#oc: sarah young | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

howlett-n-morgan · 14 days ago

Text

More Than Words

1. Familiar Stranger

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of skin to skin contact is the biggest burden imaginable, until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: This might be a lot for the start of a series but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of a witch trial, burning at the stake, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan's claws come out lol... I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter Summary: Nightmares that were long forgotten come crawling back, seemingly without meaning, until everything falls into place with the arrival of a familiar stranger... and he gets nightmares, too.

Word Count: 6.5k

And now there was this Logan character. “Bulletproof, huh?” he didn’t seem skeptical, just unimpressed. “And fireproof,” you added with a small smile, turning and going down the hall to find the next open room. It was the one besides yours, and yes, you absolutely did that on purpose. “Forgive me for being forward… but I think I know you.” “You know me? Doubtful.”

The X gene - typically found in people with mutant family history - begins showing itself around the time of adolescence, usually blossoming in young teenagers. You remember the first time you realized there was something wrong with you. The year was 1780.

You were only thirteen, and were showing signs of something no one could put a finger on. The first instance was doing laundry with your cousin, Sarah, and dipping your hands into the water the same time that she did. Her hands started to burn, and she pulled her fingers from the basin quickly, only to find her hands were fine, and the water wasn’t even that hot. You thought that maybe it was a fluke, but then the second occurrence took place.

You’d been playing near the lake with some of your friends on your twentieth birthday, when a bolt of lightning struck you. Your friends gathered nearby to see if you were alright, but were baffled completely to find you standing there as if nothing had happened.

That was the day that time stopped, and you never grew older.

These were things that told you there was a difference within you, but you never knew how lethal it actually was until it reached its full potential. You only wish you’d been given a warning.

The day it all went for worse, and your life became hell, was actually a very sunny day. You woke up the same, got dressed the same, even went out back to milk the cow… but the second you touched her, she fell limp, collapsing to the ground. Your eyes widened in terror when you realized the lovely farm animal had lost her life in that split second, unable to move, or breath.

You ran back inside to tell your mother, but you were not careful, because how could you have known it was your fault? How could you have known your body was capable of this?

Your mother laid a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and you brought your hand to meet hers. She too fell instantly, and it was then that you realized.

Your touch is death.

You clung to your mother, the last person you were able to touch, crying and wailing out.

That was the first of your crimes, but many men made the mistake of coming into contact with you that day, and it stands to reason why you have been sentenced to death. Witchcraft being their assumption on your methods, and mass murder being the charge.

You almost believed them. Almost thought that something evil was possessing you, making you do wicked and unholy things…

Standing tied to the stake by a man with thick leather gloves, all eyes were on you, waiting for your atonement. You saw every torch that was burning, closing your eyes and accepting the punishment. You killed your mother, and eleven men. There were enough witnesses to send you straight to your grave. You waited for the flames, and felt the heat when they finally set the fires, quickly approaching you. When your eyes opened, you could see the wall of fire over the hay bales, nearly ten feet tall and at every corner. It crawled up by you and then-

You sat up in your bed, sweat dripping from your brow, and the digital alarm clock going off in your peripheral vision.

It’s just another dream… but you haven’t had it in years.

You treat it like the rest, going about your morning like it never happened. You’d discuss it with Charles later, he seemed to know what your nightmares meant most of the time. He knew your mind better than most, and could enter with a single thought.

Downstairs, the commotion was rowdy, but you went ahead through the crowded space carefully and slipped on your favorite pair of forest green gloves, buckling the cute straps on the back as you made your way to the kitchen. Ororo had just brewed some coffee, and Scott was carrying two plates towards the doorway when you entered.

“Smells good,” you said, smiling at them both, and going for a mug from the cabinet.

Scott stopped short, turning on his heel to ask you a question.

“I forgot about this yesterday,” he started, looking over in your direction through his red shades. “Can you take a look at the School’s Enrollment system when you get a chance? I couldn’t add a new student and I’m not sure why.”

You nodded, pouring the coffee and giving him a look of confidence. “I’m sure I can fix it, probably just the computer again.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, going to leave again, but then remembering one more thing. “Oh, and Jean loves that book you lent her, she’s been up late reading.”

“I knew she would… if she wants anything else, my library is always open,” you replied jokingly.

He left afterwards, taking his plate of breakfast and his wonderful girlfriend’s out of the room.

“You do too much, y’know?”

You looked at Ororo, her eyes just barely peeking over her own mug.

“I like to keep busy,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee and finally letting yourself settle into the morning. “And it’s not too much if I can help you guys.”

“You know that’s not what I mean… you’ve been looking exhausted.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m not being critical, I’m concerned,” she said, stepping to lean against the kitchen island so she could look at you straight on. “If there’s something going on, you can tell me.”

Yes, you could tell her. She and Jean were the closest thing you’d had to a sister in years.

“The nightmares are back again… the last few nights have been a little rough.”

She pushed away from the counter, the look on her face reading confusion and worry. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I was,” you drank more coffee, eyebrows raised. “I don’t even know where they’re coming from. Some of these dreams I haven’t had for over fifty years. Usually they’re only about…”

“Charlie,” she finished for you when you trailed off. You nodded, your head falling forward a bit at the mention of his name. You hadn’t dreamt of him for a while, not even good things.

“I need to visit the professor after class, he can usually tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s probably best. Those dark circles will only get worse, believe me,” she joked, gesturing to her own eyes, a bit worn with exhaustion from working late this week.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” you spoke with a small grin, finishing off your coffee in a big chug before rinsing the mug out in the sink. “Have a good class.”

“You, too.”

Looking out the window of Professor Xaiver’s office, you recalled the events of your nightmare, trying to put yourself back in the situation to see it clearly. It wasn’t easy, to relive these memories, even worse when they plagued your unconscious state… but Charles would know what it was about. He always did.

“Tell me again, first the cow, and then your mother?” He squinted, trying to put pieces together.

“Yes, I went out to milk the cow in the morning, like always,” you paused, the green grass outside the mansion reminding you of the pastures you lived by. “I touched betsy first, then my mother inside the house.”

All the little details should have painted a very vivid picture, but for some odd reason, nothing was coming together for Charles. He couldn’t see how this dream equated with your life as it was, and why it plagued you now.

“I’m sorry to say it, my dear, but this may just be a regular nightmare. I cannot, from what you have told me, recognize any pattern or significance.”

“There has to be something… I haven’t had this dream in years,” you argued, unwilling to give up when you know he’s the only one who can tell you.

He paused, closing his eyes and raking through the files of your mind to try and feel the impact of a cause… but found none. “I’m afraid the only thing I can offer is a theory. Your mind is subconsciously reminding you of your powers, what they mean. You’ve long since learned to control them, so I cannot imagine it is because of self doubt. Whatever it is, you may just have to wait and watch for more signs.”

“More signs? Like more dreams?”

“Something of that sort, yes. Until then, I’m sorry I could not help you.” He rolled his chair towards the door, following you out and into the hall. He had a meeting with Hank, and couldn’t afford to miss it.

“It’s not your fault… I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m always annoying you with problems that don’t have anything to do with you,” you joked slightly, walking alongside him until he met his destination.”

“And I am always happy to assist you.”

“I know,” you ducked your head, stopping at the door way he entered. “But I am grateful.”

“Take that gratuity and focus it on yourself. You need to rest, you look like a raccoon.”

You chuckled, closing the door for the man, and walking down towards the kitchen again. You only needed a small pick me up before you would inevitably take a very long nap. You’d been going on a few hours of sleep each night due to the grading of homework, and the bad dreams only made the nights worse. You were somehow thankful not to wake up screaming before your alarm went off this morning.

You headed upstairs to crash, only to find a note in your room from Jean.

Thanks for the book, I finished it today… gonna need the next one soon. - J

A small smile spread across your face when you saw the book had already been put back on your shelf, neatly placed among the organization you normally kept it in.

Your bookshelf spanned an entire wall, nearly becoming like a second library to the mansion for whosoever needed it.

You didn’t necessarily love reading, but you did love knowledge, and books were one of the only ways to obtain such a tricky thing.

Truth be told, you didn’t like a lot of learning methods, but again, you craved to know everything you could, to be not only educated but able to have a brain that could stand the tests of time. So far, it’s done a pretty decent job. Having been alive for over two hundred and thirty years came with some perks, one being, you can go to college as many times as you want, with only a different ID, and practically nothing can stop you from earning as many degrees as your heart desires.

