#task: message please survive

[volivolition]

reading the "after the mind, the world again" ttrpg rulebook and im in love with it

my god i am so affectionate towards them. but MAN this is so fucking cool i wish i wasnt a scared little guy so i could play ttrpgs hkjhd...

[volivolition]

HI HELLO first time doing this!! most of my filenames are the titles though (so i dont forget them later lmao), so i'll also just offer the shorthand titles that are easier to say :>

Unstoppable Force Kisses the Immovable Object (Unstoppable Force)

Swept Up in the Feeling (Swept Up)

Let's Make It (a) Home (Make It Home)

Meet the Parts that Make You (Meet the Parts)

Message to All Bitches: Please Survive (Message Please Survive)

Snippet from Swept Up! EMPATHY [Easy: Success] holds himself, grips his shoulders hard, glowing silver leaking down his cheeks in tandem with the witness – There's tears brimming in her eyes. Her heart isn’t in the conversation; she left it in her son's casket. There's a home she's supposed to go back to. You know what it’s like to never get to go home, Harry, to feel like you’ve lost it all. 

AUTHORITY scoffs, but his hands are faltering at the control panel – What is it about tough exterior don’t you get?

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Success] presses his lips into a hard line, staring straight forward unblinkingly – Don't cry. Don’t cry, we aren't going to *fucking*- Hey, can *someone* get Feels-A-Lot away from the helm before we go hysterical?

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] zips over, the rush making Empathy's cloud wisp away at the edges. It hastily takes his arm by the elbow and tugs him further away – Whup, c’mon then, Em, let's go, let's get you to the back...

EMPATHY continues to weep silently, but lets himself be led away – Hmn…

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know via ask!

@fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike

@obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979

@eriquin @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge

@whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @skyderman @adhdavinci

@owlbearwrites @anachronismstellar @anyctibius @rilannon @lazinesswrites

@zyrafowe-sny @dreaminghour @blue-eyedbeta @candyskiez @dreamerking27

@kalira @virgulesmith @i-want-delfeur @selkies-world @exceedinglygayotter

@oitreewrites @post-and-out @writingattheedge @qqaba @ykthefancyclamwiththepearlinside

@princescar @tigerdragon1001

[bellaveux]

Can you do a Natasha fic where the reader gets really sick while she's at work, and is kind of going through it with a rude boss, so she's just having a really rough day, but she never told Natasha because she's scared of confrontation. Anyway, the day she gets sick an employee calls Natasha while she's working at SHIELD to inform her that y/n threw up and isn't feeling well, so Natasha drops everything to go and pick her up. She takes care of her and the reader just gets really emotional and kinda breaks down, tells her everything going on and Natasha like HANDS IT TO y/ns boss? Thank you!

by your side | n. romanoff x fem!reader

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: you always put everything you had into your work, pushing yourself until the weight of the stress finally caught up with you. whenever it did, natasha was there to pick up the pieces.

content warnings: hurt/comfort, sick!fic, angst, protective!natasha, caring!natasha, reader gets exhausted (to the point it gets very concerning), very small hint of dark!natasha towards the end, an annoying man *eye roll*

word count: 9.8k

note: WHY IS THIS SO LONG IM SORRY

You worked at a bustling office in the heart of New York City, where the sound of phones ringing and keyboards clacking was a constant backdrop to your life. It was the kind of place that never really slowed down, no matter the time of day, and you were always at the heart of it, buried under a never-ending pile of deadlines and demands. Your boss, a man who thrived on intensity and pressure, never seemed to pause long enough to recognize the strain he put on his employees—especially you. To him, you were just another cog in the machine, a very dependable one, which means he pushed you harder than most.

The problem was, he never knew when to stop asking.

You never said no. You couldn’t. Not when your boss stood over your desk, throwing more work your way without a second thought, his voice always sharp, always urgent. “Can you handle this by end of day?” It wasn’t really a question, just an expectation, and you—too kind, too eager to please—would nod, even though your head was already pounding, even though your body was screaming for rest.

Day after day, it was the same routine: arriving at the office before anyone else, your steps heavy before you even crossed the threshold, often staying late into the evening, long after the sun had set and the streets outside had quieted. You ate lunch at your desk, if you remembered to eat at all, and even when you were home, your phone buzzed with emails and messages that you felt obligated to respond to.

Stress seeped into your bones, deeper with each passing week. It started small—just a lingering headache at first, or a faint wave of nausea that you could ignore. But soon, it became harder to push through. You’d stand up too quickly and feel the room spin at times. Your hands shook when you typed, your vision blurring at the edges. By the time you crawled into bed, exhaustion pulling at you, sleep never came easily. You’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, your mind still racing with the tasks you hadn’t completed yet.

Natasha noticed the changes first, the quiet ways your body betrayed you. The exhaustion was written all over your face, in the dark smudges beneath your eyes, in the slowness of your movements. You didn’t smile as easily, didn’t laugh as often. When you sat together, Natasha could feel the tension in you—how you would fidget, your hands restless, your mind clearly somewhere else. And the more it happened, the more Natasha’s concern grew.

She didn’t like how your job was stripping away your vitality, how the woman she loved seemed to be fading right before her eyes. Natasha had spent a lifetime learning how to take care of herself, how to survive under pressure, but watching you suffer was something she couldn’t just stand by and let happen.

A couple nights later, she entered the apartment quietly, the sound of her boots soft against the floor as she shrugged off her jacket. The space was unusually quiet. She couldn’t hear the usual shuffle of you in the kitchen, the faint hum of the TV or music playing in the background. Her instincts, honed from years of training, told her something was off.

The faint glow of light peeked out from under the door of the small office down the hallway. Natasha’s brow furrowed as she made her way toward it, her steps measured. Pushing the door open gently, she found you slumped over your desk, your laptop still open, a forgotten cup of coffee sitting cold beside you. You were asleep, your head resting on your arms, your body curled into the desk as if you had simply given up mid-task. The lines of exhaustion etched into your face were even more prominent now, your breathing soft but uneven. Natasha’s heart sank, a sigh leaving her lips. She took in the scene—the clutter of paperwork, the blinking cursor on the screen, the clock ticking far too late into the night.

You looked so small like this, your usual vibrant energy drained away. Natasha swallowed hard, a wave of guilt and protectiveness washing over her. She knew you were exhausted. She’d seen it in your eyes, heard it in the tired way you spoke lately.

Natasha crossed the room slowly, crouching down beside the chair. Gently, she reached out, her fingers brushing against your hair, moving a stray lock behind your ear. You stirred faintly, but didn’t wake, your body too tired to register the touch. Natasha sighed again, her chest tightening with frustration at your boss for running you into the ground, and at herself for not stepping in sooner.

She glanced at the laptop screen, at the endless emails and documents open, the work that never seemed to end. Her eyes narrowed, and she closed the laptop with a soft click, shutting off the pressure it represented. This wasn’t what you deserved—this never-ending cycle of work and stress, of pushing yourself until you broke.

"Baby?" Natasha whispered softly, her voice laced with concern.

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open slowly, disoriented and mumbling something under your breath. Her heart squeezed as she leaned in closer, her hand still caressing your hair.

“Let me take you to bed, detka,” she urged softly, her thumb brushing lightly across your temple.

You shifted slightly, mumbling incoherently, “I… I still… I need to finish some stuff first…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, slurred with exhaustion, but still that underlying thread of responsibility ran through it.

Natasha shook her head gently, her hand moving to rest on your shoulder. “No, no, you can finish it later,” she protested softly, but firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Your brow furrowed faintly in protest, but your eyelids were already drooping again, your body sagging further into the chair. “I… I’m almost done, I just…” you murmured again, your words fading as your head lolled slightly.

Natasha sighed, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. Even in your droopy state, you were stubborn. But she wouldn’t let you push yourself any further tonight.

“Come on, baby,” she whispered, slipping her arms beneath you to lift you from the chair. You barely protested then, your body limp in her hold, already too far gone to fight anymore.

As Natasha carried you toward the bedroom, your head nestled against her shoulder as she pressed a soft kiss to your hair before laying you down against the soft mattress and tucking you in under the blanket.

She hated it—hated every bit of seeing you like this. Over the past few weeks, she watched you grow more and more exhausted under the relentless weight of work. It gnawed at her, the way you seemed to fade a little more each day.

You were always so selfless, so willing to take on anything asked of you, and Natasha knew it. She admired your strength, your commitment, but this... this was too much. The late nights spent hunched over your laptop and the way you had started falling asleep at your desk almost every night—it was all wrong. It felt like your fire was being slowly extinguished, and Natasha couldn’t stand it.

