A Clown🤍

Omg im 25!

[turningtoclown]

I sincerely wanted to thank all of the authors that has been writing fanfic in Tumblr. and if y'all happened to see me commenting or rebloging or liking your post I am genuinely obsessed with your writing and you should probably write whole fully thicccccc book. I will forever be grateful for your talent and for whisking me into a world where I can be anything, with anyone, and literally be everything I wanted. you have no idea how many times y'all have save me from my own thoughts and I'll forever be grateful for your impact in my life. y'all are the real MVP and I will cherish you. sending hugs <3

ps: please write more and don't stop! (no pressure of course)

p.p.s: I will forever hold you on a pedestal and will think yall a superior writer(and you are! I don't want to hear y'all saying you're not!) because honestly I cried sm on this app :")

[regulus-blacks-lover]

in for a good crying session so i’d looove to see how prompts 43 & 27 would break me :’) im thinking sirius but whatever sparks the creative juices!! thank you lovely :>

43 “i’m right here. right here with you.” 27 “you had your chance.”

reader x sirius black, 1,152 words warnings: main character death, very sad and angsty, not proofread

prompt list

a/n: oh my god i'm so sorry this turned out so sad?? i had a second idea that's still sad but no death involved if you'd prefer - but i went with the needing to cry type of vibe for now. lmk if you want a redo w these prompts lol

You and Sirius had been living in hiding together for nearly two years, on the run from Voldemort's forces. Despite the danger that lurked around every turn, it wasn't all bad. You found warm places to sleep, and when there was nowhere warm to go, you held onto each other more closely than you already did.

"Do you think things will ever go back to how they used to be?" You asked him one night, both of you laying awake, unable to sleep.

In the darkness, you could just make out the rise and fall of his chest as he contemplated your question. "I'm not sure." He said honestly. "I'd like to think so, I miss our friends, I miss our life... But I'm just not sure."

"I miss our friends too." You whispered.

Beneath the thin blanket, he grasped your hand, threading his warm fingers into your own. "I'm glad you are here with me." He said, bringing your fingers to his lips and pressing a kiss to each one.

"You're not too shabby for an end of the world companion." You said quietly.

A few days later, you were standing guard outside what you hoped was an abandoned house in a muggle neighborhood. Sirius was inside, putting up protective wards around the place. He'd always acted like an idiot at school, but at the end of the day you trusted his protective enchantments much more than your own.

You were allowing yourself to get lost in memories of the days before you'd been on the run, back when you'd had weekly dinners with your friends- back when you and Sirius had dreamed of getting married. Before your dreams became mere survival.

Suddenly you felt it. A chill in the air as all the hair on your body raised. And then he was there. Voldemort, pale and cloaked in a long black robe. He was flanked by two Death Eaters. Behind them floated three ghostly figments. Dementors.

Your stomach filled with lead. You'd barely reached for your wand when it flew out of your hand. The two Death Eaters grabbed you by either arm, dragging you towards Voldemort and the dementors.

You kicked and flailed and pushed against their grasp, but their combined strength was too much for you, especially with the hopeless pull of the dementors in the air.

Voldemort grasped your face, his unnaturally long fingers digging into your skin. "Where is he?"

He didn't have to specify who he was looking for. You already knew. Sirius. His brother, already part of Voldemort's forces. It was rumored that Voldemort longed to have control over both of the Black brothers.

You set your jaw. You wouldn't let Voldemort use you to get to Sirius.

"Where is he?" He asked again. When you still didn't answer, Voldemort sighed theatrically and released his grip on your face. The Death Eaters still held your arms tightly.

"I did try to be civil, Y/N." He said with a sigh. "Do try to remember that."

He nodded at his henchmen and they released you. For a moment, you didn't understand. But the Voldemort was pointing his wand at you and saying, "Crucio."

Your knees buckled and you fell to the pavement, writhing in pain. You fought every instinct telling you to scream or beg for mercy.

"Crucio!" The cold voice came again.

You were on your side now, hands clawing at the pavement as if you could crawl away from the pain he was inflicting on you. Tears flowed down your face and you were panting from the effort to avoid screaming.

The curse came a third time. "Crucio!"

And you couldn't hold back any longer. "Stop! Please stop it!" You screamed.

Your vision was fading in and out as pain continued to rack your body. You heard someone behind you laughing, and then the sound of a scuffle.

And then - your heart lurched. "Stop! Let her go!" Came Sirius's anguished voice. You forced yourself to look up. The Death Eaters had him by the arms. He was fighting them with every ounce of strength he had, and for a moment you thought he'd be able to break free of their grip, but then there came a sharp tug in your hair. Voldemort was pulling you upwards by their grasp your scalp. He forced you to your feet only to press the tip of his wand harshly against your throat.

Your head was forced back so all you could see was the dark sky above, but from the sound of it, Sirius had stopped fighting. "Please. Let her go. I'll do anything." He begged.

"Sirius, Sirius." Voldemort tutted. "I don't plan to ask the world of you. I just need one favor. Consider it an exchange, really. Join me, and I'll let her live. Your brother has disappointed me, see you don't do the same."

"Sirius" You whimpered, Voldemort's wand still against your neck. "Sirius, it's okay." The wand was pressed deeper into your skin as fresh tears began to spill down your face.

"No." You heard him say brokenly. "I can't– I won't–"

"It's okay." You said again.

Voldemort sniffed. "Pathetic. See how little you mean to him? I ask one favor and he can't even do it, even if it would mean saving your precious life."

The pressure at your throat lifted, but your relief was short lived as Voldemort gestured to the dementors. They swooped in on you faster than you would have believed. They were pulling you apart, eating your joy, even before Voldemort stepped away from you.

You were vaguely aware of voices beyond the hurricane of dark and cold that surrounded you.

"Please! Please stop it! I'll do anything, anything you ask!" Sirius's voice was frantic and full of desperation.

"You had your chance to save her, and you didn't. Now you must live with the consequences." Voldemort said.

You were so cold. Your hands had grown numb and your teeth were chattering uncontrollably. You were aware of your body falling to the ground, but you didn't feel the pain as you hit the pavement. And then everything went black.

"I'm right here. Right here with you." A distant voice. Familiar. Sirius. It was Sirius, and it sounded like he was crying. Why was he crying?

You couldn't see him. You couldn't see anything. You were floating away.

A sudden image flashed through your mind; Sirius, holding a broken, limp body. Holding you.

He was cradling your dead body in his arms, whispering over and over "I'm right here. Please don't leave me. Please come back."

But you couldn't. No matter how you tried, you couldn't force that living piece of yourself back into that body.

Cruel laughter sounded, but Sirius didn't pay it any mind. He just kept holding what had once been you.

"I love you." You thought, before every trace of you vanished from existence.

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 6)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.1k

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received in canon), racism/bigotry, swearing x a million cuz it's Remus' POV, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, only to have you snatched out from under him again?

“Where the FUCK is she?”

The headmaster calmly placed his teacup back on its saucer as the two men came barging into his office.

“Ah, Mr. Black. Mr. Lupin. Please, take a seat.” 

So, Sirius did; he took the seat, and he threw it at the wall.

“I am not fucking around old man. Where. Is. She? Where is Y/N?” He barked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Sirius stopped in his pacing.

“You don’t know!?” Remus repeated incredulously.

Dumbledore nodded.

Sirius picked up a spinning orb from the headmaster’s desk and sent it careening to the window. The windows – the damned things – were charmed not to break, but the orb did. As pieces of crystal shattered and scattered onto the floor, many sleeping portraits of previous headmasters began waking. A few stayed behind to watch the spectacle, whilst many left to find other portraits to haunt for the time being. 

“That’s not good enough.” Sirius fumed.