When Charles first met you, he knew you were a mutant, but more than that, he knew you had the aptitude of a scholar. It was no wonder you excelled in his training. If only you just attained his powers of neurological exploration, there would be no stopping you.

You flopped backwards on the bed, looking up to your wall of diplomas and degrees. Master’s in Technological Sciences, Bachelor’s in Archival History, a silly little Associate's in Music Theory, mainly because you were feeling artistic, and lastly, the certification for practicing Law in the state of New York. You didn’t even go to law school, you’d just been bored for a while in the seventies, and the bar wasn’t that hard to pass for someone that’s been around since the first laws were written into the constitution.

All these degrees, all these years of mastering different types of knowledge, and yet you felt completely in the dark about your own mental state. You couldn’t even figure out what your own dreams meant, or why they were back in the first place.

You passed out cold while raking your mind for possibilities, finding none along the way.

It was a dreamless sleep this time, and for that you’d be grateful, earning some uninterrupted rest for the first time in weeks, not having to worry about waking up in a panicked sweat again.

You were supposed to take a thirty minute cat nap… maybe an hour at most. Looking at the clock as you came to, it was 6 pm, meaning two and a half hours had come and gone, and you had missed much of the after school activities..

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, climbing out of the sheets and running to the bathroom to become a bit more human looking.

You'd run down the stairs to find the usual amount of commotion, but none of the adults were here, just the kids.

“Bobby?” You asked, making him halt his walk towards the next corridor. “Do you know where everyone is?”

“They left about a half hour ago. Something came up,” he turned to leave but stopped throwing a line over his shoulder. “Almost forgot… they left you in charge.”

“Great,” you mumbled, nodding to him in thanks for the information.

You were fine dealing with the kids, but being the sole adult present in a room full of on edge teenagers put you under some stress. The one person in this entire mansion that could kill someone with a single touch was left responsible for the safety of these younglings? It was a bad idea to begin with, but you took a deep breath, knowing you had to until they were back.

You only wondered what happened that they were gone so quickly, without a chance to tell you themselves.

The only way to control a mutant child is to just not even try, so with knowing you were now heading the household until everyone returned, you decided to just go and kick back in the main entertainment room. The more authority is pushed, the more the kids would resist. So you didn’t push at all, just started a game of uno with some of the kids.

“This isn’t that serious, just lay down a card!” John scolded the younger girl beside him, watching her shuffle through practically half the deck that she had in her hands.

“I have them organized, I’m looking for the blues,” Kitty explained, ignoring his futile attempts at winning faster. “If I’m gonna lose, I’m gonna take my time.”

“If you had a four or any color, that would have worked, too,” you shrugged, but ultimately let her keep shuffling through until she found a card she was satisfied with.

“Aha, reverse. And I know you just played your last blue card,” she mocked John, watching him roll his eyes and begin to draw new cards.

You laughed and little, seeing his deck grow bigger until he found a blue one.

“Well, that’s uno for me,” you said, laying down a blue five and waiting for it to circle back to you again. “Sorry, John.”

“Kitty I swear, change the color,” he begged, hoping there was something that could salvage the game for him. “She’s gonna win if you don’t.”

“I’d rather let her win, then we can start over,” she gestured to the large amount of cards in her hand, completely stacked with practically every color of the deck.

“Don’t be so competitive, it’s just uno,” you laughed, trying to lighten his mood over such a silly thing.

“It’s not just uno, you win at everything…” he trailed matter of factly, giving you a slanted look through his eyebrows. “It’s impossible.”

“I’ve been around a while longer than you have, maybe I’ve just picked up some tricks.”

“With uno?” He scoffed, finally coming to his senses and laughing a little.

“Maybe,” you smirk, laying down your last card and going out. “But there’s another game for ya.”

“Like I said, impossible.”

You smiled, watching them throw their hands into the pile so you could reshuffle and deal again. This may or may not have been the third game in a row. And yes, you tended to be good at the other board games kept in the entertainment room’s cabinets.

“Wanna go four for four.?” You asked, already knowing they would play with you, though you beat them every time.

But then you could feel something in the air, a tension that was coming from outside somewhere. You wondered if it could be a possible intrusion, so you stood up and looked out the window, the sun completely down by now.

“What’s wrong?” Kitty asked, standing up alongside you to try and figure out what you sensed.

It was growing, more anxious, and you realized then that it wasn’t an intruder at all, because the anxious energy was radiating off of familiar presences.

“Something happened,” you rushed to the back door, watching as the jet landed, sinking back into the earth where it usually came up from. The basketball court closed over top of it, and you could see the trees and grass and bushes become still when the winds calmed down. “You’ll have to play this round without me.”

“What happened? Where did they go?”

“I don’t know, let me find out. Make sure no one burns the house down, I’ll be back.”

And you rushed to the elevator, going down beneath the mansion to find the X central base. You heard the commotion as soon as you stepped off, all things pointing to the medical bay at the end of the long lit stretch.

Your legs carried your faster than they normally would, getting you there in seconds.

“Scott?” you called as soon as you saw him. “What’s going on?”

“Two new mutants, one in critical condition,” he began, pointing to the outline of a man on the surgical table, Jean doing her best to work on him with the help of Ororo on the side. “The other is with Charles, he’s trying to help her calm down, but she’s pretty shaken up.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Tell the kids, make sure they don’t panic?” he offered, and you nodded. You can’t touch anyone, so it was unlikely you could aid in either of their situations currently. “Maybe leave out the part where there’s a mutant in critical condition. We still don’t even know why they were attacked.”

“Was it a human group?” You asked, eyes flitting between both corners of the med bay. The chaos was still going on, everyone’s movements were rapid, and the girl in the corner was still crying in fear.

“No, it was them…”

“Oh,” you understood right away what he meant. Eric and his small gang of misfits that refused to coexist with the humans. They believed mutants were superior, and therefore should not have to conform to any nation’s rules or mandates. You partially understood them from a fear aspect, not wanting laws against mutants to be passed, or mistreatment of mutants for their abilities, but the way they go about it is always wrong, and harmful. They are clearly even willing to hurt other mutants to get what they want. “Are we any closer to finding them?”

“Nope,” he sighed, scrolling through the tablet in his hands and trying to find out if the tracker he placed actually amounted to anything. He would bet not, since the signal wasn’t even coming up. “Lost ‘em in the snow…”

“Snow?” You turned to him quickly, “where the hell did you guys go?”

“It’s a long story, you missed it when you were napping,” he partially joked, going back to his task. “I’ll fill you in later, just go make sure the kids know we’re fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, turning on your heel and leaving. You didn’t run to the elevator this time, shaking off the feeling that something big was coming. You didn’t know what or why you felt it, but it was creeping up on you since you stepped off the elevator.

The next morning, the entire house was buzzing with the excitement of new recruits. You’d yet to meet them, but felt their energy in and around the house, coming and going from different rooms when you started to go about your day.

You knew that the time for introductions would come eventually, and likely when classes were over.

Everything had been nearly the same as the day before, except Scott didn’t have a computer problem that needed solving, so you actually got done with your other work pretty quickly. You went to get the mail that Hank always just left on the entryway table, trying to sort through so you could drop it off at each person’s individual rooms.

“Alice?”

“Yeah?” you mumbled without turning around, hearing Jean’s voice.

“I want to introduce you to some people. These are our new guests. Rogue, and Logan.”

You’d turned around during Jean’s introduction of the two new recruits, however short it was, like she needed to leave them with you. You understood this was a vital time for the team, and distractions weren’t welcome… but she’d only just now handed off said distraction, and boy was it one to behold. The girl was sweet looking, about fifteen if you had to guess, but the man? You look him over once and immediately you have a flash of deja vu. Dark hair, a soft grin, and pretty hazel eyes. He’s much taller than you, and you have to look up to meet his stare.

You smiled to them, giving a nod and placing your hands behind your back in the case they might want to shake one.

“Rogue has a mutation with similar effects to yours. If she touches someone for even a few seconds, they could die.”

You furrowed your brows when looked down at the sweet girl before you. What a sad thing to share with someone. You can see her whole life ahead of her, and the things she will have to endure just as you did, and it makes you feel compassion.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, I know how hard it can be,” you told her. She smiled and nodded this time, just as you did but in return. She seemed to be a shy thing, head dipping every so often to appear smaller than she was.

