.
"Sir."
William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.
"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."
"Good things I hope."
"Now. The property you'll be in charge is  in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"
"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"
"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."
"Fortnight is alright."
William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.
"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.
"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."
Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.
Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.
Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.
Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.
Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.
Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.
The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.
William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.
"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."
Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.
Miguel chuckled and nodded
"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"
"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."
"I see."
As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.
"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."
With a final and firm handshake, William left.
Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.
Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.
The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.
He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.
Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.
One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.
And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.
---
He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.
Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.
A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.
What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.
Had a worker slipped in?
Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.
"Ma'am?"
----
Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.
Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.
Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.
But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.
The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.
Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.
"Ma'am?"
The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.
"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.
His brow quirked as his face remained serene.
"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."
You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.
If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.
A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.
"I got installed today, it's ok."
He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.
He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.
You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.
You didn't look past twenties.
"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.
Such a polite girl.
"Yes?"
"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"
He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.
"Of course."
"Sorry for the floor."
Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.
"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"
Papa
Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.
He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.
He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.
And what a good job they've made.
"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."
Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.
"Thanks. Love you!"
You hung up the call and smiled his way.
"Thank you. Mr...?"
"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."
You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.
"Right. So you're the new trainer?"
His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.
Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.
"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."
"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."
"My pleasure to help, señorita."
His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.
"Come. Let's get you warmed up."
You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.
You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.
"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.
He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.
A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.
"Mi niña! Let's go!"
The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.
"Thanks for the help, Miguel."
"Anytime, señorita."
He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.
"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.
"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.
You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.
Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.
Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.
"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."
"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."
He sighed with a dreamy heave.
"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."
"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."
"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."
With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.
He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.
He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.
His revenge was finally in motion.
----
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copperbadge · 2 days
Text
Europeans, I have some questions.
Do you know what ambrosia salad is?
If so, is the version you know of a) a normal salad or b) a "dessert" salad?
Do you know what Dirt Cake is?
If so, is that common knowledge in your region?
(What country/region do you live in, other context you wish to add, etc)
I'm working on the new Shivadh novel and I underestimated the comedic potential of Simon, a classically trained French chef who has been cooking for European nobility for thirty years, trying to set a menu for a graduation party with Noah, your average American teenaged garbage disposal, and Eddie, who is literally based on Guy Fieri. Reminds me of the bit in Infinite Jes where Michaelis mentions that Eddie and Gerald had him judge a debate about Hot Pockets and then confesses he doesn't actually know what they are.
(Context for the end of the snippet -- Hugo and Gwen are Simon's brother and sister-in-law, Claude is his young nephew.)
"Huh, okay, so are we doing like a salad theme?" 
"How do you mean?" Noah asked.
"Oh, just, you've got a potato salad and a pasta salad. I'd suggest a Jello salad for dessert but..." Eddie broke off at Alanna's horrified look. "That is what you will see on everyone's face," he said to Noah, pointing at Alanna. 
"Not so, I could do an aspic," Simon protested. "Sweet or savory, very traditional -- not this nonsense from American cookbooks from sixty years ago."
"American nonsense is kinda my brand," Noah pointed out. "Uh, I don't think we realized we were building a giant salad course but I am into that, actually. I'd like to discuss the Jello Salad," he said, and Eddie crowed delightedly while Alanna blanched, so Simon had to mediate a good-natured but extensive debate about gelatin in sweet dessert salads. 
It was an education; when he showed Hugo and Gwen what Americans thought ambrosia salad was, later, their horror was gratifying. It was a fitting prelude to his next exhibit, the Dirt Cake pudding cup, which made Hugo pretend to faint but -- even better -- fascinated little Claude so much that he insisted he wanted them instead of a cake for his next birthday. 
"He'll forget by the time the birthday arrives," Simon assured Hugo, who pretended to mop a sweaty brow. "And if he doesn't, I can elevate this. A light coffee mousse with chocolate biscuits -- drizzle with a sweet wine reduction -- jellied candy flavored with dragonfruit and blackcurrant."
"Can we put bones in the dirt?" Claude asked, already exploring his terrible American dessert options on his tablet. 
"Not human," Gwen said hurriedly. "That's a bridge too far for a birthday party, my darling," she told Claude. 
"Dinosaur bones?" Claude asked hopefully. Gwen and Hugo both looked at Simon. 
"Meringue, or marzipan," Simon pronounced. "Yes, that could be done. Well, my little gravedigger, we will see," he told Claude, tousling his hair.
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sturn3 · 2 days
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nsfw!!! 18+
bfb! matt, who had to deal with his brother's fucking tease of a best friend.
bfb! matt, who had to watch you walk around his house in a bikini, casually cutting up some fruit in the counter, when all he wanted to was bend you over and show no mercy!
bfb! matt, who went by the pool to cool out, but instead, he got more heated as he watched you rub tanning oil all over your body. he just wishes he could rip your bikini off and fuck you right then and there.
bfb! matt, who you had forced to rub some aloe vera all over your body cause you got sunburnt! poor you!! his hands staying on intimate parts for a bit too long, no one of you having a problem with it though.
bfb! matt, who watched you innocently suck a popsicle. twirling your tongue around and sucking before it got the chance to melt down your hand and make a mess.
bfb! matt, who was going crazyyyyy. he was holding himself back from jerking off to the thought of you, but it was getting harder and harder.
bfb! matt, who came to pick you pick up cause it had very suddenly started to rain. he couldn't believe his luck when he saw your see-through white shirt. no bra. he was really questioning his self control at times like these.
bfb! matt, who loved to see you squirm around at his touch.
bfb! matt, whose self-control finally won him the most mind-blowing head of his life by you.
bfb! matt, who had a thing for car sex, so did you, though. you couldn't help but clench your thighs at him screaming on the road or being so focused on his driving. one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
as long as you guys kept this a secret, the more enthralling it would be.
chris version
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scorpioriesling · 1 day
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Enchanted
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Rhysand x reader
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Every birthday girl makes a wish... yours has been the same for years. One you began to doubt would ever come true; but what happens when it does?
SR’s Note: I am honestly giggling and kicking my feet over this one, and lately Rhys hasn't even been my favorite... I don't care. I like how this turned out. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift, of course. Enjoy (:
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Everything about the final day of Autumn was as it usually was; the cool sun bathing the Velaris cobblestone in light, the crisp breeze ruffling your hair, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. Even the townsfolk presented the same familiar faces you’d seen nearly every day now on your way to the public library.
Today was a treat; the day before your birthday, of course. The first day of the Winter season would mark the day of your birth, and usually you’d spend the day before spoiling yourself as you’d usually end up having to work on said birthday. This year, it was no different.
That is, before two large Illyrian warriors donning seven gleaming siphons each landed right in the middle of the square, their enormous bat wings spread wide. The townspeople, as well as yourself, whirled in shock at the sight. After straightening, the taller one (Cassian? You thought?) cleared his throat.
“Greetings, Velaris,” he said, voice echoing down every corridor and alleyway around you. Every wide-eyed fae stared back in awe as he looked from person to person.
“As you know, the High Lord will be having his annual Winter Ball tomorrow evening,” he continued. You’d known; it was an annual tradition. One you’d always ended up working as the bakery your parents owned supplied the delicacies for the event.
“…andddd this year, the High Lord has made it very clear that the celebration is to be extended.” He coughs. Gasps and murmurs begin around you, and you glance side to side as chatter begins.
“The ballroom cannot accommodate all of Velaris; so only a select few will be receiving invitations.” The spymaster calmly cuts in, and the chattering crowd around you stops. All eyes return to the pair in the middle of the street.
“The festivities are to be celebrated here in the city, though, should you not attend the ball,” Cassian fumbles. His brother raises his eyebrows, releasing a breath and gazing at the crowd once more.
“If you’re to be invited; you should expect to receive an invitation in your mailbox by this afternoon.”
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You practically jumped on the mail man when he approached your drive, scaring him half to death as his letters tumbled from his hands.
“I’m so sorry! I’m, um… just, really hoping something came for me today.” You laugh sheepishly as he thrusts a pile of letters into your hands.
“Yeah, you and every other female in Velaris.” He continues on his route with a hmmph, and you begin anxiously thumbing through the letters.
You almost trip when you finally make it back into your small flat, sitting at the kitchen table. Your hand shakes as you get to the last envelope in the pile, only one elegant word written across the front of it.
Y/N.
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“I don’t know if that’s the right… I don’t know, color?” Your best friend eyes you in the mirror, and you twist to one side, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“Maybe not. I don’t know, it’s just not quite… right.” She says, the statement only a repetition of how your morning’s been going. You’ve spent the entire morning trying to find a gown for the ball tonight, but every single one you’ve tried just isn’t quite… the one.