With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore righted the chair Sirius had thrown. “Why don’t you have a seat, son?”

“I am not your fucking son!” He shouted back, kicking the seat over again.

“Mr. Lupin, why don’t you encourage your friend here to calm down?” The portrait of a previous headmistress asked condescendingly. 

“Get fucked, ma’am.” Was his muttered response.

With a huff, the headmistress decided to leave as well. 

“I am so sick of being played like some pawn in this gods-awful game of yours! We are children! You fucking groomed us as students and enlisted us right out of the gates, fattening us up like cattle for slaughter!”

“Now, Mr. Black-”

“I’M NOT DONE.” Sirius roared. 

Dumbledore shifted his eyes to Remus, who kept his gaze firmly on him.

“You – you’re supposed to be this powerful wizard with years of experience. You defeated that Grindel-fuck back in the sodding dark-ages or whenever, yet somehow, this is out of your wheelhouse!?”

“Mr. Black, everyone learned from the Global Wizarding World with Grindelwald; Tom Riddle how to cheat death, and myself to enlist the help of others.” Dumbledore said.

“But you didn’t get help! You got soldiers, and we’re the ones fighting this fucking war for you! You get to sit here in this bloody castle with powerful ancient wards protecting you, drinking your tea, wanking to the portraits of the other headmasters in your spare time, while the rest of us get their fucking heads blown off!

“We’re the ones being captured. We’re the ones being tortured. We’re the ones being killed. We’re the ones with blood on our hands fighting for our fucking lives, everyday! Bouncing from safe-house to safe-house whilst never being safe. And you know! You’ve known there was a spy, you’ve had contacts on the other side, but you give us nothing. You just send us off on these fucking missions, blind, and we all have to hope that that’s enough. That we’ll live to see another day. That we’ll make it home to our loved ones.”

Sirius paused to catch his breath. “You will not get away with using her like this, not anymore, not by me.”

Dumbledore’s crystal blue eyes bore into Sirius’ stormy grey ones. After a few moments, he offered him a subtle nod. 

“Where is she?” He repeated, quieter this time.

“Sirius, the truth is that I do not know.”

Sirius groaned. “How can you not know!? Fine, fine. Who is your contact? Apparently, someone who was in league with the Black’s for the stupid fucking house-elf to betray me like this. So, who is it? Narcissa? Finally tired of the bleach fumes from that husband of hers? It can’t be Bellatrix.” 

Dumbledore pursed his lips as he considered Sirius.

“It’s not Bellatrix, is it?” He asked in quiet disbelief. 

“No, son, it is not Bellatrix.”

“’Kay well, tell me who it is, then. Reg’s dead so you’re leaving me with dear old Cissy here.” 

Dumbledore leaned onto his forearms on his desk as he peered at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles. 

“A house-elf will always be the most loyal to the head of the house it serves.” 

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, well my house-elf just up and fucked-off with the love of my life so I’d say his loyalty doesn’t exactly align with...me...” He trailed off as something seemed to dawn on him. 

“Unless I’m not the head of the house.” 

Remus’ neck snapped as he whipped his head to regard his friend. 

“The deed and the vault at Gringotts were all moved to you, Sirius, you’re the head of the house.” 

Sirius never pulled his gaze away from the headmaster. “Goblins can be tricked, and deeds can be forged.” He whispered. “But house-elf magic...” 

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair. 

“But Regulus is dead. He was pronounced dead – your mother offed herself because he was pronounced dead.” Remus argued. 

“He was assumed dead.” Dumbledore corrected.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sirius breathed. 

“Regulus has been in contact with me since this past spring. It appears that Miss. L/N was the turning point for him in this war.”

Sirius stared in bafflement. “What do you...” 

“You may, one day, need to discuss with your brother. However, what he explained to me,” Dumbledore started. “Is that he had discovered Riddle’s secret of the horcruxes after becoming increasingly disenchanted by his rhetoric. He was intent on defeating Riddle himself, but came to me when he found Y/N.” 

The colour drained from Remus’ face. “You knew? All this time.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to the lycanthrope. 

“You knew!?” He repeated.

“You must understand, I could not remove her from Riddle’s ranks without rousing suspicion from the other Death Eaters who knew she was there. We were also becoming increasingly aware of a spy within our ranks and could not jeopardize the intel by alerting the Death Eaters of our own spy.” 

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Sirius cried out. “You let her suffer there so you could keep the upper hand!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Fuck that!” Sirius barked. “Fuck that and fuck you!”

“You do not understand how differently this could have all played out without her, Sirius.” 

Remus scoffed. “Oh the ‘could’s’, professor, really? We can sit here until our dying breath discussing all of the fucking could’s that could have taken place from the beginning of fucking time itself and it would mean nothing.” 

“I don’t care what could have happened.” Sirius interjected. “You should have protected her. Protected all of us.” 

Dumbledore looked between his two former students as he seemed to come to some kind of decision. 

“The five horcruxes that Y/N brought us have been destroyed. I do not want to give Riddle time to realize that they are gone. I have discussed with our allies what will need to happen next.” Dumbledore stated.

“And what will need to happen next, professor?” Sirius sneered. 

“It appears that Mr. Pettigrew told Riddle he would be the secret keeper by their next meeting.” Dumbledore said as Sirius swallowed bile rising in his throat. “I believe it would be best to lure Riddle out when he does not feel the need for an army.” 

Remus leaned forward in his chair. “How do we do that?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. “It would be best if Riddle remained unaware of our knowledge of Peter.”

“I think he’s going to figure it out when he misses their next club meeting.” Sirius scoffed. 

“Unless he goes.” Remus murmured. 

“Over my dead body do we release that rat bastard.” Sirius growled. 

“I agree, Mr. Black, I do not believe we should entrust Peter. However, there may be another way.”

Sirius looked at Dumbledore blankly. “Tell me, headmaster, do you plan on breaking out some unforgiveables? Because short of imperio, I’m not sure-”

“Polyjuice.” Remus blurted.

Sirius whipped his head to his friend in shock, whilst a twinkle of pride appeared in Dumbledore’s eye. 

“We could keep up the ruse.” Remus explained. 

“I’ll go.” Sirius claimed.

Remus groaned. “Pads, do you really think you’re the best person for this job?”

Sirius looked at Remus with a look of ill-hidden betrayal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sirius, this is the most sensitive mission possibly anyone will ever have to take. You are passionate but you have a tendency to go in guns blazing and this is not the setting.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Sirius argued.

“You are going to hear and see things that will infuriate and you will not be able to react. You will have to put your morals aside.” 

“Rem, honestly, I grew up with the pureblood bullshit, I can handle it.” Sirius insisted.

“It nearly killed you, Pads. I was there when you showed up at the Potter’s.”

“Remus, I’m going.”

“Perhaps it should be me.” Remus stated as if Sirius hadn’t said anything at all.

“Are you insane?”

“Obviously the answer to that is yes but listen: no one would be able to use legillimency on me due to lunar magic, I stand a better chance at keeping a level head, and I’m perhaps just a touch less emotionally invested in this than you are.” Remus argued.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’ve spent my entire life pretending that I’m not a monster. I’m sure I can pretend to be one for a little bit.”

“You’re not a monster.” Sirius sighed.

Remus gave him a sad smile. “See? I’ve fooled you all.”

Dumbledore hummed. “I think Mr. Lupin may be right, Sirius. Perhaps you should trust him with this.”

“Of course I trust him, but-” Sirius started, turning to look at Remus. “I can’t lose you too.” He admitted quietly.

Though the sentiment caused a twinge of pain in Remus’ chest, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to razz his mate. “Awe, Pads. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.” He cheeked as he pinched Sirius’ arm. 

“Oh, sod off you wanker.” Sirius muttered and crossed his arms. 