“Could you show them the open rooms? I’ve got to be back with Charles in a moment,” Jean rushed through, seemingly pressed for time. You were only all too happy to take them off her hands.

“Of course. Let me know what happens in there, will you?”

She nodded, squeezing your clothed shoulder before turning on her heel and heading down the corridor.

“So you’re like me?” Rogue asked, trying to make conversation now that she knew you had something in common.

“A bit, yeah,” you cocked your head in one direction, getting them to follow after you. “My body is made up of a few types of radioactive energy. One is regular matter, the other is anti-matter, but the third is something completely unknown to the human or mutant race.”

“How does it work?” She followed you up the stairs, and Logan did, too. He was listening, but didn’t give off the vibe that he was interested.

“Well, the instant I touch anyone, they die. The professor was the one who finally helped me learn to control the energy, though. Now I can use it to shield myself and others from dangerous attacks.”

“Attacks… you mean like guns and stuff? Are you bulletproof?!”

You smiled at her endless curiosity, boundless in asking questions that you barely even knew the answers to.

“Pretty much, yeah. Bulletproof, fireproof, everything really.”

“Whoa…” she trailed, and luckily, to stop the flow of questions, you turned down the hall and opened a door to an empty room.

“This one’s for you,” you smiled at her and let her walk through the doorway, almost immediately becoming more settled now that she had a place to stay. “Let me know if you need anything, I’m at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you.”

A smile, and a small dip of your head as you closed the door allowed her to relax.

And now there was this Logan character.

“Bulletproof, huh?” he didn’t seem skeptical, just unimpressed.

“And fireproof,” you added with a small smile, turning and going down the hall to find the next open room. It was the one besides yours, and yes, you absolutely did that on purpose. “Forgive me for being forward… but I think I know you.”

“You know me? Doubtful.”

“No, I definitely know you,” you opened the door for him, but didn’t intend on leaving yet. You didn’t say anything in front of the girl, but the moments you turned around downstairs, you recognized him from somewhere. The downside of living for over two hundred years is that maybe you didn’t always remember people years down the line. “The question is, how did I meet you?”

“Look, doll… I only have the last fifteen years of my memory, and all I really know is that I’m not human, and I can’t die either,” he paused, taking a step closer, but keeping a safe enough distance as to not make contact with the previously mentioned radioactive skin. “But even if I remembered before that, you’re too young to have met me.”

“Young?” you raised your eyebrows, not to mock or belittle him, but just shocked he would make such an assumption, especially knowing the school that he’s at right now.

“Yeah, young. What are you, nineteen?”

“Two hundred and thirty three this year,” you answered with a dull expression of normalcy.

For a minute, he didn’t know if you were being serious, but upon searching your face for more indications, he found nothing that told him otherwise.

“Really…” he reacted skeptical this time. “Got an ID?”

The joke was mildly entertaining, but if what he said was true, he wouldn't be able to tell you when or how you met. It was a dead end, and there were much more pressing matters downstairs.

“Let me know if you need anything. That's my door,” you pointed to the one beside his, and he nodded with a smirk. You absolutely did that on purpose.

“Will do.”

He didn’t bother you the rest of the evening, but you kind of wish he had…

Your cell was cold and binding, your claustrophobic tendencies getting worse with every day you spent here. Your body was broken, your legs crumbling beneath you whenever you would try to stand.

There was nothing you could do to help the pain, your energy was depleted from everything they took out of you, and you couldn’t even summon the strength to shield them if they come again. You know you'll die. The next time they come, opening your cage and dragging you through the halls in their self righteous futuristic looking uniforms. They always scoffed at your mistreatment. Mutants were the scum of the earth, and by torturing you and your kind, they thought they were doing mankind a favor.

The sirens that suddenly blared in your ears brought about a sense of danger that hadn’t ever settled in the cell block before. Something that was foreign and unknown. This had never happened before. It was always silent as mutants were taken and used for their abilities, experiments falling over most of them.

You thought that maybe the government had finally gotten ahold of Striker and his plans, ready to shut down the program and finish the job. Humans these days hated anything that was different from them, most of all the mutant race.

You braced yourself, curling into the corner of the cage and closing your eyes. It would come any minute now. The blow of death while you were unable to shield yourself.

You heard the cage squeak on its hinges, but there was no blow of death, only kind words from someone you've never met.

“C'mon, get up… we're getting you out,” he said, pulling you from your feared bracing and making your eyes shoot open. Your arms and legs were bare in the clothes they gave you, meaning your skin was open to be touched.

He grabbed at your arm, and you couldn’t even stop him… but he didn't fall, he continued to help you up, shouldering you out of the cell and onto your own two feet. By now the adrenaline kicked in, and you were able to walk through the pain, knowing this was your only shot to be free.

“Who are you?” You asked in wonder. You met his eyes, and they were the most beautiful you think you've seen. Hazel, with gold in the middle.

“Just someone that wants to help,” he said, letting you fend on your own now that he could feel your legs carrying you on their own. He went to help more, and you had to try and shake him from your mind just for the moment. There would come a time when you could ask questions, but now was for you to run.

You caught up with one of the groups heading for the exit, and came across a few guards. You wondered if you even had your power anymore. That man, he touched you and survived. That's never happened before. Your skin is death, and no one escapes the reaper…

You touched one of the guards with your open flesh and he instantly died upon contact. And that could only mean one thing. The mutant who was saving everyone was immune to your powers, and nobody else was.

You have to find this man, but going back would almost mean certain doom for you, and you can't bring yourself to die yet. There's more life left to live.

Once you escape the bunker, coming outside to a clearing, there waits a man in a wheelchair, rolling down from a hovering jet… and you know that jet. It belongs to-

“Charles?” You murmur, and within an instant, he was back in your head for the first time in over ten years. “Is it really you?”

“It's really me. I must look different than last time we met,” he smirked, handing you a pair of gloves and letting you lean on his chair to walk up the ramp. The others followed, and then the jet took off, no time to waste. “But you haven't changed at all.”

You collapsed into the seat closest to you, and then -

You sprung up from your pillows.

This nightmare wasn't even a nightmare. It was still a memory, but not a bad one. It was something you tried to forget, but of course there was a single detail that could not be wiped from your memory if you tried.

Logan.

He's the man that saved your life all those years ago. And more than that, he's the only person in the world you've met for over two hundred years that can touch you.

It’s late, and when you turn to find that your clock says three in the morning, you hesitate… but things like this never happen, so your ability to wait until the sun at least rises is completely destroyed. You throw the sheets and comforter off your bed, and forget modesty in your haste. Wearing only the tiniest shorts from your dresser and the only clean shirt on hand, you made a quick trek from your room to the one next door.

Knocking was out of the question, obviously. He’d be asleep, right?

When you barged in, he seemed to be having the same conundrum as you only a few minutes ago. His brows were furrowed, his mouth twisted in a look of something painful. Perhaps the very reason you were awoken from your slumber was to assist him with his… or maybe you were delusional and needed to go back to your room.

“Logan?” you approached gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out for him. You wanted to calm him down if you could, he looked so scared in whatever dream he was having.

He startled awake with lightning speed, his reactive senses making him sit straight up in bed, claws out and ready to attack. You yelped and fell off the bed, leaving a loud thunk on the ground. The amount of terror rushing through you suddenly left for the oddest reason.

Looking down, your arm had been cut in three parallel lines. Not deep enough to severely wound you, but enough that you could feel the sting, and see the blood rising to the surface of the skin. You didn’t think you could bleed.

“Alice?” He calmed down, immediately worried over what he’d done. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you looked up at him, a look of utter joy on your face and he had no idea why. His confusion soared even more when instead of running from him you pulled yourself back up onto his bed, leaning closer.

“Are you… alright? What’s going on?”

“I remembered you. Where I met you,” you explained, getting even closer and making him nervous, considering your specific mutation he’s heard so much about. You completely forgot about your arm, leaving it for later.

“Where?”

He was eager to remember anything about his past before the blank space. He wanted badly to know where he comes from, and if you had anything to do with how he got here. He knows it’s probably a slim chance, since you had to try hard to remember him upon his arrival.

You closed the gap and reached your hand out to his arm, and he flinched away. “Are you crazy? You could kill me.”

“No, I can’t,” you told him, watching his eyes as you finally reached again and touched his skin. He didn’t drop dead, or have any other side effects for that matter, and you breathed out in relief, a smile spreading across your face.