You let out a frustrated sigh, and your friend / shop owner flits toward a wall of dresses, brushing through them once more.
“I feel like I’ve tried on a million,” you say. She returns just a moment later, a lovely steel silver gown in hand. You raise your brows at her.
“Yes, but, it’d be dress one million and one that might catch the High Lord’s attention.” You can’t help but blush, turning from her. It was no secret you found the High Lord of the Night Court quite intriguing; Gods, half of Prythian did.
She tsked at you and shooed you towards the dressing chamber, only for you to reappear a moment later in the gown. She didn’t hide back the gasp, or stunned expression on her face as you approached the mirror to look yourself.
“Oh come now, it can’t be…” But, it was. Seeing it in the reflection, you understood her reaction a little more. You were breathtaking; this one. It had to be this one.
You spend a good few minutes twirling, admiring the gown hugging you in all the right places. You finally glance down at the price tag, and your heart sinks. It was way too expensive.
“I don’t think I can…” You say. Your friend shakes her head, leading you back to the dressing room to change.
“Nonsense.” She says. You stare at her, a blank expression on your face.
“I can’t afford it.” You say. She only winks at you before shutting the chamber curtain, allowing you privacy.
“Consider it a birthday gift!”
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You'd never been to one of these before; not coming from a wealthy family, or even being High Fae yourself, there was never any reason to attend such an event held by Night Court royalty.
Yet, here you stood. In front of the polished black gate, separating you from the awaiting festivities inside.
"Uhh.. miss?" You turn, to see another guest had silently approached at your side. "Are you going in?"
You nod. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry if I held you up-" He shakes his head, a small smile offerred to you as the gates open and he steps beyond. He looks over his shoulder to you.
"No worries... but, I think it's beginning soon?" You hear the groaning of the iron bars and quickly step inside, keeping in step with this new aquiantence. You politely converse until you've reached the main building, and females in lovely gowns pass by you. You nervously look around; maybe you should've prepared better for this.
"I'll see you around," with a small wave, your company stalks off toward a group of males he seems to know. You sigh, taking in the beauty around you. The gleaming faelights, all of the attendees meandering around you, the scent of jasmine in the air-
"I personally want to thank you all for your attendance tonight," you hear, and the room is instantly filled with silence. All eyes are peering toward the front of the room, and the crowd shuffles together to hear the speaker more clearly. You try and get a good look, but you can't really see over everyone's heads.
"I haven't had one of these events in a while where I get to invite our court's friends to join us, and as this marks the first night of Winter," the voice drawls. It sounds lovely, as though it was coming from a cello - deep and smooth. Not like the sounds from Azriel or Cassian, but this one was much different.
"...we are very happy you're all here. So, let the dancing commence!" And with that, the crowd is in a frenzy, chattering and partnering off for the first dance of the evening. Your cheeks heat in embarassment as you realize you have no one to dance with, and you recede towards the stone wall to hide in the shadows for this one. You feel a light hand on your elbow, and you whirl around to come face-to-face with the kind male from earlier.
"I don't have a partner either..." He says, his cheeks flushing rosey-pink. You give him a soft smile, your embarassment fading with every passing second.
"I'd love to dance with you." You slide your hand into his and pull him to the middle of the crowd, just as the music begins. His hand rests on your lower back, the cold metal ring on his finger sending a chill up your spine. You suck in a breath as he pulls you closer to his chest.
"Is this... alright?" He asks. You nod, resting your free hand on his shoulder. Now that you're close to him, you get a better view of his face; his sharp jaw, auburn freckles dusting over his nose. His sultry amber eyes that match the flaming locks upon his head; he truly is beautiful.
But not the reason you came tonight.
He engages in polite conversation as you continue the waltz, asking you about yourself, laughing and making light jokes with you inbetween the spinning and dipping as the music intensifies. You laugh with him, appreciating him more and more by the minute. When he's turned you around, his back to the dias at the head of the room, you swear you meet those violet eyes, staring right back at you. Maybe you're just thinking wishfully, maybe... maybe he is just looking at everyone, but he looked irritated, besides the sweet sentiment he'd made before.
You have to look away, your partner realizing you're staring.
"Is, everything okay?" He politely asks you. You nod, reassuring him everything was. But it wasn't. You were living in this moment; the music, the liveliness of the room, the way you were pushed so close with this male's hand on your waist-
But it still wasn't who you wanted.
You wanted him.
His hands on you. Your body against him. His eyes looking into yours.
You felt like a fool for thinking that coming here would change anything for you.
"I, uhm," your partner fumbles for words to distract you. "I didn't catch your name?" He asks. You meet his gaze, smiling again at him. You knew the High Lord wouldn't need or want you, so you may as well make the most of your night while it lasts.
"Y/N," you reply. He grins.
"What a lovely name," he tucks a flyaway tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes catching when it is exposed. He immediately sees it is rounded; and shame courses through you again as you know he is High Fae.
He clears his throat. "What a beautiful name," he reiterates. "...for a beautiful girl." You can't help but blush at his words, this male is laying the flirting on you thick. Doing quite well at that, too.
"Why thank you," you say, voice feeling small. You didn't register that the song had already changed, your bodies abseltmindedly falling into rhythm as you continue to sway with the music.
"I should probably relieve you from me," he says, dipping his head and huffing a small smirk. "Had I known who you were, I would have let you dance with someone else. I'm sure Rhys will have my ass for this anyway," he concludes. You furrow a brow, as the song engages in the final chorus.
"Whatever do you mean?" You ask. He opens his mouth to answer, but clapping erupts and conversations get too loud around you. What was he even talking about? You'd never met the High Lord, not officially, anyway. Maybe in passing, but there was nothing there.
Suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, his hand on your back feels like fire and you feel like you are sweating. You could pass out, you just needed a minute to breathe and get out of this crowded room.
"I have to um," you shout, over the loud conversing around you. "I need a breath of air!" You say. He nods, and pulls you close, hands still holding yours.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He politely asks. You lean back, meeting his eyes and shake your head.
"I'll be fine!" You say loudly. He nods, and you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'll find you later?" You say, and he grins at you. What a cutie.
You search for an exit, clammy hands brushing the sides of your skirts. You find an open doorway, and travel down a side hall that leads to an unmarked door. Chest tight, you open it -- revealing the most wonderful sight you've ever seen.
You step out onto the stone terrace, walking all the way to the railed edge to get the best view. You let out a gasp; you can see all of Velaris from here. Soft music echoes from beyond, and you watch as a single shooting star stretches across the sky.
"This is, my favorite place to see the whole city too." You turn abruptly, not realizing someone had followed you. You stare in shock as Rhysand leans against the open doorway, arms folded, and one ankle crossed over the other. You immediately get embarassed again, remembering this is his building and his terrace and you were out here without permission-
"No need to worry, darling." He strides over to you, and you feel a tiny tickling inside your head. Your fingers brush your temple on instinct, and you remember that he could in fact see what you were thinking.
"Enjoying the ball?" He asks, his silky tenor causing your attempt to clear your mind to fail. You huff, turning back to the city beyond. He puts his hands on the balcony railing next to you, one hand nearly brushing yours.
"Oh! Um... yes. Yes I have been." Your mind flashes to the dances you'd shared with the readhead, how he held you, and how you'd wished it was Rhys the whole time...
Clear your mind, Cauldron! He could easily see what you were thinking.
"That's... great." His sudden clipped tone had you side-eyeing him. The night seemed to radiate off of him, the onyx crown atop his head gleaming in the moonlight. He was definately intimidating, but you remembered what your new friend said. Did you even catch his name? No. You were too focused on the High Lord, though this other man was nothing but nice to you.
Cauldron, boil you.
"Can I ask you something?" You say. He angles his head to you, a small smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.
"You'd like to know why I asked you here tonight?" He answers. You gape at him, and he chuckles, the sound like soft rain outside an open window.
"How did you-" You begin, and he turns to you, a hand tracing his knucles down the side of your face. You flush at the contact, as this was something you'd only ever hope for in a dream.
"This... is something we can work on later." He looks at the top of your head, the idea of mind shielding grazing your brain.
Has he been inside your head this whole time?
You almost feel violated; if it was anyone but him, you'd tell them to leave you be. But... you couldn't. He was finally here, with you -- but, you can't help from a little bit of your attitude peeking through.