She felt helpless, almost, watching her girlfriend work herself to the bone, all because she was too nice to say no. You were always the one giving—too much of yourself, Natasha realized now—and she didn’t know how to protect you from this. She could face any enemy, survive any mission, but seeing you like this, so drained and worn, was something she wasn’t prepared for. It stirred something fierce in her, this protective instinct that made her want to grab your boss by the collar and demand that they stop putting you through this. But that wasn’t how you operated. She knew you wouldn’t want that.

It was just one night later, when Natasha decided that all this would come to an end. She was lounging on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table as she absentmindedly flicked through the channels on the TV. It had been a quiet evening, the kind that felt rare and fleeting in her world. You were working late again, and Natasha had been expecting to see you walk through the door soon, your usual soft smile brightening up the apartment.

But instead, her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.

Natasha smiled to herself as she answered, but the tone of your voice wasn’t what she expected. There was a hesitance there, a weariness she could sense even before you spoke.

“Hey, Nat,” your voice was soft, almost sheepish, like you were hesitant to ask something. “Do you think… um, do you think you could pick me up from work? I’m just… too tired for the subway tonight.”

Natasha didn’t even need to hear the rest. Her heart clenched at the thought of you trying not to burden her. She sat up instantly, already swinging her legs off the couch as if she’d been waiting for this all evening.

“Yeah, baby, of course,” she said, her voice firm and warm, leaving no room for hesitation. “I’ll be there in soon.”

You let out a small sigh of relief on the other end, a sound so soft that Natasha could practically feel it. “Thanks, Nat. I’m sorry, I just—”

“Don’t apologize,” her reply was immediate, firm. She could hear the way your words trembled, how much it had probably taken for you to admit you needed help. That fact alone made her move even faster. “I’ll be there soon.”

As she hung up the phone, her eyes narrowed, determination settling in. It made her chest ache—you shouldn’t have to ask, shouldn’t have to feel shy about needing something as simple as a ride home.

She didn’t waste a second. Throwing on her jacket, Natasha grabbed her keys and headed straight for the door. She made it to her car in record time, sliding into the driver’s seat with focus before she sped out of the apartment building's parking lot, her grip tight on the wheel. The roads were clearer this late, and she took advantage of it, her foot pressing harder on the gas as she weaved between cars, the streetlights casting fleeting glows through the windows. All she could think about was getting to you. The thought of you standing outside your building, tired and alone, was enough to make Natasha’s stomach twist. You worked so hard, too hard, and the idea of you taking the subway, bone-tired and vulnerable, made Natasha’s blood race faster than the car.

It wasn’t long before Natasha pulled up in front of your building, her car coming to a halt with a smooth screech. She didn’t bother with parking neatly, didn’t care about anything except finding you. Her eyes scanned the entrance, and there you were—standing on the sidewalk, looking small and worn-out under the harsh glow of the streetlamp. Even from the distance, Natasha could see the way your shoulders slumped.

She jumped out of the car, her heart squeezing at the sight of her. “(Y/n),” she called softly, but with enough urgency that your head snapped up. Your tired eyes brightened just a bit when you saw her, and that was all it took for Natasha to feel a flood of warmth.

“Hey,” you said, your voice small as you walked toward her, your bag slung over one shoulder. You looked up at her with a shy smile, almost embarrassed, like you felt guilty for even asking. “You didn’t have to rush—”

“Don’t even,” Natasha interrupted, her tone firm but gentle. She stepped closer, her hand resting on your cheek for a moment, thumb brushing the dark circles under your eyes. “You look exhausted.”

Your lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It was a long day,” you admitted quietly, leaning into her touch.

She knew you well enough to see through that smile. You were faking it—putting on a brave front like you always did when you were too tired to admit how bad things were. Natasha didn’t say anything, though. Not yet at least, not wanting to put any more stress on your shoulders for the rest of the night. Instead, she carefully took your bag from your shoulder and guided you over to the car. Without another word, Natasha opened the passenger door for you, her eyes never leaving you as she gently guided you inside. As soon as you were settled, she rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, her hand instinctively reaching over to rest on your thigh. She kept her hand there, her thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles into your leg. The car was warm, comfortable, but the silence between them was filled with something soft, a quiet understanding. She drove fast, her usual controlled demeanor slipping a little in her urgency to get you home, to get you somewhere safe and warm.

As she drove, Natasha started speaking quietly, filling the silence with soft reassurances and a few stories about her own day—anything to lighten the mood, to keep you grounded. “You know, Fury was on my case about the paperwork again… I swear he thinks I’m made for office work. Can you imagine?”

She went on like that for a minute or two, just talking to keep you company, but when she glanced over at you, she saw you had already fallen asleep. Your head rested gently against the window, the faintest sound of your breathing filling the car. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight, and her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

Arriving back at the apartment, she parked the car, then gently placed her hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you awake.

“Baby, we’re home,” she whispered, her voice as soft as the late evening air.

You stirred, blinking up at her groggily, before mumbling something Natasha couldn’t quite make out. She smiled at the sight, though, feeling an ache of tenderness as your sleepy eyes met hers.

You made your way inside, Natasha holding your hand firmly as they walked through the building and into the elevator. In the quiet space, she leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your hand, then your cheek, trying to get a real smile from you. Your lips curved upward, but it was faint—Natasha could see the exhaustion still pulling you down.

Once you were inside the apartment, Natasha felt a strange sense of relief, thinking they were finally home, finally safe. You both kicked off your shoes near the door, and Natasha started to head toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water for you. But just as she turned away, she heard the unmistakable thud of you collapsing behind her.

“(Y/n)!” Natasha shouted, her voice thick with panic, rushing your side immediately. She managed to catch you just in time, pulling you into her arms, her heart racing. “God... what happened?”

Still dazed, you gave her a tired smile, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, Nat. Really… I just slipped... Got a little dizzy, that’s all.”

“You’re not fine, (Y/n). You almost passed out,” Natasha snapped, her frustration breaking through the concern. “I’ve been watching you every day, running yourself into the ground, and you just keep brushing it off like it’s nothing.”

You sighed, trying to keep your voice calm, though your exhaustion made you sound small and fragile. “I’m okay, Natasha. Really. I just need to sit for a minute. I’ll be fine.” You reached up and touched Natasha’s face gently, trying to reassure her, even if it was far from the truth.

But Natasha’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, she looked even more conflicted, torn between wanting to believe you and knowing deep down that something wasn’t right.

“I just... I just want you to be okay,” Natasha said quietly, her voice breaking a little, the concern clear in her eyes. She wanted to take care of you, to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too far, but you kept putting up walls—soft ones, sure, but walls nonetheless.

You smiled again, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I will be fine,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Natasha’s temple as if that could erase her worries.

Natasha swallowed hard, still unconvinced. “Can you please just... sleep earlier tonight? For me?”

You sighed and nodded softly, your hand stilling on her cheek, “Okay. I will.”

That night, you actually followed through. You did something you hadn’t done in a long time—you went to bed early, just like Natasha had asked. Your body gave in almost instantly, sinking into the soft mattress beneath you. Natasha, careful and gentle, slid into bed behind you not long after, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The warmth of your girlfriend’s body was a comfort that you didn’t realize how much you’d missed. She pulled you closer, pressing her chest against yours back, holding you as though she could somehow protect you from the stress and weariness that had been overtaking you. You let out a small, content sigh, nestling deeper into the blankets as your hand instinctively found hers, your fingers intertwining.

Natasha’s breath was soft and steady, brushing against the back of your neck. She stayed like that, holding you close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. As your body relaxed, Natasha’s heart clenched, knowing how much you had been pushing yourself—too much, too hard. And the thought of you collapsing earlier that evening, that brief, terrifying moment, replayed in her mind over and over.

With her face buried against your hair, Natasha whispered, “I’ve got you, detka,” though she wasn’t sure if you could hear her, already drifting into sleep.

She held you even tighter, her fingers lightly tracing over your skin as if to reassure herself that you were there, safe and resting. Natasha hated seeing you so drained, so worn down by the demands of a job that seemed to take more and more from you. She didn’t like it, the way you always said you were fine, brushing off your own well-being, trying to be strong for everyone else but yourself. She wasn’t used to feeling so helpless, but tonight, at least, she could hold you close and promise herself that she would do whatever it took to make sure you didn’t have to carry so much alone anymore.

“I love you,” Natasha murmured into skin, hoping that in your dreams, you’d feel just how much.

The next day was a blur of routine, at least until everything changed in an instant. Natasha had been buried in paperwork of reports and briefings at S.H.I.E.L.D., her mind only half-focused as she replayed the events of last night. She had been relieved to see you sleep early, hoping that it marked the start of you finally resting more.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, the familiar sight of your name flashing on the screen making her smile for a brief second. She was expecting a cute text or a midday update, hopefully saying that you slept well last night and that you felt much better.