He was again confused, and more so shocked. His features couldn’t comprehend how this was happening if what everyone said was true. You’d killed people even accidently with the brush of an elbow, so how is he still living and breathing, your hand on his forearm?

“How did you know?” He wondered, his full focus now on what you could tell him.

“Does the name William Striker ring a bell?” You squinted, knowing it was a longshot, but hoping he might know, anyway.

“It sounds familiar, but I don’t recall a face or a history to go with it.”

“He gave you these,” you reached for his other hand, claws still drawn from his nightmare. “And he gave me these…”

You gestured to the scars on your legs and raised your shirt slightly so he could see the ones on your torso. All healed over by now but still reasonably protruding if you stare at them too long.

“He’d held so many mutants captive, but you set us free,” you watched as his claws retracted back into his skin, and then you took his unclenched hand. “You saved my life.”

“I don’t think that was me,” he shook his head. He doesn’t remember who he was, but he knows who he is now, and it couldn’t be that far from his past self… yet you spoke of him as though he were some caped figure with an agenda for fighting bad guys. “I don’t do things like that.”

“Logan,” you huffed, unwilling to let him negate himself, especially when you’ve waited all these years to talk to him again, to give him the gratitude you felt he deserved. “I have been alive for over two hundred years. During that time I have been all over the world, met as many mutants as there are stars in the sky… and not one could touch me, until you. I know it was you who saved me.”

“I’m no hero, kid…” he shook his head, his eyes falling to the cuts on your arm, the blood getting thicker and threatening to run down the expanse of your arm and onto your shirt.

“You were to me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved my life that day… and so many other mutants. Scott being one of them, he just doesn’t remember.”

“I saved Scott?” he cringed, and you laughed, having gotten notes of their instant rivalry in the energy around the mansion.

“Yes, you did… and I never got to thank you for it, so… thank you.”

He nodded, still unsure of this past exchange and how much he had to do with it. You clearly remembered being helped by him. Enough so that you were willing to bet his life on whether or not he could touch you. He feels bad, now, seeing the red begin to run down your arm, he certainly doesn’t feel like a hero, and his actions don’t show him being one, either… but he can do something about that.

“Can I help you with that?” He pointed to the bloody open wound, which had been ignored until now.

“I’ll take care of it, it’s not too bad.”

“No, I wanna do it… I’m the one that put it there,” he sighed when he stood up from bed, going into the hall and finding the bathroom. He’d seen a first aid kit in there somewhere.

When he comes back he looks clueless on how to even open the box.

“It has a child lock on it, lemme see,” you reached, and he batted your hands away softly, figuring it out himself.

“I’m not a child,” he retorted dryly, reaching into the box and finding the proper supplies.

He did decently, you’d have to say. Started with the cleansing wipes, then moved on to the antibacterial treatment and gauze wraps. Finished it off with a good layer of medical tape, securing it with a soft movement of his hands. They looked rough, but had been nothing but gentle.

“You do this a lot?” You asked, wondering if perhaps it might trigger a memory.

“Not to myself, and not to anyone else I can remember.”

“Well you did a good job.”

He nodded in thanks, and you went to stand up. Going back to your room seemed like the thing to do, and you wanted to let him get back to sleep.

“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” His words halted you in your step, making you sit back on the bed where you’d been since arriving, minus the brief trip to the floor. “I usually don’t sleep after…”

“Nightmares?” Your soft question had him giving a small dip of his head, slightly embarrassed. “I get 'em, too. Not usually so much as lately, but I get 'em.”

And when he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, you had no longing to go back to bed. You’d stay up the rest of the night with this man to ensure he didn’t let go of you. It was here that you decided he could touch you for a reason, and you weren’t going to let it go to waste.

Tags: open

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett smut #logan wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x oc #oc #x men #logan x reader

106 notes · View notes

dunbonnets · 6 months ago

Text

Kaldur: On the count of three—

Sarah: Are you saying GO in the end? Because if that's the case it's after GO, not three.

Zakaria: Damn it, Sarah! Now is not the time for this!

Sarah: Look, I have to know when to be ready!

Yue: Uh, I'd also like to know if there's a GO in the end...

Zakaria: *pinches her nose and sighs*

13 notes · View notes

boujiestpoet · 2 months ago

Text

STARCROSSED ( Charles Leclerc x Oc)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

Summary: It really takes a village pt1

FACECLAIM: The extraordinary Tems

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE BEHAVIOUR OF THE CHARACTERS DOES NOT REFLECT THE REAL PERSONALITIES OF THE INDIVIDUAL UPON WHOM THEY ARE BASED. I AM MERELY BORROWING THEIR PHYSICAL LIKENESS AND THE PROFESSION THEY HAVE FOR THE SAKE OF THIS NARRATIVE

TW: Cringiness from the writer, grammatical errors (have mercy english is my semi firsr language)

Monte Carlo, Monaco

It was a quiet night, the sky an inky velvet blanket shined with stars, the streets nearly deserted. The gentle hum of the sea lapping against the harbor could barely be heard through the open window of Charles Leclerc’s apartment. Charles was slumped on his couch, and his mother Pascale sat beside him, she was the only anchor of peace he had at the moment.

For a while they remained silent, the silence was not as comforting as it usually was.

Pascale knew her son, his way of thinking and problem solving, but clearly at the moment her son was feeling suffocated by his own thoughts.

“ Charles” her voice was soft, she placed her hand gently on his hand, rubbing in a slow comforting circle.

“ You don’t need to say anything, remember I’m always hear”

He raised his head, his eyes read and glossy. He blinked, taking in the familiar faces of his mother, he deeply exhaled he was finally safe at home.

“ Maman it hurts” he said, his voice almost inaudible “ I thought that she..” his voice shaked, the sentence trailing off as a fresh wave of pain hit him.

She continued to try to console the young man, looking at him with compassion. Charles’ eyes sparkled everytime when he was talking about Leah, everybody could see that the driver was in love. Obviously in all relationships there was some up and down, but with more time passed, more problems were showing up.

“ You really loved her didn’t you?” she asked

Charles softly nodded, “ I did……I thought we were something special and deep, we promised each other that we would be there for each other, in any situation"

“ Did you think she was the one Charles?” she asked, the room was silent one more time. She carefully stared at him, while he was trying to force words out of his mouth, but nothing came out, he didn’t have an answer.

“ It’s alright if you don’t know” shesaid, her voice filled with love.

Charles swallowed hard “ I really thought she was the one Maman” his voice was croaky “After all this I don’t know…. how can I ?” he rubbed his face confused

“ I still can’t believe, I didn’t expect it, yes I’ve busy….” he sighed “ her best friend’s boyfriend, how can she be the one I fell in love?” he said astonished.

“ Charles you loved her, of course you trusted her, but unfortunately sometimes the people we love the most are the one who hurt us”

Charles leaned into his mother’s embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, he didn’t say anything else for a long time.

"Do you think I’ll ever find someone who’s really… the one?" he asked eventually, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Pascale smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You will. But you don’t need to rush it, Charles. Love will come when it’s meant to. And when it does, you’ll know. Truly know."

Charles closed his eyes, letting her words settle into his heart, allowing himself the small comfort they brought. He didn’t have all the answers right now, and maybe that was okay.

Maybe healing didn’t come from having everything figured out, but from the quiet moments of support, the love that never wavered, even when everything else did.

..................................................................................

Can Money buy Forgiveness ?

By: Sarah Caldwell | Celebrity Insider

It looks like drama is brewing in the celebrity world once again! According to reports, since 5 a.m. this morning, a flurry of activity has been spotted outside actress Renée's house. Couriers have been seen going in and out, delivering flowers and lavish gifts, sparking speculation. An insider has apparently managed to get a scoop from one of the delivery drivers, who confirmed that the gifts are coming from none other than model Ben Fields.

For those not in the loop, Ben Fields allegedly cheated on Renée with her best friend, influencer Leah Dawn. The question on everyone's mind now: is Ben trying to win Renée back after his betrayal? Only time will tell if these grand gestures are enough to heal the damage caused by the scandalous affair.

Stay tuned for updates!

AN: She's back with another one. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS NEW CHAPTER. How do you feel about real life and social media being in one chapter. Advice is welcome just be nice.