"If you wanted me here so damn bad, whatever the reason may be," you start, pulling back an inch from his touch. His brows raise in amusement. "Why were you pouting about in there? I didn't even see you dance once." You finish. His gaze softens, and his free hand brushes yours on the railing. The hand that once grazed your cheek is now gliding down your arm, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.
"The partner I wanted was already taken." He answers lowly. You don't miss the way his eyes darken a bit, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard to try and stop from freaking out and dissolving into a puddle right then and there.
"Well..." You begin, taking one step closer to him. The soft scent of sea salt and nectarines graces your nose -- of course, one of your favorites. His gaze stays locked on you, drinking in every inch of you with his eyes.
"I'm not now." You say, as confidently as you can muster. His lips twist, trying to supress the huge smile he eventually allows to take over his face. You can't help but smile back; his gorgeous features only more enticing up close. His hand slips around the curve of your waist, pulling you in closer. Your breath catches, as his other hand guides your idle ones to his neck.
"I've waited much too long for this," he says. You are sure you look like a tomato; there was no way he was fawning over you like this. The way you'd done, every night in your room; every day in Velaris, constant reminders of him all over the city; every year when you'd use your bithday wish just to see him, just once -- and there he would be, waltzing into your parents shop before the ball as if he wasn't reducing you to mush each time.
"I'm not very good," he admits with a small laugh. You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you don't allow him enough time to read your mind before the words are spilling out-
"I don't need good. I need you." You take the lead, swaying to the distant music from the walls beyond and streets below, and he only follows. Its his turn to feel flattered, as his hands gently trail up and down your waist. You try your best to keep from shaking in excitement; but it isn't long before you see another star flying across the sky. He glances in your line of sight, grinning and letting one hand go of you. He takes the gleaming onyx crown off his head, replacing it atop yours, tucked behind the brained crown near the top.
You stare at him wide eyed as he pulls your body flush with his, leaning in to whisper, "I'm enchanted to finally meet you," as his soft lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. You can't help but let out a small chuckle, not knowing if you are going to cry or not. You could; you'd only wished for this very thing for years and years.
"You truly are a princess," he drawls on, fingers tracing your jaw lightly. His gaze flicks to the star trailing across the sky, and back to you once more. "One that still needs to make her birthday wish."
Your hands play with the soft hair near the nape of his neck, eyes loving the way he practically wills your mouth to his. It's like there is a thread, a rope connecting the two of you, and he is using his end to pull you closer, closer...
He finally kisses you, softly cupping your jaw as your hands slide down his chest. Pressed against him like this, that rope feels more like a threat tied so tight, golden aura coming from deep within you at the scene around you. He slowly pulls back, eyes searching yours for reassurance. You only reach up and swipe a tear away from his cheek, the new feeling connecting the two of you reassurance enough.
"I don't have one this year; it has already come true."
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burnednotburied · 2 days
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Chapter Four
AO3 Link | Chapter 3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.
Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas
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You watched from the wide window in the second room as Abby walked away and headed towards the coast, your fingers lifting the blinds just enough for you to peek out.
Yara was already drifting off to sleep on the couch behind you. Even Lev was starting to succumb to his exhaustion, his head leaned on the couch’s arm, his eyes blinking slowly.
Quietly, you instructed them both to get some rest, promising to keep watch. Yara mumbled a Yes, Prophet and pulled her legs up just enough for her brother to have room at the other end. He moved from where he knelt on the floor by her head to curl up by her feet, finally allowing himself to close his eyes.
You couldn’t imagine that they had been able to get much rest in their last few days on the run. But you were here now. You would keep them safe.  
You turned your eyes back to the window, to the Wolf, expecting to find her out of your line of sight by now. Instead, you found her standing still, just far enough away for you to be unable to read her expression.
She stood there in the rain for several moments, swaying on her feet, looking back and forth between the coast and the building like she was trying to make a decision.
Stupidly, you wished again that she would stay.
As if she had heard your thoughts, Abby turned and started walking back in your direction, her mind made up.
You smiled and ran to meet her, carefully shutting the door that separated the two rooms as you went, leaving Yara and Lev to sleep undisturbed.
When Abby was once again outside the door, you swung it open, watching her blink at you incredulously with her fist raised, ready to knock.
“Wolf,” you said, trying to hide your pleased smile.
“Prophet.” She let her hand fall.
You stepped aside to let her in.
She brushed past you.
Again, you closed and locked the door, leaning back against it with your hands behind you.
This first room didn’t have furniture. At least not anything to sit on. Abby dropped her bag and sat on the floor across from you, leaning back against the wall with her forearms resting on her drawn-up knees.
You wanted to question her decision to come back, hoping she might give you some insight into why there seemed to be this pull between you two.
You had always longed for connection, feeling so thoroughly set apart from your people that you might as well have been completely alone. They revered you—worshipped you—but they didn’t love you. Not in a way that you truly felt.
You were nothing more than a symbol. An object to worship. No different than an intricately painted mural on a wall. A counterfeit version of the Prophet they once had.
So you didn’t have people who loved you. Who saw you.
That was what you wanted more than anything.
And here was this Wolf, who had fought alongside you and spoken to you like you were a real person. She smiled at you and called you a “good girl”, making you feel what felt like the most tempting sin. And she called you Prophet like it was a joke between the two of you.
You hadn’t wanted her to leave, and here she was. Not leaving.
Maybe this wasn’t one-sided. Maybe it wasn’t all in your head. The fact that she came back was proof that she felt it too.
You studied her face, as if that would reveal something to you.
It didn’t.
You broke the silence. “I’m not actually a prophet, you know.”
This clearly wasn’t what she expected you to say. She probably thought you would ask her why she came back. But you figured her honest answer would be similar to yours: She just felt like she had to, and she didn’t know why.
Abby seemed grateful to bypass the interrogation, so she scoffed, feigning shock. “You mean to tell me you’re not a wise, all-knowing seer of the future, cosmically and singularly chosen to lead the righteous few?”
Your smile returned as you shook your head.
“So how’d you end up with the title?” she asked, genuinely curious.
You had spent a lot of time thinking about this over the years. You decided to give her the simplest answer.
“Honestly, I think I was just the first child who turned twelve after the Elders decided that they wanted a new prophet.”
“Why would that matter?” she asked. When she saw your confused look, she added, “That you were twelve?”
“That’s when we get the…” You gestured to your face, drawing lines on either side of your mouth to indicate the scarring.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
She let her legs straighten in front of her, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her head back against the wall. Her eyes stayed on you, watching you carefully. “Well, at least you got to bypass that fun little rite of passage.”
“I have marks like any other Seraphite,” you said. “I just carry them differently.”
Abby looked curious, like she wanted to ask you to go on. Instead, you pushed off from where you leaned against the door and began unfastening the long cloak that you still wore, glancing up briefly to see the Wolf’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush ever so slightly as she leaned forward to watch you.
It did feel scandalous. Removing the cloak in front of her. Even though you were clothed underneath.
Slowly stripping a layer away with her eyes on you, transfixed. Enamored. Like you were something beautiful—maybe even desirable.
It felt good in a way that you had been taught was bad.
You hoped that, as time and distance came between you and Haven, the Elders’ voices would fade away in your mind. Their rules and demands had always been a suffocating weight on you. But maybe now it was your choice. You got to decide what was true and how to live.
You promised yourself you’d revisit that line of thinking later.
Beneath the cloak, you wore what you always did. A long, simple white dress. The fabric was soft and light. Thin, although not sheer. The sleeves were short, leaving your arms mostly bare, and the whole thing ended just above your ankles. It flowed enough for you to move without any difficulty, but it was properly fitted to your exact measurements at the top.
At Sanctuary, your servants had always been responsible for your dresses, making new ones as your body changed, growing taller and filling out. You hadn’t initially been comfortable in dresses, never having worn them as a child, but after eight years of it being the only option offered to you, you’d grown accustomed to it. Comfortable, even.
Now, you felt naked in it.
The cloak had protected the dress from most of the mud, blood, guts of the day, but it hadn’t totally shielded it against the rain.
The fabric was damp against your skin, clinging more than it usually would.
You kept going, remembering why you had removed your cloak in the first place.
Holding the cloak by the collar in your right hand, you lifted your left arm to show the Wolf the scars that covered the back of your forearm.
Her eyes were focused elsewhere, slowly wandering down your body. Skirting along every line and following every curve, she took her time taking you in. You couldn’t describe the look on her face if you tried.
You shivered, and that movement finally brought her attention back up to your eyes. And then lower, to the arm you had been trying to show her.