Natasha answered immediately, “Hey, baby—”

But it wasn’t your voice on the other end of the line. It was someone else—a voice she vaguely recognized, one of your coworkers. Her heart dropped instantly.

“Natasha?” the voice was shaky, worried. “It’s Grace. I—I didn’t know who else to call. (Y/n)… she collapsed at work. She’s in the bathroom, and she threw up. She’s barely conscious—”

She didn’t hear the rest. The world around her went silent, her heart pounding in her ears. She was moving before she even realized it, throwing her jacket over her shoulder as she sprinted down the hall, ignoring the questioning glances from her team.

“I’m coming,” Natasha cut in sharply. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She barely gave her a chance to respond before hanging up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she burst through the doors of the headquarters, her mind racing with every worst-case scenario. You had been pushing yourself too hard for too long, and now it was catching up with you in a way Natasha had feared but hoped would never happen.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white, weaving through traffic without hesitation. Every second felt like an eternity as Natasha’s mind kept replaying Grace’s words—collapsed, barely conscious, you. The need to be there, to make sure you were okay, to hold you and take care of you, consumed her completely.

She arrived at your workplace in what felt like both a heartbeat and a lifetime, her heart racing as she tore through the office doors. Faces blurred past her as she hurried down the hall, driven by the singular need to get to you.

When she reached the bathroom, Grace was waiting just outside, looking as pale as a sheet. “She’s in there,” Grace murmured, but Natasha didn’t need to hear more. She pushed the door open and rushed inside, finding you slumped against the wall by the sinks, your face pale, eyes half-closed, and your breathing shallow.

Natasha dropped to her knees beside you, gently lifting your face with trembling hands. “(Y/n),” she whispered, her voice cracking, “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

Your eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. “Nat, I… I’m sorry…” you mumbled weakly, and it only made Natasha’s heart clench tighter.

“Shh, don’t talk,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “We’re getting you home, okay? You’re going to be alright.”

But inside, Natasha was anything but calm.

She took you home with little hesitation, bundling you up in her arms and practically carrying you to the car. The ride back had been silent, you were too drained to speak, your head resting against the window, eyes closed, your breathing soft but labored. As soon as you reached the apartment, Natasha helped you into bed, making sure you had water, medicine, and plenty of blankets, wrapping you up in care as you quickly fell into a deep, much-needed sleep.

Natasha paced the apartment, restless with worry. She texted Fury immediately, telling him she wouldn’t be coming in for work until you were better. Fury didn’t argue—he knew her mind was made up, and nothing would bring her back until she was sure you were okay.

Hours passed with you fast asleep, and Natasha found herself sitting by the bed, watching over you, her own thoughts swirling. Guilt settled deep in her chest. She should’ve known. She should have done something before it got this bad. But none of those thoughts would help now. All she could do was be here, to make sure you didn’t have to go through any of this alone.

It wasn’t until evening that you finally stirred, groaning softly as you slowly sat up, rubbing at your temples. Your head was pounding, your body aching, but when you saw Natasha sitting there, waiting patiently, something inside you softened. She didn’t look mad or frustrated, just concerned, her eyes filled with a quiet, unwavering love that you felt you didn’t deserve, not after pushing yourself so hard and ignoring all of Natasha’s gentle warnings.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur. Your gaze dropped to her lap, guilt heavy in your chest. You had worried her so much, put her through this, and all because you couldn’t say no at work.

But Natasha shook her head immediately, shifting closer, her hand gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek before cupping her face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly, her thumb stroking your soft skin. “You don’t have to say sorry for this.”

It was simple. Those words. But it broke something in you. You had been holding everything in for so long, trying to be strong, trying to manage it all on your own, but Natasha’s kindness, her gentle touch, undid everything. Tears slipped from your eyes before you could stop them, and within moments, you were crying completely, burying your face in Natasha’s shoulder as the weight of everything you had been holding back came crashing down.

She didn’t say a word, only held you closer, your arms wrapping around you protectively, letting you cry as long as you needed to. She pressed soft kisses into your hair, murmuring quiet reassurances, but mostly, she just listened. She knew you needed this release more than anything.

Eventually, through the sobs, your voice cracked, spilling the truth you had been too scared to admit. “He just… He makes me do so much. He’s so demanding, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough. I’m trying so hard, Nat, I’m trying to do everything right, but I can’t…”

Natasha closed her eyes as she listened, stroking your back soothingly, her own frustration simmering beneath the surface. She wanted to storm into your office and tell your boss exactly what she thought of him, but for now, all that mattered was you.

You sobbed into her shoulder, your words tumbling out between shaky breaths, “He… he piles everything on me, Nat. Every day, it’s something new. More deadlines, more expectations, and he doesn’t even care how late I have to stay. If I mess up—just once—he looks at me like I’m useless. I try so hard to keep up, but…”

Your voice cracked, the frustration and helplessness weighing so heavy on your shoulders, it was like a physical weight pressing you down. Your body trembled against Natasha, and all she could do was hold you tighter, one hand resting at the back of your head, her fingers threading gently through your hair.

“I… I just want to do my job, but he’s always expecting more, always demanding… and I can’t even say no, because if I do, I-I’ll get behind, and then—then I’ll look incompetent, and I can’t lose this job.” Your words came out in a rush, a desperate ramble as you tried to explain further, tried to make sense of the unbearable pressure you’ve been enduring. “I’m just so tired, Natasha. I’m so tired, and I can’t keep up anymore.”

Natasha listened in silence, her jaw clenched as she held you close. She felt your pain as if it were her own, every word twisting something deep inside of her. But beneath the surface of her calm, stoic exterior, something darker was brewing. Rage—pure, unfiltered rage—was bubbling up, so fierce it nearly consumed her. She could feel it burning in her chest, in her gut, the protective instinct inside her flaring dangerously as your words sunk in.

Your boss. The one who had drained you like this, the one who had pushed you so far you collapsed in the bathroom, throwing up from sheer exhaustion. Natasha wanted to march into that office and tear him apart. How could anyone treat someone as kind, as gentle, as hardworking as you this way? Her hands tightened around you slightly, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the moment. You needed her right now, needed her love and her comfort, not her anger.

But in her mind, she was already planning.

“I… I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken from crying. “I just… I just want to feel like I’m enough, Nat. I-I feel like I’m doing so much... and I’m so tired of feeling like I’m always failing.”

Natasha’s heart shattered at those words, but she kept her voice steady as she pressed her lips softly to your temple. “You are more than enough, milaya. You always have been. Your boss? He’s the problem, not you.”

You sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at her, your eyes red and puffy, but the pain was still etched deeply into your features. “I just… I don’t know what to do...”

Natasha wanted to tell you right then and there that you didn’t need to do anything, that she would take care of it, that she would storm into that office and make sure your boss never treated you this way again. But instead, she took a deep breath, her voice soft but firm as she held your gaze. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore, detka. I’m here now, and I’m going to help you, okay?”

You nodded weakly, another tear slipping down your cheek, and Natasha gently wiped it away, her thumb lingering on your soft skin. But inside, Natasha was livid. She was already imagining ways to get her hands on your boss, imagining how satisfying it would be to make him pay for everything he had put you through.

For now, though, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on you, pulling you close again. You were the priority. And Natasha silently promised herself that she would do whatever it took to protect you. She wasn’t going to let this go on any longer. She would make sure of it.

An hour later, Natasha was sitting up against the headboard of the bed you shared with her, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of her laptop screen. You were sound asleep beside her, breathing quietly, your body finally getting the rest it so desperately needed. Natasha glanced at you for a moment. She wanted to do everything she could to ensure you would never feel so broken again.

But for now, there was something else on her mind.

She pulled up her sleek, encrypted laptop—the one she used for her work with S.H.I.E.L.D., her missions, her other life. It was a tool for information, and right now, she needed to know everything about your boss. She typed quickly, her fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced precision, bypassing security walls and restricted databases. Within minutes, she had the man’s entire life laid out in front of her.

He wasn’t anything impressive. Natasha scrolled through his information, her brow furrowing with each new detail. He was 57 years old, with a wife and three kids—two daughters and a son. He had a mediocre degree in business from some underwhelming university, and his career trajectory was equally unimpressive. Fired from several previous jobs, all for various reasons that hinted at incompetence and poor management skills. He had only landed his current position because of a personal connection with one of the board members at your company.

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed the information. This was the man who had been making your life a living hell? A man who barely had the qualifications to run a business, let alone manage an entire office full of hardworking people? Her fingers hovered over the keys as she contemplated her next move. There were so many ways she could make his life difficult. She could anonymously tip off a competitor, sabotage his reputation, or even dig up dirt that would have him out of a job faster than he could blink.