#black!reader #f1 smau #f1 x black!reader #black!oc #f1 x reader #smau #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #f1 fanfic

72 notes · View notes

redladydeath · 16 days ago

Text

Imagining Vox teaching Ondine how to hypnotize people is just the cutest thing to me. He's trying to explain these abstract mental concepts to an eight-year-old. She doesn't fully understand that what they're doing is wrong; she just likes spending time with her dad. Vox is literally glowing with pride whenever she manages to do it right. They might sing together since that's how Ondine's powers work. Adorable evil daddy-daughter bonding is killing me.

Gonna pull a Proto Vox post and put all my "Vox's kids die as children and reunite with him in Hell" stuff here so the reblog chain doesn't get too long. All the prompts included are from @storm-ismyusername.

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death until he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went a decade without anything going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation? How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year? Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them? Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived, but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to care of children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order regarding them. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone– very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite lifestyle they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend some time together, and then all curl up in their shared bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, with Alastor being something akin to a weird but fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears vengeance on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims his title as the Overlord of Television.

—

Lowkey enamored with the idea of struggling single dad Vox. Have some miscellaneous ideas:

Vox doesn't have a functional mouth yet, so the kids are the only ones who have to eat. He tries to figure out if he can use his electricity to cook/heat up food.

He's at work all day, so Thomas and Sarah are stuck alone in the apartment with very little to do. Thomas teaches Sarah to read up to a 6th-grade level. They might have a radio to keep them entertained. Whenever Alastor's doing his "screams of dying overlords" broadcasts, they're supposed to shut it off.

Vox has to rediscover some long-forgotten sewing knowledge since the kids need clothes that aren't falling apart.

When he's around, he'll play things on his screen for them as a form of entertainment. It's sort of like making up a story on the spot since Hell doesn't have any television broadcasts for him to tap into yet.

It's always a treat when they're able to go out as a family, usually for dinner. Vox feels bad that he can't provide them with anything nicer than fast food, but the kids are just thrilled to be out of the apartment, eating something "good," and spending time with him.

Due to cabin fever, the kids are much more rambunctious than they were when they were alive.

Vox is trying to decide whether he should let them acclimatize to Hell or continue treating them like human children.

Once Alastor enters their life, Sarah adores him (that is, after she gets over his initial creepiness).

Sometimes the kids will ask Vox why he pours all his time and money into building a television from scratch (and why it has to take up so much of their precious floor space). He tells them florid stories about how, once it's finished, it'll make them the richest sinners in Hell. Thomas helps him with it sometimes.

The kids' chosen sinner names change every other day.

Vox has a whole system worked out to make sure the kids have the building's communal bathroom all to themselves in the mornings (i.e., just play lookout and hypnotize anyone who tries to enter into walking away).

Tom and Sarah have devised some sort of cockroach/bug-killing game during their days stuck in the apartment.

Vox struggles to come to terms with the fact that his children are never going to grow up. They're going to be 11/12 and 8/9 forever, the same way he'll eternally be just a week away from his 38th birthday.

He's pissed at God/Lucifer/whoever for letting this happen. What could children possibly have done to deserve Hell?

Exterminations are difficult. Vox used to be able to just hide in the electrical grid and wait it out, but now he's got two small children who can't dematerialize like he can.

Sarah has nightmares about losing her dad again, for good this time. The trauma of losing a parent isn't undone by getting said parent back.

Both kids actually feel like they know their father now. He's no longer this distant figure in their lives who only emerges to give them expensive gifts, show them off at parties, tell Tommy he's not doing [whatever] right, and get in screaming matches with their mom. Vox isn't a great dad, but at least he's trying now, and that goes a long way in Thomas and Sarah's eyes.

—

Made Vox's apartment in the Sims

—

Nice touch that the toys are made of paper, something Sarah & Thomas probably made themselves (with a little help from Vox) since I can't imagine there's a huge (children's) toy industry in Hell. A bat on the wall in case of break ins. Various stains. AC. The TV Vox is working on. The bed looks bigger than I imagined, but I guess Sims did have too many options. A bucket of toiletries in the corner to take with them on their trips to the communal restroom. A box full of (all of their) clothes. Two pairs of shoes (presumably Sarah & Thomas'). Oh it looks like Vox managed to find a stuffed rabbit plus for Sarah! Where did he find that? Did he make it himself? An ironing board (makes sense). A small closet with a mirror. A calendar. And a power box (considering Vox's abilities it makes sense to have one near)!

They either got the bunny from a store catering to Hellborn children or made it themselves (Vox is rapidly relearning how to sew, and Sarah has a bit of sewing knowledge from her home ec classes). Vox's income usually goes towards only two things– keeping the three of them alive and building the TV– but occasionally, the shame of barely being able to provide his kids with anything gets the better of him and he'll "splurge" on small gifts. Sarah was delighted with it; she'll take any comfort she can get in this place.

Regarding the bed, yeah, the Sims only has double, single, and toddler beds. It would need to be a decent size in order to fit all of them though. Sarah and Tom are child-sized, but Vox is seven feet tall and has a CRT for a head. If he didn't already have one, he would've needed to get his hands on a bigger bed unless he wanted to sleep on the floor.

It's funny, the Sims only has two options for calendars: a dog one that's a bit too cutesy to really fit the vibes of this place, and a "Sims in uniform" one. Before the kids showed up, Vox's calendar having a bunch of succubi in sexy costumes wasn't an issue, but now that they are here, that thing's going in the trash... until Vox realizes how hard it is to find non-risque calendars in Hell.

—

I can totally see Sarah (& maybe Thomas) calling Alastor “Uncle Alastor”. Would they call Rosie “Auntie Rosie”?

Vox has them call him "Mister Alastor." Regardless of how emotionally invested Vox is in their relationship, he's very afraid of coming across as overly attached and scaring Al off. Having his kids refer to Alastor as family feels wrong, so having them keep things respectful, yet formal seems like the better option. Rosie would definitely tell them to call her "Auntie" if she ever met them, though.

I wonder what nice things Alastor would do for the kids? Do you think they sometimes appear on Alastor’s radio show? Oh now I’m picturing Alastor and Sarah singing “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile”! Soooo Cute!!! Maybe that’s how they find out about Sarah’s Siren abilities?

Depends on if Alastor does shows that aren't just live audio of overlords being murdered. If he does, then I can see Vox offering to lend him a hand with it and Alastor, in return, telling him he can bring his kids along. From there, yeah, it'd be absolutely adorable if Alastor put Sarah on a stool to reach the mic and sang a song with her ("Never Fully Dressed" wasn't written until 1976 but shhhh).

Would Vox ever give the details of his and Alastor’s falling out? (Though I think Sarah & Thomas would eventually connect the dots.) It would be funny if Alastor was still super nice to the kids even though he and Vox are rivals.

No, I don't think Vox would ever elaborate. Explaining it to the kids would require him to reflect on why it went wrong to begin with, so he just... never does. Alastor remains respectful and friendly if he ever runs into the kids again, but those occasions would be few and VERY far between, given how possessive/protective Vox is of them.

Vox being a good dad to his kids is so sweet!! Nothing brings people together like shared misery!! I can see a cute bonding moment where Vox teaches Sarah how to tap dance (since his leg is fine now).

Oh, no, Vox is never teaching either of his kids how to dance. Singing, piano, stage presence, maybe, but never tap dance.

—

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 4-Your Dad scooping you up and locking you into a fish tank for decades. 5-Valentino

It's... weird when Valentino enters Vox's life. They hit it off immediately, and as time goes on, Vox wants to incorporate Val into more aspects of his life. The kids throw a spanner in the works, though. Messing with children is the one line Valentino won't cross, but he's still not exactly the type of person you want around your kids. Vox can only listen to his better angels for so long, though. The two of them make a deal where Val agrees never to do anything to harm Vox's kids in exchange for [something], and Vox introduces them (he's lowkey planning on moving in with Val eventually, so they might as well get it out of the way instead of springing it on them).

Val's charming and fun when he first meets Fineas and Ondine, but it doesn't take long for them to realize he's not a good guy. Those misgivings solidify once the tower is built and they all move in together. Vox works hard to keep his kids as sheltered as possible, but it's hard to keep certain things on the down low once you're all living together. It's a lot to come to terms with– realizing that not only is your dad in a relationship with another man but said man is a violent, sexually exploitative monster who's constantly breaking up and then getting back together with him. Val's generally decent with the kids, but he's still this uncomfortable, looming presence in their afterlives. They wish Vox could've just stayed friends with Alastor instead; he was kinda scary, too, but they'd definitely prefer him as a "step-dad" over Valentino.