Abby seemed to come back to herself, remembering what you had been talking about and why you took off your top layer.
She stared at the marks, quiet. You transferred your cloak to your left hand, lifting the right arm to show the matching scars there.
Neither of you said anything for several moments.
“I’m sure that wasn’t it,” she said, meeting your eyes again. You let your arm fall.
“Hmm?”
“I mean, I’m sure your Elders chose you for a reason. A bigger reason than just when your birthday happened to land.”
You thought for a moment about your other theories. The fact that your father had been a loyal soldier who died protecting the first Prophet. The fact that you were an only child, and with your father dead, you had no family other than your mother, who had always been the most devout follower. The fact that, when you were a child, your teachers said you were the perfect student. Quiet and obedient. They said you would make a wonderful wife someday. Something that left you feeling strangely uncomfortable, but your mother had taken great pride in. She used to talk about her hope that you would be chosen to marry one of the Elders themselves.
Maybe the same things that would’ve made you a good wife also made you a good Prophet. At least as far as what the Elders wanted from a Prophet. They never really wanted you to lead. Just for you to become the face of their initiatives. A mouthpiece. Maybe even a scapegoat.
You decided not to tell Abby any of this, already feeling that she knew so much about you while you knew absolutely nothing about her.
You almost pointed this out when she spoke again.
“You can sit, you know. You should sit. I’m sure you’re tired.”
You weren’t supposed to sit on the ground. Or kneel. For anyone or any reason. Although, you’d already broken that rule a few times tonight. You’d knelt to cut Abby loose from the ropes earlier, and again when she had been setting Yara’s arm.
It was a stupid rule anyway, you decided. And what was it you were thinking about earlier? About making your own decisions about what is good and true from now on?
The floor was dirty though. And your dress was white.
You stepped away from the door, closer to Abby, and spread your cloak out on the floor, sitting on top of it.
Abby scoffed. “Princess.”
You tilted your head, confused, not offended.
“You don’t know what a princess is?” she asked in slight disbelief.
“It’s a word that was used to describe the daughter of an Old World monarch. Or I suppose the wife of a prince, which would’ve been the son of a monarch,” you said matter-of-factly. “I just don’t understand what that has to do with me.”
“I—” Abby started and then stopped. “Never mind.”
You narrowed your eyes, unsatisfied with her lack of an explanation, and decided to ask the much harder question after all.
“Why did you come back?”
“Huh?” she asked, suddenly nervous.
“Why’d you turn around?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I mean—” She sighed, avoiding eye contact. “You guys will die without me—without my help.”
You didn’t like that answer.
“You think we can’t take care of ourselves? That we need a Wolf to protect us?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
“Wha—”
She cut you off. “You’ve never left that island, I’m assuming, until today. You’re a capable fighter, but you don’t know anything about this world—”
“I—”
“You can argue with me if you want, but you know I’m right. And the girl is badly injured. Setting the bone won’t be enough. She needs much more medical attention if she’s going to make it. And the kid is… a kid.” Her eyes meet yours again, determined. Insistent. “So yeah, I think you could use my help. And you would be smart to accept it.”
Abby was right. You knew she was.
You wanted to ask why she cared though. But you didn’t bother, knowing she wouldn’t have much of an answer. Instead, you relented, leaning back on your hands behind you, arms straightened.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Abby breathed out, relieved that you weren’t fighting her.
“Right now, to stay here and rest.”
You nodded your head towards the door between the two rooms. “Yara and Lev are already sleeping.”
“Good. You should join them.”
You smiled a little, making Abby’s heart beat faster. “So I should just go to sleep and trust the Wolf who came into my life under mysterious circumstances?”
She let out a short laugh, dumbfounded. “I came into your life under mysterious circumstances?! You attacked me, knocked me out cold, and hung me up by my neck.”
When you laughed softly and leaned closer, her heart raced.
“Technically, I didn’t do any of those things,” you pointed out.
“No. You just tried to kill me afterwards.”
“I apologized for that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right,” you said, gazing into her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She could tell that you were being sincere.
She cleared her throat, looking away. “Go to sleep.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” you said, smiling again, arguing just for the sake of it. “Maybe you should get some sleep and I’ll stay up.”
Abby let out an exasperated breath.
She couldn’t help but look at you, sitting on the floor with her in an old trailer like you weren’t the most ethereal thing she’d ever seen. In that dress that looked incredible on you.
It made her wonder what you would look like without it.
She wanted to reach out and touch you. To let her hands lazily travel the same path that her eyes had taken when you first took off that cloak. She wanted to hear the sounds you would make as her fingers grazed your bare skin.
She wanted you.
Her own thoughts surprised her.
Abby hadn’t spent much time thinking about what—or who—she was into in the past. Being with Owen had made sense. He was nice and funny. He made her laugh. He liked her. And her dad loved him. They were young.
But when he kissed her, she’d get this unsettling, jittery, nervous feeling. One that she could never tell if she liked or not. But she always heard people talking about having butterflies in their stomach, so Abby thought maybe that was normal. Still, she was always the first to pull away, always retreating from his touch when things got too… overwhelming.
When her dad died, she didn’t let anyone touch her for the longest time. Owen stuck around, though. He kept trying. They joined the Washington Liberation Front, and Abby felt like that gave her a purpose. She had training to stick to and orders to follow while she continued to listen for word about Joel Miller, any hint about where he could be.
She kept pushing Owen away until, eventually, he let go. Abby could remember the moment she realized it was over, although neither of them came out and said it. It affected her more than she thought it would. She was devastated. Almost like she was losing another part of her dad. Like she was watching every piece of her life crumble and fade away until she was left with something completely unrecognizable.
Then Owen and Mel got together, and things got even weirder. Mel, who had once been one of Abby’s closest friends, started treating her like an enemy. Always looking at her with distrust, pulling Owen away when he tried to talk to her.
It got worse after Jackson. Abby didn’t know if that was because of what happened there or because Mel was pregnant. Probably both.
Abby kept her head down. Threw herself back into the flow of things in Seattle. She focused on making her body strong, following orders, and killing Scars whenever she got the chance.
And sure, sometimes someone caught her eye. Maybe a character in a movie she’d watched with Manny, or someone she’d crossed paths with in the WLF compound. Now that she thought about it, those people were almost always women.
She found those thoughts easy to ignore, so nothing ever came of them. Abby didn’t think she was well-suited for a romantic partnership, after what she did to Owen. She was sure didn’t deserve it. So she always brushed those feelings off and kept moving forward. She had work to do. A city to fight for.
She had known you for just one night and everything was changing. She could feel it happening. Her life was never going to be the same.
She wanted to be good enough for it. She wanted to deserve this change.
So she was going to protect you and your friends. Because it was the right thing to do, and because she really wanted to.
And if that meant she got to keep you close, she wouldn’t complain.
Abby couldn’t fucking believe that she was into a Scar.
But she couldn’t stop looking at you. Your eyes. Your lips. Your body. It was like every piece of you had been hand-crafted for the purpose of driving her crazy. She couldn’t walk away if she tried.
Hell, she did try and she didn’t even make it down the street.
All of this, and you hadn’t even touched her yet. Maybe you never would.
And she didn’t even know your real name.
But it was becoming more and more clear to her that you were a really good person.
Abby wasn’t sure if she was a good person, but she wanted to be. If she hadn’t been before, she could start now.
The door between the rooms creaked open, and Lev’s head poked out. When he saw her sitting there with you, he froze, his eyes narrowing disapprovingly.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked, his eyes remaining on her while he spoke to you.
“She’s going to help us,” you said.
“We don’t need—”
“Yes. We do,” you said firmly.
He let it go, turning to face you. He looked worried, saying nothing.
“Is it Yara? How’s she doing?” you asked, already moving to stand.
Lev just looked down and shook his head. He stepped aside, opening the door further as you rushed into the room to check on her with Abby following close behind.
Yara was on the couch, curled into the fetal position. She was shaking, breathing heavily and unevenly.
Abby watched as you rushed over to the girl, putting your hand to her forehead to check for a fever. The look on your face alone told her it wasn’t good.
Your eyes found her, fearful and unsure of what to do.
She moved in closer, crouching down to be on Yara’s level. “I’m going to move your arm,” she said to the girl. Yara whimpered as Abby carefully adjusted her. “Lean into me.”
Abby picked her up.
“Where are you taking her?” Lev asked, stepping forward.
“C’mon.” She tried to walk past him, heading for the door. He stepped in front of her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m giving her a chance,” Abby insisted, giving him a look that seemed to convince him to move aside and go along with it.