But she hesitated, her eyes flicking back to you sleeping next to her. She couldn’t go too far—this was your life, and any drastic move could ripple back and cause more problems for you. Still, the thought of him sitting behind his desk, barking orders at you, draining you day after day, made her blood boil.

She leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes, her mind racing. There had to be a way to make things right, a way to make sure you didn’t suffer under this man’s control any longer. She wasn’t just going to sit back and let you be destroyed by someone so insignificant. No, she was going to find a way to fix this. To protect you.

She closed the laptop gently and placed it on the bedside table, her mind already spinning with ideas. She wasn’t the kind of person who let those she loved be hurt. She would deal with this. One way or another, your boss would learn that no one messes with someone she loves.

She lay back down, pulling you into her arms as she drifted off, her mind already formulating her next steps. For now, though, she held you closer, her lips brushing your forehead.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred beside her, your body moving instinctively as you began to sit up, a quiet groan escaping your lips. Natasha was already awake, watching you closely, her eyes sharp and calculating. She knew exactly what it was you were going to try to do.

"Where are you going?" Natasha’s voice was gentle but firm as she moved swiftly, already getting out of bed before you could muster a response.

You rubbed your eyes, still groggy. “I need to get ready for work…” You mumbled, pushing the covers aside. Your movements were slow, like you were still too tired to fully function, but your determination was clear.

But Natasha was faster, as always. She was already at the foot of the bed, blocking your path with crossed arms and a look that left no room for negotiation. “You’re not going to work today,” Natasha stated flatly, her voice unwavering.

You blinked, taken aback by Natasha’s tone. “But I—”

"No," Natasha cut her off, shaking her head as she stepped closer. "You collapsed yesterday. You threw up. You can barely stand right now. There's no way I’m letting you go back to that place, especially not today."

Your lips parted, a protest forming on the tip of your tongue, but Natasha held your gaze, unwavering and serious. "I already called in sick for you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Natasha…"

"I’m not asking," Natasha added, her tone softening but still firm. She moved closer, resting her hands gently on your shoulders. "You’re staying in bed. You need to rest."

You sighed, your resolve faltering under your girlfriend’s care. "There’s still so much work I have to—"

"I don’t care," Natasha interrupted again, her voice a little more gentle now. "You’re not going back to work today." She paused, her eyes softening as she reached up to cup your face.

You bit your lip, looking down at your lap, conflicted. You knew Natasha was right. You knew your body couldn’t handle much more, not after yesterday, but the guilt still gnawed at you. "I just… I don’t want to fall behind."

"You’re not falling behind," Natasha reassured you, leaning in and brushing a kiss against your forehead. "You’re taking care of yourself. And that’s more important."

Your shoulders sagged as you gave in, sighing softly and leaning into her touch. "Okay," you whispered, your voice quiet and defeated, but also grateful. "I’ll stay in."

Natasha smiled softly, her fingers brushing through your hair. "Good," she whispered.

Without another word, Natasha gently guided you back down onto the bed, pulling the covers up around you. She pressed another soft kiss to your temple before straightening up. "I’ll make you some tea," Natasha said, glancing back over her shoulder. "And maybe some breakfast too."

You watched her, eyes heavy but filled with love and gratitude. “Thank you,” you whispered.

She just gave you a small smile, disappearing into the kitchen. Today, there would be no work. No stress. Just rest.

Natasha spent the entire day doting on you, hovering close by whenever she was needed. She moved through the apartment, focused entirely on making sure you were comfortable. Whether it was bringing tea to soothe your nerves or pressing a cool cloth against your forehead, Natasha never strayed far. Every time you stirred, she was there. When you needed water, she was there. When you needed to rest but couldn’t get comfortable, she shifted things around until everything was just right. There were no complaints, no sighs of frustration at all. 

As the evening wore on and the quiet comfort of your day together began to settle into the apartment, Natasha knew she had to take care of something—something you didn’t need to know about. She sat on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her fingers through your hair, watching as you slowly drifted in and out of sleep. The concern was still etched on her face, her brows slightly furrowed even while you rested.

Natasha let out a slow sigh, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead again. “I need to head into headquarters for a bit,” she murmured quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes fluttered open just slightly, a soft groan escaping your lips as you blinked yourself awake. “Now?” you mumbled, still groggy, your voice rough from the day of rest.

Natasha smiled, trying to make it seem casual. “Just for a little while. I won’t be long. But you need to promise me something, okay?”

You looked up at her, still half-asleep, but you nodded weakly. “What?”

“Stay here,” Natasha said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “No work. No emails. No phone calls. Just rest, okay? I mean it.” Her voice was soft but there was a steel edge to it, and you knew better than to argue when Natasha was like this.

“Okay,” you mumbled, your body sinking deeper into the pillows as you closed your eyes again. “I promise.”

Natasha smiled and stood up, giving you one last lingering look before grabbing her jacket and heading for the door. You didn’t need to know where she was really going. There was no need to worry you more than you already were.

This wasn’t about S.H.I.E.L.D. Natasha wasn’t heading into work.

She was going to pay your boss a little visit at the office—a "talk" that was long overdue. There were things that needed to be said, and she wasn’t going to let this man get away with pushing you to the brink any longer.

Natasha moved swiftly through the streets, her sharp instincts guiding her to your office building with practiced ease. The city had quieted down for the night, only the hum of distant traffic breaking the stillness. She had no real reason to hurry, but the tension in her chest urged her forward, faster.

At the building, it was as quiet as expected at this hour. Most of the employees had gone home hours ago, leaving only the security guards and a few late workers scattered in cubicles on the higher floors. Your boss, though, was always the last to leave. Natasha had done her research. She knew his routine. He liked to linger, even though he barely did anything of substance, making his staff stay late while he hid behind his office door, enjoying the title of authority he had somehow stumbled into.

Natasha slipped into the building with ease, her steps soundless as she navigated the hallways. She knew the place well from all the times she’d come to pick you up late at night. But tonight was different. Tonight wasn’t about waiting patiently in the car, hoping you would come out soon, looking worn but smiling.

This time, Natasha was the one who would leave him waiting.

When she finally reached his office, the dim light of his desk lamp cast long shadows across the room. She slipped inside without a sound, moving with the grace and stealth that only years of training could perfect. She found the perfect spot in a chair in front of his desk, just out of the light, where she could see the door in the reflection of the window but remain unseen. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she imagined the look on his face when he found her there.

Sitting in the dark, Natasha’s thoughts drifted back to you—how pale and fragile you had looked just the night before, falling into your arms after trying to push through another hellish day. It angered her more than anything else. She could fight villains, take down global threats, but this man—this petty, power-hungry boss—was breaking you down in ways that Natasha couldn’t fight with her fists.

But tonight, she’d find a way. One that didn’t involve any violence, though the temptation lingered just beneath the surface.

The door to the office finally swung open, and your boss entered, his voice loud and cocky as he spoke into the phone. Natasha remained hidden in the shadows, her sharp gaze locked on him as he crossed the room, completely unaware of her presence. His tone was sickeningly sweet, but Natasha could hear the sleaze dripping off every word.

“I told you, sweetheart, I’ll be home soon,” he was saying, his back turned to Natasha. “No, no, my wife’s out of town. It’ll just be us.” He chuckled, the sound grating in the silence. “You’re still thinking about this weekend, aren’t you? God, I can’t wait.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened as she listened. Of course, she already knew about the affair—she had dug into his life thoroughly. This man was every bit as pathetic as he seemed, and every word out of his mouth only confirmed what she’d suspected. His voice continued, smug and arrogant as he paced in front of his desk.

“You just keep that dress ready for me, alright? I’ll take care of everything.”

The call ended with another disgusting chuckle, and as he pocketed his phone, still grinning to himself, Natasha decided it was time. The darkness cloaked her presence until the perfect moment. She let the silence linger, just long enough to unnerve him. And then, with a soft but unmistakable voice, she shattered the calm.

“You sure you’ve got everything under control?”

The sound of her voice cut through the room like a knife, and he froze mid-step. He turned slowly, his eyes widening as he finally noticed her sitting calmly in the dark corner of his office, legs crossed, her face barely visible in the dim light coming from the window. Natasha tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable, but the intensity of her gaze was unmistakable.

For a second, he said nothing, his face draining of color as the realization dawned on him that someone had been watching—listening.

You boss stammered, his voice shaky as his eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. “Y-You’re … that… Black Widow…”

Natasha sat still and threatening in the chair in front of him, her piercing green eyes locked onto his face, her expression cold and calculated.

“Good,” she said, her voice low and steady, with a dangerous edge. “You know who I am.”

