#i really like the idea of her genuinely liking the traveler and being one of the kinder harbingers; relatively speaking

[alchemania]

Snow White Dove, Blood Stained Wings.

(Or, the Traveler has a harrowing encounter which leaves her reeling.)

There is a shivering blob of white amongst the snow of Dragonspine, and as Lumine draws closer, jet black hair accented by hot pink stands out in sharp contrast.

Oh. That's a body.

“Hello?” the blonde called, kneeling down and ignoring how the cold bit into her legs. “Can you hear me?” No answer, so she shook the smaller person a little roughly, causing a pair of snow white wings to pop up and flitter rapidly as they jolted awake. Lumine screamed and leaned back, trying to avoid getting walloped in the face, and watched as the other person hissed and grabbed their right wing- now that the Traveler looked closer, it was moving oddly …was it broken? “Here, let me help you up. There's a church down in the city,” and strong hands lift the other person out of the snow - now that she can see the face, it seems to be another young lady, and her cheeks and nose are rosy from the chill.

“..thank you,” the girl manages, leaning all her weight on the Traveler. “You are too kind..”

It doesn't take too long to get to the church, taking the teleporters. The petite young lady is tucked into a bed and told to rest, and after ensuring she'll be alright, Lumine makes way to go.

“..it seems the rumors were true, you really will help just about anyone.. I wonder if one day, that will be your downfall..”

Lumine stopped in her tracks, looking to the inhabitant in the bed in her peripheral vision. She looked so small, the blankets covering her up about to her chin, but the room suddenly felt very, veryyyyy cold.

“..what do you mean by that,” she hears herself say, by some miracle.

“Oh…don't pay me any attention,” the raven haired girl placated, waving a hand weakly. “Simply thinking aloud..”.

“..who are you,” Lumine demanded, turning fully around to face the bed as her expression hardened.

“Does that matter..? Would you have left me alone on that mountain to die if you didn't like the answer?”

Silence.

“.. I don't mean you any harm, Traveler, or the people of Mondstadt, if that's what you're worried about," was the quiet reply after a long moment. "I swear it. But I'm aware you do not like the people I work with very much, and so I deemed it best to keep my mouth shut until you offered me assistance.”

“The folks you work with,” Lumine repeated almost dumbly, looking more and more rattled by the moment.

“You got one of my coworkers killed back in Inazuma. Does that ring any bells???”

Lumine can't breathe.

“You're a Harbinger?”

Rapidly, she goes down the list in her mind. Signora was dead, and she'd already met Arlecchino, so this had to be either Sandrone or Columbina.

“Which one?” she barely manages.

“The Damsel,” the girl replies easily, eyes finally opening - they're a beautiful magenta, almost mesmerizing. “Nice to meet you, Traveler. You don't have to be afraid. Like I said, I have no desire to harm you, or anyone here. It's a little disheartening to think you may have simply abandoned me if you knew who I was beforehand….. but at least that's not what happened, no? I don't know why you're so flustered, Master Childe speaks so highly of you -”

“He's NOT my friend!”

There go the wings again, slightly.

“.. we're not all horrible people, you know. Not all of us had a choice in this.”

Lumine thinks of the twins, and Freminet.

Columbina looks sad now, genuinely so.

“...Why can't you understand that?”

“Well, sorry for being a little on edge, considering some of your coworkers have tried to KILL me -”

“But I'm not them. I already said I have no interest in harming you. Do you think that I'm lying?”

Silence, painful.

“Perhaps if you stopped looking at us through your black and white lens, you'll see that we, and you, are much closer to grey than you'd like to admit -”

The door slams, the sound resounding. Lumine is gone.

Columbina closes her eyes, sighing.

“...well. You can't fault a girl for trying.”

She steeples her hands over her chest then, expression thoughtful. “The heart that forever bleeds will one day cease to beat. . I wonder if she will realize that before it's too late. I surely hope so.”

And the Harbinger slept.

[neverendingford]

.

[oceanxveiined]

 Genshin Verse Side Muses:

*Mentions of abuse, dysfunctional families, manipulation, torture, violence, experimentation, ableism, transphobia, and death, not necessarily all present/to various extents depending on each bio, ahead.

1) Chang Da’Lun (500+/appears 23): Half-Adeptus, born some time before the Cataclysm. He can shift into a smaller birdlike form at will, though it does take a bit out of him to switch back. It doesn’t stop him from shifting into it on his own or a friend's whim though.

          His father was a Yaksha named Wuye, alias Caligo, who had inevitably become consumed by his karmic debt and became more akin to a malevolent demon. Though admittedly, the adeptus had already possessed quite the cruel streak, even long before he’d fallen. Being driven mad by the karmic debt meant his slaughters turned to fellow adepti and humans alike, which had also grown to be far more frequent and brutal. Each consumed opponent led his power to grow as he’d absorb their vitality and any abilities they possessed.

          By contrast Da’lun’s mother, Anhe, had been fully human, having been with a group of treasure hunters who’d taken her from her family in ransom when they’d strayed too close to the maddened Yaksha’s territory. When they had realized and tried to sneak away, she risked her life to draw Wuye out and betrayed them all in a desperate bid for freedom and power. She offered them all to be slaughtered and devoured by the corrupted Yaksha, as well as to offered to lure more to satisfy his bloodlust for incentive to make him spare her own life. She even offered to be his mate as well, to let herself be used by him as he saw fit, sparing no expense to give anything and everything she could to ensure she survived this encounter. He conceded out of convenience, taking her as promised and continuing his slaughters about Wuwang Hill with her aid.

          Anhe delighted in having his favor, even with how terrified of him she’d been at first, growing more and more sadistic herself with every massacred he’d rend, every death scream that filled her ears while she remained unscathed. The thrill of power and having a mate so powerful to keep it was too alluring and far too intoxicating, she would never dream of ever parting from him.

         Only for her to end up alone and powerless anyway when the former Yaksha was killed shortly after the birth of Da’Lun.

         Much of his childhood had been Anhe relentlessly tormenting him, using him as a scapegoat for how her life had fallen apart and due to having been affected by his father’s karmic debt as well ( both in her continued presence alongside him up until that point and in stubbornly lingering at his lair where the miasma was all concentrated rather than returning home with him gone ). Da’Lun took the abuse without protest, wholeheartedly believing her and his own guilt. He spent his whole life striving to ‘make up’ for his existence, in bringing her gifts and attempting to make her life easier every way he could. To protect and provide for her as his father had intended.

         It all came to a crashing stop when his mother at last succumbed to the cursed energy infesting their home. Or so he tells himself and anyone who ponders of her fate, not wanting to admit he himself had killed and devoured her. It had been when she’d tried to end his life first and the resulting corruption of them both had his adeptal nature spiraling out of control during the struggle. His Electro Vision had been what had ultimately murdered her, bestowed upon him during his struggle as she denounced and cursed him, which he hadn’t realized until the morning after.

         Plagued with guilt and fear, and knowing he must have taken on her share of the karmic debt's influence, his father's ability considered, he traveled Teyvat to distance himself from his former home for a few years. For 500 years, he witnessed beauty and horrors alike throughout it all, before he decided to settle some time in Sumeru. His main aim had been to learn all he could on humans and their histories ( learning from each Darshan over the course of the centuries he’d spent there, changing his appearance every time he’d reapply ), as well as to pass the time in a way that would not aggravate lingering traces of his father’s influence. It was while he learnt from the Amurta Darshan when he met Danae. With time to spare, and admittedly intrigued by the utter madness of her ideas and her equally frenzied determination to see such impossible fantasies made reality, he signed a contract to assist her in any endeavors she may undertake for them, as she would his own, per its terms. They would maintain it dedicatedly before briefly parting ways when her illicit studies were discovered.

         He himself remained at the Akademiya mere weeks before deciding his life had dulled too much without her odd ideas and eccentric ( not to mention at times exceedingly cruel ) methods, setting off to travel again in search of her. Traveling through his homeland, he would come to meet Ozzy, whom he would follow to Mondstadt, after he’d found him interesting company, especially when the man would encourage him to not feel so wary of the karmic debt’s influence. There, he would become a founding member of his gang when it resulted that the man’s interest had been likewise piqued and thus given him the invitation to stay.

          Ozzy was able to locate and drag Danae into his business thanks to Da’Lun’s scheming and using the terms of their contract to rope her in.

         What could he say? He would be a fool to let one of his favorite toys go. Just as he would the chance to see what would come out of putting so many volatile little components together.

           Surely the end result would be most spectacular indeed.

Oswald “Ozzy” Beauregard / Ásvaldr Bjornsson (appears early 20s): One of the remaining survivors of Khaenri’ah, though he keeps that card very close to his chest, having fled the nation after the surviving the Cataclysm. Only Da’Lun is actually aware of said fact, due to their shared longevity and closer bond compared to many of the others. If asked of his origin, he will always give the half-truth that he is of the Sumeru region. He currently gets a kick out of pretending to work for himself at his little tavern named Fleur de Nuit, from where his gang operates under the guise of a legitimate business.

         Stricken with immortality, Ozzy tends to push the limits of what said immortality will do for him, especially since his perception of pain and danger has been skewed severely by his curse. For the longest time, he had wandered about the desert and Sumeru’s forests, picking fight after fight using the very Abyssal energies he’d been corrupted with. Even with no formal combat training outside teachings he learnt as apprentice mage ( these very learnings being the reason he was was to maintain his appearance as it was, without succumbing to the curse of wilderness ), his increasingly frenzied manner tended to allow him to prove a match for the hilichurls, Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders he encountered, leaving brutalized corpses and wreckages in his wake, and plenty a scar to mar his own body. Some of which healed worse off than others due to his inability and gradual lack of real want to properly care for himself. Eventually, he would be found and formally taken in by the Fatui when he had too grievously injured to fight them off.

Not that he would have wanted to even if he could, considering how much they piqued his interest.

        He had been with them long before Danae had joined, having willingly surrendered himself to be experimented on by Dottore out of boredom and curiosity to see what the man could get out of it. As well as a vain hope to possibly stave off his Erosion and keep his mind with the Abyssal energies eating away at it when his own treatments would prove increasingly inefficient. Needless to say, Ozzy’s sanity had still taken quite the toll throughout the centuries he’s been alive, and the outright torture he faced through the time he’d been with them had truly not helped in the least. Especially not while being injected with god remains had steadily twisted up his mind, more and more. The Abyssal energy he’d already been afflicted with had ironically been what helped keep himself through it though, allowing him to fully assimilate the god’s lingering energy into himself and steady his condition.

         When Danae had decided to desert the Fatui, she broke Ozzy out from containment and left him an experimental Delusion to have him serve as a diversion so she could escape, figuring he would have some exploitable grudge that would prompt him to seek vengeance. And he served his purpose well, slaughtering Fatuus after Fatuus he encountered with the three tail-like, bladed chains he could manifest from it. He did so with great delight and utmost zeal, damn near like an animal in frenzy. But in truth, he really cared not for getting even. He rather merely wanted enrichment, as he called it.

         While Danae had figured the Delusion would simply kill him in the end, his own longevity and the god remains he’d assimilated allowed him to use the Delusion so freely without truly debilitating consequences, though still at certain cost to his body after particularly prolonged usage. It severely aggravates the place with the god remains had been injected, low at his right side where the Abyssal energy was at its highest concentration. Due to it also being the place of his most severe wound and one of the ones that truly never healed properly, it leaves him feeling as though something had been gouged right out every time he’d stop its use. Still, in the moment of that first use, all he could think of was the thrill of the fighting and being able to run about, free at last. To this day, that very thrill is what keeps him using it, even knowing the painful consequences.

         The euphoric high he felt back then lead him to completely destroy the location all together, both in his own kills and in tampering the delicate machinery that would consume the rest of the location along with it in the ensuing explosions. He himself made his getaway before the destruction caught him up along with everything else, after finding and bringing along a fellow victim ( not that he consciously saw himself as such ) of the Fatui experiments.

         After hearing tales of Monstadt, her homeland, the idea of a nation whose Archon had no real say in its ruling appealed to him greatly, Thus, he would hijack and man a Fatui ship to gain leave off Inazuma, heading to the Southern side of Liyue, and making their journey back to Mond that way.

         Ozzy’s aim in making the gang had solely been to collect interesting people to surround himself with, nothing more nothing less. Something to help stave off ennui and keep his mind sharp; a little pet project he could maintain or ruin at his leisure when the time came. It only became a formal organization incidentally, but he finds it a decent pastime to run it and especially the business he and Da’Lun came up with as a front. Especially when he genuinely ended up attached to a certain select few, though he maintains it is only out of how entertaining the lot of them are, themselves and with him.

          Due to past experiences, particularly what he witnessed during the Cataclysm, he has a mild to severely violent visceral reaction to fire based abilities; which is only worsened by his love of deliberately avoiding triggering his own phobia and habit of gambling with extreme stakes, typically involving fire in some way.

         What sort of gambling man would he be if he let something like that stop him, after all?

Elisabeth “Eliza” Merrimack (18) - A Mondsadt-born girl whose family lineage traces back to the Imunlaukr clan, after the clan had broken up due to a schism. Originally Visionless, she would gain a Dendro Vision ( chronologically set late in the events of the Sumeru Archon Quest ) and take up Catalyst-based combat.

         The eldest daughter of her main family at the time, she had a horse riding accident in her youth that left her paraplegic, exhibiting little to no movement in her legs even after treatment at the church. The fact that it had taken them some time to get her there, seeing as she had been lost for days, was probably behind it. Regardless, her family despaired at the incident, frantically trying everything they could to heal her, even as the church insisted nothing could be done. Even as she herself tried to reason it was alright; that she didn't need to be, having accepted their verdict when her family could not. And they never truly did.

         When she was fifteen, the Merrimacks ultimately accepted an offer from the Fatui to aid them ( though in hindsight, Eliza couldn’t but wonder if it had been seen as an excuse to have them take her off their hands ), and carted her off far from home. Betrayed at her family giving her away so easily, especially after she realized they would not check up on her or visit, Eliza at last fell into despair after seeing what awaited her at the hands of the Fatui. Her parents had been lied to, after all–Eliza had not been taken in to receive care, instead becoming subjected to experiments with god remains like every other subject they got their hands on.

          And no one would be aware of that to come save her. Assuming they would even care to try if they did.

         Things began to change years later after meeting Danae, who was assigned to oversee her. To be precise, Danae had at first been in charge of her post-op treatments, ensuring the effects of the experiments didn’t disrupt her vitals and in keeping her alive overall. They began to know more of each other and interact after the then Fatuus had been promoted and would have her as an exclusive subject, due to her ideas and personal project.