Lev grabbed his bow and quiver. You quickly put on your cloak, grabbed your own weapon, and threw Abby’s backpack over your shoulders.
You followed her back out into the rain.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Note: I had a really good time writing this chapter! I loved that it was mostly just Abby and reader talking and getting to know each other :)
P.S. If you're someone who's been leaving comments on AO3, please know that I love you <3
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goosewriting · 1 day
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One last chance III
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summary: third and final part to one last chance! the long awaited reunion :3 
relationship: Rise!Leo x gn!reader
warnings: mentions of blood
word count: 3.1k
A/N: at long last, here it is! since there’s a bunch of hopping between worlds, i added clarifications for when the story changes into another timeline (NY: new york aka main timeline / KR: krangpocalypse timeline / TR: triceraton world). that way you can differentiate if there’s an actual change of place or if it’s just a time skip! i really hope you like it :’) 
Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you’re here!)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — — 
The very next day, Leo and you gathered the other turtle brothers and Casey at the dinner table to tell them your plan. Mikey would have to open two more portals; one to get the older Leo from Casey’s timeline, and one portal to go place him in the Triceraton world with the other older you. 
You two watched as everyone processed your words, displaying different emotions in their faces. Your gaze fell on Mikey, who furrowed is brows, fidgeting with his fingers.
“I don’t know if I have it in me,” the youngest turtle admitted. Raph placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“It does sound dangerous,” the eldest said.
“I don’t even know how to find those dimensions again,” Mikey added.
“Just do the same thing you were doing last time,” you offered. “What were you thinking about when Leo fell through?”
Mikey scratched his chin as he thought it over.
“I don’t know, dino nuggets?”
“Makes sense,” Leo said with a serious nod. You playfully rolled your eyes.
“How will you find my timeline, though?” asked Casey. 
“With you, actually,” Donnie chimed in, bringing his hands in front of him with touching fingertips. “Your quantum signature should be unique enough to pinpoint it. I’ll build something to amplify Mikey’s powers.” 
“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Leo concluded, placing his hands on the table and standing up. “Let’s get started.”
– – –
Mikey trained with smaller things first, making portals from one room to the other, and catching things mid-air and safely placing them on the ground. Meanwhile, you and Leo prepared a place where older Leo could stay. One portal already took a lot of effort; you didn’t really want to overexert Mikey and have him make two big ones, one right after the other. Also, future Leo might be hurt, so Raph helped you gather supplies for a little first aid kit as well.
The night before the big day, when Mikey would open the first portal, you were way too excited to sleep. You looked over at Leo, both of you in his bed, and it seemed he wasn’t feeling much differently, nervously tapping his fingers on his chest.
“It’s gonna work, right?” he asked in a low voice. 
“I think so, yeah,” you replied genuinely.
“Do you think I- he’ll be… mad?” You propped yourself up on your elbow at his question.
“You’re asking me? Shouldn’t you know better than anyone?” 
“Iunno,” he mumbled, and you gave him a sympathetic smile. 
“Well... If everyone you knew were gone, and you had the chance to spend more time with them, even if they’re technically a different version from another dimension, wouldn’t you want to see them?”
He thought it over for a moment. 
“I think so, yeah,” he replied.
“I know I’d want it too.”
For a moment, you two just looked at each other in the dim light of his room, then a giggle escaped you.
“What?” he asked with a suspicious smile. You sighed, lying back down properly and cuddling into his side.
“It’s like a tragic love story. Two star crossed lovers, promising to find each other in any universe.”
Leo took your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I’d look for you in every universe,” he whispered. You hid face in the pillow with a groan.
“You’re so corny,” you laughed.
“And you love me for it.”
“Hmm, I do,” you said, stretching your neck to place a kiss on his cheek, then went back to getting comfortable.
Finally feeling a little more at ease, sleep slowly started to take over.
“I just hope he’s… still there,” Leo said so lowly you almost missed it. “The way Casey described the future, it was super bleak. I hope nothing happened to–”
“Shush,” you interrupted him, hugging his torso to reassure him. “It will work, I know it.”
“Hmm, yeah. It’ll work.”
With that, you both drifted off to sleep.
– – – [NY]
Donnie had built a hollow box of sorts, big enough to stand in it, with two wires coming out of either side. He put it on the floor, told Casey to step into it, and he activated it with his own nimpo, one wire connecting to Mikey, one to Donnie. The rest of you held onto Mikey’s arms like last time.
“It’s go time,” Donnie said with a wicked smile of sorts as the device started glowing.
– – – [KR]
Leo tried to hold back a pained groan between his pants. He looked at his leg; that’s a lot of blood. That krangified creature had got him good.
He tried getting back to his feet, but his leg gave out under him, and he was back on the ground, leaning onto the broken pieces of what used to be a building, sticking out from the dark sand that had taken over everything, transforming the urban landscape into a wasteland.
This is it, he thought, and bitterly smiled to himself. I’ve had a good run. Wish I had done some things differently, but…
Images of you flooded his mind, his brothers, Splinter, April, Casey… Ah, he really hoped the boy made it.
A  growling noise tore him out of his thoughts, and he saw the creature that had got him in this situation in the first place, approaching him slowly, about to pounce. With a deep exhale, Leo accepted his fate, finding no more fight left in him. He looked at the handle of his sword, now donning three coloured bands.
“Just get it over with!” he called out to the creature. Just as it was crouching down to build up its energy to jump, there was an all too familiar sizzling sound between him and the creature. 
Leo tiredly opened his eyes, and his brows rose in disbelief at what he was seeing. It was one of Mikey’s portals, moving towards him.
“What the—”
He got swept through the portal like a fish getting caught by a landing net. Gone was the coarse sand under him, replaced by something soft and warm and inviting. In front of him, figures he fully believed he’d never get to see again: his brothers, all alive; his younger self, looking at him with the same shock; Casey, and… you.
Mikey collapsed on the ground with a grunt. Raph picked him up and Donnie took them to his lab. Casey stepped out from his little box, which had deactivated the moment the portal disappeared.
“M-master Leonardo?” the boy asked in a mix of disbelief, surprise, and happiness. 
“Casey Junior,” the older Leo greeted him with a tired grin. “You made it.”
“Found the key, stopped the Krang,” Casey replied with the instructions his master had made him repeat back then. As his eyes started welling up with tears, Casey ran up to Leo and hugged him, which earned a groan of pain from the older turtle, but it turned into a chuckle. He hugged him back to the best of his abilities.
That’s when you noticed the turtle’s leg.
“O-oh my goodness, that looks very much not good,” you exclaimed, pointing at the wound covered in blood and debris.
“Yeesh,” younger Leo cringed after following your eyes.
You got to work cleaning up his wounds, disinfecting, and bandaging everything up. Older Leo was too exhausted to protest.
As the three of you were cleaning the grime off of hte turtle with a wet rag, you came to his right shoulder, and what you had thought was a giant glove, slid off slightly. So you took it off to be able to clean him better, except that instead of sliding the garment off his arm, the whole thing came off, leaving only a stubble reaching to just above where his elbow would be. Leo audibly gasped behind you.
“I- you- what happened to your arm?” Leo asked, turning to the boy on the patient’s other side. “Casey, you didn’t tell me I lost a whole arm!”
“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you, and it was for a reason–”
“Guys,” the older turtle interrupted.
Everyone got their attention back to the man on the pile of blankets.
“As much as I’m glad that you’re all okay, what am I doing here?” he questioned, his eyes jumping from Casey, to Leo, to you. 
“Don’t worry about it, just rest up,” Casey instructed.
“Yeah, we have a plan,” you added with a smile. “Just… get your energy back. We’ll explain everything later.”
He was too tired to argue, so he just let himself drift off into the welcoming embrace of sleep, and with a deep exhale, he passed out on the spot.
“Casey, stay with him,” you told the boy. “We’ll check on Mikey.” 
With a nod you instructed Leo to follow you, and you went to the lab, where you found Mikey on a makeshift cot. He was fine, also napping. Donnie assured you he just needed some rest. 
You all took turns for the next several hours to watch over the two; you caught pieces of conversations here and there, depending on whether older Leo was awake and whose turn it was to keep him company. But you tried not to eavesdrop, as you were sure he was telling them important but personal things. The one you were very curious about was the conversation older Leo had with Splinter. It seemed to be very emotional, but you kept your distance to give them some privacy. The boys’ father retired to his room for most of the day after they talked.
When it was your turn to take care of Leo, you brought some food and a change of bandages for his legs. 