The man’s breath hitched as he took a small, trembling step back, the reality of the situation settling in. He had heard of her, of course. Everyone had. Black Widow. One of the Avengers. An assassin. The woman who had singlehandedly taken down entire criminal organizations and brought governments to their knees. And here she was, in his office—calm, composed, but undeniably lethal.

Your boss backed up against his desk, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “A-Are you here to kill me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha rolled her eyes, the question so typical, so small in comparison to what she was really after. “No,” she said flatly, her annoyance barely hidden behind her calm exterior.

“I-I have children,” he blurted out suddenly, as if that would somehow shield him from whatever fate he imagined was coming.

Natasha’s gaze hardened, her eyebrows furrowed, and her patience thinning. “I don’t want your children,” she said, her tone cold and dismissive.

“I-I didn’t—” he began to sputter, but Natasha cut him off with a raised hand, her eyes narrowing.

“Let’s skip the excuses,” she said, stepping closer. “I know exactly who you are too. I know what kind of boss you are, what kind of person you are, and I know what you’ve been putting (Y/n) through.”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out. Natasha’s presence was suffocating, and he was utterly defenseless. He had never been in the presence of someone like her before, and it showed. His eyes flickered toward the door, and Natasha smirked.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, her tone laced with a quiet threat. “You’re going to stand there and listen very carefully to what I have to say.”

She leaned in even closer, her expression unchanging, cold, and stoic. Her calm demeanor was somehow more terrifying than if she'd raised her voice.

“(Y/n) is my girlfriend,” she began, her tone flat but every word carrying a heavy weight. “And what you're doing to her… all that work you’ve be been giving her… work that you are responsible for... It stops now.”

His eyes widened in fear, his breaths shallow and shaky. Natasha didn’t break eye contact, her gaze unwavering as she continued, “You’re overworking her. Taking advantage of her. And I don’t like it.”

She paused, letting her words settle before she delivered the final blow. “It’d be such a shame,” she added, her voice dropping an octave, “if your wife found out about the affair. Or maybe your kids—Matthew, Ellie, and little Amy—how do you think they’d feel knowing what kind of man their father really is?”

He flinched at the mention of his wife and children, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. It felt as though Natasha had pulled back a curtain, exposing him to the light of day, and he knew he had nowhere to hide. His face drained of color, his mouth opening slightly as he tried to find his words, but nothing came out. She had stripped him of every ounce of bravado, his secrets laid bare before her.

“I know everything,” she continued, unbothered by his panic. “I know that you sit here in your office all day playing some stupid card game on your computer, I know where you get your suits dry cleaned, I know what time you leave work, I know where you take your mistress. I know where your kids go to school, I know your wife’s phone number. I even know how much you’ve got stashed away in that offshore account of yours. 

He began to tremble, his entire body frozen under her scrutiny. He trembled under her gaze. Her voice, so stoic and emotionless, sliced through the air like a knife, sending chills down his spine.

“You see, I know everything,” Natasha stepped back, her posture still intimidating. “So, you’re going to go in tomorrow and lighten her workload. You’re going to give her a week off, maybe two. Make it two weeks. You’re going to treat her with the respect she deserves. Or… Well, I’m sure your loving family would be very interested in some of the things that I know.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to muster a response, but no words came. The weight of her presence bore down on him, suffocating any bravado he might have had. He could feel the heat of her anger simmering just below the surface, the unspoken threats swirling in the air around them.

“Am I clear?” Natasha asked, her voice steady and unyielding, cutting through the silence like a blade. She leaned slightly forward, her intense gaze locking onto his, piercing through the last remnants of his bravado. “Or do I need to clarify?”

He trembled visibly, the reality of her presence pressing down on him like an anvil. “N-No,” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “I understand. I won’t… I’ll fix it.”

“Good,” she replied, her tone dropping slightly, the threat still lingering in the air. “Because I will be watching. I have no problem about coming back to pay you a visit if nothing changes.”

He nodded, sweat forming on his brow as he absorbed the weight of her words. The starkness of her promises echoed in his mind, and he couldn't shake the fear that if he didn’t comply, he wouldn’t just be facing consequences from his boss—but from someone who was far more formidable than he could ever imagine.

As she stepped out, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, a wave of satisfaction washed over her. She had made her point clear; the fear etched on your boss’s face replayed in her mind, a victory she hadn’t expected to feel so sweet. He had crumbled in an instant, leaving behind only a trembling shell, and that alone brought Natasha a certain degree of relief.

Yet, even as she walked down the deserted hallway, an urge to punch him lingered like a nagging itch. The thought of his arrogant smirk—now replaced by pure terror—satisfied her, but she couldn’t shake the image of him cowering. A part of her wishes she could have delivered a more physical message, a simple punch to the face would’ve sufficed. But as she rounded the corner, she reminded herself that she didn’t need to; it was a warning well delivered. He deserved every ounce of the panic she had instilled in him.

Natasha made it back home soon after, the familiar scent of home filling her nose, She could feel the weight of the day lift slightly, yet she knew it wasn’t over. Not until she held you close and assured you that everything would be alright.

As she made her way to the bedroom, Natasha paused for a moment at the door. She wanted to shield you from the harsh realities of your work life, to remind you how strong and valued you were. Most importantly, she needed to ensure that you would never feel overwhelmed or neglected again.

With a deep breath, Natasha pushed open the door. You lay curled up in bed, your face soft and peaceful. After getting dressed and ready for bed, Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, reaching a hand out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. She knew she had to be the partner you deserved—strong, protective, and fiercely devoted.

“Hey, baby,” Natasha whispered softly, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath her fingers. “I’m home.”

As you stirred, your eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile broke across your face.

Natasha couldn’t help but smile back, her heart swelling at the sight of you. She wasted no time pulling you into her chest, wrapping her arms around your waist as she laid back against the mattress. You nestled your face into the crook of Natasha’s neck, the familiar scent of her skin calming you.

She could feel the tension of the day slowly melting away as she held you close.

The morning sun rose and spilled into the room, casting a warm glow that danced across the sheets. You stirred, blinking the sleep from your eyes, and found Natasha propped up on one elbow, a soft smile gracing her lips. The sight was a balm for your weary soul, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Natasha said, her voice warm and inviting. “I’ll make us some coffee. Just relax.”

With that, she slipped out of bed. As Natasha disappeared into the kitchen, your gaze drifted to your phone lying on the bedside table. You reached for it, the screen lighting up with notifications. One message caught your eye—an all-too-familiar name that made your stomach churn. It was from your boss.

“(Y/n), I hope you’re feeling better. You have two weeks off to rest after your collapse. Take care of yourself.”

You stared at the message, your brow furrowing as you furrowed your eyebrows. You reread the text, half-expecting the words to rearrange themselves into something more familiar—something like the condescending, rushed notes you typically received from your boss. But there it was, plain as day.

It felt insane, almost surreal. He had never been this nice before. Your boss was notorious for pushing his employees to their limits, often leaving them feeling drained and unappreciated. The idea that he would suddenly show concern for your well-being felt foreign, like a mirage shimmering just beyond your reach. You thought back to the countless late nights spent at the office, the way he’d demanded more and more from you. Was this a ploy? Some sort of strategic move to save face after your collapse?

Your heart raced as you considered the implications. Two weeks off could be a gift—or it could be a way to push you out without having to deal with the consequences of his actions. The knot in your stomach tightened.

Natasha walked into the bedroom, the gentle clink of ceramic against wood breaking the silence as she placed a steaming mug of tea on the bedside table. The aromatic steam curled upward, mingling with the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her brow slightly furrowed in concern.

You glanced up, the unexpected news still swirling in your mind. “I’ve… got two weeks off?” The words left your lips with disbelief, like you were trying to comprehend a twist in a plot that you never saw coming.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing her features. “Oh, that… that’s a good thing, no?” she replied, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she took a sip of her coffee, clearly unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

“But why would he…” Your voice trailed off, your thoughts racing back to the myriad ways your boss had mistreated you, the way he thrived on making you do so much work, squeezing every ounce of productivity out of you until you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Then, you turned your gaze to Natasha, who seemed utterly at ease, wrapped in the comfort of the morning routine. But you knew all of Natasha’s faces and tendencies—knew the moments when she was holding something back, when the corners of her mouth hinted at secrets.

“Did you have something to do with this?”

Natasha’s expression shifted, the casual confidence fading just a fraction. She set her mug down slowly, the soft thud echoing in the stillness.

“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning innocence, but you could see the flicker of something—was it guilt? Or perhaps a hint of pride?

“Natasha,” you pressed, searching your girlfriend’s eyes for the truth.

She knew she couldn’t keep anything from you; it was one of the many things she loved about her relationship with you. The honesty, the trust—it was a delicate balance, but one she cherished deeply.

“Fine, I… talked to him for a bit,” she admitted, the words slipping out with a reluctant sigh.