“I suppose it’s settled.” Dumbledore claimed. “Please await my correspondence with further instructions.”

October 29th

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” James could be heard muttering as he paced the family room of 12 Grimmauld Place. 

“Why isn’t Dumbledore doing this himself?” Lily muttered darkly. 

“I’m not leaving Y/N in his hands, not again.” Sirius murmured into his hand as he stared at the fire. “It should be me going. Remus, I should go.” 

With a sigh, Remus stood from the wingback chair. “No, Pads. It’s too late to change the plan now. It’s going to be fine.”

Sirius shook his head and looked at the ceiling. 

“She’s fucking strong, Sirius. And she’s got more people on her side this time. We’re gonna finish this.” Remus pressed.  

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and everyone took a steadying breath. 

“Be careful, Rem.” Lily tearfully murmured as she gave him a hug. 

“I hate this.” James repeated just as quietly as he too hugged the lycanthrope. 

Remus smiled at them both before he moved to Sirius, who had shifted his gaze back to the fire. 

“We’re close, Pads.” He whispered.

Sirius nodded, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Thank you, Moony. For going after her.”

“She’s pack.” Remus said simply causing Sirius to let out a shuddering breath.

“Be careful.”

Remus nodded in agreement and took a swig from his pocket flask. He grunted slightly as he felt his body shifting and changing, but it was nothing close to the pain he experienced every full moon. 

Sirius, Lily, and James all looked in various levels of disgust as Remus – now in the form of Peter Pettigrew – stood to his full height. “How do I look?”

The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before turning back to Remus...Peter?

“Fuck, this is weird.” James muttered.

“Yeah, honestly mate, I think you should go.” Sirius agreed.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not actually him, right?”

Lily grimaced. “Yeah, yeah Judas. Get going.” 

Sirius and James looked at her inquisitively, but Remus snorted a laugh offering everyone a wave as he stepped into the street. He walked a short distance to a hidden alleyway where he could apparate to the location of the Death Eater meeting. Remus sent one silent prayer to any god who’d listen. 

Please let this go smoothly. 

 Lestrange Manor loomed dauntingly in front of Remus as he tried to muster the courage to walk up the brick path leading to the door. Purebloods and their gaudy houses he mused silently.

“Petty-Pettigrew!” A voice sing-songed behind him, causing him to turn. 

Barty Crouch Jr skipped towards him merrily as if he were an alt-punk Dorothy on his way to Oz. He paused in front of Remus and tapped his cheek twice, slightly too hard to be considered just condescending and bordering on aggressive. “How’s our favourite little rat?”

Remus grimaced but tried to play it off as a smile. “Er, I’m-”

“Oh, Salazar. No, I don’t actually care.” Barty chuckled, looking back at his entourage like can you believe this guy? His friendly façade fell as he turned back to Remus. “Better have something for the Dark Lord today, otherwise we’ll find other uses for our little lab rat.” He finished with a slimy wink as he continued up the path to the manor. 

Well, Remus thought, welcome to Hell, I suppose. 

He followed Barty The Deranged and company up the walkway, fighting the urge to hum: We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz as he went.

If Remus thought the outside of Lestrange Manor was counteracting the anti-depressants coursing through his system, the inside of it made him want to grab the closest silver fork and end it all. He walked along what had to be a fourty-foot table trying to find the best seat before he realized that this was the wrong approach – every seat was terrible.

“Don’t be absurd, Pettigrew.” Mulciber sneered at Remus. “A lowly like you stands at the back.”

Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded, moving to stand near the wall by the door. At least I’ll be close if I need a quick exit. He also fought the biting urge to lunge at the sight of Fenrir Greyback. You’re here for a reason, Lupin.

Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the...Remus didn’t know what the hell purebloods wont to call rooms like this...a grand room? A dining room? A reception hall? Whatever it was called, it fucking sucked, and it sucked worse when those three walked in. The brothers mostly regarded themselves with proper decorum, but Bellatrix and her certain flare seemed to suck the air out of the room causing everyone to stand a little more at attention. 

Bellatrix Lestrange walked like she was the Queen of Hearts attending her own coronation. She smiled wickedly at those seated around the table, pausing briefly to share terse words with Lucius Malfoy, before then double-cheek-kissing his wife and her sister, Narcissa. 

There seemed to be some sort of disagreement about who should sit in one of the two seats at the head of the table next to the Dark Lord’s seat (throne for all intents and purposes), but a silent conversation that passed between Bellatrix and her brother-in-law resulted in the latter finding another chair.  

Voldemort walked into the room and those who had been sitting stood suddenly, falling deathly silent as Voldemort moved to stand at the head of the table. The sickening smell of dark magic accosted Remus who felt his eyes water; he swallowed hard against his gag reflex as a giant python type snake slithered its way into the room.

If there was ever any speculation that Nagini was the sixth horcrux before, Remus now felt confident that he could confirm it.

“My Lord.” Rodolphus said reverently as he bowed his head. Remus watched as the rest of the room did the same, and quickly followed suit – he wanted to throw up. 

Remus’ plan of attack here was to be as non-descript as possible. He was here for one reason – tell Voldemort he was the secret keeper and plan a course of ‘attack’ on the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow – otherwise, he was to be invisible. He could not be invisible if he was angry, and if he listened too closely, he’d get angry, so...

He almost missed it when Voldemort addressed him.

“Now, I trust that you were successful in your task?” Voldemort’s voice echoed through the room, sounding more like an actor in a Greek tragedy than a tyrannical fascist leader addressing his followers.

A throat cleared before something hit Remus on the shin. He looked up and realised everyone’s eyes were on him. 

“Oh erm, uh yes. My apologies...my Lord...” He tried to regain his footing. “Uhm, I was successful. I am officially the Potter’s secret keeper.”

Bellatrix barely waited until the end of the sentence to stand and begin cackling maniacally. “We’re going to kill the child! We’re going to kill the child!” She sang as she jumped and clapped her hands. 

Voldemort hardly spared Bellatrix a sideways gaze as he lifted one hand – she fell silent and returned to her seat, continuing to smile and wiggle as if it were difficult to keep her obvious joy at bay. 

“Though I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he began, “I’d like to eliminate this specific threat myself.” 

By the end of the sentence, he was offering Remus a chilling smile. Remus worked to keep his breathing even as he tried to reciprocate it. 

“Where is this hide away located?” Voldemort asked.

“Erm, Godric’s Hollow, m’Lord.”

“You will take me to them. You shall meet me in the town square at eight in the evening the day after tomorrow. We shall eliminate this threat to me once and for all.” 

“Any threat to you is a threat to all of us, my Lord.” Alecto Carrow said severely which was met with a muttering of agreement from around the table.

“You will all be rewarded greatly for your dedication and loyalty to me.” Voldemort declared, and Bellatrix began a round of applause. 

The meeting carried on and Remus ensured to take two more swigs of the Polyjuice potion to avoid turning back into himself prematurely. 

A black cat had materialized beside Remus at some point throughout the meeting and appeared to make itself at home beside his left foot. The feline seemed to watch as Remus would lift the flask to his mouth, and he became increasingly paranoid that this cat somehow knew he was an imposter. Was this cat a spy? Was this a spy cat who somehow knew Peter was caught for being a spy for the Death Eaters and that I, as a spy, came to this meeting as Peter as a spy for the Order pretending to be Peter who was acting as a spy for the Death Eaters.

Fuck, Remus was losing it.

Get a grip you stupid bastard. He scolded himself. 

The meeting appeared to conclude as Voldemort stood, and everyone followed suit. A few higher pointing Death Eaters seemed to congregate at the head of the table – Malfoy, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Snape, Nott, Goyle, and the Carrows encircled Voldemort. 