          Even with how callous Danae could be, she and Eliza eventually came to get along well due to Eliza coming to understand Danae’s wordless gestures and tough-love care after the former had begun to get attached to Eliza. Said care usually being in the form of snuck treats and material comforts. It wasn’t until later on in their friendship that Eliza learned it had been because she reminded Danae of her younger brother, that she had specifically requested to oversee her treatments because she wanted to help her like she'd intended to help him. Learning why and how she intended to do that did embitter Eliza rather than endear her though.

That said, they truly became each other’s first real friend and confidante after Eliza had been–even if gruffly–encouraged by Danae to start speaking up for herself and the first thing Eliza did was tell her off for thinking she ought to ‘fix’ her and any other person, for that matter. It had been a gut reaction based on Eliza’s own resentment of how her family regarded her as well as the god remains in her acting up due to her agitation.

         Still, even while the burst of temper had startled Eliza, it had been enough for Danae to not only respect the girl, but also to begin to doubt her own goals. Most notably, it was enough to prompt the Fatuus to pick up her old ideas anew rather than continuing the original experiment plan she’d had altogether, choosing to help make amends in fashioning Eliza a special wheelchair to take her out for enrichment. Not that Danae would ever admit that’s what it had been for, even in present day, but Eliza understood and was grateful for it all the same.

            The day Danae broke out, she had actively tried to reach Eliza to bring her along, but was unable to in the chaos she’d wrought and severely underestimated. Thinking her dead, she prioritized her own survival and left without a second thought.

           Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been abandoned once again, rather had been merely confused by the happening and chaos around her. She patiently awaited Danae to come, trusting the Fatuus to soon fill her in and protect her if need be. Instead, it was the newly freed Ozzy who had found Eliza and offered to bring her along after having slaughtered her guards and in hearing her request to see the stars outside before he ‘put her out of her misery’ had moved him.

          And especially because she then tried to cut his throat the instant he got close enough to try and carry her.

          After convincing her he did want to bring her along, not kill her, she at last conceded and let him take her away from the wreckage of the lab. Eliza's tales of her home nation had been the reason Ozzy had chosen to settle there, and she was more than happy to return with him, though flares ups of the god remains in her did pose some problems both were unsure of how to handle. Not that he trusted anyone in Teyvat to be able to take care of her as they should, especially considering how she’d ended up in the Fatui’s hands in the first place.

         Still, she is grateful he took it upon himself to allow her to stay by his side as his ward, even while she couldn’t offer him much in return in terms of fighting skill, money, or knowledge besides that of her home. When he founded his gang, she did find purpose in aiding with the logistics aspect of running the front for his gang, using the learnings of her youth. Without her, it would have fallen apart from the start, Ozzy would always say, leaving her giddy with excitement and her heart full. After finding and enacting a solution to quell the unstable god remains in her ( taken place post-Sumeru archon quest, story-wise ), she would start taking a more active role in the gang as aid to their resident healer. In addition, her wheelchair would be adapted for combat, to suit her needs and her Vision’s abilities.

          She is well aware that elemental concentrations worsen the god remains' extreme and dangerous flare ups, but she still constantly insists upon staying with everyone else in the gang and utilizing a soothing device relying on Elemental energy anyways. She’d rather spend it in comfort and with her friends, even the lot of them encourage her to when she frets what could come out of it ( even Ozzy telling her the risk of that danger is exactly why they are so comfortable was a twisted solace that wound up giving her more confidence to accept her wants to be with them ). Once the traces of god remains in her would be sealed off enough, she is able to head out with them with her wheelchair from that point on, as well as set at ease her fears of hurting them. She still feels chronic flares up of pain due to her affliction, but with less risk of it going out of control and killing her dear friends, she can bear it a lot easier.

          After all she’d been through, this was nothing. Nothing, in the face of being able to smile and delight in her life to the fullest once more.

Durene (19): Hailing from Natlan, Durene is a demigodess, born from the union of a mortal man, Jevaun, and a nature godess Jaladri, whom he had ensnared with a talisman along with several of his friends and fellow warriors when her tempests had threatened their home village. She had fallen for him when he had been watching over her, and had been the kindest of her captors, eventually conceding to be his wife after enough time in his company, as well as certain courtship of his had won her over.

          Even while bound to human form, Jaladri had been content in their union at first, up until her husband began to get exceedingly paranoid and possessive of her following being imbued with several of her blessings that granted him great strength and renown in his tribe. She began to grow miserable, cursing Jevaun and unable to do much to fight him as he was, as her powers had become considerably weaker compared to his over the years, especially after Durene’s birth. And it didn’t help that it was especially so because the man kept her away from the sea, an important source of vitality for her. Still the goddess did not fault her daughter upon her birth, teaching Durene the ways to be a soothsayer and healer so she could properly go through the initiation process and her actual training in the village once she was of the apt age. At the same time, Jevaun had taught Durene the art of war and trained with her every chance he got, hoping his daughter could bring him renown and glory with her exploits in the yearly games.

          Durene took to both her learnings quite well, eager at the thought of being able to contribute to village and her family this way. She particularly excelled in serving as an herbalist and healer, though she did work hard to improve her skills when it came to divination to impress her mother. It always did seem to put Jaladri in a far better mood whenever she did, as well as when she would listen to her mother’s tales of gods and places she’d been, of her life prior to being confined to mortal form. Of their Archon, and her great deeds. More than anything, she loved singing for her mother, songs she learned from her and the others in the village, seeing how her voice seemed to bring the goddess some semblance of solace, when she felt her weakest.

         At twelve years old, Durene had bonded with a Koholasaurus she'd named Aje, who helped her gather materials from the seas and magma caves, often keeping Jaladri company whenever Durene would gather from the land, or while she worked to make her treatments or to preserve her supplies. Around that time, she also learned the full story of her mother’s plight. Horrified and moved, she would elect to repay her mother all she’s taught her in concocting a clever plan to gleam out from her drunken father the location of each piece of the talisman needed to complete the needed ritual and free the goddess. With this knowledge, Durene was able to find and bring them to her mother with Aje's aid. The goddess would aid her in completing the necessary steps once it had all come together. As her bonds would break and her strength returned, Jaladri lamented being unable to take her child with her. Promising to return with a means to ascend her as soon as she could, the goddess would transform into a pillar hundreds of crabs that would scatter into the sea and leave Durene standing alone at the outcropping. Bittersweet and all-too brief as their parting was, she felt content in knowing her mother would be happy at last.

          The good mood would not last long, as Jevaun flew into a deadly rage in realizing what had happened when he awoke to the sounds of a howling sea storm after she returned home.

          His rage did not frighten her, even as he demanded answers. Did the she not care about their village? Of what the goddess would do to them, now that she was free? Of why she’d been confined to mortality in the first place?

Durene truly cared not, insisting Jaladri had borne and suffered enough under his suffocating hold. If they were all to be destroyed in her vengeful wrath, it was for the slight they’d done against her, and thus truly fair.

          Her answers would brand her a traitor in the eyes of her father and, to his claims, their people. To ensure the goddess wouldn’t completely destroy them, he killed Aje and locked Durene away, making made sure Jaladri could never find her and that no one else would in turn ever think to help free her, as no one else would be aware of where she'd 'disappeared' to. As far as anyone knew, she and her Saurian companion had been killed while gathering materials.

          She couldn’t say how much time had passed since he’d left her there. Days, then weeks, then months went by languishing in her prison, in the presence of no one else but her father, whenever he would stop by to bring her food. If her refusal to concede to his pleas to betray her mother and attempts to break out didn’t enrage him enough to leave her to her own devices the next few, that was. It wasn’t until she’d exhausted every desperate, rage and grief-stricken attempt at escaping that Durene formulated a proper plan to escape.

          The next time Jevaun came to see her, he found his daughter seemingly unresponsive. The man freed her from her bonds and frantically attempted to wake her, only to find his daughter conscious after all, taking advantage of his closeness to grab hold of him. The man was only able to catch a brief glimpse of her newly bequeathed Anemo Vision mere moments before she would sap the breath from his lungs. Her face, twisted in every trace of hatred and resentment she felt towards him, was the last thing he’d ever see as he would succumb. Durene would hold no remorse for her actions, even as the village people would come to find her and try to seize her in retaliation.

          Escaping their clutches and leaving them to the mercy of her mother’s wrath, Durene would take to travel about Teyvat as a wandering soothsayer, making a pretty coin on divination and healing. Truly, that whole time she had been seeking a way she may ascend to join her mother, sparing no expense wherever she may go. She'd even forged a binding vow for herself, giving up her tongue, and thus ability to speak in exchange for power. Through her journey, she fostered a particular resentment born in her in Sumeru and the way the Akademiya had gone about managing knowledge at the time ( such as the reason they had rejected entry for her, thinking her to be of the desert folk ). Which lead to her resolving to ensure that place would be the first she may pay a visit to once she reached her goal, to tear it asunder for the offense, seeing as its god would surely not be able to match her when the time came.

          It was in being found by Ozzy in Liyue and being requested to come with him, Eliza, and Da'Lun along the way that she came to have company once more. The final founding member of his gang, she would happily settle in Mond with them. But by no means does this mean she had given up on her goal. With Da'Lun and his influence, as well as the addition of Danae later on, Durene would find use in the team’s members to further seek the information she required for her own ultimate goal. Who knew, perhaps she would just need to be a little more patient, just a little bit longer.

           Well, fine by her. That, she had plenty practice in.

Jaeda Purmizra (18): The daughter of an affluent family in Sumeru and the most recent addition to Ozzy’s gang. She joined them after running away from home and continuously hitching rides on caravans then later merchant ships that guided her to Dorman Port in Mondstadt. From there, she hid among a lucrative-looking delivery, which lead her to Ozzy’s tavern, where she would be promptly caught for having stolen foods from the convoy and attempted to make off with other items to try and sell in the main city. Danae had nearly left her bound and at the complete mercy of Treasure Hoarders as punishment, had Eliza not intervened and personally pleaded her case to Ozzy. He accepted to take Jade in as well, only because he knew it would anger Danae in the process, and because he was intrigued by her Vision in particular,

          Born male and then named Jahar, Jade had been the family’s sole heir and was raised into the role accordingly ( read: impossibly strict ) by her mother. It was thanks to a young servant girl who tended to her every need that she even began to experiment with and realized her actual gender identity. All because the girl had wanted to play dress up and needed a friend to help her, not realizing all the decorum she was breaking in daring to ask the heir, of all people, such a thing.

          It had been quite the relief in realizing it, though, even when she hadn’t been actively searching for it. But to her, it meant everything from then on. And it meant despair, as she continued to masquerade as her mother’s precious only son and heir. She didn’t want to upset her mother, after all, especially since the woman banked so much of her bid for power as head of the family upon her. So she kept that her little secret, playing with the girl and growing up happily alongside her over the years.

         Up until she and the girl had been caught playing.

         The girl had been punished severely for her ‘crime’ and Jade was forced to bear witness to the bloody ordeal for humoring her. Only after the girl was left near death did Jade face her own punishment, the horrid humiliation her mother enforced upon her before an audience of the woman’s closest friends and advisers.

          The anger she felt in seeing the life dwindling in her friend’s eyes and the cruelty she faced ignited a single-minded determination to make every last person in the room pay for her beloved friend's pain, enough to for her to black out, coming to only when her mother had screamed.

Snapping back to consciousness, Jade felt bloodcurdling horror and cathartic relief in realizing she’d burnt her mother’s lovely face beyond recognition, every other cruel person who’d participated in her torment left as naught but charred corpses in her wake. In spotting the gleaming, blood-red gem clutched tightly in her hand.

          She didn’t stay long, stealing her friend away and running away from home with an intent to bring her along. They could make a life together away from them now, she was sure of it. She had a Pyro Vision after all, she was no longer powerless to protect them!

            With the severity of the girl’s wounds though, her friend had little time left. With her last breath, the girl made her promise to live life for the both of them and to be happy. To stay safe, and never let anyone dictate how she may live her life ever again.

          That day, Jahar died along with the servant girl. In his place and bearing the name of that girl to carry on her memory, Jaeda would set off to find that happiness she’d promised.

Mako du Raie (16): A Visionless young heir to a prolific merchant family in Fontaine, and the member who had joined the Snake-Eyes gang before Danae and Tua had. His father, Benshi, had been a doushin from Inazuma and met Mako’s mother, Marie, while she learnt the trade from her father, prior to the Sakoku Decree being fully enacted. Mako is their illegitimate child, though he was claimed to be his mother’s younger brother to save face for the family. As such, he was raised primarily under the strict watch of his grandmother and even stole the title of heir to the family from Marie, due to the story they’d given him.

         He took to his studies like a fish to water, being quite bright and precocious for his age. And in his eagerness to pursue his grandmother’s approval, he went far above and beyond the efforts his mother had ever put into her own. The family agreed he was definitely a far more suitable heir than she as a result, though he avoided his mother’s jealous wrath by asking she be involved in everything he did. Like this, the woman’s temperament was appeased, her going as far as to even take credit behind his talent and boast of him to all who would meet them.

          In all honesty, he would have been content enough handing her the reins of the family, had a business venture to Mondstadt not changed his mind entirely. His mother’s boasting lead to drawing Ozzy’s attention, the man having been seeking a nice, convenient little liaison for his gang’s front. With the boy being as young as he was, not only would he be easy to exploit, but his talent and influence would absolutely prove worth the effort to draw him in, just as he'd hope.

          As such, Da'Lun would be the one to meet and gain his trust. To persuade him to join Ozzy’s gang as their merchant contact. And, to ensure Mako’s position and control over his family’s affairs, Da'Lun would even go as far as to encourage Mako to eliminate each and every family member that could possibly stand in his way of managing it all himself.

           Mako couldn’t help but give in, even with how complacent he’d been before. Even being fully aware of the horrific task he would have to taken on to ensure his control over the family's business and finances. All it took was being given the affection and doting he always wanted, rather than lauded praises for his potential and saccharine-sweet yet ultimately empty words he knew better than to believe. It took one friend, who cared and spoiled him so, to make him turn his previous wishes of simplicity and contentment from before and pursue a more ruthless ambition without a qualm. Even as he gazed into his mother’s dulling eyes, frozen in horror and anguish, he would only feel a strong sense of satisfaction as he stepped over her without a qualm. As he would make his way over to Da'Lun, who would fondly ruffle his hair with genuine praises aplenty before carrying him back to Ozzy’s little haunt.

           He knew full well he was to be used by Ozzy’s group, having realized it early on in Da'Lun’s attempts to worm his way into his heart. But once he’d met with the others in the gang and Ozzy himself, there was no longer a single trace of lingering doubt in his heart that his brutal choice had been in his best interest. Looking at the lot of them gathered to see him, all varying shades of proud of what he’d accomplished, no matter how horrific, he determined the excitement and validation that came with what they did was a lot better than living his life within conventional rules.