Your expression shifted, your brows knitting together as realization settled in. “Is that where you were last night, when you told me you’d be at HQ?”

Natasha winced slightly. “Yeah, that’s… that’s exactly where I was,” she confessed, knowing you could see right through her.

You sat up straighter, your curiosity piqued. “What did you say to him? Did you threaten him?”

Natasha bit her lip lightly, a tad bit shameful, trying to lighten the mood despite the serious undertones of the conversation. “Maybe a little,” she said, but her smile faded as she caught the concerned look on your face. “I just told him to treat you right. That you’re not some disposable employee he can push around. That’s all, really.”

“And what did he say?”

“He was… well, he was scared,” Natasha replied, her tone steady but tinged with frustration. “I told him that if he didn’t back off, I… wouldn’t expose his secrets.”

Your eyes widened, “You can’t just go around threatening people, Natasha. That’s not how this works!”

“I know, I know,” she said, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “But I couldn’t just sit back and watch him run you into the ground. You’re too important to me, (Y/n).”

Your heart softened at her words, your irritation ebbing away as you recognized the fierce protectiveness in your girlfriend’s voice. “I appreciate it, really,” you said, your tone more gentle now. “You could get in trouble for this, you know...”

“I don’t care,” Natasha shook her head, her eyes fierce with determination. “I didn’t like how he was treating you. Your health comes first. I can’t keep watching you exhaust yourself when you have no need to be.”

“Natasha, you can’t just fix everything with threats,” you replied, your voice soft yet firm, trying to find the right balance between gratitude and apprehension. “What if he retaliates?”

Natasha shrugged slightly, her confidence going strong. “He won’t. And I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. You’ve been working yourself to the bone, and it’s not okay.”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your heart as you listened to her. “But, I’m just—”

“Just what?” Natasha interrupted, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a softer tone. “You’re not just anything. You’re my girlfriend, I love you, and I care about you more than anything. You deserve to be treated with respect.”

Your cheeks flushed, the sincerity of her words wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You sighed, your heart swelling with gratitude as you looked back up at her.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Natasha settled beside you on the bed, leaning in to plant a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth. Jokingly, she added, “You know, if you ever decide you don’t want to work again, I will happily provide for anything you need or want.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully, but the hint of a smile tugged at your lips. “As if I would ever let you do that.”

She shrugged, feigning indifference, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You think I wouldn’t make an excellent sugar mama? I could totally rock that role.”

“Right, because the world needs more dangerous assassins running a trust fund,” you shot back with another giggle.

“I think I’ll have you know, I’d be also be very happy woman if I got to spoil you everyday.”

“You already do.” You rolled your eyes again, smiling at her softly. “What were his… secrets?”

Natasha gave you a smug smile and shook her head, “He’s an unfaithful husband and he gambles a huge amount of money. That’s it, really. But he’s too scared to confront his family about it… I also think he was mostly scared I’d hurt him. Other than that, he’s just an asshole. I can’t believe someone like him was the reason behind you being so exhausted all the time. God, I really wanted to punch him.”

Your cheeks flushed with color as you threw your head back, laughter spilling from your lips, and in that moment, Natasha was reminded of just how beautiful you were when you let yourself unwind, free from work, worries and stress. The sound warmed her from the inside out, chasing away the shadows that had lingered from those long days when you had been too exhausted to find joy.

The worry Natasha had felt for you began to dissolve with each chuckle that escaped her lips, each teasing jab that came out with a playful glint in your eye. She couldn’t help but grin wider. She moved even closer, unable to resist the pull of your happiness. She reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, moving her head to place a great many soft kisses against your cheek.

"I’ve missed this," she said softly, her smile unwavering as she gazed into your eyes, feeling as if the weight of the world had lifted, if only for a little while. "I’ve missed you."

You smiled at her.

And Natasha stared, captivated and unable to stop her lips from curving upwards. She promised to herself that she’d protect that smile of yours, that no one was ever going to take it away from you ever again, not while she was there.

navigation | n.r. masterlist

[l-na]

help a severely disabled black mixed trans person out!

my dearest friend @magz is rly going through it right now!

[text id: two discord screensho messages from magz. the first one reads, "Unrelated but am having such bad combo? No electricity (it went away at 9pm last night), broken fridge, no internet, no food, dominican summer day, home alone. Hope the 26% charge phone survive, guys". the second screenshot says says, "Was gonna ebeg for food money, more than before cuz am gonna be alone all week w no one to help w cooking either, but our mobile data sucks n hates tumblr so can't make it atm, so no idea"]

magz had a bad combo of no internet, bad mobile data connection, long electric outages, still broken fridge, no food, hot summer day, and not having irl help for the week.

this is an EMERGENCY.

magz at least needs help with food + necessities for this stretch of week: $80usd or more.

donate here to ko-fi and here to paypal

for added context, magz lives in a "third world country" and suffers from seizures and needs help for basic tasks. magz is also currently unable to speak due to said seizures. life is incredibly difficult for magz right now, PLEASE help magz at least survive!

dont tag as anything, please!

[noirscript]

silent servitude

WARNING/S! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. YANDERE. noncon; breeding; powerplay; biting; slightly descriptive sex scenes; f!reader

One must abide by His Majesty's every rule.

It was a phrase you often hear from other servants in the castle from the moment you joined them as your mother's apprentice. A phrase that helped them survive the dog-eat-dog world inside the palace walls.

“You're not expected to excel in your work, but do not even think about failing the task given to you.” Your mother grabbed your shoulders with a squeeze. “Do you understand, my child?”

You nodded your head as you tightened your grip on your skirt. “Yes, mother.”

She lightly tap your cheek before placing a lasting kiss on your forehead. “Go on, dear. I will see you before sunset.”

You looked around your surroundings before hesitantly nodding. For some reason, you can't seem to ignore what you've been feeling from the moment you entered the servant's gate. As if someone's watching your every move.

The path inside the dark tunnel was short, but for you, the time seemed to slow down. Your feet felt heavy to take one step forward after another. Like it was keeping you from going any further.

“You've arrived,” a middle-aged woman spoke while standing in the midst of the desolate area, few steps from where you came from. “Follow me.”

You scanned your surroundings, a poor attempt in remembering the path where you came from. However, the more you walk further and further away from the path that leads to your mother, the more you could sense something ominous was about to occur.

“Are you listening?”

You bowed your head and apologized.

“Stand tall and look at me,” she ordered. “In this castle, you must keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Do not even try to let your mind wander elsewhere. If you don’t want to suffer any consequences.”

Your body shook. You tried to speak, but your voice broke. However, when you nodded your head in desperation, the woman simply turn around and started to list down the rules within that castle.

“Do you even know why you're here?”

“T-To train to become my m-mother's replacement...”

The woman sneered. “If that'll help you sleep at night.”

After giving you a tour around an area that only a handful of servants can access, she led you towards a gated path that lead towards a small chateau in the middle of a small open field inside the castle walls.

The chateau, albeit small compared to the colossal main palace, was still bigger than your home. You also noticed the crawling vines on its walls, and as well as its tinted windows that kept its interior hidden from prying eyes.

“You will keep this place in order. You may not ask for anyone's help. You will only work here alone. Your food will be provided by one of the servants, but do not let anyone else inside the chateau.”

“But my lady...”

“That is all you need to know.” She looked down at your stature before clicking her tongue. “Stupid commoners.”

With that, she left you on your own.

THINKING BACK, you should've realized the message behind her poisonous words. Nobody would think that it is normal for a servant to clean an entire chateau within the day all by themselves.

That doing such chore might result to an inevitable mishaps that forces one to change their attire. Something that might force them to take every piece of clothing from themselves.

“Y-Your Majesty, please forgive this commoner from—” you felt one of his large, calloused hand caressing your face while the other hand pulled you closer to his bare body.

“Kept that mouth shut before I do it myself,” he whispered against your cheek before slightly biting it. “Who would've thought that this would be an easy chase?”

Callix, the reigning monarch, is known for his compassion towards the commoners. Some people would even see him interact with the lowest of the poor during their darkest moment, providing them hope and warmth.

But as you writhe beneath him, allowing him to touch every inch of your body as he please, made you doubt everything you heard about him.

After savoring your heat, he aligned his thick member against your quim. Callix grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to meet his gaze.

“Please...” you pleaded, but he only swallowed all your pleas and cries as he penetrated your tight walls.

When your first intercourse with him ended almost immediately, you believed that he would let you go. That he would order you leave and never show yourself in front of him.

But after resting his head against the crook of your neck, he suddenly grabbed your ankles and pushing it apart.

You could feel his cum gush out of your quim, but Callix was far from satisfied.

That night alone, he ravished your body until the morning sun has risen.

When you woke up, you felt the coldness of the heavy iron wrapped around your ankles.