Remus began looking for the door when he felt the cat brush up against his leg. He looked down to the black cat who was peering back up at him – the eyes were light, nearly blue but not quite – and they looked disturbingly familiar. The cat seemed to be cocking an eyebrow at him, if cats could do such a thing, as Remus considered it.

“What?” Remus whispered.

“Make a habit o’ talkin’ to rodents, do ye Pettigrew?” The sickening sound of Greyback’s voice permeated Remus' hearing – as well as his other senses. Suddenly, Remus was four years old again, waking to the sound of screaming that turned out the be his own as a wolf locked its jaw upon his chest. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he thought of his mothers screams and sobs, begging the healers to do something – anything – to help her boy, whilst everyone murmured it’d be kindest to just ‘put the boy out of his misery’. 

“I do, actually,” Remus said, lacing his words with venom. “I’ve found they often make better company than a mangey wolf.” 

Greyback seemed taken aback as he considered Remus. 

“Why you little-”

“Ah, there you are, Splash.” A posh accent commented from Remus’ other side. He turned to see the form of Narcissa Malfoy bending to pick up the black cat. 

“Good work, Pettigrew.” She commented as Splash weaseled its way back out of Narcissa’s arms and took a few paces to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.” 

Remus nodded at Narcissa, feeling off kilter at her cordial behaviour; he couldn’t imagine Peter ever making friends with the likes of her. He moved toward the door and as he walked, he realized that the cat had paused and was watching Remus before carrying on ahead. 

Remus felt like he could finally take a deep breath once he stepped beyond the gated entrance of the manor. His peace didn’t last long when he realized the cat had paused again and was once again watching him.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” He muttered quietly.

The cat looked as though it rolled its eyes at him as he walked a few more feet ahead, turning back to Remus.

“Are you expecting me to follow you? I’m not as dumb as I look.” He commented again, though realizing too late that he may actually be as dumb as he looks, seeing as he was currently talking to a cat. 

He heard a low growl emanate from the cat’s chest before it turned and walked away without turning back this time to confirm Remus was following it. 

“It seems as though curiosity may kill the wolf today.” Remus muttered to himself as he begrudgingly followed the cat against every one of his instincts which were screaming at him to just get the fuck out of there.  

The cat stopped in a densely wooded area and seemed to scan the are before turning back to Remus, who in turn stood and stared at the cat dumbly. 

“I don’t see a pentagram anywhere, is this not where you plan to sacrifice me to the devil?” He asked as he too scanned the woods for potential threats.

“Salazar, you Gryffindor’s are bloody exhausting.” A voice rang through the woods. Remus whipped his head back towards the sound, and where the cat once stood was none other than Regulus Black.

“Holy fucking shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Regulus rolled his eyes, “and so eloquent, as always.” He muttered.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.” Remus seethed.

“Disappointed, are you?”

Remus gritted his teeth. “Where’s Y/N?”

Regulus’ eyes softened considerably, though his posture remained stiff as he considered Remus.

“Safe. That is all you need to know.” 

“Fuck that, Black. Where is she?” 

Regulus sucked in a breath, appearing to attempt to steady himself at having to deal with the likes of Remus. 

“The Dark Lord’s followers became aware that she was not as dead as they had previously assumed. We could not risk them searching for her.” Regulus admitted.

“How could they have known she wasn’t dead? The only person who could have reported that to them is Peter and he’s a little tied up right now.” Remus said darkly.

“My cousin’s little art project on her arm was done with a cursed blade – the dark magic left a trace on her. When Yaxley tried to claim that she had died while trying to escape from his hold instead of admitting he let her get away, Bellatrix was quick to prove him wrong.”

“What?” Remus asked in shock.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Good gods, which of you imbeciles did that old man send?” He asked before casting a quick finite over Remus. 

Remus felt the Polyjuice potion wash away from his form as he stretched out to his correct height. 

“Aren’t you wolves supposed to have superhuman hearing?” He asked condescendingly. 

“Fuck off.” Remus spat. 

“Now, now. There is no need for such language, Lupin; we are on the same side, after all.”

“Like fuck we are. You’re a marked Death Eater, and you abducted Y/N.” He spat. 

“I think it should be obvious by now that I have clearly defected here, Lupin.” Regulus responded.

“Why?”

This seemed to catch Regulus off guard. “Pardon?”

“Why defect?”

Remus watched as Regulus stared hard at him, when suddenly a filmy haze seemed to overtake Regulus’ grey eyes and his face grew hard. 

“I hardly think that is relevant.” 

The two men stared at each other sizing one another up. 

Remus felt conflicted. He knew Sirius hated his family, but Sirius never really could bring himself to hate Regulus – he was only a child, just like Sirius was. Regulus was a victim too. They were each dealt a shitty hand, but the way they played their cards were different. Regulus chose the path of least resistance by adapting and adhering to his parent’s wishes. Sirius rebelled, pushed back, and decided to fold, leaving the game altogether. 

Sirius wanted to hate Regulus; when he got his Dark Mark, and then again when he died. But he couldn’t bring himself to, because part of it felt like it was his fault; Regulus took the role that Sirius himself was born into – and in many ways, Sirius felt as though he forced his little brother into this. And in the end, it cost Regulus his life. 

But Remus, looking at Regulus now; having faked his own death, defected from not only his family’s legacy but also the reign of the 'Lord' that he had sworn himself to, all whilst helping the other side; how different were the two brothers, really? 

Twin Renegades. 

“Sirius is beside himself.” Remus admitted quietly. 

Regulus seemed pained by this admission.

“I wouldn’t have given her back yet if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Remus’ heart stuttered. “Wait, you – you’re the one who brought her to Godric’s Hollow?”

He was responded with a single curt nod.

“But, but how? How did you know? The house is...”

“Y/N. She had described to me what she called ‘location seven’. I apparated her there.” 

Remus balked. Each Order team had several secret locations they would be able to travel to in case anything went sideways during a mission. Remus wasn’t as familiar, seeing as he was the only Order member who could attend his particular missions, but he had heard his friends discussing it before. Even Lily and Sirius didn’t know the areas of James and your secret locations; they were for your safety, and your safety only.

“Location seven was the cottage in Godric’s Hollow?”

“No, it was the wooded area behind it. I could feel the familiar sense of a fidelius charm nearby, so I brought her as close to it as I could before I ran, we...” Regulus heaved a sigh, “we had fought our way out, we’d barely made it.” 

“Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Regulus.”

“I’m sorry, Lupin. You may not believe me, but I am. I... I saved her because I could not watch the woman my brother loved die in front of me. I saved her for him, but the other’s discovered I had rescued her, and suddenly it became much bigger than him. I couldn’t just return her at the time.” Regulus admitted.

“The last time you saved her, she was hardly safe. How do we know she’s safe now?” Remus pleaded.

Regulus grimaced. “Again, the others had known I had rescued her last time. This time, they do not know she is here. They do not even know I am here.” 

“How is she safer with you than she is at home with Sirius? With us?”

“You moved five members of the Order plus an infant with a bounty on its head into one house. If they had gone searching for Y/N and found you, it would have been devastating for the cause.” He explained. “Listen; you will escort the Dark Lord to the Potter’s cottage in two days. He plans to attend with you as Peter Pettigrew, alone; he will show up unknowingly out numbered. He goes nowhere without Nagini, and we will be able to destroy the last horcrux before finally ending the Dark Lord’s reign of tyranny. She will be home to you soon.”

“What about you?” Remus asked.

Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”

“When this is over, what about you?”

Regulus looked Remus up and down. “I hardly think it matters.”

“Of course it does; of course you matter.” 