Would they stay mentally children or be mentally adults in children’s bodies? I honestly don’t know which is worse. (I do think the former’s more interesting though.)

Sort of an in between. They're eternally stuck as children maturity-wise, but they have decades of new experiences continuously being layered over that stunted baseline. Sinner children generally come across as kind of unsettling in a vague, undefinable way. They're clearly still kids, but there's something about them that's just... off.

What do they think of Vark? The metal image of child Sarah and Thomas riding Vark like a horse will not leave me.

Ondine loves Vark (and all of Vox's other sharks). Fineas is scared of him but tries to act tough about it. This is why Ondine is the favorite /j

If Sarah still discovers her Siren powers would Vox still try to find a way to capitalize it? Now I’m thinking of Vox forcing Thomas, Velvette, Valentino, and maybe his employees to watch Sarah sing and to clap every time.

Depends on how skittish Vox is about putting his kids in the public eye in this scenario. He wants his family to become sinner aristocracy, but literally broadcasting your weak point to all your rivals isn't exactly a good idea. If he decides to throw caution to the winds (and can compartmentalize his own childhood trauma), I can see him putting them in his shows. Sinner children are fairly rare, so if a piece of media needs kid characters, their only options are Hellborn kids or sinners who look like children for one reason or another. If Vox decides to keep them cloistered, then yeah, mandatory "watch the CEO's daughter sing" meeting at 3:00. Everyone's docile and spaced out afterwards, but that's a bonus! (at least, Vox says it is)

I can see a scenario where Valentino is screaming at the kids and Vox attacking Val to protect his kids, or in general calling out Val & Vel anytime he sees them treat his kids poorly.

Val and Vel know better than to do anything to threaten Vox's kids, although, yeah, there are probably some times when they snap at them and then get into arguments with Vox. Not a good time for Ondine, give how conflict adverse she is. Hearing her dad raise his voice at all always evokes a fear response in her. Bad memories.

How often would Sarah and Thomas be allowed to be kids? To be silly and goofy and have fun? (I’m assuming not often.)

They're not really able to do anything but be kids once Vox has the means for them to live comfortably. They're never going to grow up, both physically and mentally, and Vox doesn't really push them to act like adults. It's not quite a "Claudia from IWTV" situation, since any frustration would stem from being stuck doing the same thing for decades rather than not being able to age, but there's elements of that.

How much would Vox try to hide the more inappropriate stuff from his kids? How long until you think he gives up?

Vox tried to keep them pretty thoroughly sheltered during the first decade or two, but yeah, eventually he resigns himself to the fact that this is just how Hell is. He doesn't let Val flaunt his sex stuff in front of them, but if someone swears in their presence, he's not going to reprimand them (unless they're an employee and he's feeling petty).

Do you think Vox would import cartoons, books, and toys from Earth for them?

He can't import physical objects from Earth, but he can replicate them as best he can based on the Earthly broadcasts and descriptions from newly arrived sinners. There's probably at least one VoxTek employee locked up in a sweatshop somewhere who's stuck building toys for their contract-holder's children.

Would Vox bother with giving them a proper education?

To the best of his ability. Vox was actually "homeschooled" back when he was touring with his parents, although in reality, his education was put on the back burner, and once he finally started attending real school at age ten, he was reading at about a first grade level. During that first decade in Hell, he'd try to teach Sarah and Thomas things here and there, but he didn't really have the time to commit to it. Thomas ended up teaching Sarah a lot of stuff during those days stuck in the apartment, but given how he died at age 11-12, they only got so far. Once Vox hit it big though, yeah, he was definitely hiring tutors to finish their education. In 2024, Ondine and Fineas are better educated than most adults, despite being eternally stuck at ages 8-9 and 11-12. Sort of adds to their uncanny vibes, despite how cute they appear.

Once Vox becomes an Overlord do you think he buys/customizes a robofizz to act as the kids nanny/bodyguard? What would the kids name them?

Oh yeah, totally. The kids have non-synthetic tutors/nannies/bodyguards, but it gives Vox some peace of mind to have one who he knows he can "trust"/control completely. The kids might name it "Sparky," after their dog, but "Claudia" would also be fun, just for the reference.

...or fucking renesmee. ondine would be behind that.

Possible reasons Sarah & Thomas are in Hell: 1-They’re mother (& father) told them to keep silent to certain illegal things she(/he) does, so they’re technically accomplices. 2-Partially responsible for the death of someone, which could count as manslaughter. 3-Accidentally ate human flesh, cannibalism. 4-Killed a puppy by accident, puppy killing’s pretty evil.

Sdfghgfdfg. I can see Thomas accidentally shooting an animal with a BB gun (or doing it on a dare from his friends). Right now, I'm leaning towards Hell working on The Good Place rules, where your destiny depends on the net impact you had on the world. Poor Tommy and Sarah got sent to Hell just for being rich, privileged, White children from the 1950s who had bad parents.

Man, Exterminations must have been terrifying. I can imagine them huddled in the corner together, hearing the screams of Sinners and hoping they aren’t next. Does Vox try to explain the Exterminations to them? How would Sarah & Thomas react to finding out Angels come down to murder everyone each year? Such a contrast to what they were taught Angels were like.

Definitely. It was so much worse back before Vox had the resources to build an Extermination bunker. Vox can go incorporeal, but the kids can't, so he had to find hiding places for the three of them that weren't already taken up by other sinners. Thomas and Sarah probably watched their dad kill at least one person permakilled by hypnotizing them into giving up their spot and walking into the onslaught. Once Vox becomes an overlord, it's less stressful, but it never stops being scary. Sarah especially struggled with the idea that angels can be cruel; the Oxrights were your typical church-going 1950s family, and Sarah used to draw a lot of comfort from religion, particularly after Vox died.

—

Now I need an in depth view on Sarah’s newly broken view on Angels. If she had a chance to talk to an Angel, what would she say to them? I want to see Sarah interact with all the Angels in the now (Sera, Emily, Lucifer, Vaggie, Lute, Adam, etc.). I need to lock Ondine & Sera in a room together so Ondine can ask Sera how she can slaughter thousands yearly? What would Sera’s reaction be? How would Sarah react to Adam, the first man, is the leader of the Exorcists and is all around a terrible piece of garbage? How would Sarah react to realizing Lucifer, The Devil, is actually kinda nice (or at least a more pleasant person to be around than Adam)?

By the time Ondine and Fineas would have an opportunity to meet most of those characters, they've been in Hell for 65 years, so the idea that demons can be kind and angels can be cruel has had plenty of time to settle. Sera probably wouldn't handle having a sinner child questioning her morals very well. She'd most likely react in a similar way as she did when Emily discovered the truth, insisting that she was only doing what she had to. The fact that Sera and Sarah have nearly the same name is making things even more uncomfortable.

For some reason child Sarah and Thomas meeting Lucifer sound hilarious, how do you think that would go down? Would they even believe he’s The Devil? It would be extra funny if Lucifer’s great with kids and they get along swimmingly. “He's pissed at God/Lucifer/whoever for letting this happen. What could children have possibly done to deserve Hell?” When Lucifer visits the Hotel would Vox scream at him why his 9 & 12 year old kids were sent to Hell? (If he recognizes him as Lucifer) How would Lucifer react? (Or would Vox do that to Charlie when he realizes she’s The Princess of Hell? Charlie would probably be in tears afterwards)

If Lucifer and Charlie were ever confronted with the "Why are children able to be sent to Hell?" question, they wouldn't take it well. Lucifer tries to defer responsibility, saying that it's not within his control: he doesn't decide who does and doesn't get into Hell... but it is still his kingdom, and he's chosen to stick his head in the sand instead of doing anything to help his most vulnerable "subjects." Charlie, yeah, she'd be devastated realizing kids can be sent to Hell for no clear reason and no one has tried to do anything about it.

–

Mental image that refuses to leave me: Vox walking in on Fineas about to shoot an apple off his terrified assistant’s head as Ondine watches apprehensively. He takes the bow and arrow from Fineas, scolding him… and then hands him a crossbow instead. Way more fun that way.