“No one’s told me yet what’s going on,” he said after you handed him his food. “They told me it was your idea?”
You were kneeling next to him, and squirmed a little in your seat. 
“Are you sure you want to know now?” you asked, your gaze falling to your lap. “Don’t you want to recover a little more? You’re still in pretty rough shape–”
Leo interrupted you by calling your name. Your eyes darted back up to him and he raised a brow at you as he took a bite of the sandwich. You smiled to yourself. Some things really never change; that’s the same look young Leo would have given you in this situation.
With a sigh of defeat, you told him how after you had had your encounter in the alleyway, your timeline’s Leo had a similar one with an alternate older version of yourself, in a world where a different alien species had invaded Earth, but they were at peace now. Their Leo had died in the process, though.
“So,” you concluded after your retelling. “Leo and I, I mean my Leo, I mean…” You couldn’t help the heat creeping up to your cheeks, and the turtle gave you a knowing smirk. “Me and this world’s Leo; we thought we could help you guys out. You were left alone in a world that had no hope of being saved. And my other self is in a world worth living in, but is missing you. So, you know. 1+1=2 and here you are.”
Older Leo seemed genuinely surprised by your words. Whatever it was he had expected, this was not it. 
“I mean, you’re also free to stay here if you want to,” you offered, pointing over your shoulder. “There’s already Casey, so… I’m sure he’d like it if you stayed.”
“No can do,” Leo said with a sad smile, and you frowned. “I don’t really like the idea of playing with the timelines; my Donnie would have been vehemently against it.” He smiled nostalgically as he looked to the side for a second, then brought his attention back to you. “But in the end, he probably would have come to a similar conclusion. It’s obvious I’m not gonna ask you to bring me back to my timeline…. You were right on time, you know? A moment later and I would have been a goner.”
You gave him a worried look, but he dismissed it with a gesture of his hand.
“But,” he continued. “This isn’t my place to stay, either. I’ll take you up on your offer.” You perked up at that. “A different world at peace sounds pretty nice right about now.”
“From what Leo told me, everyone else seems to be alive there, you know,” you told him as you took out a fresh roll of gauzes from the supply box. “Raph, Mikey and Donnie. I’m sure they all miss you.”
Leo smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich as you started working on his leg. 
“And I miss them.”
“And I know it’s not the same because you won’t have the same memories and stuff–”
“Hey. It’s okay,” he calmed your doubts, holding your hand. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
You merely gave him a nod, your heart racing at the gesture. His hand was so big, his whole presence made you feel so safe; you couldn’t wait to see your Leo keep growing and become the man you had in front of you now.
Not long after, when Mikey started feeling better, you all started preparing Leo’s departure.
– – – [TR]
You were taking your evening stroll through the park as you’d usually do. It had been raining all day though, and the cool wind seemed to make the droplets seep further into your clothes. As per usual, your feet brought you to the memorial statue by themselves, like they always did when you were lost in thought. 
Your grip tightened around your umbrella. It’s been so many years. Maybe it was time to finally let go. This grief was getting you nowhere. Leo wouldn’t want you to waste away like this just because he wasn’t there.
Standing in front of the statue, you let your eyes wander over it, looking at all the little details, discovering some new cracks in the rock. You did your best to keep it clean and all, but time, wind and rain seemed to chip away at it, no matter your efforts. Kind of like you felt, too, you concluded with a defeated sigh. 
Bringing your gaze back to the turtle’s heroic face expression, you tilted your head lightly. Just what were you supposed to do now?
– – – [NY]
Everyone got into position just like for the other portal, but you stayed back this time. You were facing away from where the yellow ring of light would open, as you didn’t want to see your older self.
“You sure you don’t want to see?” Leo asked. “The dinos looked pretty cool?” You chuckled.
“Nah, it’s okay,” you answered, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t need to see other worlds, I have everything I need right here.”
You placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. The turtle wasn’t able to reciprocate, but blushed as he spotted his older self a couple of steps away, giving him a thumbs up. 
– – – [TR]
You took one last look at the statue, some droplets hitting your face in the wind, which was starting to pick up. Just as you meant to turn around to leave, you heard some zaps behind you.
Just like last time, a flurry of yellow lights materialised out of nowhere over the gravel path of the park, expanding and clearing up until you could see through it. Young Leo hopped into your world, calling out to you with relief, as it meant he didn’t have to go look for you.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” he said as he jogged the short distance to where you stood.
“Wha- You’re back?” You were shocked to your bones, as you really thought you would never get to see any Leo ever again. “Why? How?”
“Doesn’t matter, I won’t be long either,” Leo informed you, taking your hand that you had stretched out to him. “I just came to say hi and bring you a gift.”
He let go and stepped aside. From behind him, another figure stepped through the portal. Your hand came to your mouth as you gasped, your umbrella dropping to the ground. 
Mikey groaned from the effort, the glowing yellow cracks expanding further over his arms.
“Hurry it up, guys!” Raph called from the other side of the portal. “Mikey can’t hold it open much longer!”
Turning to you, younger Leo held your hands one last time, and you dragged your eyes from one blue clad turtle to the younger one. 
“Give him the happy ending you both deserved, alright?” he asked, and giving you and older Leo one last hug, he hurried back to the portal, which started becoming more unstable by the second, the zaps threatening to collapse any moment now.
And not a second too soon, younger Leo left the scene, the portal closing right behind him with a loud crackle. 
Leo and you were left alone in the rain, looking at each other and just taking each other in.
“Hey,” Leo spoke first, taking a couple of steps in your direction.
“... Hi,“ you greeted him, your voice almost inaudible, as you looked him up and down repeatedly in disbelief. 
“The kids had a crazy idea and… it worked.”
You let out a shuddering breath, looking at your hands, opening and closing them in an attempt to ground yourself. 
“What timeline are you from?” you finally asked. Leo had to take a moment to think how to even answer that.
“The bad ending, I guess?” he settled on. “One where the world ended. I lost everything.”
He looked up at the statue of himself and smiled.
“This one didn’t lose an arm though, huh.” 
His attempt at lightening the mood was short-lived, as the small smile that had formed on your face disappeared just as quickly.
“No, but he lost everything, too,” you said, your hands clenching into fists as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his warm ones.
“You think I can fill the vacant spot he left open for this world’s coolest Leonardo?”
You couldn’t help but snort this time. 
“Yeah,” you offered, relaxing visibly. “I think he’d be okay with that.”
Leo finally approached you, carefully stroking over your cheek with the back of his hand, and you leaned into the touch. The rain hitting your face mixed with your tears.
“Okaerinasai,” you welcomed him back home as you placed your hand over his. He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours.
“Tadaima.”
— — —
Bonus:
“You think they’ll be okay?” you asked Leo after the portal closed.
“You said it yourself,” he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. “Star crossed lovers: they’ll always find back to each other because they belong together.”
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @DyByNyght, @Lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune
also tagging the people in the comments in the second part who wanted to see a reunion! feel free to ignore 🙈
@koalaray, @catr4dora, @mialettt, @flowerloves, @franbowidk, @warrior-girl, @nessarolla-in-constant-flux, @crystal-crax, @kitkattzz
49 notes · View notes
foreos · 2 days
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the bad kids rated by how much they would like sonic the hedgehog
a sequel to my hatchetfield version
- riz gukgak: 1/10 i don’t think riz even touches video games. i can’t imagine riz having any strong media interests because his life is so busy all the time so i doubt he would think about sonic the hedgehog at all. if he ever played a sonic game though i think he’d be like unnaturally good at it because he’s got great reaction times and it’s not hard for him to intuit what the best routes are. he’d probably only play in like a social situation though.
- kristen applebees: 10/10 kristen grew up playing sonic games with her brothers and she likes them. sonic is very very good for adhd brains and i think she likes running around really really fast. fucking AWFUL at the games though she has a dexterity score of four. she has never passed a quicktime prompt in her life but that does not stop her from booting up the games and playing the first three or so levels. doesn’t really engage with the media past the games but that’s just because if she had a comic book she’d lose it and while she watched some of the cartoons as a kid, it’s been a long time. probably hasn’t played in years.
- adaine abernant: 10/10 she did not know what sonic was until freshman year and at first she did not see the appeal. she’s never been allowed plain and stupid fun in her entire life and when confronted with it she’s just like…why? but i think as time passes i could actually see adaine really fucking enjoying it if she decided to suspend her disbelief and embrace it. i think in another timeline adaine is much geekier but much like the other bad kids she currently does not have time for that. there’s an alternate universe where adaine is a comic book nerd with sonic opinions but i don’t think any of us are ready for that. there’s probably other franchises she would possibly like better but i think she could get really into it.