Regulus’ eyes turned stormy. “Do not pretend to know anything about me, Lupin. I have never once mattered; not to my brother, hardly to my parents until I was the last one standing, never to Dumbledore, and rarely to the Dark Lord, lest my family’s money benefitted his cause.” 

“You matter to Sirius.”

“Enough!” Regulus shouted, seeming to forget himself. Remus was sure he’d never even heard of Regulus having ever raised his voice before. “Do not fuck this up, Lupin. We have one chance to end this.” 

And with a quick spin, Remus was left in the dense woods alone. He hadn’t noticed how late it was until now, the darkness seeping into his bones leaving him chilled in the late October evening. 

It didn’t exactly go well, but it sure could have gone a lot worse.

He walked towards where Regulus had been standing and noticed a small piece of parchment laying in the wet leaves. He picked it up and unfolded it. 

“Stay safe. 1, 2, 3. V.” 

It could have gone a lot worse.

October 30th

Regulus sighed – he felt exhausted from the meeting with Remus Lupin yesterday. He hated raising his temper, it made him feel like Sirius; it made him feel like a Gryffindor. 

Regulus’ cat form pushed past a vine covered gate and entered a grandiose stone outbuilding before shifting back to his human form.

“Can Kreacher get master a drink before Kreacher leaves?”

Regulus sighed. “You should not return until this is over, Kreacher. My brother is surely not happy with you.”

The house-elf scoffed. “Kreacher is not afraid of blood-traitors. Besides, Kreacher serves the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; Kreacher belongs at Grimmauld Place.” 

“Underestimate my brother, Kreacher, and it will be your head on the wall.” Regulus muttered.

“Now cousin, do try to keep your patience.” Narcissa said as she opened the door to her hidden library located in a small building behind the gardens of Malfoy Manor. 

You sat on a Victorian style settee in Narcissa’s library with a babbling Draco on your knee as you cast colourful butterflies above him, causing the toddler to coo and clap. 

“We’re in.” Regulus announced, causing your head to snap forward and Draco to make grabby hands at him. “This ends tomorrow.”

© ellecdc; do not copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere under any circumstances.

Continue to part seven here.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

It Wasn't You (Steve Rogers Drabble)

Fandom: MCU, Marvel, Avengers, Captain America, Steve Rogers, f!reader

Word Count: 623

TW: Angst, Whump, Death, Mind Control

Notes: Thank you to @heart-0n-fire for beta reading for me! This was inspired by the below gif posted by @charnelhouse but the reader-insert in the fic is all-inclusive.

The second the two of you hit the floor, Steve’s mind cleared. The hazy film that had been swirling around every thought was instantly gone. He blinked a few times to clear his vision before he realized you were laying under him, your eyes wide as they danced across his face. Then, in a voice barely more than a breath, you whispered, “Steve? Is that you?”

He blinked again hard as he softly shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. “Yeah, it’s me. What happened?”

All the tension instantly dropped from your tear-stained face as your lips curled into a soft smile. “I knew it. You’re back.” Despite the joy in your words, your voice was still strained and breathy.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? What do you mean I’m back? Where did I go?” Steve shifted slightly against you, but the movement caused you to let out a soft moan deep in your throat.

His eyes began to slip from your face to see what was wrong, but you called out to him, recapturing his attention. “Steve… It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

A cold wave of fear traveled through his body at your words. Slowly, both of you glanced down to see the knife protruding from your chest, the one with Steve’s hand still wrapped around the hilt. It had pierced your chest right above your heart and a bloody stain was quickly spreading across your suit. He jerked his hand away in horror, causing a pained gasp to escape your lips as the motion jostled the blade.

“I did this…” Steve whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his actions.

“No, baby, no. This wasn’t you. It was HYDRA. The new weapon they’ve been working on. It was a gas that attacks the serum in your blood. It sent you and Bucky into some sort of bloodlust-fueled rage. Nat and Sam were trying to stop Buck… and I led you away. I knew I could get you to come back to me… and I did.” You flashed him a blood-soaked smile as you reached up to cup his face. Your hand trembled slightly as it rested on his cheek and your skin was cool to the touch.  “You came back….”

Your eyes began to flutter, and your breathing was becoming more erratic as Steve tried to prop himself up. “I need to get you help.”

But you wrapped your free hand tightly around the material of his suit, holding him in place as you hissed gently. “No. Stay here with me. Please. I don’t want to be alone for this.”

Steve’s heart shattered at your implication. “Sweetheart, please let me help you. I have to try and fix this. Fix what I did.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t you. You would never hurt me, Steve. I know that. Please don’t blame yourself. I know you will, but I don’t.” You released his suit as you placed your palm flat against his heart. “In here… it wasn’t you.”

Both of your hands weakly dropped to the floor as you began struggling to breathe. Your eyes were still trained on him, but they were growing unfocused and glazed as they struggled to remain open.

Taking your face in his hands, Steve begged, “Please, hold on. It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

A soft smile gently pulled at the corners of your lips. “Steve... I love….”

Steve watched the last embers of light fade from your eyes even as your final word still clung to your lips. When Nat, Sam, and Bucky burst into the room moments later, they found their friend clinging to the motionless form of the woman he loved, his knife still lodged in her chest.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heresathreebee, @heart-0n-fire, @callsign-phoenix, @sunshineflowerchild789, @princessxkenobi, @merlehs, @atthediscowithoutpanic, @ed-baldwin, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

[tangledinlove]

the killerverse

masterlist of related works

pairing: luke castellan x fem reader

summary: everything about luke and his childhood best friend, a daughter of ares affectionately called killer.

content: pining x1000. stupid childhood best friends in love. specific chapter warnings on each fic

the tracklist spotify playlist

hold on and hope (8/15)

1. daylight part one 3.8k

↳ set at the start of the lightning thief. you and luke through the eyes of percy jackson during his first days at camp half-blood

2. daylight part two 4.6k

↳ the details behind luke’s fight and the story of the longest time you and luke didn’t talk

3. when the sun came up (i was looking at you) 4.8k

↳ set after luke’s quest, pre tlt. your poisoning in the woods and everything that comes after

4. a world alone 6.6k

↳ set before luke’s quest. you and luke take a well deserved day off at the lake, and you talk about the future

5. the magic school bus to mount olympus 8k

↳ set before the lightning thief. you and luke have some interesting interactions with the olympians

6. secrets i have held in my heart 5.4k

↳ snapshots of you and luke throughout your lives, from elementary school to camp half-blood

7. carve your name 11k

↳ set after the trio’s quest. it’s the fourth of july. you try and come to terms with your weird feelings for luke while he chases another girl

8. everything has changed 8.1k

↳ you, luke, and the aftermath of the way you’d kissed him last night

bonus works

8.5. right by my violets 2.5k

↳ a moment in between the beginning and end of chapter 8

[achenetype-deactivated20250430]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

[writing-prompt-s]

A dating service where matching is based on people’s search history exists. You’re a serial killer. You go on a date with a writer.

[endreams-s]

Serial Killer: metaphorically, if you were to kill someone, how would you do it?

Writer: Air shot between the toes, it’ll look like a heart attack.

Serial Killer who is obviously in love already: *sucks in a breath* ok

[honeypressed]

Writer: how long would it take to die if you were to potentially stab someone in the guts

Serial killer: anywhere from 2 to 30 minutes

Writer, already bringing a ring out: *shaking* thanks

[moonreflectioninthefragglepond]

A++ addition

[tetsuskitten]

Writer: *shows the serial killer the murder scene they’re writing* babe, i’m not sure if this would actually work?