            Where else could he feel like he was at the top of the world like this?

Tusitala / Tua (20): Originally hailing from a coastal village in Natlan then migrating to and eventually settling in Liyue due to his father’s relentless pursuit of riches and lack of interest in the wars that ravaged their nation, Tua had been a Treasure Hoarder well before his coming of age. He is rather proud of the fact, too, often boasting of his own successes compared to other factions, especially after he’s fought his way through a group of them in a show of his own Natlanian battle prowess. 

At first it had been at his father’s urging that he joined and stayed with the Treasure Hoarders they’d met up with on their way to Liyue Harbor. It was only to serve as something to make for a side hustle while his father took care of other business dealings at first ( taking care of logistics for that gang while Tua himself got to take on the more dangerous aspects, as he also managed an artifact appraisal business with things Tua and the gang would bring in ), then it became Tua’s sole obsession as his own greed grew, right along his addiction for every victory and bounty he secured them.

         Tua was quite content with this life, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world to have this chance. Even if he did have to surrender near all of his share of their spoils to his father, to quell the man's avarice ( and to ensure the man didn't try and take it all from him, by force or outright theft ). But with what he was allowed to keep or what he managed to squirrel away to pass off as such later, Tua would take to decorating himself handsomely to show off his successes. As such, he’s got several piercings ( many of which he did himself ) along his body, as well as bits of gold embedded in his skin, particularly about his shoulders. He also has a few tattoos to commemorate his victories and his comrades, which glow whenever he uses his Vision.

          Speaking of, his Geo Vision came to him during a show of his conviction to protect his Treasure Hoarder ‘family’ by all means and any costs. In this case, it had been in protecting them from a squadron of Milileth by the skin of his own teeth then later its aid, having chosen to cover them on his own to ensure they could make off with a particularly rich score. Because of it, he became quite popular among them, with the lot thinking he would lead them to the greatest successes and eventually take over rival gangs and become their overall leader.

          The thought strongly appealed to him, enough that he resolved to make it a reality. As leader, he would have a greater right to a bigger share of the spoils, and he could be independent enough to break away from his father, too. And of course, being able to protect his closest comrades and look after them with greater responsibility and authority. That was his greatest desire above all else, one he would swear before them during the celebration of his blessing by the Lord of Geo.

          Though he did eventually fail to keep his promise to them when a conflict with Fatui, and severely underestimating them, left his group all slaughtered or near death, himself included. With his last lingering traces of full consciousness, he lamented not being strong enough to protect them all, and expected to meet his shameful end along with them.

          However his survival had been ensured when Danae had stumbled across the massacre. Though initially focused on eliminating the injured and resting Fatui and with her own hatred of Treasure Hoarders having her near ready to ditch them all as it was, it was due to her having determined his potential usefulness upon noting his Vision that prompted her to nurse him back to health.

          Deliberately leaving all the others to their fates, as she didn’t need them.

          When Tua would ask later after awakening, she would swear they were all goners by the time she had found him. That Tua had supposedly been the only one strong enough to survive because of his Vision.

          Grief would take hold, but he wouldn’t linger on that feeling too much. Not enough for it to consume him, anyways. Not when his savior made him an offer to come with her, a suggestion to carry on in his comrades’ names and honor their memories in continuing to plunder and seek the treasures they'd so craved. Feeling both indebted to her and a thrumming need to protect someone once more now that he was without a family ( he dared not return to his father nor join up with a new Hoarder faction after such a harrowing defeat ), he would choose to follow Danae to Mondstadt.

          Along the way and upon reaching their destination, they would take up mercenary work and end up wrapped up in the group they currently associate with now, after participating in an attempt on the young head of the Snake-Eyes gang alongside others like them. Said hit actually having placed by the young head, Ozzy, himself, using it as a ploy for recruitment to test if Danae had been worth Da'Lun's recommendation to his group. Tua likewise making it out alive alongside her and having demonstrated his immense strength and capabilities had been the icing on the cake. He was more than happy to accept the offer to join after that, no need for incentives or anything.

          Well, okay, maybe the pay grade and further chances to seek riches while with them was a pretty good incentive. That, and being able to take part in a whole new gang he could protect and grow stronger with helped convince him, too. There was something reassuring about being able to protect them them of all people, those who didn’t need to depend wholly on him and could defend themselves should his strength fail them. But would still rely on his skills to add to their own, and truly ensure they would all be okay. And he will make sure they would be. He refused to lose any one of 'his own' ever again, swearing the very same oath he gave his late comrades before.

          He will protect his newfound family, with all he has. Whatever it takes.

Mason Ennosigaeus (17): Sidon’s actual biological child. He was stolen away from his family by Morjena when she had found out of his existence, snatching him during the chaos she'd set off after tricking Eremites into looting the caravan the man's wife had traveled with on her way to the main city. It was a move meant to ensure Danae had no competition to being the man’s heir, especially after the woman and her attendants had been killed in the ensuing struggle. Danae was supposed to kill Mason upon being left with him, as Morjena had thought she’d thoroughly beaten the heart out of her. When it turned out that she hadn’t and even wound up with an attachment to the boy, Mason became an opportunity for Morjena to ensure Danae stuck around, regardless of the abuse she faced, regardless of how much harder she became to control the older she got.

           Mason himself was frequently abused by Morjena while Danae was gone and quickly came to rely on the latter for everything. Not that it necessarily meant he was entirely helpless. His weak constitution left him frail as it was, sure, but in truth, Danae never failed to endlessly dote on him every chance she was home to see him, even going as far as to sacrifice her own meals for his sake. She would even forgo sleep to guard him against Morjena as best she could, and when she did, she would deliberately sleep in a way that if the woman pulled anything, she would be the one to take the brunt of her mother’s abrupt assaults. Every little thing he could ever want or need and THEN some was his at his command, and without hesitation. He need only ask. She couldn't offer him comforts like reassurances and gentleness, but this, this she could do for him. And he was wholly all for it, appreciating the one good thing he had amid the horrid life he was stuck in.

             Inevitably, her boundless devotion and their environment twisted him up as badly as it had her, albeit in a different way. The one who truly wound up heartless and cruel, through and through, just as Morjena was, had been him.

          He may come off as shy and unassuming but in truth, he is twice as vicious and self-serving as Danae, behind the gentle demeanor. He is the one person who can ask of her to do anything at his whim, no matter what it is, no matter how hurt she would end up in the process. And he's used that, time and again to sic her on whoever it was he so chose, be it strangers for his own amusement or even people he's realized she started to get a little too close to, in selfish need to ensure she wouldn't start giving away her loyalties. To test that she truly did mean her loyalties to him, and act accordingly if she hesitated or doubted. In his eyes, he still needed her to survive, after all. Especially after an encounter with hilichurls had nearly taken his life, and had cost him his legs just above his knees, even after being rushed to Birmastan.

          At the same time, he is also the person others could use to strongarm Danae into damn near anything if they hold him captive, as any threats to him lead her to be all to eager to comply for his safety ( though woe betide those who lose him as a bargaining chip at any point during ). He is the One and Only Thing she has left to lose, but the feeling is not mutual. It hasn’t been from the moment she’d left him at the Akademiya on his own.

          Even having been left in the lap of luxury when she'd been forced to flee, being torn from her side and the endless doting, from his greatest asset, left him stewing in a resentful rage. His bitterness and broken heart earned him a Cryo Vision amid the enraged outburst within his room, gleaming enticingly within the wreckage of her final gift to him. That Vision, however, he deemed the greatest gift of all, and one he thoroughly believes was the Tsaritsa’s personal wish to him and show of support.

         As such, as of earning his Vision, he swiftly abandoned the idea of staying at the Akademiya. Instead, he sought to join the Fatui, using his power as incentive to be kept of use to them alongside the Cicin Mages. Though he was sure to mask what he did, telling Danae he got to travel for his studies so she never suspects. So her constant stream of money and gifts from afar never end, having them brought to him by agents he roped into his whims that happened to be stationed in Sumeru.

          In learning she had also once joined the Fatui only to abruptly disappear, he knew before any of the lot that she was still alive, and elected to keep this fact to himself, to ensure none of his comrades could seek out and find her. However his intentions are far from protective out of any genuine concern. He has full intentions to personally hunt her down and make her face the full consequences for abandoning him. And the Fatui, too, of course. But if possible, he would like to be the one to bring her end himself. To look her right in the eyes as he would use his Vision to make of her a pristine statue for himself to keep.

         Maybe then she’ll actually keep her promise to never leave his side.

[merchelsea]

Could you write something really fluffy about Lando Norris x reader? Maybe something were their relationship is fairly new and it’s only like the 2nd or 3rd race week the reader has been to and she starts to get sick. She doesn’t feel well at all and try’s to hide it from lando so he can focus on the race but he eventually finds out and is all worried and cuteee

worried sick — lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: it’s her first time attending a grand prix and also flying and she doesn’t want anything to ruin her boyfriend’s race, but she gets sick in the process.

author’s note: sorry for taking so long to get to the heart of your request (fluff) but i needed to give context to his worriess

word count: 3k

warnings: curse words

masterlist | requests (open)

you sat on the dinner table, unable to speak. the fork fell from your hand the moment you heard lando's proposal and your eyes followed it's trail.

lando genuinely thought this would be a good idea, but seeing your reaction, with his eyebrows lifted, he may have changed his mind.

you had been dating for quite some time, four months and sixteen days, to be precise, but you were still a little aprehensive about the attention.

from the start, he warned you and gave you an easy way out of his life, but your love overpowered your fears.

even in a relationship, you and lando did everything you could to keep you out of the public eye, and it was working. no one knew about you and him and you liked that. but you were aware that he wanted you by his side while facing the adventures that his job provided him, and that he didn't want to keep you as a secret forever.

so when he made the invitation, it didn't surprise you, but you had to think about it.

you looked at him, he was wearing some jeans and a white hoodie that made him adorable in your eyes. he was looking at you, and you could notice him telling you it was okay to say no with his look.

but there was still a glimpse of hope in his beautiful green eyes, and in your mind you took another look at the pros and cons.

you could scratch out a couple of cons... like the fact that you liked being private. it was true, but you didn't mind not being a secret, and you would never like the idea of having famous and stunning women thinking that your boyfriend was available.

so with a soft look, in that modernly decorated dinning room in his home, you nodded your head.

"i think we could go to china together, yeah." he gave you a confused glance, but refrained from questioning you, afraid you would change your mind.

"great!" he stood up and walked over to you, "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before taking his empty plate to the sink.

you watched him come back and sit with you while you finished your own plate. you couldn't say you were hungry anymore, a hundred and one scenarios of what could go wrong in the hard launch of your relationship played in your mind.

lando's presence made it a little easier for you, though. you could only be thankful.

you had never traveled by plane before, so you were pretty nervous.

china was really far from monaco, and your boyfriend told you that the flight would take 11 hours minimum, so you couldn't help feeling anxious.

he held your hand when he noticed your strange behaviour and you immediately intertwined your fingers together.

"it's going to be okay, love." norris kissed the back of your hand and you walked inside of the plane, hand in hand.

of course lando booked the first class seats. he knew about this fear of yours, so whatever he could do to help you out, he would.

you sat down and lando closed the little blind on the window by his side, so you didn't see how far from the ground you were.

you had your headphones on and lando held you close as the plane started moving. you were still not off the ground but the plane shaking scared the fuck out of you. you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the music. it wasn't easy. it was only when the plain stabilized in the air that you could open your eyes again.

"do you want water, food, anything?" your boyfriend asked as he noticed you were a little more calm now.

"water, maybe." you answered, still not feeling completely safe. "and can you open the blind please, i want to see."

"'you sure?" he asked, his hand already on the end of the blind.

"yup."

lando opened up the blind and you peeked through the window. you were already far from the ground and instead of feeling anxiety, that view actually made you a little more calm.

"it's beautiful." you whispered, body leaning towards lando so you could see it better.

the british boy's eyes were on you when he whispered back. "it really is." with a smile.

eventually you sat properly in your seat again and talked to lando as time passed.

you fell asleep with and lando carefully laid your chair back, took out your headphones and covered you with a blanket. he laid his chair back as well and watched you as you slept peacefully. you still had nine hours left and he knew you would be awake for the landing, which he didn't want.

you could only manage to sleep for 2 hours and when you woke up, you noticed your boyfriend sleeping. so the next hours were spent playing games in your mobile phone while you listened to taylor swift.

it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be, and it was only when landing that you felt the uneasy feeling come back. lando held you close through it, as he was used to it.

"it's okay, baby." he whispered. "i'm right here." his reassurence meant more to you than he imagined, and it helped as well.

everything went better than expected and you left the airport hand in hand just half an hour after getting out of the plane.

you felt tired, but it was still morning in china. lando seemed okay, he was already used to all the time changes, since he did this for a living.

"what d'you think about breakfast?" he asked as you passed a coffee shop.

lando was driving to the hotel you two would be staying in, and you honestly just wanted to rest. but you could'nt say no to a good breakfast.

"oh, great idea. i'm starving." you said and he chuckled.

"me too." he stated as his hand found place in your thigh. it stayed there until he needed to use it, to change gear.

he parked the car in front of the cute shop and you both walked in.

you both ordered and sat down talking to eachother until the food came. the driver explained the goods and the bads of the race here. and told you what he liked most about china.

you had done some research about the place yourself because you wanted to take profit of your time here.

as lando would probably have some meetings with the team and you would be alone, you decided to visit some interesting places of the city and even near cities.

you ate in a comfortable silence and left for the hotel as soon as you could. his team took care of the check in so you and him were able to just go straight to your room.

you felt yourself a little too soft, but never said anything because you didn't think it was anything serious and worrying him was something you were not going to do.

deciding to take a nap before doing anything, lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket over your bodies.

"i love the feeling of having you here." he murmured to your ear.

"i love being here with you." you told him honestly, falling asleep some moments later.

lando though it was weird, since you normally took some time to get to sleep, specially in new places.

when you first stayed the night at his place it took you two hours and a really boring movie.

he remembered it could've been caused by the flight or the time difference. the british was now used to it, but it was your first time, and it was a long flight.

he fell asleep thinking about it because, being honest, you were both more than exhausted.

you woke up just a couple of hours later, coughing, and imediately realized you had gotten sick, and were just in the first stages. you got up from the bed and went to the bathroom so you didn't disturb lando's sleep.

"this can't be happening" you whispered to your reflection in the mirror.