- gorgug thistlespring: 0/10 video games frustrate him. his fingers are too big for the buttons and sonic moves way too fast. like kristen he cannot get past the first few levels and so he and sonic don’t really see eye to eye. he wouldn’t say he hates the guy or has anything against the franchise but he would probably rather do, like, anything else.
- fig faeth: 10000/10 i think fig would like it. while it does not match her aesthetic i think she definitely grew up with sonic games as a kid and is pretty good at them. definitely had to beat video game levels for gilear growing up. as i said earlier with kristen, sonic is very good for adhd brain and i think she likes to build as much speed as she can, plus sonic music is fucking dope and i think fig is a fan of stupid fun. sometimes fig finds herself wishing that he would go even faster, though.
- fabian seacaster: -100000/10 he’s scared of rodents and obsessed with being cool fabian does not like sonic. yes, i know sonic is not a rodent but like. fabian does not care that is a walking talking blue rat with one weird eyeball that has two pupils and he is wearing NO clothes. plus, sonic is considered deeply lame by the general public, especially high schoolers, so fabian would not be caught dead in even the same room where sonic-related activities are occurring. fabian goes out of his way to avoid any and all sonic media, which is a shame because when fabian was a kid bill seacaster impulsively bought Every Video Game so there’s probably a completed sonic collection somewhere in fabian’s house. like i think fabian owns sonic chronicles and tails’s sky patrol and sonic labyrinth and he has no idea. in another life fabian is a shadow fan.
BONUS:
- ragh barkrock: 1/10, like gorgug and riz he’s just not really a video game guy.
- ayda aguefort: 1000000000/10 she would fucking love it. she would love it so so so much. much like adaine i think ayda would be extremely geeky in another, less stressful life and i think if fig introduced her to it she would be all fucking in. comics tv shows video games, all of it. i think ayda would eat that shit up.
- cassandra: 10/10 blaze reminds her of kalina and she thinks it’s fun and i am desperate for cassandra to have fun.
- aelwyn: 0/10 absolutely not. she agrees with fabian that sonic is creepy and should wear clothes. she tries not to think about it, ever.
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rosvyy · 2 days
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cute lil "no longer you" analysis
Ok guys so like we know how the oracle works? Yeah yeah yeah, they say smth and no matter what you do, it will come true because of what you do. However, there are different pathways obvs. So tiresias is like, "Yeah theres a lot of your journeys, odysseys if you will, and there are good an bad endings. I know there is a good ending here for you, but I dont know it here, it isnt yours." HOWEVER it could change. It isnt set in stone yet. He sings the prophecy. He sings what is most likely going to happen from this moment onwards, how in the musical Eurylochus stands up and is killed 'a brothers final stand' and the 'sacrifice of man' being scylla and how odysseus didnt do anything to prevent the death of the men. I think the 'last breath' is in reference to "Get in the Water" but it could also be when he washes up on Claypsos shore, although I doubt it cause thats a stretch. Cause like... yeah no. Odysseus is like "Hold on. No thats not fair. We have been well, we have been using other means instead of violence so we can be fair, this ISNT fair! Then Tiresias goes on to recite more of this version of the prophecy, how Penelope will be reunited with a man who isnt anything like Odysseus is. NOW this is where it matters imo. This prophecy differs so heavily from the book, but in the book there is a choice. He tells the men to not eat any cattle they come across or else they will suffer from it and Odysseus will arrive home much later than what he would like. The option of choice is still there, eat the cattle or do not. Odysseus being doomed by the narrative has this choice screwed by his crew, but it was still presented to him none the less. Epic doesnt go this route on a surface listen. There is no clear choice but the indication is still there. After Tiresia has finished the current prophecy, it comes down to Odysseus to place how the story will go. He could either "greet the world with open arms" and try beg Tiresia to tell him the other worlds and other prophecy's, or he could go down the path the Gods favour of anger and suffering. Upon hearing his wife is with a man "with a trail of bodies", he screams "who" with such desperation and anger which the audience has never heard before. Without even saying so, it has implemented and foreshadowed the vengeance and anger he holds to this man who has taken his wife. This is dramatic irony to the audience who knows what will happen, how he turns into this man. He doesnt hate him, he becomes him, so that he can seek vengeance on who Tiresia described. It also can be interpreted from the lines already presented by Tiresia that the man is Odyssesy, as his crew, the 558 men who died, trail behind him as 'the past is always close behind'. A trail of bodies which he met only a song prior to "no longer you". The "Who" line which Odysseus screams cements his fate, the anger and choice of bitterness athena steered him to and Poseidon reimplemented being chosen over the advice his dead friend gave him. This is when Tiresias repeats the first verse, the repetition illustrating how that world now is this world. It cements that there is no change to be done, Odysseus path will end in a trail of bodies which is greater than the one he already bears, and the sacrifices he must make in order to reunite with his wife while becoming something akin to the Devine whilst staying mortal, a monster.
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luvcryo · 2 days
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Obey Me! Cooking HC's [Dateables vers!]
Obey me! Dateables x Chef!GN!Reader (Luke is platonic ofc!)
Not proofread, all of them could probably be read as platonic
[Brothers Version]
Barbatos
-He's glad there's another competent chef around
-He refuses to let you cook alone when your at the castle
-Even though he deserves a break he insists on helping you
-He understands that cooking is different in devildom compared to earth
-He's the one to go to if you're learning new recipes with ingredients from devildom
Simeon
-Also one to praise you all the time
-He's your biggest fan tbh
-His biggest love language is quality time and what better way to spend time with one you love than to cook with them
-If you two are alone in purgatory hall (you refuse to cook when solomon is there in fear the might ask to help) then he'll turn on some music and just cook with you
-Like Luke, he prefers to bake but he'll make anything you want as long as your happy with it
Diavolo
-He can get you any ingredient you need
-You want some random human ingredient that they don't have in devildom? He'll get it for you.
-Found some strange (probably cursed) recipie that calls for some obscure dangerous ingredient? He actually already has it!
-Its totally not because he overheard you talking about it and immediately ordered someone to get it.
-He never really had to cook for himself so he's not very good bit he knows the basics
Solomon
-As we all know, he's an awful cook
-You tried helping him once against the brother's warnings and it still was just bad
-He's cursed
-He will always ask to help, but if you just keep him away from the food and ask him to wash dishes or something it usually turns out fine
-Give him a few sweet words, tell him he deserves a break and that you'll do all the cooking, and he won't touch anything
Luke
-He LOVES teaching you about recipes from the celestial realm
-Horrible at explaining how to make things but that doesn't matter cause he's adorable doing it!!
-He gets so excited when he gets to "teach" other people
-He prefers to bake but he enjoys cooking as well
-He always says he wants to be as good as you eventually
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enemyanemonee · 2 days
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Chris is reaped but Eddie is over the age limit so he can't volunteer for him. Buck is from another district but is moved by Eddie's attempt to save Chris on tv, feels like he has nothing waiting for him - his parents don't care, maddie is gone with doug - so he decides to protect Chris in the games (i have this very specific mental picture of Buck picking up Chris as soon as the canon goes off and running - picture the scene where he runs from the tsunami with Chris). They survive until there's only one other person left, Buck kills that person but not before a knife hits Chris in the chest like Rue. Buck defies the capitol by saying that he will kill himself if they don't save Chris immediately. They both survive. Buck and Eddie meet after and become best friends and fall in love (slow burn). In the quarter quell, both Eddie and Buck go back into the arena. The rest of the team is either a previous winner or part of the resistance.
Buck wins the games alone and only meets Eddie after. Eddie is a previous winner, he volunteered for Chris two years ago and is very famous bc of that. Eddie and the rest of the team are secretly part of the resistance and when Buck starts his new life being paraded around as a victor he's slowly introduced to the resistance while also being used as a pawn in the Capitol's games.
A more traditional version: Eddie is Peeta (Shannon is Katniss?) and Buck is Finnick (in the sense that he's the Capitol's pretty boy that is "rented" to whoever the president wants). Eddie and Shannon win the games together using the berries trick, and then have to prove they're in love but actually their relationship is very complicated and becomes even worse after the games. Buck falls for Eddie pretty quick but Eddie is still in in his mess with Shannon. They all end up in the arena for the quarter quell but Shannon dies (or not?). If Shannon dies, Eddie vows to destroy President Snow for her, becomes the mockingbird in her place.