Serial killer: *kisses writer on the forehead and leaves, comes back later, a suspicious scent of blood coming off them* it works baby, you’re doing great

[tigerliliesandcherryblossoms]

I LOVE THIS

[vmohlere]

Oh no, murder comedy is my jam

[dynamic-k]

I’m cackling at how wholesome this is

[intothevoid125]

I love this my gods

[examishbookwyrm]

I’ve only ever seen this in screenshots. Legendary

[vintagemulti]

the glass series masterlist

steven grant & marc spector x reader;

a series in which your failing marriage with marc goes through repairs and destructions as you learn the meaning of life - the hard way.

series warnings;

smoking, swearing, toxic relationship, guns and gun violence, death (read the warnings at the start of every chapter for more depth)

playlists;

listen while reading for an extra level of immersion , i also just love making playlists ok , both playlists available only on spotify <3

marc ( a toxic relationship with marc spector )

steven ( married life with steven grant )

the glass series

part one -> pieces

you argued, you made up. you argued, you made up. it was never ending - you thought it would never change. and then it did.

part two -> picking up the pieces

the serenity after the storm, as some would say. as per usual, your husbands gentler half helps mend you after the most recent argument.

part three -> glass and glue

marc swore it would be the last time. who knows, maybe it would be.

part four -> the cracks

all good things must come to an end finally made sense, after all the devil works hard, but a certain someone works harder.

part five -> champagne glasses

visiting your ex-boyfriend is never pleasant. especially when he’s anton mogart, and you’re being hunted.

part six -> unbreakable

there’s a reason wedding vows include “til death do us part”. want to find out why?

part seven -> window pains

taking a walk down memory lane isn’t always by choice, and is never your ideal afternoon.

part eight -> shattered

have you ever felt so angry you’ve wished death upon someone? well, marc spector, be careful what you wish for. it might just come true.

part nine -> rose coloured glasses

welcome back to the land of the living. are you ready to fight for your life?

part ten -> shards and splinters

apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

part eleven -> …

coming soon

drabbles / oneshots

it’s you, it’s me, it’s us -> steven x reader

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Summary: After a mission goes south, Jake finds himself captured by insurgents that show no remorse. But what’s worse than knowing he failed his mission? Knowing that the Weapons Systems Officer who trusted him to bring her home safe was in the same cell as him. Collecting bruises that match his own.

Mini Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Chapter One: [Happily Ever Afters Don’t Exist] A certain naval aviator shows up on your front doorstep right on cue. Because when the nightmares are too hard to handle on their own? You and Jake find solace in one another’s presence. (2.5k ) (Out Now)

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown] When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life. (4.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Three: [In The Arms Of The Enemy] Both you and Jake come face to face with the man you only know as ‘The Commander’ who you soon find out has very little patience for bullshit. (4.6k) (Out Now)

Hotshot: The moments before you were brought into your cell & the memory that haunted Jake Seresins mind. (1.3k )

Chapter Four: [Men & Their Many Masks] You and Jake find yourselves alone in his cell for what feels like a week. Passing the time with mundane conversations. But when The Commander and his fellow officers finally come back? Things take a turn for the worst. (5.3k) (Out Now)

Chapter Five: [Emerald City:] *** You’re forced against your will by three insurgents all the while Jake helplessly watches on. In return? He’s given a gift made only for the broken hearted. (4.8k) (Out Now)

Chapter Six: [Ninety in Five] *** Hours, Days, Weeks, Months. Just how long have you and Jake been enduring the horrific torture at the hands of a Rogue Nations Commander. (5.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Seven: [War Wounds in the Ward] When help finally arrives, Jake believes it may be too late. The extent of both your injuries are finally revealed and the both you come face to face with the reality of just how long you’d been held in captivity for. (7.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Eight: [The Platform] When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Epilogue: [Before, During & Never After] There one place Jake Seresin knows where to find you after he’s woken by a startling bark. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Concepts / Blurbs.

-> [Don’t Wanna Miss My Stop] Jakes Overdose.

-> [Don’t Blame Me] Jake doesn’t blame himself for how you died. He blames himself for why you died.

Status: Complete

Life After Death Spin off Series

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Hearts On Fire - Charlie Weasley Imagine

A/N: ahhhh xD I am not sure how this happened, but it did and I am so happy how this turned out! I really hope you guys like it too! I missed writing for Charlie, but don’t worry, my Eddie Munson lovers, he’s up next this weekend!

Request - starlightmedow asked: Hmmmmm, what about Charlie x muggleborn reader (reader was a Hufflepuff but they’re already graduated, dating since Hogwarts) were the battle of Hogwarts is over and he’s panicking cuz he can’t find her, eventually he does but she’s extremely hurt and passed out so he panics even more + comfort on both sides once she wakes up cuz I can’t do angst w/o comfort (Fred doesn’t die, he never died)?

Warnings: post war; reader is badly hurt, mentions of wounds, also mentions of bullying, I believe that’s it but please let me know if I missed anything

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)

Your name: submit What is this?

**********************************************

Hearts On Fire

Well, I don’t have many, and I don’t have much In fact I don’t have any, but I borrow enough ‘Cause I know those eyes, and I know that touch I don’t have many, and I don’t have much But oh, darling, my heart’s on fire… For you

It was over. It was finally over. They won. Voldemort was gone. Harry was alive. Everything was going to be okay. Except for one thing. He couldn’t find you. Charlie was running through the halls of his previous school looking for you. You had to be okay. He could feel his heart beating heavier than he had ever felt before.

“Bill!” he yelled when he saw his older brother with his wife.

“Charlie” Bill said nervously. Charlie felt his heart drop to his stomach. Something wasn’t right. Bill was a terrible liar and he knew he was hiding something.

“What’s wrong?” he said, feeling his hands shaking. “Have you seen-?”

“Charlie, it’s best if you come with us” Fleur said, walking closer to him.

“Where is she?” he said, his voice starting to shake. “W-what happened-?” he said, looking at his older brother as terrified as he did when they were kids and there was a thunderstorm outside. It broke Bill’s heart.

“Charlie, she-” he started, but he couldn’t tell him. He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him closer. “She’s gonna be okay, mate” he said.

“Bill!” he said, pushing him away and he felt a few tears escaping his eyes. “What happened?”

“You need to stay calmed-!”

“No! Don’t tell me to calm down!” he snapped. “You don’t get to tell me to calm down when your wife is standing right here and mine is-” he said, with his voice breaking. “W-where is she?”

“Come on, mate” Bill said, quietly, pulling him towards the Great Hall.

Charlie walked through the people that were mourning their loved ones and other people whose injuries were being tended to. But he didn’t see you. Until he did. And then, his heart dropped and broke into a million pieces. You were lying on the ground with all of his family surrounding you.

“N-no” Charlie said, running towards you and kneeling down.

“Charlie” Mrs. Weasley said, holding her son as tears ran down her face.

“What happened?” was everything he was able to say when he saw your unconscious body on the ground. You looked so small, fragile, and delicate. He was terrified of even touching you. But he did, grabbing you and pulling you to him. He saw every bruise, cut, and scratch on your beautiful face and his heart broke into a million pieces.

“W-we were with her” Percy told him. “She was fighting with us” he explained.

“S-someone blew up a w-wall behind us” Fred said, crying just as much as Charlie was. “A-and she-” he said, making Charlie look at his little brother. “She pushed me out of the way, Charlie” he said. “A-and-”

“Darling, p-please wake up” he said, brushing the hair away from your face and seeing a deep cut on your forehead. “You have to wake up, love” he cried. “You promised me!”

Keep reading

[astonishment]

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘱

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾-𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝟨𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾? 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟨. 𝖲𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝖣𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈…𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

Part One wc:5.5k

Part Two wc:5.3k

Part Three wc:5k

Part Four wc:5.5k

Part Five wc: 5.1k

Part Six wc: 6.1k

Part Seven wc: 7.2k

Part Eight wc: 5.6k

Part Nine wc: 6.9k

Part Ten coming soon

Soundtrack🎶

[petertingle-yipyip]

mad at god - Matt Murdock (Masterlist)

Pairing: Daredevil x Exodus (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Summary: (enemies to lovers) Y/N and Matt were friends since college, though they both have a secret from one another. When the sunsets and the Devil roams Hell’s Kitchen, there’s one person who seems to get in the way, Exodus.