'it can be just a cold, everything will be okay in time for the race' you thought to yourself, trying to calm down.

it was frustrating, to be fair. you had been avoiding coming to his races for months, and when you finally decided to come you got sick.

however, you did not want that to get in the way of lando's weekend, so through the next two days, in which your boyfriend had free practices and qualifying, you pretended to be okay. it was not so easy because norris made every effort to make you feel okay there. that means he talked to every one of his mates and asked them to talk to their own girlfriends, to see if they were interested in meeting you, for his delight but not so yours, they all said yes.

so you were not only busy with pretending to be healthy but also trying to be nice to everyone and making people like you.

it wasn't that hard, you all just found something in common, that was your love for fashion and animals, and talked about it. you were pretty satisfied with the outcome of saturday, and so was lando, managing to get himself on fourth position, with two cars ahead he knew he could get out of his way.

he was starting to find your behaviour a little weird, as soon as you got home you took a really quick shower and got yourself comfortable in bed. he asked you if you were not going to get dinner with him and you told him you would just take a little nap, and asked him to wake you up once the food arrived.

the brit did as you said and tried to wake you up, but you told him you were not hungry in the moment. he made you eat anyways, because tomorrow was a big day and you didn't really have the energy to argue with him.

you both had a good dinner and what was his surprise when you got back to your bed and immediately fell asleep.

he tried to push his suspicions away but he was seriously getting worried. he laid next to you and held you close with one arm, the other resting behind his head as he thought. not only about you and your strange sleeping schedule but also about the circuit.

there was this one curve that he just couldn't get right, and he needed to get it tomorrow. or else he'd lose his chance of a podium or even a win.

he would never want to lose a podium, but with you here, the pressure was different. he wanted to do better for you. he needed to, after dragging you all the way to a new country and making you face your fear of planes.

he eventually fell asleep, your body so close to his comforting him and calming his mind that was going probably faster than his car.

you woke up first, in the morning. but, unlike the other two days, where you managed to get it together and pretend you were okay, today you had a huge headache along with an unbearable malaise.

immediately realizing you were not okay, you decided to not go to the track with lando. you were still planing to go, yes, but later on, after you took some medicine and felt better.

he was a little reluctant in letting you all by yourself because something inside him still thought that something was off. sleeping a lot, not feeling hungry, avoiding his touch and kisses (you did that once, but he still took note), it all felt a little weird.

but you convinved him, telling him that he no longer had time to wait for you and you still needed to get dressed and do your makeup.

"i'm going. but message me as soon as you get to the track, please. i want to see your pretty face before getting in the car." he asked you, his beautiful green eyes focused on yours.

you nodded your head and he pecked your lips. smiling, he turned around and left the hotel room. you decided to take a shower to see if it helped in any way.

it didn't.

you grabbed your phone and searched for lando's personal assistant's contact. someone needed to be informed about this, but you didn't want to alarm your boyfriend just before the big moment of the weekend.

he was really sweet to you, and suggested you stayed in bed and watched the race from the hotel. you were a little apprehensive about how lando would feel about this but he tried to calm you down as best as he could, telling you he knew the driver would understand and probably even be more worried than anything else.

he also promised to only tell lando once he couldn't do anything about it. of course you had asked.

was he going to be pissed? probably. did he love you more than anything and would he forget about all the rest in order to check up on you? absolutely.

once he was told about it, the only thing he could do was text you, so he ran to his phone and quickly wrote a message to you.

'baby i was just informed. i'm so sorry for not noticing.'

your heart clenched in your chest as you read his text. it was not his fault and you felt bad for making him believe that it was.

'it's not your fault, lan. and i'm okay'

you added a little heart at the end and sent it, automatically seeing the 'read' under the blue text baloon.

'you sure?? i can get someone to get you to a doctor'

you smiled at the screen, behind that smile was the way he didn't even hesitate to show you he cared and he worried.

'there's no need, i took some medicine and i'm better now. but good luck on the race. i'll be rooting for you.'

on the other side of the screen, lando sighed, he hated that he couldn't do anything about it but knowing you were okay comforted him a little. so he smiled and typed to you.

'thanks babe! i will be coming back to you as soon as i can, promise you.'

you simply liked his message, letting him focus before the race.

on the bed, you watched the entire race, as you always did. and you were so genuinely happy and proud of him for finishing second, that for a couple of minutes you even forgot you were sick.

you watched the podium celebrations and couldn't help but notice that your boyfriend wasn't as happy as he should be. of course he smiled receiving the trophy, and sprayed champagne on the other podium sitters, which were max and checo, but you knew him, and his smile wasn't as wide as usual.

you sat through and watched the interviews on sky sports. it seemed that you were not the only one who noticed his under-excitement, because that was the first thing the journalist questioned.

"so, lando norris. you just came second here in china. first of all, congratulations. second of all i have got to tell you that all of us were expecting a different reaction from you. you don't seem very excited."

he looked at the woman behind the camera atentively, but anyone with functional eyes could see that his mind was elsewhere. he smiled briefly at the end of her statement.

"well, thank you. and yeah, i'm not in the best mood but that has nothing to do with the race. i know i did my best out there and gave everything i could. unfortunately, max was still there, but we'll keep working, as a team, to get to him."

he smiled and the interview continued, as usual he discussed some technical stuff and gave his perspective on some bits of the race.

"right now i just want to go back to the hotel, to my girlfriend, who isn't here because she got sick, and give her all the love she deserves."

he smiled to the camera and left, leaving the space for others. you saw him walking with oscar behind alonso, who was now giving his own interview.

it didn't take long before you got a message from him, telling you he managed to escape some media duties to go back to you.

you smiled to yourself before answering, and then distracted yourself until you heard the door being unlocked.

jumping from the bed, you rushed towards your boyfriend when he arrived.

"easy there, baby." lando pulled you into a hug, one of his hands in your hair while the other circled your body.

"amazing race, my love." you whispered into his neck. he smiled and when his grip loosened, his lips met yours in a quick but lovely kiss.

"you've got me worried sick, you muppet." he smiled, but looking into his green iris you knew he was serious.

"didn't mean to worry you, i'm sorry," he shook his head and softy kissed your temple.

"don't be sorry. but nex time it happens, let me know. i wouldn't have made you go to practices and quali, and you could've rested."

his fingers caressed your hair and he pulled you to lay your head in his chest. you would never know how worried he got, and how he could only rest his mind after having you in his arms.

"i just didn't want you to worry unnecessarily. i thought i could go through it." your eyes made it possible for him to know that you were being honest. he let out a sigh.

"it's not unnecessarily, you stubborn thing. i love you and i care about you, and i wanted to be here for you." you pull your head back and lock eyes with him.

"i love you too. and thank you."

he kissed you again, all smiley.

you both decided to just lay in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day. you ordered dinner hours earlier, so you didn't have to worry about it later.

lando told you all about his race. from the lights out to the checkered flag he talked you through his decisions and his process of thinking in the moment.

he also kept asking you from time to time how you were feeling and if you needed anything.

you realized just how much you loved him and appreciated the way he cared for you.

once he fell asleep, you smiled out of pure happiness for having him by your side. no matter how much you had liked being kept a secret for a while, in that moment all you wanted was for people to know you loved him.

cause you did, more than you thought you could.

© merchelsea

if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works, let me know ;)

[areyouwell]

Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

��I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt. 

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically. 

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly. 

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile. 

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought. 

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him. 

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man. 

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name. 

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance. 

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly. 

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless. 

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of. 

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. 

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?” 

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned. 

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level. 

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?” 

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.” 

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying. 

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door. 

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless. 

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless. 

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly. 

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering. 

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement. 

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man. 

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you. 

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him. 

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here. 

He was in huge trouble. 

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that. 

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about. 

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling. 

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder. 

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room. 

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you. 

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return. 

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either. 

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything. 

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little. 

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion. 

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?” 

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped. 

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone. 

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features. 

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck. 

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?” 

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met. 

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door. 

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?” 

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it. 

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head. 

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. 

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more. 

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation. 

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths. 

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited. 

Fuck’s sake. 

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing. 

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits. 

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips. 

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent. 

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second. 

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening. 

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that. 

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this. 

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking… 

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time. 

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?” 

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands. 

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine. 

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe. 

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities. 

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide. 

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.” 

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself. 

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence. 

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill. 

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought. 

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one. 

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you. 

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features. 

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance. 

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care. 

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young? 

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down. 

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?” 

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care. 

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you. 

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours. 

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all. 

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain

a/n: Thank you again for reading this series, I really love writing it :) More to come! I really really appreciate feedback, as always ♡

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 5 ☁

Series Masterlist

~~

“It’s going to feel like a push,” Rhys explained, his fingers intertwined between his knees. “And then you’ll know I’m in your mind. It shouldn’t hurt—maybe just a pinch and then a pressure.” 

You nodded, clutching the arms of your chair with white-knuckled fingers. 

“He’s in my mind all the time. Uninvited, might I add. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just annoying,” Mor added. 

Turning your head in her direction, eyes downcast toward the floor, you nodded to her, too. 

The faelights gave the room a warm amber hue. It was the day after you met Rhys—or rather, became reacquainted with him—and the day he was going to look for your memories. Mor sat beside you, the blue dress she wore shimmering beneath the glow of the room, and Azriel stood guard by the door. What he was guarding you from, you had no idea, but the act seemed to comfort him. 

“Was Cassian busy?” you asked, and then immediately regretted it. 

It wasn’t Cassian’s job to be here. He was a grown man with a position in this court. He was busy, obviously. You also barely knew him. 

What a stupid question.

Rhys breathed through a smile, anyway. “He’s up at the camps today. But I’ll let him know you asked for him. He’ll love that.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” 

“He’ll love it. I was being genuine,” Rhys comforted, interrupting the anxiousness rising in your tone. “Should we get started?”

You took a deep breath meant to rid the feeling of nausea overtaking you. It didn’t work. 

“Yes,” you replied, easing your trembling fingers into your lap. “Yes, I’m ready.” 

Rhys kicked up from the table he was leaning against, spinning a chair around in front of you. He sat, and the instant his knees bent to make the descent, Azriel was out from his hiding place in the dark. He loomed over the High Lord, shadows agitated, wings tucked in tight. To his credit, Rhys only gave the new, menacing presence a quick glance. 

“Should I keep my eyes open? Or do we have to touch or—” 

“Just relax,” Rhys offered. “With everything going on, your mind should be wide open. This will be simple and fast. I promise.” 

A promise from a High Lord—from your family, you reminded yourself. This was going to be fine. You doubled up on tonics this morning, so the pain in your head was minimal and you were safe here.

This was going to be fine. 

You hadn't even noticed the rapid pace of your breath until Azriel’s shadows came to wind around your shoulders, the quick uptick of the darkness more telling than anything else. The small wisps traveled up and down with the rhythm of your breath until it began to even out, and then they curled around your cheeks as if to caress you. When they made the occasional pass by your ears, it felt as if you were being told secrets—as if you were important enough to know something no one else did. 

Yes, this was going to be fine. 

Rhys cleared his throat. 

The first step into your mind was jarring, the sensation making you physically jump. Rhys seemed to raise a hand up at the entry—to knock on something or open it up—but he passed through a permeable wall instead. He passed through with ease. 

The High Lord made a low, surprised sound that echoed in the room. 

“What?” Azriel gruffly asked. 

Rhys paused. “Well, nothing, I just—I just expected some of her magic to have remained where it was. For some of it to be protecting her mind.” 

“Magic?” you whispered. 

Azriel’s eyes snapped to you as if on instinct—as if the sound of your voice was simply something he always followed—but his expression did not match the sentiment. He looked haunted, a shadow cast over the grim line of his mouth. 

“I have magic?” 

Your whisper was cut off by a sharp intake of air. Rhys had moved on from the outskirts of your mind, each step deeper a clicking echo in the stark chamber. He went in directions that felt practiced, like he’d been here before but everything had been rearranged, removed. 

You watched as the High Lord ran a rough hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

Mor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

Azriel watched the man within your mind, a preternatural stillness stiffening his limbs.

“It’s like you’ve been wiped.” Rhys shook his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You still know language, you know how to—to be fae. But everything else is…” 

Within your mind, you felt a darkness roll from Rhys. He was sending something out, inspecting the area. The pain began then, but you weren’t going to tell them. You weren’t going to break and ruin something else. 

The darkness invaded small crevices in your mind, sleuthing and slinking in areas you hadn’t been aware of yourself. More pressure built up behind your skull. 

You could still manage it. 

The air was knocked from your lungs, but you could still manage it. 

“Rhysand,” Azriel warned. Blue began to overpower the orange glow of the room. 

“I think I’m almost somewhere,” the High Lord replied. 

“She’s—” 

“Keep going,” you gritted out. “It just feels odd,” you lied. “I’m okay, keep going.” 

Azriel shook his head, face twisting in an expression of grief that almost had you taking back your words. He abandoned his observation of Rhys and approached your chair, kneeling down next to you, the bone of his knee harshly pressing against the floor. 

He nodded, something resolute in his eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you want.” 

From beside you, you heard Mor’s pained sigh, felt her turn to look away.

You tore your eyes from the piousness before you, but Azriel did not budge. His elbow came to rest on the flat surface of his thigh, his fingers extending out to touch the wooden leg of your chair. 

“Please, keep going.” 

Rhys nodded. The darkness in your mind expanded. It flowed like a cloud rolling out before a storm, reaching every corner of unsearched territory. There was nothing it couldn’t reach, and good, let it fill you up. Let it consume your mind because it was no use to you in this state. Azriel was kneeling before you, desperate and scared, and you couldn’t understand why, so let the darkness become you. 

If it led to understanding, to your life, you would withstand this pain. 

The first scream that left you ripped through the air like a strike, unsettling any gentleness that had resided in the small office. Rhys had found something; his darkness had collided with a wall—the only wall, only structure, in your mind—and he had gone to investigate. With the simple press of his hand against the sturdy cobalt, a blinding pain found a home in your skull. 

Azriel jolted, the fingers that had gripped your chair flying to cover your knee. 

You screamed again. And again. 

“Stop! Enough, Rhysand. Get out of her head,” Azriel ordered, but he sounded as if he were underwater. He raised his voice above your screams but he sounded so far away. 

You collapsed forward, hands coming up to cradle your head. There was a touch at your back, maybe another along your hair—you couldn’t tell. The pain was too great. 

“There’s a wall. Something foreign. The energy isn’t hers,” Rhys called. He sounded distant as well. 

The world grew light. 

“I don’t care,” Azriel gritted out. “We can try again later. She’s going to pass out and last time—” 

“Keep… going,” you panted, fighting past the pain to insert yourself into the conversation.

This was your decision, your mind. Your life that was torn away. 

“Y/n, please. You don’t understand,” Azriel begged, shifting forward and gripping your wrists in his scarred hands. “This isn’t good for you. This isn’t—please.” 

Sweat beaded at your brow. Rhys’s presence hadn’t left your mind. “I have… to know. Have to try.” 