I like all three of these options and I can't decide which one to go with. All of them would be buddie endgame, of course. It would be interesting, if I wrote them like the 100K word behemoth they are just begging to be, to include Buck/Tommy as Buck's bi awakening and other plotlines from the show. I just don't wanna write something that is literally the plot of the books (Eddie and Buck as Katniss and Peeta)
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cilil · 2 days
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rare pair bingo
⸙ Prompt: Spin the bottle | Caranthir x Finrod ⸙ Synopsis: Caranthir hates party games. Finrod may be able to change his mind. ⸙ Warnings: Cousins kissing (in case you weren't aware) ⸙ Quadrupe drabble
Whoever had come up with this silly game, Carnistir didn't remember, but he knew he loathed them for it. 
First his brothers had dragged him to this strange, semi-secret meeting of various young Elven lords and ladies, attended by their cousins as well, and then he had been forced to participate in whichever asinine activities came to mind. 
The game in question was based on the simple and rather witless premise of sitting around an empty bottle placed on the floor which was spun around to determine the group's next victim, and it had steadily been devolving from demanding the disclosure of personal secrets and completing embarrassing little tasks to a plain and direct "who kisses who" version. 
Findaráto was favoured not only by the vast majority of attendants, but also the bottle itself, as it seemed. Smiling and casting down his gaze in faux coyness, he had just received a kiss from Turukáno — further contributing to Carnistir's foul mood — and was getting ready for another round. With a flurry of tinkling golden bracelets, he spun the bottle. 
Carnistir stared at it, more out of boredom than out of genuine interest. He was entranced by the candlelight reflecting off the glass until the bottle became slower and slower and eventually stopped, pointing at none other than–
"Moryo!" Tyelkormo exclaimed way too loudly, startling his younger brother out of his trance. "Moryo finally gets a kiss!" 
There were a few polite laughs and giggles at what was supposed to be a joke. Carnistir glared at him, irate, but was soon distracted when Findaráto practically crawled through the middle of the circle to reach him. 
Now on all fours in front of him, his attention was mercilessly drawn to his fair-haired cousin and that mesmerising green eyes of his, like sparkling jewels adorning a precious golden statue. Carnistir gulped, not knowing what to say. Should he decline? No, that would be cowardly. Should he make the first move? He knew not. 
Fortunately, Findaráto did it for him. A simple, lighthearted, "Hello, Moryo" was all he said before cupping his cheeks and leaning in to press his lips against his.  He was warm, soft and tasted like sweet wine, Carnistir noticed. Yet by far the most surprising thing was that, despite the hooting around them and the suboptimal situation, he found that he enjoyed it — so much so that he kissed him back.
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Thanks for reading! ♡
taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii
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velvet4510 · 8 hours
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Perhaps I’m reading this the wrong way, but one of the countless reasons why I prefer the book version of Faramir is that I think his book characterization more strongly depicts the positive impact that his big brother had on him. Despite their mother’s absence and their father’s cruelty, Faramir always had Boromir as his support system growing up. So the fact that book-Faramir still has a good bit of self-esteem - and isn’t desperate to prove himself to Denethor like film-Faramir is - is a testament to Boromir’s success in gifting Faramir with that invaluable sense of self-worth. In Faramir’s young childhood mind, “Mom went away too soon to leave much of an impact, Dad is always mean and nothing is ever enough for him…but big brother says I’m enough, and big brother is the best person in the whole world, so he must be right, and I AM enough.”
Maybe I’m mistaken and I should be considering other factors in book-Faramir’s strong self-possession, but I firmly believe that one of the factors in the film’s massive mischaracterization of Faramir is it does not reflect that Faramir indeed grew up with a loving support system in the form of Boromir that helped him to realize his worth didn’t have to be defined by Dad’s approval.
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in1-nutshell · 22 hours
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In a Nutshell summary: In Tfa Lugnut's brother, What's the Cons' reaction to Lugnut's brother comes back from the other dimension, and also talks about Skyline and Silver Aid?
When Skyline's come back from Silver Aid's, does he tell to the Cons about his visit, especially to Megatron and Blackarachnia
Haven't seen these Buddy's in a hot minute, lets see what we can do!
Also Lugnut's younger brother's canon name is Bumper
In a nutshell...
When Bumper comes back from his dimension travels, he immediately goes on about the bots his met.
Too bad for him, literally everyone thinks that he fell down the cliff or somewhere higher and hit his helm.
All of it sounds to ridiculous.
What do you mean there's a nice version of Starscream out there?
Even if it is his 'twin', there would be no way they would be related, hypothetically speaking.
And this talk about a different, nicer version of Blackarachnia?
Keep dreaming.
Lugnut has the Cybertronian version of a Baby camera on Bumper for a couple weeks before the team convinces him to take it off.
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When Skyline comes back to his dimension however, everyone wants to know how Silver Aid is doing and if he saw Bumper too.
Sky defiantly catches a bit of disappointment in hearing that Silver if off limits with another version of himself.
Is it possible to be jealous of yourself?
Lugnut is particularly upset in not hearing any news on Bumper but he guesses there would be another time to see into that, right now Megatron is top priority.
Starscream watches his twin like a hawk for the next few weeks.
Sky is also no longer allowed near the Constructicons or their inventions without Starscream and another Con with him.
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sstarmoon · 1 day
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There were only three people that Regulus had let see the most vulnerable and weakest part of him; Sirius, James and Remus.
— Remus was his best friend, the person he trusts completely. With whom he could spend hours and hours reading in silence and would never get tired or feel uncomfortable. Regulus knew that he could tell Remus anything. That he was, in some way, his platonic soulmate. Remus was the person with whom he could be completely calm, the person with whom he understood without having to speak.
When he looked at Remus he couldn't help but see himself; a different version of him. And Regulus couldn't help but smile when thinking about that. He really loved Remus, he was a very important person in his life. He would risk anything for him.
— Sirius was his brother, the person he loves most in the world, the person who was there for him since he was born. Regulus loved Sirius in a way that no one could understand, only they knew how much they needed each other. If Sirius, for some reason, stopped being there for Regulus; a very large part of him would be empty, dead. It was a connection, a bond, a type of love that only brothers share.
By blood or heart, whatever; they were stars of the same constellation. Children of the same mother. Victims of a shared pain.
And Regulus needed his big brother so much. His care, his comfort. Cry in his arms and know that everything was going to be okay, that his big brother was there for him. Regulus could be small, weak child who cried and trembled in his older brother's arms, paralyzed with fear; or an lost, scared adult, fearing like a little child, and yet he would always feel protected in Sirius' arms. Because Sirius had seen the worst and the best of him, and he still was proud of his little brother.
And even if for a period of time he couldn't say it, even if for a period of his life was hard to admit it, Sirius would give his life for his baby brother. And Regulus loved Sirius so, so much. Regulus wouldn't be the person he is if it weren't for his big brother.
— James was the love of his life, his soulmate. Regulus lives for him and would die for him. James was his everything. He adored every part of James as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world, and he was.
Every time he looked into James' dark brown eyes he couldn't help but think about how the man in front of him had no idea how much he loved him.
It was cute to know that James thought exactly the same.
But even if James told him a thousand times that he loved him with all his being, Regulus would never believe him. Not completely, at least. Because Regulus would never believe that James could love him as much as he loved him, because what Regulus felt was so strong that it was almost painful.
There was no human way, no words enough, no actions possible that could show how much Regulus loved that man.
James was the sun to his star, the day to his night.
Regulus never knew what it was like to feel loved, complete, before he met James. And sometimes it was frustrating not having the words to say it. An I love you was not enough, an I love you was nothing compared to what Regulus felt.
Sometimes Regulus just wanted to grab James' face and scream, because jeez, he loved him so much that it crossed the line to the opposite side. He sometimes wanted to punch his stupid, handsome face for forcing him to love him more than anyone could love.
James was an idiot, and god, Regulus loved him so much that he cried once a month thinking about it. Regulus loved him so much he fucking hated him, because, how could an idiot like James Potter make his whole world his?
Everyone revolved around the sun, no one could avoid it. It was so bright and warm, gravity was pulling them towards it.
But Regulus was completely his.
James didn't know the power he had over Regulus and sometimes he scared himself thinking about how much control James had over his emotions.
James Fleamont Potter had no idea that he had next to him an idiot who would die and kill in each one of his lives to spend just one with him.
And Regulus had no idea that James would tear his heart out of his chest and hand it to his worst enemy if it meant he could see Regulus' beautiful eyes looking back at his one more day.
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