“You're awake,” you heard his voice from somewhere in the room. “I have some news for you. So, open your eyes.”

You tried to open your eyes, but for some reason, your eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” he asked while gritting his teeth.

“Open your eyes!” he demanded as he grab your cheeks tightly.

You tried your best to open at least one of your eyes and look at him.

“There's my queen's beautiful eyes.” You could feel his hands all over your body as he leave kissing against your face. “Can you hear me, my queen?”

“M’not... queen...”

He chuckled before yanking your hair back, exposing your neck to him.

“You dare oppose me, hm?” he asked as he harshly nip your neck. “Are you forgetting who I am, my queen?”

How you wish you could simply forget who he is.

Quick note: This might be the start of some series. Let me know your thoughts :)

[lemurchick]

Every year on the tourist island of Borkum in Germany, locals organize a celebration called Klaasohm, the purpose of which is to beat women.

On December 5, unmarried male members of the prestigious association “Boys of Borkum” wear huge, up to a meter high, masks decorated with horns, fur and feathers. First there is a ritual fight in a closed hall, where only those born on the island are allowed. Photos and videos of the fight are forbidden.

The winner chooses his assistants and they scatter around the island hunting for women. Any woman who gets in their way will be beaten, I'm not kidding, with cow horns in which grain is poured for additional weight. Bruises remain for weeks. It's fun for men, and pain and humiliation for women.

This brutal tradition is believed to date back to the days of the whalers. They would return to their homes in the fall and beat their wives, reminding them who was in charge of the household. The custom has survived to this day, but outsiders are not told about it: the male population of the island does not want it to become known. Only about 5,000 people live on the island, and those who break the conspiracy of silence will face public condemnation and stigma. But some find the courage to speak out anonymously on social media:

Many islanders hate the festival and are forced to keep their mouths shut because of social pressure.

"As a Borkum native, I have been telling people for years that this actually still exists on the island and no one wants to believe me."

"Everyone has to participate, and those who don't want to, too. They're afraid they'll get hurt if they speak out."

"This island is a big village. I think everyone here knows how communities like this work. If you speak out against it, the whole town will talk about you, you will be ignored and sometimes persecuted. I've seen what it's like for people who have been ostracized. Many people are afraid, which is why this festival is not publicly criticized. The journalists will leave, but you'll still have a reputation as a traitor."

Defenders of the tradition argue that in order to avoid being beaten, women simply need to stay out of the house. However, there are many accounts of men letting the masked participants into houses and apartments or even pushing women out into the street.

For many years, information about the barbaric custom did not leak out. In 2018, journalists tried to report on Klaasohm, but they were literally kicked off the island. This year, however, almost all of Germany's leading media outlets covered what was happening on the island.

Faced with nationwide criticism, the mayor issued a statement emphasizing that “in order for Klaasohm to remain an important holiday and festival that shapes the identity of the people of Borkum, awareness must be kept low. It has always been the task of the association to maintain silence around this tradition. Please be respectful and do not spread the word.”

Borkum's Equal Opportunities Commissioner supported the statement, and the police noted that no woman has contacted law enforcement in the past five years. Perhaps this is because police officers, doctors, court officials and teachers are heavily involved in the festival and women realize that there is no point in coming for help from someone who held you down yesterday, subjecting you to beatings.

The statement from the Mayor's office only added fuel to the fire and within a day the Young Men of Borkum Association issued a new message:

"We categorically distance ourselves from any form of violence against women and apologize for what has happened in the past."

They also noted that the festival “is more than just a celebration - it is a living expression of our community and an integral part of life in Borkum. It is a time when the whole island comes together.”

As we know, nothing brings men together like hunting women.

(translated from russian channel (the author lives in Germany) Damn Ambivalence )

German Sources: video: Das Schweigen der Insel - Wenn Borkum Klaasohm feiert (https://www.ardmediathek.de/video/panorama-die-reporter/das-schweigen-der-insel-wenn-borkum-klaasohm-feiert/ndr/Y3JpZDovL25kci5kZS8xMzExXzIwMjQtMTEtMjYtMjEtMTU) Hei kummt Klaasohm! (https://www.mare.de/hei-kummt-klaasohm-content-446?srsltid=AfmBOooQQfoiSEBEKzBp1VL0M4ZXkMh_bo3jlfz-vy7IUJOjfxmDLfTS)

Wirbel um „Klaasohm“: Wird Frauen auf Borkum der Hintern versohlt? (https://www.rnd.de/wissen/klaasohm-skandal-auf-borkum-maskierte-maenner-jagen-frauen-tradition-oder-problem-44QIIXJFZNB4JNI4L6LWUNUFSM.html)

Wie ist das Klaasohm-Fest auf Borkum wirklich? (https://www.stadt-borkum.de/index.php?object=tx,3480.5.1&ModID=7&FID=3480.34396.1)

Der Klaasohm – Brauchtum auf Borkum (https://www.dein-niedersachsen.de/regionen/klaasohm/)

Klaasohm-Fest auf Borkum künftig ohne Schläge? (https://www.ndr.de/fernsehen/sendungen/panorama/aktuell/Borkum-Frauen-Schlagen-bei-Klaasohm-soll-abgeschafft-werden,klaasohm106.html)

[notherpuppet]

What is your opinion of AI? Personally, I think that like any technology, it depends on the user and their intentions, but that is just me.

What about you?

1. Theft

The most central issues with AI as it is now is that the programs were trained/are trained with STOLEN art. Stolen visual art, music, writing, etc.

The vast majority of what it has been fed is stolen. As in, the artists behind the work were not ever given the chance to consent nor be compensated for their works being used to feed the machine.

This reason alone is straight up copyright infringement and the optimist in me does believe the long arm of the law is gonna shut these programs down for that. But the long arm of the law is looooooong, and the technology is disrupting people’s livelihoods now. Unlike robots or machinery that was invented and built to expedite assembly line/factory work, this technology is only functional by using other people’s labor. If we didn’t live in a society where you have to “earn” your right to live in it, then this would still be wrong, but it probably wouldn’t be such an existential problem.

There are active class action lawsuits for infringement of copyright. And the private sector has begun filing suits and I’m quite certain they’ll win because again—it’s simply theft. These companies did not make licensing contracts, they’re not paying royalties to the artists they stole from.

So if you consider using ai that generates “art” (whether it is visual, music, writing, etc.) please consider stopping immediately, as you would actively be benefiting from theft (which is wrong imo!!!!)

2. AI in its present form dishonors the human spirit

In my personal relationship with AI technology, I do not use it to generate ideas or ‘art’. I detest the notion to use technology in that way tbh. AI is a form of technology, so it’s difficult to break it down into every specific use it actually has. But here’s an attempt; no to generative AI, okay to certain AI.

There are kinds of AI programming in the programs I use (such as features that help you color in a shape quickly or make a perfect circle). This is useful tech (that requires zero IP theft) and I like it because it helps me by taking care of tedious tasks so that I have more time to spend in the creative and drawing processes. But I still choose the colors, I still draw the images, I still write the stories.

I think the way AI is used right now with a focus on “creative thinking” (where it’s not actually creating anything it’s just churning out other people’s *stolen* ideas and practice) is a total waste. AI being used as an assistant to help humans find information easily can be/has been swell. And requires no theft :D

But for whatever reason (greed, capitalism are my guesses), tech companies are leaning into a direction to replace creativity with AI?? I imagine the people behind this view the practice of art as tedious work because it is challenging??

But the beauty of art and the practice of it is that it allows humans to experience and overcome challenges with little to no stakes.

When society determines that is not a valuable use of human time, then I think we’ll all be significantly more miserable. If we allow a machine to be “creative” and leave us to only experience challenges with stakes—like survival (rent, putting food on the table).

So here are some examples of how I feel about AI uses;

AI to translate languages, find resources, discern malicious malware/spam from harmless messages > 👍🏽

AI to generate ideas/art for you > 🤢 Why??????? Why would you want that…that’s the most exceptional part of the human experience and you relinquish it to a bot trained on stolen ideas? 😭

[entitled-fangirl]

War.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan returns back to Winterfell after the Dance of the Dragons, eager to see his wife once more.

Warnings: talks of death, fighting, blood, talk of sex

Masterlist

……………………………….

Cregan rode his horse as close to the doors of Winterfell as he possibly could, intent on getting in as fast as possible.

He had been at war for months now, almost a year, and he was ready to see his wife once more.

The nights spent by campfire in the cold would be worth every moment.

But when she was not outside waiting for him, he was confused.

He jumped from his horse, throwing the reigns to anyone who would take them and ran inside.

He was instantly met with the maester.

"Welcome back, my lord."