(1) God Complex - Y/N is back in Hell’s Kitchen and is on a mission to protect girls from her same fate. But when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen gets in her way, a rivalry blossoms. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(2) If Walls Could Talk - Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson weren’t always a duo. Back at Columbia, they were a trio that included Y/N Y/L/N. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(3) Traitor - The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had become some sort of unofficial partners with Exodus, but Fisk’s games nearly tears them apart. Does she have any loyalty to the Devil or is she willing to throw him to the wolves? (MINI-PREVIEW)

(4) Crisis - Inch by inch, Exodus creeps her way into Y/N’s everyday life. When an unexpected project throws her friends into the fire, she has to make a decision to pack up the suit or keep this secondary life alive. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(5) Till It Doesn’t Hurt - Matt tries to figure out the best way to go about the Fisk situation. But in the process, Matt realizes that it’s not as simple as he thought it was. (MINI-PREVIEW)

(6) Not Friendly - Things are revealed, but not exactly in the way Y/N expected... Now she has some serious explaining to do. (very brief SA reference. blink and you’ll miss it) (MINI-PREVIEW)

(7) What If It Doesnt End Well - Sudden changes can be oh so dangerous for the life of a vigilante. How can Y/N possibly cope when her entire world shifts beneath her feet? (MINI-PREVIEW)

(8) Mad At God - One can only take so much pressure until they pop. Exodus finally snaps and takes a chance, but what does that mean for her and The Devil Daredevil? (MINI-PREVIEW) (SUIT EXTRA)

SEASON TWO

[something-tofightfor]

Ben Barnes x Reader: Masterlist

Exit Row

Exit Row Masterlist 

Summary:  What happens when you’re seated next to a friendly man on a transatlantic flight? You’ve got 12 hours to make an impression and perhaps gain a new friend - but who is he?

Rating: M (language, some sexual situations)

Status: Complete (8/8)

Word Count: 20,500

Date: Originally posted beginning January 2019 

—

Exit Row: Before the Beginning (Ben/Reader POV) Complete. 1/1. - WC: 1,073 - Originally posted February 18, 2019. Rating: M (language)

Ben’s POV of finding Reader’s Instagram account

— — — — —

Highway One (Sequel to Exit Row)

Highway One Masterlist

Summary: After meeting Ben on an 11 hour plane ride home from London, what happens when you’re both back in the United States? Will your newfound friendship thrive, or do things change once you’re back in your day to day lives?

Rating: PG 13 (language)

Status: Complete (11/11)

Word Count: 46,500

Date: Originally posted beginning in April 2019

— 

In chronological order; featuring the same Reader as ER/H1: (one-shots unless otherwise labeled). 

* This timeline is still being filled in… so there are a lot of missing pieces * 

Text Interludes: 

- The night they exchanged numbers for the first time (within H1 chapter 1) 

- Before she goes to NYC for the second visit (post ‘Friend Request’)

- A Setback in the Relationship (post ‘The Way it Is’)

- Post Thanksgiving (between “Look in the Closet” and “Young and Dumb”)

***

Red, White and Boom Complete; 1/1. - WC: 7,471 - Originally posted July 4, 2019. Rating: M (Language)

Are We? Complete; 1/1. - WC: 7,900- Originally posted August 22, 2019. Rating: M (language, implied sexual situations)

The Big Apple Complete; 1/1. - WC: 1,960 - Originally posted July 8, 2019. Rating: PG-13

Hey, You Complete; 3/3. - WC: 17,870 - Originally posted August 2019. Rating: M (language! little bit of light zest mentioned) 

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3

Friend Request Complete; 1/1. - WC: 2,493 - Originally posted July 7, 2019. Rating: PG-13

Look in the Closet Complete; 1/1. - WC: 6,963 - Originally posted November 11, 2019. Rating: M

Young and Dumb Complete; 1/1. - WC: 830 - Originally posted March 8, 2019. Rating: PG-13

Response Time Complete; 1/1. - WC: 1195 - Originally posted February 4, 2020. Rating: PG-13

Love, Actually Complete; 1/1. - WC: 748 - Originally posted March 6, 2019. Rating: PG-13

Premiere Party Complete; 1/1. - WC: 3,063 - Originally posted January 22, 2019. Rating: M (language)

The Way It Is Complete; 1/1. - WC: 3,850 - Originally posted September 6, 2019. Rating: M (language)

Off Set  - Prompt Request Complete; 1/1. -WC: 2,500 - Originally posted March 2, 2019. Rating: M (language and a lil bit of implied smut)

Bottoms Up Complete; 1/1. - WC: 783 - Originally posted March 14, 2019. Rating: M (language) 

Shoot Me Complete; 1/1. - WC: 2,105 - Originally posted March 16, 2019. Rating: M (language, implied smut)

Out in the Open Complete; 1/1. - WC: 1,250 -Originally posted July 3, 2019. Rating: M (language, some sexual innuendo) 

Unrelated Ben x Reader: 

Enough  Quote: “ I want to make love, but my hair smells of war and running and running.”

[something-tofightfor]

Exit Row: Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Summary:  What happens when you’re seated next to a friendly man on a transatlantic flight? You’ve got 12 hours to make an impression and perhaps gain a new friend - but who is he?

Status: Complete

Date: Originally posted beginning January 2019

Rating: M (language) …but this one’s going to be fluffy

Updated 2/22/19: 8 / 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 

[beautifulbuckys]

Can’t Stay Away (George Weasley x Reader) Masterlist

Can’t Stay Away is an enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend’s brother story! It follows Reader, Harry Potter’s sister through her journeys of hating famed prankster George Weasley.

No use of Y/N!

Chapter One: Weasley

      -> Reader finds herself back at the Burrow for another summer before Hogwarts. Here, she’s surrounded by her found family as well as her sworn enemy, George Weasley.

Chapter Two: Iron Grip

      -> As the school year is inching closer, Reader is inching closer to a blow out with George. During a peaceful conversation, she finds herself interrupted. 

Chapter Three: First Week Jitters

      -> Reader can’t escape George Weasley, and he makes school her living hell whenever he can.

Chapter Four: Sweet Treats, Sweetheart

      -> The fall season has hit Hogwarts full on. Reader experiences the autumn with her favorite, and least favorite, red heads in the world.

Chapter Five: ‘Tis The Season

-> The holiday season has snuck up on the Weasley crew. As the stress of exams looms, feelings are building and tensions are rising.

Chapter Six: Restart

-> Christman Day was the day of gifts and family time, and apparently accidentally cuddling with the person you’re supposed to hate?

COMPLETED

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.17

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Slight!Embry Call x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 4441

Summary: The treaty is revised and you get some alone time with Edward.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16

Keep reading

[shouldershimmycity]

Helium - Prologue (Hangman x Mitchell-Reader)

Maverick never thought he would have children. Then he finds out he has a daughter, and he has to decide whether or not he wants to be a part of her life. But first, he has to get her out of enemy territory with the help of the man who will fall for her.

*****

I was writing another WIP when I got this idea so that one will have to wait haha. I'm back at school so I'm a little busy. As always let me know what you think! (Also Ice is still alive in this because I say so oops.)

*****

Maverick’s bike idled through the gate, the guard posted there didn’t need to check his ID to know who he was. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was probably the most well known man in the Navy, if not one of the top five. Of course, Iceman was up there as well. 