“Rhys, maybe we shouldn’t—” Mor began in a soft, hesitant voice. 

“Go.” With a simple word from you, Rhys bypassed all else. 

Pain exploded at the first talon scratching down the slope of the foreign wall. You surpassed screams, your voice breaking at the peak of the most violent one. At some point, the hands on your head were replaced by larger ones, and you found the texture of them to be a grounding point. Something about the feeling was familiar, like your skin was used to the patterns, the raised edges and the divots along fingers. They traced soothing shapes along your cheeks, dried tears you didn’t realize were cascading down your face. 

And then Rhys stood abruptly, his chair rocking back and forth with his departure. The pain dulled, leaving you with heavy breaths and a lingering ache you weren’t sure would ever go away. 

“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 

Breathing in was difficult. The world felt off its axis. 

Pale-faced and blinking, Rhys breathed out, “We need to go to Helion.” 

You gathered the strength to look up further. 

Azriel’s expression crumbled, his beautiful face only inches from yours and filled with such dread that when you succumbed to the lightness creeping into your vision, you feared the descent. 

~~

Your loss of consciousness was brief, which was, apparently, very unexpected. 

Your once stiff chair was no longer beneath you, and where you expected to be folded up into an uncomfortable shape and cold, you were instead held against a warm, vibrating presence. 

No, not vibrating, that wasn’t right. Just speaking—you were being held by someone and they were speaking. 

“—back there. Rhys, it’s not a good idea. If you said it was the same energy from before, we can’t—I can’t—” 

“He is gone, Az. You know that. Bringing her there would only serve to help her. You know Helion would go to lengths…” 

Your comprehension faded in and out, matching the swells of pain in your head. You were reluctant to open your eyes and welcome the assault of light and sensation that would surely greet you when you did. 

There was a soft lull in the conversation, although you couldn’t decipher where it had left off. You felt a light pressure along your face and welcomed the relief and comfort that came with it. Some of the ache dissipated along the path of the touch. 

“Her screams,” you heard Azriel stress, and it felt as if his words were spoken against your skin. “They were so reminiscent of that night. All of this is.” 

“I know, brother,” Rhys replied. 

“I don’t know if I can do this. If I can survive this.”

A sniff. Something wet along your jaw. The chest you were pressed against seemed to tremble. 

“You have to. She’ll need you when she comes out on the other side of this.” 

“I know,” Azriel whispered, words weaker but somehow even closer. “I know.” 

Disregarding all of your senses that argued against it, you cracked your eyes open. The lights were still low, but even that fact didn’t stop the burning behind your eyes from amplifying. A repercussion from Rhysand’s investigation, surely. 

Whoever was left in the room gave you time to adjust, no one speaking or moving or expecting anything from you other than breath. You felt the hold on you loosen, but not withdraw. 

Part of you, a deep, intrinsic part, knew it was Azriel. His voice and his scent and the feel of his body seemed to be things you could recognize even when nothing else made sense. So, you knew it was him holding you from the moment your mind began to catch up with the environment. 

And still, seeing him so close, feeling him against you—it was a shock to your already overwhelmed system. 

You groaned, face scrunching as you tried to gather your bearings. Azriel’s legs shifted, and your body moved along with them. The motion served as a catalyst in your effort to sit up. 

“Hey, hold on,” Azriel cautioned. Hearing his voice so soft—so careful—had you blinking, trying to parse out what was real and what was still hazy.

“Did…did we figure out what was wrong?” you asked, groggy. “Did you find anything?” 

You turned your head with sharp momentum, regretting the act as soon as you did it. But you didn’t have time for pain—for fear. Rhys looked back at you with a sympathetic smile, both of you ignoring the sound of protest from Azriel at your movement. 

His hand moved to rest along the back of your neck as Rhys spoke, keeping your head in one place. Keeping it supported and still. 

You didn’t have the energy to shake it off. 

Did you want to? 

“I found something. Not as much as I’d have liked, but it’s something to go off of. We’ll… have to go to Day. There’s more information there. I’ve sent Mor to sort out the logistics.” 

A glance around the room confirmed that the blonde was no longer there. It must have been a quick decision to send her away. As quick as Azriel tugging you out of your chair and holding you on the floor. 

Rhys didn’t seem uncomfortable by the display, but of course he wouldn’t—not if his goal was to drive two enemies back into friendship. 

If you were ever even friends to begin with.

The trajectory of your thoughts made you grimace in Azriel’s arms, and even though your entire body protested it, you shifted away from him, hands coming down to the floor to support your weight. A soft grunt left you.

Why did a search through your mind leave you so weak? 

“My lo—y/n, stop,” Azriel fumbled over his words, reaching out for you. 

But with confusion and pain marring your state of mind—causing your usually perfectly practiced, patient replies to skew—you only struggled more and pushed farther away. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, too many feelings surrounding this man who looked at you as if you were never-ending but pushed you away as if you were finite. 

You couldn’t take it. 

And maybe this is how you—the real you, the one with her memories—would react, anyway. Everyone always seemed to expect a strong will and unyielding tenacity, their disappointment at your meekness glaringly obvious. 

Maybe you were supposed to fight against these secrets and this pain. 

“I’ve got it,” you grunted out, pushing closer to the desk, closer to the rift you didn’t understand between you and Azriel. 

You wanted Mor back. 

She made more sense. 

Looking up from your struggle, you caught Azriel and Rhysand in the midst of a staring match, their expressions firm and drawn. With what you now understood about Rhys and his powers, you were sure they were communicating somehow. 

When Rhys spoke next, your hypothesis was only confirmed. “Az is going to take you back to your room,” he said, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. “He’s going to help you pack.” 

When the High Lord left, the door clicking shut with finality, tension blanketed the room. The worst part of it all was your lack of context. Something big was happening, something immeasurable, and you had no upper hand—not even a foot on the ground. 

You looked down at your palms and then back up at Azriel. He had yet to move from his position kneeling before you, hands still outstretched in some fruitless reach, elbows bent and tense against his sides.

You wanted Mor back. 

She seemed to love you—to want you here.

“I can get back to my room on my own,” you offered, and even though the words were barely a whisper, they were resounding in the silent room. 

Azriel licked his lips and looked down. When his hands fell to his sides, you took that as compliance, as acceptance. On shaking arms, you attempted to lift yourself up. 

“I haven’t been doing this right.” Your unsuccessful attempt abruptly ceased. Azriel continued. “I barely got it right the first time. This time… this time I—” 

“It’s okay, Azriel. I understand, I think.” 

Hazel eyes met yours, the collection of colors confused beneath furrowed brows. 

You so badly wanted to soothe away all of the unease within them, to brush your thumb along his brow even though you were sure he wouldn’t want to do the same—not without his family present to witness it. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

You wanted to sigh, but too much air might’ve made you pass out again. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek, twisting your lips as you considered the best way to phrase the thoughts that had been plaguing you. 

“No one will tell me about you—about who we were to each other before I lost everything. I thought maybe it was because you were going to tell me, but then you wanted nothing to do with me and I understood a little better. I understood that maybe we weren’t friends before all of this. And that’s okay, I know that we lived lives that I can’t remember. 

“But then… sometimes you do things that don’t make sense to me. You say things that don’t add up with what I’ve come to terms with and I think… I think my mind and my body get confused. It’s strange,” you admitted, using what little strength you still coveted to push yourself back against Rhys’s desk. “But I think I understand now. And I’m sorry if I make it weird. I think that even if my mind understands who you are to me, there are other parts that don’t quite catch up.” 

“And who am I to you?” Azriel asked, voice raw. 

You looked up from your fingers to meet his gaze again, greedily relishing in the calm they provided you. It was always calm there. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t have the honor of meaning anything to you. Maybe we didn’t get along, or maybe we just never meshed. But I can tell you struggle with this new role—whatever it is the Inner Circle has asked you to do with me. I can tell this isn’t natural for you, spending time with me, trying to be my friend.” 

Azriel fell further back on his ankles, his wings unfurling from their tight coil to drape along the floor in a defeated posture. It looked wrong; you’d been around these men and their wings and they never dragged. 

Azriel’s mouth parted slightly, his jaw off-centered. His gaze left you in favor of staring at the floor, and you surmised that you caught him. You figured him out. This pawn he had become—you had freed him from the game. 

But then sighed and he said, “No,” and the word was whispered with so much sadness that none of this felt like a game anymore. Not that it was fun; this had never been fun.

“No,” he repeated. “Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.” He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Gods, I’ve done this so wrong.” 

“Azriel, it’s—” 

“Even just hearing you say my name. After so many days without it, I could sit and just listen to you talk and I would be content.” 

Your fingers felt numb. 

Azriel stopped staring at the ceiling. 

“We have always meshed,” he said. “I was being selfish—avoiding you when I shouldn’t have. The truth, y/n, is that we are close. Very close. Rhysand, Mor, Cassian—they don’t have to ask me to forge some… bond with you because that has already been 300 years in the making.” 

“But at lunch and every time I—” 

“It’s hard and I have been a coward,” Azirel interrupted, shifting forward until his knees brushed against yours on the ground. “This has been inexplicably harder for you and I have been a coward and there is no part of me that wants to be away from you.” 

It somehow felt as if your life was turning upside down again because you had made conclusions and assumptions and none of them were right. You had come to terms with the fact that you felt safest with a man who wanted nothing to do with you and had mourned the loss already. It had been strange to mourn something you had only just gained, but it had felt even stranger to lose Azriel. 

It hadn’t felt right.

“So we’re friends?” you tentatively asked, feeling the wooden corner of the desk dig into your spine. 

Azriel swallowed. “Yes.” 

“And you… like being my friend?” 

“Very much.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Azriel laughed, the sound so startlingly joyous you felt it swelling in your own chest. It filled you up, consumed you, and you wished for a long moment that you hadn’t been so willing to allow Rhys’s darkness into the crevices of your mind. This feeling belonged there. Only this. 

“I am positive,” he assured, a smile lingering on his face. “Being your friend has been my crowning achievement for the last three centuries.” 

“That doesn’t seem like much of an achievement,” you replied, the snark in your tone surprising you. 

It seemed to surprise Azriel as well, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Fortunately, you are not the authority on my achievements, especially since you don’t remember them and can’t recall how amazing it is to be your friend.” 

He kept tripping over that word—friend. 

You decided to ignore it, too pleased by the way you made Azriel laugh and smile and not look at you the way he had been for the past several days. 

And something was glowing in your chest, something that seemed to replace the near-constant ache you had grown so accustomed to. 

Later, you would ask more questions. Later, you would ask Azriel about Day Court and the reason why he silently panicked every time you ran your hand along your temple to ease the pressure there. 

But for now, you smiled at the shadowsinger, and he smiled back.

Part 5 ☁

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinkmas (3)- Ugly Sweater

Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: Whilst coming out of the bathroom, Natasha immediately notices your new Christmas Sweater and can't hold back on her playful teasing and mentions how ugly it is. In fact, she thinks it's so ugly, you should just take it off.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Teasing, Ugly Sweaters, Thigh Riding, Smut, Dom Natasha/Sub Reader, Praise, Orgasm Denial/Delay, Dirty Talk, Begging, Oral Sex, Fingering, Aftercare, Cuddles

Kinkmas Masterlist

---

Opening the bathroom door, a snicker left her lips as Natasha caught sight of the Christmas jumper you were wearing, her hand moving to cover her mouth as you shot your girlfriend a pointed look while rummaging for your phone charger, watching her form on the bed as her lips tugged up into an amused smile.

"Detka," she says, dragging her words out as you approached her on the bed after successfully finding your charger, her arms naturally opening as you melt against her body, her lips pressing against your temple, arms then snaking around you. "I didn't know we were doing ugly sweaters this year," she mumbles against your hair in a teasing tone, your head tilting to gaze into her humoured green, that mischievous smirk playing on her lips as you adjusted yourself on the bed, moving to straddle her lap.

"It's not ugly," you say in mild offence, looking back down at the jumper you had bought for Christmas this year, amazed at how soft and comfortable it was compared to ones you've had in the past. "It's unique," your tone full of confidence as your girlfriend fails to hide the small laugh that escapes her, her eyes taking the ridiculous piece of clothing properly.

The jumper had questionable looking reindeers adorning it, the white stripes indicating different sections as a pattern of Santa hats were under it, followed by a set of christmas trees and then a row of presents, her brow raising in questioning as you followed her line of sight to the section of snowmen, the blue coloured section not matching with the rest of the red and green theme, looking very odd.

"I'm not sure unique is the word I'd use to describe it, Detka," she murmurs, hands cupping your cheek and guiding your face down for an innocent kiss, the action sparking an idea in the redhead's mind, her smile slowly morphing into that iconic mischievous smirk again.

"Is it really that bad?" you ask, a hint of genuine disappointment in your voice as you part of you actually quite liked the sweater, Natasha's fingers resting under your chin and lifting your head up to meet her gaze, your brows furrowing slightly at the look in her eyes, knowing she was planning something.

"Oh Detka," she coos, her free hand gliding down your waist to the back of your thighs before back up, sliding under the fabric to feel your bare skin, her cold hands a contrast to your warm skin making your body tense momentarily. "It is, in fact, I think it's that bad you should just... take it off," her hand emphasises her words by pulling up on your sweater, her eyes searching yours and waiting for permission to do so, eyes sparkling with desire and mischief as you can't help but chuckle at her words, the doubts about the jumper swiftly leaving your mind due to her lips being mere inches away from yours.

"Yeah?" you whisper back, lips tugging up into an amused smile as her smile only widens when you move your hands to replace hers at your jumper, playing with the hem of it and slowly, teasingly pulling it off. "I think I should too," you murmur just before removing the jumper, Natasha's hands eagerly travelling across the exposed skin you just revealed, fingers dancing across your lower abdomen before reaching your lower back and up, swiftly unclasping your bra and pulling it off while your lips meet hers passionately, both of you smiling into it to start with.

A soft moan escapes you when the kiss becomes more intense, Natasha's tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss, arousal pooling between your thighs while your mind fogs with lust, the feeling of her hands burning into your skin as you think you're going to go mad with desire. Her nails faintly scratch your skin, earning a groan in response as you arch your back slightly, pushing your body further into hers prompting her to wrap her arms around you, guiding you into another position.

She positions you on one of her thighs, smirking into the kiss when she hears the affected sigh leave you as she pulls you along it, making you ride her thigh until you start to do it on your own.

"That's it Detka," she praises, making you moan once again, the noise being swallowed by her relentless mouth, lips constantly claiming yours in a hungry and desperate kiss, hands returning to roam your body and tease you. You're finding it hard to think with her actions, fingers grazing the underside of your breasts, thumbs teasingly ghosting over your sensitive nipples while her mouth is hot, soft and dominant at the same time, the two of you only parting for breath, panting heavily against each others mouths as you still can't resist trying to kiss her again, craving her addictive lips.