–

The kids are kind of afraid of Valentino, but they think Velvette is the coolest person in Hell. Ondine likes to follow her around like a shadow whenever she's working on her fashion lines, and Fineas maybe sorta kinda has a tiny little crush on her. Velvette hates children, but she can't tell them to fuck off unless she wants to get into an unnecessary fight with Vox, so she has to tolerate them when they try to interact with her.

–

How much has Sarah and Thomas' morals decayed? How much empathy can they show to a regular Sinner? Do they still see regular Sinners as people and not toys or pets?

It's weird. Vox has been encouraging them to dehumanize those under contract with him+the other Vees for decades; they signed up to work for them, so of course the kids should be allowed to do whatever they want to them. Since they died so young, Fineas and Ondine's morals are malleable, plus they both want their dad's approval, so they just... do as he says.

Ondine doesn't enjoy hurting people, but she can still be a bit of a handful in this verse. If she wants to play dress up with random tower employees that day, well, they have no choice but to drop everything and be her dolls until she moves onto something else. She'll also occasionally use her siren powers to make people do silly things (Vox loves it when she does this; he's been teaching her to hone her hypnotic abilities for years and is always so proud when she manages to successfully bend someone to her will). It comes from a place of genuine playfulness rather than malice, but that's cold comfort to the people she's messing with.

Fineas has much lower empathy than his sister and is far less squeamish. If he wants to play a game that could end in someone getting seriously injured, he does it; if he's in the room when one of the Vees is mauling an employee, it doesn't faze him. The fact that these are people, not toys, doesn't really register to him because, well, his dad said it was okay for him to do this, so what's the big deal?

If Charlie could get them away from Vox, she could probably teach them that just because you can treat people like rag dolls doesn't mean that you should, and that a person's feelings aren't automatically less important just because they sold their soul. They're not bad kids at heart; they're just children who've been taught to be careless with people because their dad gets a kick out of it.

"The kids are kind of afraid of Valentino, but they both think that Velvette is the coolest person in Hell." This is so cute!! Does Sarah get into fashion design?

As much as she can. She's only 8 or 9, so she doesn't really have the attention span/ability to commit to it, but she thinks it's fun. Velvette might end up actually spending some time with her because Ondine came up to her with a notebook full of drawings and Vel decides that picking apart this third grader's doodles was a good use of her time. She's not nice about it, but eventually it turns into more of a critique than simple roasting since Ondine won't leave until she's looked at all of them.

–

When video games arrive in Hell, Fineas— as you would expect from an eleven-year-old boy— is enamored. If you play online games in Hell, there’s probably been at least one time when you’ve heard a pre-pubescent boy’s voice in VC, spouting the most obscene series of curse words you’ve ever heard in both English and Spanish. He has all the rarest gear in the game and will threaten to have his dad send snipers to your location if you grief him.

#in the verse where the kids are young adults she never really gets a handle on it since manipulating people's minds makes her uncomfortable #but all little sarah knows is that her dad says it's okay and is really happy when she does it #so why not! she likes practicing with him anyway!#oc posting

38 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 2 years ago

Text

gif by @manny-jacinto

Baby Blue - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

Joel loses a bet to Ellie and is forced to chaperone a dance in Jackson. He might not mind it as much when he sees that their pretty neighbor is also chaperoning.

warnings | 18+ light on the angst, heavy on fluff, SMUT

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Sweetness, it's just fun either way :)

..................

Joel lost a bet. He had taken Ellie out to practice her shooting, lining up old cans as targets. She was getting a little too cocky about her aim, so he had upped the ante, moving the still-standing cans a few more yards away, stacking them in a pyramid.

“If you’re so good, kid, I’d like to see you hit just that top can there.” He pointed out to the can on top of the stack. Ellie scoffed.

“Easy. You don’t think I can do it, old man?” He just shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. Ellie was grinning.

“Do you bet I can’t do it?” She had caught him that day in a half-decent mood, so for once, he was game to play along.

“What’s your wager, kid?” She thought for a moment, before her eyes lit up wildly and she fixed him with a grin. Joel was suddenly a lot less interested in playing along.

“If I hit that can, you gotta sign up to chaperone the dance they’re throwing next week.” Joel actually groaned at that. When he had heard from Maria about their plan to host a makeshift prom for all the high-school-aged kids in the town, Joel had thought to himself that there might not be anything he missed less than the concept of a bunch of hormonal teenagers nervously fucking around in a humid gymnasium for a whole night. He had chaperoned one dance before, Sarah’s first and only homecoming, and his heart seized at the memory of how he almost blew a gasket watching Matthew Brown getting a little too handsy with his daughter. Needless to say, when they had asked at the next town meeting for adults to volunteer to chaperone, Joel had not offered his services up.

“Ellie, there’s gotta be something else. I’m not going anywhere near that dance.”

“Well if you’re so sure I’m gonna miss, what’s it matter anyways?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And if you miss, what do I get?”

“If I miss, I’ll stop bugging you about your very obvious crush on our neighbor.” Ellie hadn’t let up about the young woman next door, not since Joel’s fake birthday when she had helped Ellie bake that cake for him. What the girl didn’t know was that the pair had shared a kiss that night, but since then, Joel had been hopeless. He’d greet her whenever he saw her around, and they’d exchange a few nice words, but everytime he talked to her his brain went fuzzy with the memory of that night, and he’d yet to “make a move” as Ellie had been goading him to do ever since.

“Alright, kid. Let’s see what you got I guess.” They shook on it. Joel wasn’t really worried about it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could make that shot, and if it meant getting Ellie off his back about their pretty neighbor, he was game.

He had sorely underestimated the kid, which was why he found himself in the old Jackson rec center gymnasium on a Saturday night, watching a bunch of puberty-ridden children of the apocalypse dance with each other to old cassette tapes from the eighties. This certainly hadn’t been on his end-of-the-world bingo sheet.

He leaned back against the cement wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ellie until he found her awkwardly dancing with Dina. At least he didn’t have to worry about Matthew Brown tonight. It was mostly other women chaperoning, and they had all given him weird looks when he came to volunteer. He had thought to himself that next time, he’d move the cans a lot further away.

But then he saw her on the other side of the gym, his lovely neighbor in an equally lovely light blue dress. The dress itself wasn’t anything special, a short-sleeved thing that fell at her shins, but on her, Joel reckoned it was still the prettiest thing he’d seen in at least the last twenty years. Her eyes met his from across the gym and she smiled brightly, already walking over towards him as Joel’s brain began to blare the oh shit alarm. She sidled up next to him, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Joel Miller, can’t say I was expecting to see you here. You lose a bet or something?” His eyes went wide as he looked at her. She just laughed.

“Sorry, I had to. Ellie told me.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“That kid is gonna be the death of me.” She shrugged, offering him a grin.

“She’s certainly a spitfire, that one. You know, she always asks me if I’ve talked to you lately, always telling me that you’d like to see me.” Joel felt absolutely mortified, his eyes sweeping anywhere but towards her to hide his embarrassment. He caught Ellie’s gaze out of the crowd, and the girl looked so smug he’d like to dissolve into nothing on the spot. That damn kid. He shook his head, turning his attention back to his neighbor and trying to pull himself together. He cleared his throat.

“You, um, you look real nice.” Her smile started to ease the panicky feeling in his chest. She lightly swayed the skirt of her dress.

“Traded some of the tomatoes I’ve been growing this summer for it. Certainly not the same as what I wore to my own prom, but I guess it works for a chaperone.” He offered her a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember much of your own prom?” She laughed.

“Oh yeah. I wore this awful shiny purple dress and had matching butterfly clips in my hair. My date’s cufflink actually got stuck in one when he tried to pull a move in the back of the limo we rented, nearly scalped me he yanked so hard.” Joel couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that.

“Sounds memorable. I take it your date didn’t get too far in, uh, making his move?” She just let out a low whistle, shaking her head and swaying into his side again.

“What about you? Do you remember your prom?” He sighed, altogether liking the feeling of her shoulder continuing to brush into his too much.

“Hmm, I think mine was a little before your time. To be honest I don’t think we even made it to the dance, just ended up, uh, parking.” He blushed furiously as he got the words out, instantly regretting it. She just hummed.

“Wow, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy, Miller. I’m scandalized.” He could see by the smile threatening to creep onto her face that she was kidding.

“Did you at least wear a suit?” He scoffed.

“Of course. Gotta wear a suit to prom. I wasn’t that much of a heathen.” She quirked her brow at him.

“What color?”

“Blue.” “Navy?”