Speaking of the Admiral, Maverick had been visiting his old friend when he had received a call from a Major General in the Air Force, who was stationed in Virginia. Mav had looked at Ice for an explanation, but the man who usually had all the answers had shrugged his shoulders. Then he had checked his work email, and insisted Maverick attend whatever meeting was awaiting him in Oceana. The admiral had turned pale, and he had poorly tried to hide the shock in his expression. He refused to answer Maverick when he inquired what was wrong. If Maverick wasn’t being given orders, his curiosity surely would have won out anyway. Ice had managed to get the load master manning the C-17 to clear a little space for his bike, which Maverick was thankful for. He could tell that he would be here for a while it seemed. Clearly, whatever waited for him must be of the utmost importance; but he couldn’t shake the look on Ice’s face from his mind.

Upon Maverick’s arrival, a Lieutenant saluted him, asking him to ‘follow me, sir.’ He opened the door for the Captain, and began leading him down a hallway, with nothing but government owned stark white walls, and an occasional newsletter taped up in random places. The Lieutenant stopped next to a door, which was opened, and Maverick thanked him, entering the conference room. 

The blinds were closed, but the daylight crept through like sharp fingers, desperate to reach into the privacy of the dark. At the table were three individuals, two men and one woman.

The first of the men was Admiral Alexander “Beegee” Williams. Maverick had served under him briefly when he was sent to Bosnia after pissing off a different Admiral. Beegee had made sure to keep an eye on him for Iceman. He was younger than Mav and Ice, but a wise man all the same.

The latter of the men being Major General Leonard “Scythe” McConner. Maverick had heard of him, and he had clearly heard of Maverick. His face was stern and his hair was practically white, the lines on his face were twisted in a sour expression. Although Mav still had no idea what was going on, it was clearly bigger than he thought if the Air Force was being pulled into it. 

It took him a moment to recognize the woman sitting in front of him, mostly because she wasn’t in uniform and their previous encounter had been a drunken one. She was much older now, as was he, but she was still very pretty. She gave him a weak smile, and he returned it although he was even more confused now. Hopefully he could get an explanation.

“Captain,” Scythe greeted him, and Maverick flashed his teeth in his signature movie star grin, nodding his head in salutation. 

“Sir.”

“There is a situation abroad which you have been brought in to evaluate. Two F-22 pilots were shot down in enemy territory by 5th generation fighters. They are asking for a prisoner exchange, but their demands are higher than we’re willing to go. That being said, these pilots have top secret clearance and know information that we cannot allow to be… extracted from them. We need air support for the mission, and you have been requested specifically,” Beegee finished off his speech with the press of a button, which illuminated the screen behind Maverick. 

Three images faced him, one of a young man, he was sturdy looking, built and had a strong face. He reminded Maverick of a pitbull. The picture next to him was of a young woman, she was about Rooster’s age, if not slightly younger. She had a confidence that only came natural to certain people, and he could practically feel charisma oozing from her. But he could tell she wasn’t cocky about it just from looking at her picture. He’d imagine that they might get along if he had the pleasure to meet her. Perhaps he could introduce her to Hangman. 

On the screen below the two ID images was a slightly grainy picture, but it was horrifying all the same. Both of the pilots were held by the back of their shirts, and they were beaten to a pulp. Despite the perceived durability of the young man in the photo above, he looked absolutely terrified in the one below. The young woman seemed to remain strong despite the damage done to her body and her face; in fact, her expression was hard, twisted with the will to endure her circumstances. The photo reminded him of a seller’s listing, for an item. They were not items, these were human beings. It took Maverick a minute to tear his eyes away from the gruesome image.

“Where are they?” he asked, voice quiet from the shock. The images were replaced with a map, highlighting the enemy base involved.

“Boxer and Mayhem are right about here, we believe. The base is heavily monitored by 5th generation fighters. We would like you and the reassembled Dagger Squadron to take on the task of air support, most likely in the form of air to air combat, while a hostage retrieval takes place on the ground,” Scythe cut into the presentation, despite the vibe the old man gave, Maverick could see the worry beneath his face. These were his pilots, then?

“That’s possible, but I… I have to ask,” Maverick hesitated, his mind reeling, “why us? Why me? I’m in the Navy not the Air Force…”

That’s when the woman, who Mav believed was named Emily, burst into tears. When she stood to leave the room, his bewilderment must have shown, because Scythe pursed his lips together; eventually and reluctantly, he spoke.

“You’ve been called in with the expectation that you will complete this mission because you have motivation that no other team leader could have here,” he stated firmly, but Maverick was still so lost.

“Maverick,” Beegee spoke up, his voice was delicate; like if he spoke too harshly the man in front of him would turn to dust, “You’ve been called in because Mayhem is your daughter.”

Maverick blinked, then he blinked again, and once more before opening his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

I have a daughter? How is that possible? She’s Emily’s daughter? Does she know? How could I have not known? Why wasn’t I told? I’m a father?

“Maverick!” Beegee called him back to reality, worry written all over his face. When the Captain made eye contact with him he continued, “I know this is a shock, and I would like you to be able to work through it, but we simply do not have the time, I’m so sorry. We need you to reassemble the squadron immediately.”

All he could do was nod, and when he was dismissed he stepped out into the hallway. Lifting his eyes, he saw Emily sobbing in the middle of the hall. He pointed a weak, accusatory finger at her. 

“You– she– Why didn’t you tell me?” Despite his shock, his voice was stern. She went to speak, but he held up his hand, “No– no let’s not do this right now… I have to– I have to go assemble the squadron.” He brushed past her, and she only cried harder, and he could hear her mumbling something. He needed some air, and he needed to call someone.

*****

“I have a daughter.”

“WHat?!” Rooster choked on whatever he was drinking, and coughing filled the other end of the phone line. Maverick had no idea what to do, and the only person he could call about this was Bradley. He nodded, despite the Lieutenant not being able to see him through the cell phone. 

“I know,” was all he could squeak out.

“Listen Mav, if you want to be a part of her life you can do that. I’m sure she’d be happy to have you as a dad,” he reassured. Mav took a shaky breath.

“That’s the problem. I have to call the Daggers back together for a mission. She’s a POW in enemy territory right now, and the Navy and the Air Force want air support on this mission,” he explained, and Rooster inhaled sharply, “I feel like the room’s spinning, Bradley.”

“Okay, well sit down, don’t pass out!” he demanded, and Mav did as he was told. “Okay, look, the fact is the mission needs to be completed first. Her safety comes first. You can’t be a part of her life if there’s no life to be a part of,” Maverick grimaced at Bradley’s words, but they were true, “so do what you need to do, and you can worry about it later, Mav.”

“Yeah… Yeah that is true.”

“I’ve got to pack. I’ll see you tomorrow and we can figure it out,” he sighed, and Maverick slumped against the wall, closing his eyes for some semblance of peace.

“Alright, talk to you later, Rooster.”

Maverick looked up and stared into the fluorescent light, he had no idea how someone’s life could change so drastically in a matter of hours. Not only did he have a daughter, but if this mission wasn’t successful, he would never get to meet her. He was not only confused, but he was starting to get angry. Maverick was a flight risk, pun not intended, and he had commitment issues, that was pretty much a fact. But never, ever, would he have neglected a child who needed care and love. Never. Especially if it was his own child. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents, he never wanted that for any other child. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t kick himself for putting Bradley through that. Did she even know who he was? Did her mother spend her entire life telling her he was a deadbeat? Would she even want him in her life? His head hurt. Why couldn’t he have been there?

Rooster was right. He couldn’t figure anything else out unless he could speak to her face to face. He had to focus on the mission first and foremost, then he could worry about it all later. He had a job to do.

He had to get his daughter and her wingman home safely.