"Nat," you groan when she finally cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, just the way you love it, her fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," you sigh out, lolling your head back as she starts to kiss down your jaw and along your neck, nibbling softly and smirking against yours skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against her harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only she could help you with, "Please."

"You're so impatient Detka," she teases, sucking on part of your skin to leave a mark, her hands moving away from your chest to your ass, guiding you against her thigh once again, a groan leaving you at her slower pace. "You'll get what you want soon," she murmurs, tilting her head back up to meet your lips, claiming them briefly and messily before lowering her head to kiss along your collar bones, sucking another mark as she knew you loved it.

You groaned in a little frustration at her words, wanting to feel the pleasure of your release now but being denied by her, Natasha merely chuckling against your skin at your impatience.

"Nat," you whined, her kisses descending even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.

"Soon," she promises, yours fingers threading through her hair when she swirls her tongue around one of your nipples, mouth then sucking on your chest earning a string of moans from you, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh as she tenses it for you, the surface harder for you to grind along.

"Fuck," you sigh out when she switches to the other breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, her hands moving your hips harder and faster against her, your orgasm building swiftly at her actions.

"Don't even think about coming yet Detka," she rasps out, pulling away from your chest, a string of saliva connecting the two before her thumb brushes it away while her eyes are trained on yours, a small, affected sigh leaving your lips at the sight.

"Please, Nat, I'm so close," you plead, knowing how turned on she gets by your begging, your fingers gently tugging on her hair that you've ruffled slightly to make her return to your face, wanting to feel her lips pressed against yours.

"Not yet Detka," she murmurs back before kissing you firmly, hands moving to your lower back to keep you secure before flipping the two of you over, a groan of annoyance leaving you as she denies you, her lips silencing you. "I want to feel you coming all over my tongue," she purrs at the shell of your ear, biting softly on your earlobe as you whimper at her words, hands reaching out to her waist, sliding under her simple black jumper, desperate to feel her bare skin.

"Shit, Nat I want you, I need you. Please," you moan out into her mouth as she kisses you with a newfound hunger, her fingers replacing yours at her jumper, pulling the item off swiftly before unclasping her own bra and tossing it somewhere in the room, not bothered where at the moment.

"You'll only ever need me, isn't that right Detka?" she murmurs with a smug smirk against your skin as your nails scratch down her back softly, the redhead aware of the effect she had on you as her fingers slide your joggers down, lips descending down your body once again.

"Yes," your tone a whisper as your back arches against her, the feeling of her lips kissing down your body making your body delirious with arousal and desire, the redhead groaning at your voice, loving the way you say you're hers. "You're all I need- Fuck, please do that again," your words are interrupted when she drags one of her fingers against your soaking core through your panties, the fabric drenched with your arousal, body begging for her touch.

"So desperate," she mumbles, tone laced with dominance as she looks up from her place between your legs, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you. "So wet," she adds, doing as you asked and sliding her finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against the mattress. "If you want it that bad Detka, beg for it."

"Please," you whimper, pleading her with your eyes, her fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties and caressing the skin there in an affectionate manner, waiting for you to continue, "Nat, I've been good, please touch me, please make me come." Her breath fans over your sensitive core as her teeth gently bite down on the fabric of your panties, dragging the item down your legs and admiring your aroused and desperate form watching her, mouth parting in a small, affected sigh. "Please Nat, I need your fingers, your mouth, Fuck, anything at this point," your words are cut off by a pathetic whimper, the redhead finally lowering her mouth to your dripping core, her eyes trained on you as she wants to watch you come undone.

"Fuck Detka," she groans, eyes darkening with desire as her tongue swipes through your folds, tasting your arousal and making your hips buck up against her mouth, her hands holding your body down. "You taste so good," her accent delicately wraps around her words in a way that makes your head spin, the added raspiness going straight to your lower abdomen, her mouth exploring your sensitive sex as sinful sounds spill from your lips.

"Shit, I love it when you do that," you moan out, her lips wrapping around your clit and sucking gently, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair softly, fingers surrounded by the red silky locks. "Nat," your voice a low sigh, the noise soft and sensual as her face nuzzled closer to where you needed her, her lower face coated in your arousal as you were just so addicting, tongue swirling over your clit before sliding lower, teasing your entrance.

"Such a pretty mess for me," she murmurs against you, her mouth returning to your clit and sucking a little harsher than before, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure flooded through you, one of her hands sliding around your thigh to pull you closer. "All mine to ruin," she rasps out, a guttural noise leaving you at her words and the feeling of one of her fingers effortlessly sliding into you, walls desperately clenching around her digit.

"Nat," you pant out, head lolling back against the soft mattress, fingers tightening their grip on her hair, hips trying their best to roll against her mouth in search of friction.

Your desperate tone and actions encourage her to push you over the edge, her digit curling inside you at your sweet spot, pleasure building in your core as you clench around her, the redhead's mouth then kissing your clit again to drive you mad, tongue swiping over to make your hips cant up.

"Fuck, don't stop," you groan out, fingers holding her head still as she slides in another finger, moaning into your core, the vibrations pleasing you as your mind clouds with arousal, vision almost blurring with euphoria. "Please can I come?" you ask, voice laced with submission as your eyes gaze down at the sinful sight of her between your thighs, her darkened green entranced by your state.

"Come for me," she husks out, taking your clit back into her mouth and sucking while her fingers continue to curl inside you, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching further off the bed as your legs trembled, hips rocking against her face at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on the bed at the exhaustion of coming so hard.

Natasha listened to every soft pant that left you, every hitch of breath as she didn't stop her actions, moving her tongue to replace her fingers inside you, lapping up your come and arousal that she could taste.

She only stopped when your hand softly tugged on her hair, silently asking her to stop, which she did immediately, gradually sliding her body away from between your legs. She straddled your waist, her eyes trained on yours as they fluttered open, meeting the softening green and watching in awe as she slid her fingers into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she groans at the taste of you on her fingers, your lips parting for a small, affected gasp.

"Come here," you mumbled tiredly, hands reaching out for the curve of her hips as you pull her body down against yours, claiming her lips softly as she lets you kiss her how you want. Her body relaxes against yours, her fingers brushing back a few strands of your hair while your hands cup her cheek, keeping her close as you inevitably smile against her mouth, the redhead eagerly reciprocating the action.

Her lips peck yours once more before pressing a loving kiss to your temple, her body rolling onto her side as she pulls you closer to her, wanting to take care of you.

"We need to clean up Detka," she whispers, knowing how tired you were but more focused on staying hygienic and safe. You grumble in response, face pressed against her chest, arms defiantly wrapped around her middle as you just wanted to savour the calm moment, her fingers scratching your scalp soothingly. "Come on, it will be quick," she murmurs, managing to get you out of the bed and into the bathroom to clean up, her hands gentle as she helped take care of you, smiling softly at the way you craved to feel any part of her body.

Eventually, after many loving caresses, the two of you leave the bathroom clean and completely naked, a request on your behalf, before sliding under the covers, bodies naturally drifting towards each other.

Your face nestled at the crook of her neck, the warm and soft skin lulling you into a peaceful state as you melted in her embrace, exhaustion slowly creeping up on you.

"Nat," you mumble, tiredness evident in your voice as you move your hand to glide up and down her toned back, smiling a little at her neck when you feel her relax even more into the impossibly soft mattress.

She hums softly in response, a hint of curiosity audible in the noise as she lets her lips press delicately against your hair, waiting for you to continue.

"Was the jumper actually that ugly?" your voice a mere whisper, eyes closed as you savour the comfort and security of her neck, her body shaking a little under you as she laughs angelically at your words.

"Oh Detka," she coos, smiling against your locks as she can't help the warmth bubbling in her chest. "It was, I'm sorry," she honestly tells you, a grumble leaving you as you snuggle further into your body.

"I'll get a new one," you mumble, an idea popping into your tired mind, "I'll get a Black Widow themed one and there's nothing you can do to stop me." At your words, Natasha can't help but chuckle lovingly again, her head shaking at your antics.

"Ok Detka, you do that," she murmurs tenderly, letting you think you've gotten your way as she could feel your little smile against her neck, the redhead not having the heart to deny you.

"Goodnight Moya Lyubov," she whispers after a moment, the sounds of your gentle snores taking over the room as Natasha slowly drifts off to sleep, content with having you wrapped up in her arms.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Do the twins ever get attached to stanfraud? Does bill get attached to them too? what is their relationship like? and what is their immediate reaction to finding out everything was a lie -- first impressions? GAAHH I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS i'm ur biggest fan bro

Thank you so much!! It really means a lot that people are enjoying my madness this much!

It’s funny because earlier I was actually doodling him and the twins!

He absolutely gets attached and they get attached in return. While their initial introduction to him is very rocky, they come to enjoy his quirks and unusual interests, especially once Dipper puts together he was the author, and he regularly supervises them on adventures, mainly because Stan asked him too, but also because it’s strangely fun. He will repeatedly claim he hasn’t gone soft to Stan, but then Stan will find him fast asleep with the twins curled up against him, or he’ll catch him helping the twins in their respective Dipper and Mabel’s guide videos. He also likes Mabel Juice! Mabel won’t take his suggestion of adding eyeballs though. Alas.

His feelings towards them are made complicated by his own denial. He doesn’t like the idea that he’s changed much at all, and these new doubts he’s experiencing about his original plans are not thoughts he’s willing to entertain for long. He gets snappy when Stan tries to reassure him it’s okay that he cares, because he doesn’t care, he’s just… playing a role. That’s all. It’s all one big lie. He can do lies. But that doesn’t really explain the genuine panic he experiences when Dipper and Mabel are in danger, and how quickly he jumps in to protect them nor does it explain the fuzzy feeling in his chest when Mabel knits him a sweater.

He’s not the same as he was thirty years ago. That’s a fact. And thirty years was once just a blip for him, but this has felt like he’s lived a whole new life.

And on the flip side, Dipper and Mabel care a lot too. He’s off-putting and he’s strange and he says some things that imply he may have committed murder and gotten away with it, but they like being around him. It isn’t always perfect, same as it is with Stan, but the rougher patches don’t tend to last, and they reconcile by the end of the day (although, Bill is usually incapable of saying sorry verbally and shows his apology through actions instead).

Dipper for one hasn’t really had anyone he can just ramble about nerd stuff with. Bill can actually keep up with Dipper, and they both find themselves enjoying the debate they have about inter dimensional travel, or what sort of haunting would be the most annoying to deal with. Dipper does sometimes catch his uncle looking at him strangely though, almost as though he’s seeing right through Dipper and looking at someone else, but he blinks and the odd look is gone, so he must have imagined it.

Bill does sometimes push Dipper’s buttons, of course, and never gives him direct answers, usually making him look for the answer himself, or read between the lines, which Dipper comes to appreciate as it, so he claims, trains his mind for mysteries. They have a very fun back and forth, honestly. Dipper thinks Stanfraud is the coolest despite all the annoyances, and he really does try his best to impress him.

Mabel meanwhile is just her usual bundle of energy, and charms her great uncle by involving him in her unhinged hijinks, and showing him the art of glitter bombing. She meets him where he’s at! Even though he can sometimes be a little extreme, even for her, she pushes herself out of her comfort zone, mainly because of what Stan told her, about how Ford lost his mind while alone. Well, she can’t have that! She makes a real effort trying to understand him, and why he thinks the way he does.

He also weirdly gives her some good advice whenever Pacifica tries to bring her down, and Mabel is both comforted and inspired by how weird he is, even in his old age. He never lets anyone shame him out of it, and he encourages Mabel to just “Be weird! Your fleshbag life is short! Why waste it caring what lesser skin puppets think?”

Bill unknowingly allows both Dipper and Mabel to feel more comfortable in themselves because of how unapologetically ‘him’ he is.

Sorry if this is messy, by the way, I’m just writing my thoughts as I go along.

Anywho, I think all of this makes finding out everything was a lie very hard hitting for them. Mabel tries to rationalise it, that sure, maybe he wasn’t really their Grunkle, but he still loved them like he was, and they loved him like a Grunkle, meanwhile Dipper reacts very negatively, because he really thought he had found someone like him, someone he confided a lot in, and now he thinks he made the wrong choice, that he was an idiot.

And Stan lied too. He admits the biggest mistake he made was not telling them, but it’s too late for that now.

The one bright side, if you can call it that, is Stan and Bill do tell them before they get Ford back. They think they’ve finally found the way to do it, and Stan wants the kids to know before they try it, give them time to process.

Okay I’ll end there for now! Thank you so much again!

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

Day 1 — Soulmates ₊˚✧ ﾟ

Submission for @goldengroovy's @olnfweek2024

MC: Micha

Long ass ramble under the cut 😂

Okayokayokay SO-

I love soulmate au's. I cannot tell you how many fics I've read or how many prompts I've played with or media I've consumed or how many bullshit ideas I've come up with in my own head for them, I CANNOT.

It's just - hhhhhhhhhhhh- Soulmate au's and Time Travel au's are just the shit that gets me out of bed some days 😩💖my world weary soul drinks that shit like medicine, okay?

That all being said, it's probably a little ambiguous which au I picked to some, so let me explain: There are two au's I'm mashing up here really, both are from fics I've read back in the day. One being a Clack fic and the other a Thilbo one 🤷‍♂️kind of calling myself out here but w/e, they were good fics.

The Thilbo one is easier to explain - the concept is "Heartsong" which is, literally what it says on the tin. You find out who your soulmate is the first time you hear them sing (and no, that does not mean everyone is just a naturally good singer - they can be ass at music but, the point is, when you hear them their song is the perfect song for you and your heart knows that). There's a lot of little nuances to this one - things like you hearing your heartsong when you dream so you always know the moment you find them. Also people who have quiet dreams because their heartsong died, sometimes before ever even meeting them. etc etc. The heartsong also seems to expand, in some respect, to instruments (as Thorin plays his harp one night and Bilbo starts to hum without thinking about it because it sounds wonderful to him and that's how Thorin finds out).

Overall, it's a very soft and sweet concept to me and as someone who has a deep love of music, it's also one of my very favourites.

The Clack one is a little less easy to explain? I think. Maybe because it's nuances are so round about but I'll do my best. The concept for this one is "I Only See Colour When I'm With You" - anyone who knows how Clack fics usually go knows where this is probably headed 😂 and I am sorry to have hurt you but, overall, the idea is: You live in a noir-esqu world where everything is black and white. This only changes when you find your soulmate, of course, who brings the world into full saturation and lets you see colour for - possibly - the first time in your life (I say possibly because I genuinely can't remember if you start out colourblind or if it's an age cap thing).