“Uh, not quite.”

“Like a royal blue then?” Joel just sighed, his shoes suddenly very interesting to him.

“No. You’re not telling me you wore a baby blue suit to prom are you?” He huffed.

“It was the 80s, alright? Everyone was wearing them, thought it was cool.” Her laugh was big and bubbling, eyes crinkling up as she looked at him in disbelief. She finally caught herself, resting her hand on his bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I just– never in a million years would I have pictured you in a baby blue suit and now I’m probably gonna be imagining it until the day I die.” He shook his head, not able to fight the smile breaking out at her delight in teasing him. He willed her to keep her hand on his arm, and she did, curling her fingers lightly and letting out a sigh.

“Laugh all you want, but my date thought I looked good that night.” She hummed, tilting her head up at him.

“I’ll buy that. But you look pretty good tonight too.” He choked on an inhale. He knew her flirting was entirely gratuitous, all he had on was a button down and jeans, the same thing he wore everyday. She leaned into his side.

“Whaddaya say, Miller. Will you be my prom date?” He let out a breathy laugh, feeling the blush creeping up his neck again. Maybe it was the sound of “the Cure” fizzing in the background, or the dizzy feeling he was getting watching the swish of the hem of her dress around her bare legs, but Joel finally decided to go for it. He tilted his head down to catch her gaze, a wry smile cracking across his face.

“I’m flattered, darlin. Thought you’d never ask.” The grin she gave him was her brightest yet, and Joel felt like he was melting on the spot.

They spent a while like that, leaning into each other against the back wall and snickering about nothing, lobbing flirtations back and forth. One of the other chaperones stopped by and slipped her a flask that they started passing between them, warmth quickly settling into both their features. Joel hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time, with her arm slung around his shoulders like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed resting her cheek on his arm as he glanced down at her.

“You know, even after he yanked my hair, my date still tried to make another move.” Joel scoffed but she just nodded.

“Mmhmm, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom, tried to get me to give him a handjob, pfft. I smacked him in the face and left right then and there, had to call my mom to come get me.” She laughed, but Joel wasn’t finding anything funny about it. Even though it had been at least two decades ago, and whoever this punk was had probably long been turned into a walking mushroom, Joel still briefly felt a twinge in his chest that he’d like to knock the guy’s lights out. He felt ridiculous, instead drawing his attention back to her and tentatively letting his hand wrap around her waist.

“That’s a really shitty prom memory.” And then, his tongue loosened by whatever they had been swigging from that flask, he said something way too bold.

“You wanna make a better one?” Her fingers stilled where they had been lightly playing with his shirt collar. She was just as shocked as him at his words, but she quickly caught herself, melting back into a smile.

“Well, depends who I’m making it with.” Joel was already slipping his hand into hers and turning heel to tug her along behind him out of the gym and into the hallway. Her breathy laugh of his name made his heart kick inside his chest. He was startled however, once they got out into the empty hall as she pulled him back towards her, tripping over his feet until they crashed together in a kiss. His hands quickly found purchase on her waist as she tugged him down by the hair at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the low groan that thrummed through his throat when she licked into his mouth. She pulled back with a wet click of spit, taking a big gasp of air. Joel’s knees felt weak at the sight of her, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving in her pretty blue dress.

They were interrupted however, by the sound of chatter spilling out of the gym and into the hall. Joel’s eyes landed on another door, pulling her behind him and into what must have once been a supply closet. Luckily, when he flipped the lightswitch it worked, and they were back on each other in an instant, a tangle of tongues that was admittedly taking him right back to his highschool years. He walked her back until she was pressed up against the door, their hips slotting together, seeking more however they could get it. Her hands were grazing up and down his chest, sliding along the waist of his jeans in a way that was making him feel dizzy. His palms started to wander as well, from her waist down to the swell of her thighs, making her gasp when he squeezed the softness there before dipping around to her ass and he thought to himself that she was perfect in his hands.

He was snapped out of the swimming reverie that was kissing her when he felt her fingers starting to work at his belt buckle. He was quick to take both her wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the door. She huffed at him and he could only breathily laugh at her frustrated expression

“Nuh-uh, darlin. This one’s gonna be all you, alright?” She smiled, her head lolled to one shoulder.

“We gonna go parking after this, prom date?” Joel grinned, already kneeling down in front of her.

“Something like that.” While he may have felt like he was back in highschool, he still had his very-much-not-teenaged knees and back to deal with and he was feeling it as he got down on the floor in front of her. He figured the pain would be worth it.

His palms gently curled around her ankles, skimming up along her calves and the backs of her thighs as he rucked up her dress along with him. Her breath hitched when his hands squeezed at her hips, not taking her eyes away from his as he thumbed at the band of her underwear.

“Is this ok?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He gave her hips a harsh squeeze that made her gasp.

“Need you to tell me, darlin, please.” She drew one of her hands to card through his hair, tugging lightly at the scalp to get him to tilt his head up towards her. Her eyes were blown wide, and she squirmed in his grip. Joel felt like his head was going to explode just looking at her.

“It’s good, Joel. I want it, want you, please.” It was all he needed to hear, laying an open-mouthed kiss to the top of one of her thighs before sliding her underwear down her legs and helping her step out of them on wobbly feet. He drew the hem of her dress back up and she seemed to get the hint, bunching it up in one fist to keep it out of the way for him. He let his mouth wander up the plush inside of her thigh, breath grazing over her cunt in a way that made her shiver in his grasp. When he dipped away, however, trailing down her other leg, she breathed out a long whine. At that, he let his teeth graze her skin, nipping just a bit unkindly at the softness.

“Patience, prom queen, I’m getting there.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I’m prom queen now?” She went to say something smart, but was cut off with a broken gasp when he finally dragged his tongue through her folds.

“I’d sure give you the crown, darlin.” With that, he dipped back into her heat, drawing his tongue up from her fluttering entrance to her clit and swiping over the bundle of nerves there. He could feel her thighs shaking where his rough palms were splayed, and he drew her one leg by the back of her knee over his shoulder to open her up even more to him. She keened into his mouth, sighing out soft curses mixed with his name as he worked her over. It wasn’t lost on Joel that it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, but judging from the way she was tugging on his hair and canting her hips into him he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Fuck, Joel– want m-more– please– need more.” He rested his cheek on the swell of her thigh, bringing a hand up and slipping two of his fingers into her tight heat. The moan she let out was more of a cry at that, and Joel’s head went swimmy again at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

“Want you to come for me, darlin. I know you can. You wanna come for me?” She nodded frantically at his goading words, and Joel dipped his face back between her legs to lick harsh stripes against her clit as his fingers continued to steadily pump her. He came up for air for a moment, watching her face scrunched in pleasure above him, the sight made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Please, baby, come for me. Just let go, pretty.” It was all it took to send her over the edge, her hips jerking in his grip and her cunt pulsing around his fingers as he fucked her through it. She let out a few warbly gasps of his name, tugging his hair to get him to stop working her over through the sensitivity. He finally pulled away and she hissed as he helped her get her foot back on the ground, slumping back against the door and gazing down at him with a hazy smile, her dress fluttering back down around her legs. Joel stood with a groan, his knees screaming in protest but he was quickly distracted by her pulling him in by his collar for a stomach-churning kiss. She pulled away with a gasp, eyes searching his.

“Joel, wanna feel you please. Want you to fuck me.” He groaned at that, dipping his forehead to rest on her shoulder and shaking his head lightly. She stilled in his grasp, and when he looked up at her again, a worried look had settled over her face. He couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that rumbled in his chest, that this woman standing before him actually wanted him that much. The furrow between her brow deepened, but he was quick to lay a kiss there, stroking the arc of her cheek with his thumb.

“I want you too– believe me. But I’ll be damned if the first time I have you is in a fucking supply closet.” She let out a wild laugh at that, her eyes crinkling up as she looked at him and a warmth melted through Joel’s chest at the sound.

“You know, I thought you were kidding about the whole parking thing.” Joel grunted, stealing another kiss from her before guiding her out of the closet.

“Fuck parking, I’m gonna take you home, darlin, if that’s alright with you?” They were already walking out of the gym but she still squeezed his hand and shot him a wicked grin.

“Sounds good, prom date, lead the way.”

When one of the chaperones checked the door that had been left ajar, they were only slightly horrified to find a pair of panties strewn on the supply closet floor.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

990 notes · View notes