Unfortunately, for as much as I adore this concept, it's been a long damn time since I read the fic and I don't even know if it still exists somewhere. So I can't actually recall if it was a 'you have to touch them' or 'you have to hear them' thing but the fic takes place with Zack on the cliff right before Midgar where he holds Cloud and looks at the sky - so I'm willing to bet it's a touch thing.

I also really loved this fic because it was the first one I'd read that brought in the concept of multiple soulmates to me - As Cloud later sits with Aerith and sees the colour he couldn't see with Zack, meanwhile Aerith only sees black and white, because she was only able to see colour with Zack (who was never able to see colour with her, because he needed Cloud for that).

Essentially, they all needed each other to see the world in colour. As a polyam person who didn't quite realise I was poly back then, it was a very comforting (and now dearly cherished) fic.

Anyways! Now that you have the background on the two concepts, you can kind of get what I'm going for with this piece.

Tamarack, Micha and Qiu are all soulmates in a fuzzy, desaturated world (I'm sorry, I'm not cruel enough to but them in complete greyscale LOL) and the way you find your soulmate is by hearing them sing and, when they do, your world is suddenly vivid and bright and beautiful. Suddenly, you can see things as they were meant to be seen and it's a permanent change (unlike the Clack fic) but things are always clearest and brightest when your soulmate speaks or sings 💖

I get a real kick out of the idea that Micha's known for fucking months that Tamarack is his soulmate (if not years) because he's always listening to her play but never says jack shit about it because he's emotionally constipated that way 😂Though genuinely, it's probably because he just doesn't think he's her soulmate and he's a bit against finding out he's right honestly.

Joke is on him, he's Qiu's and Tamaracks soulmate! And he couldn't have picked a better moment to grow a pair an take the risk 🥰

[a-spes]

| THE PLACE WE'VE BEEN DREAMING OF - Imagine (1,109 words).

| Summary - when Natasha enventually gives in, and accept her wife's demand to adopt a pet.

| Tags & warning - Men & Minors DNI, soft dark!wandanat x R, not really pet play but R is reffered to as one (stray/mutt/it), a man being mean, mentions of death, hints of (past) abuse, pure fluff/comfort.

| Author's note - I wrote that quickly because it has been on my mind for so long, and I definitely needed to share it with the world, but hope you'll enjoy it anyway! I'll definitely write a longer version of it when I've time, but for the moment, here goes the first introduction to The place we've been dreaming of alternative universe (and it's only the beginning because i've so many thoughts to share about it) <3

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

it was wands' idea. she had begging nat for years, talking about how good it would be to have a pet, just to bring a bit of life in the household.

and that's exactly what natasha feared. because she likes how quiet, and tidy, her house is. she likes the routine she built with her wife over the years, and she is reluctant to bring another piece in her house.

but how could she deny her wife when she begs her with those puppy eyes?

so she eventually gave in, and they went into a place that's only known by the richest persons. it's kind of a shelter, but instead of animals, human being are sold.

they walked in, wands looking in the cages while nat roll her eyes everytime she tries to have her opinion. "did you find what you want?" the seller asked, and nat looks at her wife that seems to hesitate. "what's over here?" she asked back, pointing to a noisy alley that constrats with the quiet one they've just travelled.

the sellers just dismissed her question, "they're unfit" he just replied, "they're going to be send off tomorrow". "where?" wands asked. "to be killed", he replied, but when he tried to get the conversation back on his best goods, wanda ignored him: she wanted to see these ones. nat isn't surprised, her wife always having a thing for saving broken being, but she still roll her eyes, thinking about the additionnal trouble it'll bring.

so, before the man could say anything, they walk in the alley. the ambience is different. yells, cries, and dark glances greet the women, while in the first alley, everyone's was perfect. nat cringes while her wife walk around, until she crouches in front of a cage that, at the first sight, appears to be empty.

except that, that you are here. in the back of the cage, hiding where the light can barely find you, trying to forget where you are. the noise is frightening you, but your hands covering your ears isn't enough to reduce it. the yells from the other still bugging you.

you've no idea for how long you've been here, but it felt like an eternity. you've been sent back here by your previous owner, it was your last chance, you've been told, and you don't know what's going to happen. when the door clicked, you thought your hour had come, and it only made you curl up further.

but the hand that came for you wasn't harsh. it hasn't tried to grab you. when you eventually open your eyes, your met by the sight of a woman, that's trying to get you to come to her. her voice is sweet. she doesn't yell as you thought she would when you didn't move at first.

the men had to bang against the walls to get you out, which earn him a glance from both of the women. he ignored them. "this stray has one of the worse behavior. she bites, is noisy, messy, agressive, ..." but wanda isn't listening anymore. she is just looking at you, sitting in front of her, unable to ignore the look on your eyes. the fear, and the exhaustion.

you didn't bite. you didn't made a noise. you didn't try to run away.

you only flinched when she reach out to stroke your cheek, but a second was enough for you to lean into her contact. it was so sweet. so gentle. and, for the first time, it felt genuine, and even the slap or the harsh grip you were waiting for never came. she was looking at you with pity, and something you couldn't name yet.

"... she couldn't behave even to save her life, we've tried everything. she's trouble", he adds, still talking even if none of the women is caring about his opinion, "believe me, she'll be better dead", and nat muttered something how he should be the one to die, while wanda didn't listen at all to his speech, all her attention being on you right now.

"you're sure that's the one you want, wands?" she asked, but she already knew her wife would nod, and she is definitely not going to fight her, especially when she sees how attached she already seems to be.

she looked at her while she take a biscuit out of her pocket, just to give a bit to you, but ends up giving you everything when she notices how you inhaled it. her brows furrowing together, but she doesn't say a word. she knows it would be useless to start a scene right now, this man perfectly knowing how bad he is treating you, and everyone else here. or maybe he doesn't, and doesn't realizes, thinking you deserve it, and then it would be pointless to argue with him. in that instant, she wishes she could take them all home, and if she can't, she can at least save one life.

"we didn't even bring her home yet that you're already spoiling her" nat complained, rolling her eyes. a whispered, "she deserves it", is muttered under her breath while the man seems annoyed, "if you're too lenient, you're going to regret it. you need to be firm with these things, you know." "and how would you know?" nat would ask, "apparently it didn't work well, from what you said earlier" and she smirks when she notices he starts to loose his temper, his voice being harsh when he replies, "then do not even think about taking her back when you'll realize how bad she is," just to nat to assure him that he "doesn't need to worry about that".

she isn't found of her wife's choice. she would have prefer it if she choose one of the perfect pet from the first alley. one of the one that wouldn't disturb her peace. but obviously her wife had to go for a stray, a mott, and a broken one by the way. but if there are two things she enjoys it's seeing her wife smiling, and pissing off men that thinks they know everything. if adopting that one allows to do it both at the same time, then she's all for it. a part of her wanting to prove the man that he is just wrong, and is the problem in that story.

[yeoldenews]

I don't know how much you think about it, but you wrote a post back in Mar 2020:

"A sincere request from someone who has spent her entire adult life wishing people had kept better records…In the coming weeks and months… RECORD WHAT IS HAPPENING."

That post got me to start properly journaling properly, after trying and failing when I was younger. A majority of it is 'just' day-to-day progress updates on my fiction writing, but there's a bit of stuff about my life, and some briefer stuff about the world beyond. Not a lot, but some. Four (and change) years, and my journal is just short of 186K words.

I remembered your post, seeing today's SCOTUS decisions. I remembered your post, and I remembered a line you'd written: "Are you scared to death? Write it down."

I just...I don't know. I just wanted you to know your post made an impact, and I don't know what the fuck is coming over the next week and month and year and decade, but...I'm writing shit down. I'm writing shit down, and it's all because of your post.

You have no idea how much this means to me, and how badly I needed to hear it this week - so thank you. Truly. I am genuinely moved, and so proud of you for your 186k words.

History is made up of the stories people decided to save - and the first step to making sure a story gets saved is writing it down.

I really, really hate writing. Like more than just about anything. I'm a chronic perfectionist, and it can take me a whole afternoon to finish a single paragraph I'm satisfied with. (I spent three days writing this response, and you don't even want to know how long I spend on some of the things I post.) So keeping a journal is not a task I'd ever felt the need to afflict myself with before the pandemic. When I made the post you referenced, my journaling habit was all of ten days old but, against all the odds, here I am over four years later having never (to my recollection) missed a single day.

My daily records of what my cats are doing, and your day-to-day writing progress may not be extensively poured over by future scholars, but for only a few minutes of effort a day we now have recorded hundreds of stories.

And who knows what the people of the future might find fascinating. I'm sure the teenage girl in Philadelphia who smudged the letter she was writing in 1897 because a bee scared her would be absolutely baffled that thousands of people were still laughing about the incident 125 years later.

So much of history, and life in general, doesn't become clear until long after the fact. Historical records are full of people overreacting about events that ended up having very little significance in hindsight, and under-reacting about events they no had no idea were about to change the world. But being able to go back and see what people wrote in the moment, preserving their honest thoughts and hopes and fears, is about as close as you can get to time travel.

Maybe what we fear will come true and we're recording history, maybe we'll look back on what we wrote today and go "phew! that was a close one!", or maybe nothing will come of it at all - I pray it will be the last one, but, whatever the outcome, it's worth writing down.

(Also voting. Please, please vote.)

[mythicmanuscripts]

This blog is now officially my favourite and I'm totally addicted to all your content on Aemond and Aegon.

There was a comment on how Aemond probably immediatly tries to fulfill all his wives wishes even if it wasn't serious (that one was mainly about killing people but anyways) and I was wondering if we could get some thoughts on a situation where he can't to that. Maybe they're travelling and she mentions how much she would love a hot bath or her own bed (without meaning anything by it) and he just can't do anything about it

I should have known that one of you lads would find a way to make that crack post serious and a little angsty. We love torturing men on this blog.

There is implied sub!aemond in this answer but no explicit thoughts so I won't be letting you all hide behind a cut, you know what you're getting into here!!

So for anyone who missed the ask this is referencing: I made a joke a while ago about how Aemond would reach a point where he's just no thoughts head empty do whatever pretty wife says. Aemond is a service sub through and through and he absolutely loves being able to do things for you. More than just like it, he takes extreme pride in it?

Not just because he's your submissive, but because he's also your husband. He needs to know he's being a good husband, that he's worthy of a wife like you and he gets genuinely distressed if he thinks he's disappointed you or angered you in any way.

When this specific thing happens, I like the idea of it maybe being when you're both travelling somewhere on Vhagar? Like maybe all the members of the royal family are expected to show their support for something all the way up at Winterfell. Most of them are all going by horse and carriage, but Aemond of course would take Vhagar and he asks if you'd like to join him. Aemond LOVES when it's just you, him and Vhagar and he absolutely adores flying and travelling with you. Plus, Vhagar loves you just as much because from the moment she met you she knew that you were so good for Aemond.

Anyway, the point is that you were able to instead go by comfortable horse and carriage, stopping at inns every day and being welcomed by all the common folk in the area. Instead, you chose to leave a week after everyone else with Aemond and to fly on Vhagar instead, which is only a three day journey because of how fast she is and how long she can fly for.

But those three days flying means that for two nights you're pretty much just camped out wherever Vhagar lands for the day. Right from the start Aemond offered to check the maps and find inns for both nights but you told him not to bother.

You know that Aemond will be uncomfortable staying in inns, especially because he's so recognisable and so he knows all the people in the area will want to speak with him. Forcing him to show up at Winterfell and show his public support for something he couldn't give less of a shit about is bad enough, he doesn't need to also be a roadside attraction for two nights.

More than just that, you know Aemond could really really do with three days of just you, him and Vhagar.

The first day of flying you don't even speak much. You're seated behind Aemond, your hands wrapped around his waist and it's just perfect.

When Vhagar lands for the night, you set up camp while Aemond checks around to ensure it's a safe place to spend the night.

When he comes back, you have everything set up and you make an offhanded comment that you miss your nice warm bed. You don't even think much of it and continue putting the twigs together for the fire. It's only once you have the fire going fully that you realise Aemond still hasn't come to sit with you and has instead stayed standing where he was when you made the comment.

You ask him what's wrong, and to your shock he's silent for a moment before he asks, "Do you not want to stay with me?"

You have no idea where that came from, and when you ask he says that you mentioned missing your bed. You can't help it, you have to laugh at your sweet husband. You motion for him to come sit with you and when he does, you link arms with him and lean against his shoulder.

"Of course I want to," you tell him, "it was just an offhanded comment, I love being here with you."

You can feel him relax a little, no longer sitting as straight and tense, but he's still not satisfied. He speaks up again, "I don't know what to do," he says, "I can't... I can't do anything about that."

You frown and lean more against him, pressing a kiss under his jaw and telling him that he doesn't need to do a thing. You promise him that you love being with him, and that you never would have agreed to come if you genuinely didnt want to sleep out here with him.

Even with that reassurance, he's still a little unsettled throughout the night, and you can see this by the way he tries even harder than usual to please you. He double and triple checks that you don't want anything, he folds your clothes himself, he offers you extra blankets, just does everything he can because he feels like he's failing you by not being able to make you comfortable.

You can see he's spiralling, and I actually think the best thing to do might be to give him a command? No amount of reassurance will help his brain relax, he needs to feel like he has done something good for you.

Maybe you just have him brush your hair for you? There's not much you can ask him to do in the middle of nowhere, so you grab your brush and ask him to take your braids out your hair and brush it through. He's so so gentle with it, really taking his time to ensure he doesn't pull you.

When he finishes you turn to face him and give him a kiss, thanking him for helping you and telling him how much you're loving being with him.

After you arrive at Winterfell, Aemond tells you that he never wants to travel another way with you again.

[sunsetkerr]

JESSIE'S BABY | j. fleming

summary: a brief introduction to 'baby' and her relationship with jessie

pairing: fem!reader x jessie fleming

notes: first piece for baby!!!!!!!! she's so much fun and I can't wait to write more for her and jessie, because she is just a joy. big sorority girl on campus, our queen, our leader, our baby.

jessie never thought that she would get entangled with a sorority girl

but... spoiler!!! then you came along

jessie majored in materials engineering and environmental science

right she considered herself a total nerd in that retrospect

but she just finds it all so interesting!!!

so one day she meets a girl in one of her classes who is a sister of one of the UCLA sororities

her name is nina

they hit it off, it's great

jessie has finally made a close friend at college

so after a few months of them being friends, jessie is finally invited to the sorority house for a party

and she is NOT having it

she doesn't like to party

she doesn't like to hold eye contact for more than five seconds

and she hates talking to strangers

but after lots of begging

jessie admits defeat and comes along

she spent hours getting ready and deciding on what she should wear in front of a bunch of sorority girls

something pink? or is that too cliche

she ended up going with the first outfit she tried on

a UCLA athletics t-shirt and some jeans 

shes so insecure and not loving life

jessie has to hype herself up to even leave her dorm room and travel 

and then when she gets there and sees people everywhere she calls Nina low-key freaking out

like please come get me im too scared to come inside alone vibes

nina comes out with a gaggle of other girls following her

jessie is still on edge but feeling more calm as she meets all of these girls she was with

they seemed nice enough and they instantly invited her inside to play beer pong with them

they head inside and jessie realises that it was 10x more crazy inside than it was on the front lawn

she is shoving her way through the crowd as politely as she can without losing the group of girls in front of her

but jessie eventually is cut off by a guy chasing his friend with a beer and loses the group

shes left alone in this big sorority house with no idea where she is

jessie gets out her phone to try and call Nina again, but before she can a voice interrupts

"I love your jeans!"

she looks up and came face to face with the closest thing she thinks she will ever see to a god

you were standing there, a pink dress on to match the decor and your hair and makeup done perfectly

jessie is at a stand still

she doesn't know what to do or what to say

completely taken back by you

"I was looking at buying a similar pair last week, where did you get yours from?"

you finally look up at meet her eyes, and jessie didn't think she could fall more in love with someone

but she did

she finally managed to stutter out 'th-they're from a store in Canada.. encircled, I think"

and then you respond with some long-winded sentence about how you've never been to canda but would have always loved to

and about your jeans

and about her jeans and how much you like them

and about the party and if she's enjoying it

jessie's glad that you take the reins on the conversation because she was still too busy trying to recollect herself after making eye contact with you

she doesn't know how it happens

and maybe it's because you're so outgoing you don't even notice how awkward she's being

but you spend the entire night together

jessie ends up telling you that she knows nina

you tell her that nina just happens to be your roommate

you talk about her degree, she asks about yours

she finally works up the courage to say that she likes your dress

the look on your face was so genuine people could have thought that you have never been complemented before

you really were so beautiful, the most radiant person she had ever seen

jessie watched in awe the entire night as you floated around the house, dragging her along in tow

you never failed to introduce her to anyone

"this is my new friend, jessie" "jessie's from Canada" "jessie is on the soccer team, she's really good too" 

the way you complemented her even though you had never even seen her on the pitch made her heart flutter

you ended up inviting jessie to crash in your dorm at the end of the night

but she got too shy, saying she was happy to walk back to her dorm

so you walked back with her

you were the most fearless person that she had ever met

so ready to talk to anyone about anything

too friendly for your own good

too kind and too beautiful

it was almost unfair really

you both became fast friends after that night

you took jessie's phone one night and put your number in it

you texted every day since

the first soccer game that she played after meeting you, you were there in the stands cheering her on

possibly one of the loudest people there

you managed to get everyone chanting for jessie after she scored in the second half

you had this natural affinity for talking to people and making connections

she envied you in that retrospect

you were convinced that jessie had the same effect on people

she just didn't believe you really

you both would spend time studying talking in the library together

back and forth between each others dorm rooms

your sisters joked that jessie would need to pledge if she kept spending so much time at the sorority

jessie knew that she liked girls, had never ever told anyone about it

it was her biggest secret

but she knew that she loved you

you were so different to any other girl that she had laid eyes on

you made existing easier

jessie’s teammates started to notice the difference in her too

she had never been a loud or cocky teammate

but since you started coming to games she found that little bit of extra faith in herself

she scored more, played better and showed off a little more

they chalked it up to you bringing her out of her shell

people were confused by your friendship at first

future sorority president best friends with a engineering major???? unheard of really

but it soon became clear that you guys were a package deal

you were invited to a party? Jessie was coming

jessie had a bonfire with her teammates? it was assumed that you would be bringing marshmallows to toast come sunset

you both were rarely seen without the other

and that became your new normal

you had never spoken to jessie about any guys that you were interested in, but had never mentioned any girls either

so she wasn't sure for ages what your sexuality was

but when you organised a pride parade on campus and showed up with two little flags painted on your cheeks- she finally got that confirmation.

and it was as you painted two little flags of her own colours onto her face that she went for it

jessie fleming kissed you

little shy awkward nerdy jessie just came out and kissed you

I mean.. you weren't complaining

afterwards she was an apologetic mess

"oh my god, I'm so sorry" "that was so not okay of me" "I totally crossed a boundary there" "I am so so sorry" "I'll go"

but when you grabbed her face and told her to "shut up, fleming" and kissed her again it was like everything just kinda made sense?

jessie had never been more content in her life

no goal, or win, or trophy could ever top that first kiss with you

you were her baby, completely untouchable

[ratboyvince]

The Magnus Protocol - Glitch theory

In light of the current theory/assumption that in The Magnus Protocol, the audio glitches when the characters lie, I’ve been re listening!! And I’m going to be using this post and others to explore what this means for our beloved characters

The glitches aren’t on the transcript, sometimes there will be a direction like (uncertain) or (unconvincing), but thats the best i can do you for, otherwise you will have to take my word

First though, quick clarifications: what exactly is a lie in this context? - this is fairly obvious but i am including it for the avoidance of any doubt what i have gathered is that, in this theory we are assuming a lie is a character saying something they KNOW is not true in attempt to wilfully deceive someone

It is NOT:

A joke, or sarcasm

Believing something but being wrong

Finally, a lot of the lies i have so far are ones that are known to known to be untrue, what i will do is have a list of the blatant lies SO FAR to make my point, to work as support for the theory on this post then leave out any following ones to avoid making it excessively long.

The rest of them will be under the cut and more on a thread, sorted by episode. If i miss any, feel free to say!!

BLATANT LIES (theory support)

1.

Teddy: Colin was just saying how much of a BLAST he’s having (GLITCH) isn’t that right?

Lena: oh really.

Colin: Aye, sure (GLITCH)

Teddy: And how he’d love to take the after party to the Pub (GLITCH)

2.

Gwen: Sam? You okay?

Sam: um. Yeah. (GLITCH)

3.

Sam: cinnamon swirl. Please. (GLITCH)

4.

Gwen: Wait. Did you get me a coffee?

Sam: yeah. (GLITCH)

5.

Celia: Sorry, sorry, there was an emergency at home (GLITCH)

EPISODES 1-11 (where applicable) UNDER THE CUT

Episode 1

Teddy: Nahh, we’ll stay in touch, right?

Alice: Course…(GLITCH)

Alice either did not intend to keep in touch with Teddy, or genuinely just does not believe they will.

* saying she’ll miss him was NOT a lie, so it’s probably the latter

Episode 3

Sam: right, right i get it. Consider me *scared straight* (GLITCH)

He wasn’t taking Alice seriously, underestimating how serious it actually was (maybe even as light payback for her not taking him seriously)

Episode 5

Lena: I am certain that if he finds his current assignment unmanageable he can request assistance (GLITCH) or resign, of course…

She knows what the deal is with Central IT (whatever “the deal” may be), and just refuses to help. Maybe even sets up a little hostility between Lena and Colin?

Episode 7

Alice: listen, if you need to step out for some air-

Celia: no, I’m fine, really (GLITCH)

Celia was infact, not fine, probably because she recognised Chester’s voice as Jon “The Archivist” Sims himself and she’s freaked out

Episode 8

Gertrude: well I’m…sorry, but I don’t think gerry can help you. (GLITCH)

—

Gerry: -And then i left

Sam: and that’s all?

Gerry: Yeah I’m afraid so! (GLITCH)

Gertrude and Gerry know more than they’re letting on, and intentionally not sharing.

*Gerry not remembering most of it being true, means that while he’s probably leaving something out, there’s more he genuinely is lost on

Sam: I…may have given you a quick google

Celia: then…yeah. I’m doing a favour for Georgie. (GLITCH)

She Is Not Doing A Favour For Georgie - the research (teleportation, time travel, different universes) is more personal!

Episode 11

Sam: you keep glancing at the door

Alice: ah. It’s nothing (GLITCH)

—

Alice: it’ll be nothing! I’m just jumpy (GLITCH)

Alice is dismissing her anxiety following the trip to the institute.

Alice: “What have I told you about thinking?“

Sam: “Don’t.”

Alice: “That’s right.” (GLITCH)

Probably meaning that Alice is starting to doubt her own ideas, but is just pushing that uncertainty away because that’s what she does and she’s still more comfortable in ignorance, even if she doesn’t think it’s exactly RIGHT to ignore.

[temis-de-leon]

Solomon x Insecure fem!S/O

Characters: Solomon x fem!MC

Main Masterlist

Requested by @kirshimadenkisero: hello! may i please request solomon with a fem! s/o who’s very self conscious about her appearance, such as her slight belly fat, the stretch marks on her inner thighs, her acne, etc? i’ve been struggling with my appearance lately and solomon is my go-to comfort character, so this would really help. thank you! drink water!

A/N: I didn't go much into detail with the self-deprecating thoughts or the body descriptions, but they're still there, at plain sight. I hope you like it and I deeply hope it makes you feel at least a little bit better. To Romance Anon and M. Anon, don't worry, I'm writing your requests too :)

CW: the mental struggles of being chubby and the physical struggles of being chubby in summer. Comparing your body with someone else's isn't good. Also, the sadness of being immortal

.

“Aren’t you hot?”

MC blinked at the question, moistening her eyes after several minutes of staring at the screen before turning to the side, but her body had slouched so far down the couch that she had to look up to talk to Solomon.

Her favourite fellow human had a mixture of emotions on his face: fondness, worry and surprise. His arms were completely spread out over the backrest, initially to offer her a place to rest and later to make more space for him to sweat. The air was sticky with warmth, blinds closed down to give them the full cinema experience and not a window open to keep the mosquitoes out.

To her greatest pleasure, Solomon had accepted defeat by the time the second movie started and took his shirt off. MC, on the other hand, although dying to do the same, was still wearing an oversized t-shirt and some ugly, worn down, capris pants. Every piece of fabric stuck to her skin like a punishment and beads of sweat travelled along the curves of her body to stain her clothes.

It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t comfortable, but she didn’t want to change. They had a dinner party the night before and MC had the atrocious idea of wearing a long summer dress. When they finally got home, her inner thighs were red and hurting and the embarrassment had persisted for the next day and the entirety of their movie marathon.

So, not wanting to make him feel bad for her own insecurities while they were having a good time, MC chuckled and faked an excessive sultry look.

“Is that an actual question or a compliment?”

MC felt like her body was seconds away from exploding, breaking skin and searching for fresh air. The cooling spell he’d casted earlier must’ve slowly worn off while they were immersed in the beginning of the trilogy.

“I would say you’re hot, yes, but it was a legitimate question” he softly laughed. “Why don’t you take your pants off? Else, you’re going to get sick”

“I’m going to get sick from being too hot?”

A flick of impatience crossed his face, but he quickly erased it by laughing again.

“Well, I hope not. Otherwise you’d be bedridden”

His flattery made her genuinely smile and she noticed her face warming up from something significantly different than the high temperature in the room.

“You spend too much time with Asmodeus”

“Look who’s talking”

Solomon kept his mouth open and MC stared in apprehension, keeping a few uncomfortable seconds between them until he finally shook his head and turned to continue watching the movie. She tried to mask her relief, doing the same, but she could tell that he wasn’t as engrossed anymore.

Minutes passed, almost half an hour, until Solomon finally cooled down the room again with a wave of his hand. Her body eased and she almost broke with a satisfied groan, letting herself fall against his body and momentarily forgetting about her previous discomfort.

The darkness of the screen and the haunting chanting of a woman dragged her to unconsciousness, but she forced her eyes open, paying excessive attention to the plot. It was a sad scene, one of the saddest by far, and it wasn’t too long before Solomon’s hand creeped behind her back and grabbed her shoulder. At first she was confused and then, making her heart stop for just a second, she recognized what had suddenly worried her boyfriend.

“Do you think that’s how she felt?” she asked, trying not to see their relationship portrayed in the movie. “Lilith, I mean”

Solomon hummed, not letting her go, and slowly, but surely, started to nod. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and she immediately wished things were different.

“Most probably, yes” he stayed silent for a few seconds, staring at Arwen crying on her father’s shoulder with great despair. Then, he said what MC desperately wanted to avoid hearing “That’s how I feel too”

A familiar sting closed her throat. The consequences of dating an immortal man, she supposed.

“I imagine going to your burial more often that I would like” he continued saying in a hushed, dark tone. “But I don’t think I would be able to leave after”

“What? You’ve never told me this!”  

“Well, it’s not the happiest of conversations”

“Don’t be like that” MC pleaded, sitting straight to look at him directly. “We don’t even know if that’s how it’s going to go. Maybe I'll turn immortal too”

He let out a humourless chuckle, pulling her close until she was sitting on his lap before pausing the movie. A heavy silence settled and MC became painfully aware of everything. It wasn’t the first time they had been so close to each other, but she didn’t feel happy about it this time, her body glued to his in such a way that the possibility of him not feeling every inch of her was almost non-existent.

The fateful end of their relationship, the depreciating thoughts about herself and the immense love he was looking at her with made her feel nauseous.

“Do you really think that?”

“If life has taught me something, is that anything can happen” she shrugged, brushing his hair before kissing his forehead. “Who knows? Maybe we’re not Aragorn and Arwen. Maybe we’re Gandalf and Galadriel and we’ll stay together until you grow a beard and I become pretty”

“You’re extremely beautiful”

Solomon looked like she offended him, which made her laugh, but she didn’t feel like she was lying. With fair smooth skin, long silken hair and a body resembling a dream, it was impossible to look at the elf and not feel disappointment.

“And I’m not like Gandalf”

“What do you mean? He’s a wizard and he’s an old man”

“Do not call me an old man” he begged with a heartbroken face, but she only laughed harder.

He smiled at her giddy expression, putting her hair behind her ear before making her head rest on his chest. MC thought he would play the movie again, but he didn’t move.

“Aren’t Gandalf and Galadriel just friends, anyway? I don’t want to be just friends with you, MC”

“He’s in love with her, though”

“Is he?”

“Are you serious? Look at her!”

“I don’t want to look at her, I want to look at you!” he laughed, sneaking his hand under her shirt and caressing her back. She thought of rejecting his touch, but with the way he was keeping her so close, that would’ve been a stupid decision. At the same time, his words made her heart beat ridiculously faster. “I don’t want to be Aragorn and date Arwen and I don’t want to be Gandalf and be in love with Galadriel. I want to be me, being in love with you and dating you. And no one is going to take that away from me, not even you”

Her throat closed again and her vision became blurry. How could she even answer that?

“Your tastes are messed up” she finally said in a wobbly voice.

“Your perception is messed up” he refuted, pushing her away to dry the tears and kiss the corner of her eyes, then her cheeks, the tip of her nose and, finally, her lips. “Let’s turn off the movie, I have something much better to look at tonight”

.

.