Cregan have a victorious smile, "Good morrow. The battle has been won. I'm curious why my wife was not awaiting my arrival? I sent a raven ahead of me."

The maester nodded, "Ah, yes. The raven. The message was received, my lord."

He completely paused, thrown off, "Then? Where is she?"

"Let us walk, my lord."

Cregan became defensive, "Where is she? I won't ask again."

"Please, walk with me."

He felt a pain in his chest but he nodded and moved alongside the maester back outside.

The maester sighed, "I was asked to be the one to tell you, and this information is not easy to tell, I'm afraid."

Cregan nodded as he took in every word fervently.

"Lady Stark found herself with child not long after you left."

He had considered this. Their last night together was a passionate one, and he often spent his nights after under the stars, imagining her swollen with his seed.

"Why did I not receive news of this?"

"I advised her against doing such a thing. You needed to remain focused on the task ahead."

He scoffed, "My wife was with child! I deserved to know!" He paused in his step with a worried gaze. "Where… where is it now? What happened to it?"

"It's a healthy boy, my lord."

Cregan let out a relieved breath, "Thank the gods. I was frightened."

The maester took a long breath in thought, "The pregnancy went quite well. She did all the right things."

"…But?"

"But…" The maester grimaced, "She was not equipped well for giving birth. We had to make a choice."

Cregan felt ringing in his ears. Like his throat had been slit from behind. No breath moved in or out of his body. "W… What?"

"I'm sorry, my lord. She did not make it."

Cregan's knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

"I understand this is hard to hear, but you have a son. An heir! You must celebrate!"

"CELEBRATE?" He roared as he looked up to the maester with teary eyes. "CELEBRATE DEATH AT MY DOORSTEP WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE?"

"My lord, please calm yourself."

Cregan slammed his fist into the ground, "My wife is dead." A look came over his face, "You said… You said you chose."

"Aye, my lord. We did."

"Who?" He growled. "Who exactly chose a child over my wife?"

"I made the final say. I considered listening to her pleas, but once I saw it was a boy, I knew it would be worth it."

She had tried to survive. To live.

"What did she say?" He asked lowly.

"That…" the maester paused. "Perhaps it is too soon to speak of these things."

He stood on shaky knees in anger. His voice was low and predatory, "You marred her perfect skin. You hurt her. You MURDERED HER!"

He rushed forward and threw a punch to the man's jaw, watching him fall to the ground.

But that did not stop Cregan.

He straddled the man, throwing punch and punch, "SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Eventually, a few men pulled Cregan away despite his fighting back.

But he quickly collapsed from grief.

…

He rocked the sleeping boy back and forth in his arms, cursing every time the babe looked up at him with the same eyes as his dead mother.

He had fought endlessly for a war that wasn't his, not knowing a war had been fought in his own house without him.

…………………………….

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

[hermetiqa]

What study habits will help you this school year?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK | MASTERLIST

PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

The study habits that will help you this year are the ones that will keep you engaged in your lessons and courses/subjects. Something that keeps your mind active and keeps you interested in learning. Be curious about what you're learning. Take studying as something positive and don't take it as a responsibility. Have the mindset that you're privileged enough to study and learn these stuff. Be in a state of wanting to learn, not needing to learn. Also, leave your "failures" behind, such as low grades or not being able to get a perfect score on your exam. Instead, focus on what you lacked that caused that result.

Study techniques:

Make flash cards

Use white boards (the bigger, the better)

Act like a teacher, pretend that you're teaching

Similar to the previous one, you can also pretend that you're reporting the lesson in class

Make mind maps with only your knowledge and check what you missed after

Pile 2

I'm getting a lot of energy here from you, Pile 2. First of all, STOP CRAMMING. You might have survived the last school year by cramming but it won't help you anymore, especially this time. You need to study in advance especially when you know you have exams coming up. Stop studying the night before the day of the exam. Also, leave the past behind. Let go of your "friends" who distract you from studying and just want to go out to parties. Change your routine. Your previous routine could be a success for you but it drains you. Find some balance between studying and leisure.

Study techniques:

Study with your friends together

Put notes on your walls so you can look at them anytime and you'll learn them naturally

If you exercise and you happen to have a treadmill, put notes on the wall in front of you so you can read as you exercise (walking or jogging)

Similarly, you can record yourself reading your notes and listen to your record while jogging outside or exercising

Read your notes outloud

Pile 3

So here's the studious pile. I'm seeing that you tend to study hard, not study smart. And that's your mistake. You should study smart, not study hard. Stop memorizing and start understanding your lessons more. Stop rewriting your notes over and over until you reach your desired perfection of your notes, the "aesthetic" that you want. Instead, do your best to write well when you're taking notes in class. That way, you won't have to rewrite them at home. When reading your notes, it's best for you to use different colors of highlighters. Also when someone offers you some help in a lesson that you struggle with, accept it, even if you only struggle a little. Lastly, enjoy learning! Don't stress yourself too much about it and overthink you'll fail.

Study techniques:

Don't stay up all night to study and wake up early in the morning to review, especially to recall what you've already studied

Never ever cram and always finish the easiest tasks first

Drink coffee when studying (only if you don't have health issues or you weren't advised that you should avoid coffee)

Keep on rereading your notes and rewrite what you remember, then keep track of what you tend to forget

Make tests for yourself or look for tests online

[niki-phoria]

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: angst word count: 729

includes: implied re4 leon, leon cries, so much angst

a/n: inspired by this prompt list by @urfriendlywriter and this post by @rishiguro !! i'm debating making a part 02 of this where reader survives if anyone's interested

warnings: lots of blood, mentions of death

“no, no, no,” leon whispers. he all but falls to his knees beside you, desperately pressing his hands against your torso. “come on, stay with me.” 

“leon?” your voice is raspy and strained as you force the words to leave your lips. squinting up at him, you can just barely make out his blurry figure hovering just over you. “lee-” you choke. 

“shh, don’t try to talk,” he whispers. “it’s okay. i’m here. just… keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

blood seeps through the thick fabric of leon’s gloves, staining his fingers a deep red. he moves without thinking; his heart beating violently in his chest reminds him of his own mortality as he rips his shirt and harness off.

leon’s hands tremble as he balls up the fabric of his t-shirt before pressing it against your wound. a low groan of pain escapes you at the contact. your hand instinctively reaches up to wrap around his wrist, though you don’t make any real efforts to pull away from him. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers. his eyebrows furrow as he racks his brain in an attempt to remember his first aid training. tears blur his vision before he blinks them away to focus on the task at hand. “i know it hurts. just look at me. just keep looking at me.”

your eyes flutter shut for a second before you force them back open. the world around you spins. you can feel your own heart beating violently against your chest walls - desperate to keep you alive. “leon,” you choke out once again. blood pools in your mouth with each strained movement you make. your chest shakes as you cough uncontrollably. 

“don’t speak,” he whispers. his eyes flicker from your chest to your face. “it’s okay. don’t try to talk.”

you squint up at him. a shaky breath leaves your lips before you do your best to softly smile at leon. “i- i love you.”

the words sound more like a choked groan when they leave your lips, but you hope the message comes across nonetheless. you shudder as another, shallower breath escapes you. black spots begin to appear in your vision. 

leon presses down on your chest even harder. a hiss of pain escapes your clenched teeth. “stay with me,” he whispers. “y/n, please stay with me.”

your breath hitches in your throat. the black spots spread until they all but overtake your entire field of vision. before you know it, the world slowly begins to fade away. 

“y/n, come on,” leon mumbles. bloody hands reach up to cradle your face. his name leaves your lips like a prayer. like if he hopes enough he’ll be able to save you. 

tears roll down his cheeks in waves before he realizes. it feels like it’s been years since he’s cried. at least not like this. his throat burns as choked sobs escape his lips. the world seemingly falls apart around him. 

“please don’t leave me,” leon whimpers. his voice cracks as much as his heart does. each beat of his heart is more painful than the last. “please… i need you. i need you here with me.” 

you don’t move. your hands don’t shake from fear. your eyes aren’t squeezed shut in pain. leon sobs. you look so peaceful. death is peaceful, he supposes. in the golden haze of light and heaven or the dark nothingness of the empty there’s nothing else than can hurt you. no more monsters to jump out from behind corners and litter your body with even more scars. no more sleepless nights spent desperately trying to fight off any new nightmares. no more worry. no more agony.

guilt racks through leon’s body. you look so peaceful, but a selfish part of him wants you back. wants to keep you alive despite the suffering of life. wants to feel your heart beating when he falls asleep on your chest or your fingers tangled in his hair after a tough day or the warmth of your fingers as they gently massage the tension from out of his back and shoulder blades.

leon’s entire body shakes in anguish. leaning down, he presses his head against your chest, desperate to feel your heartbeat. a breath. anything.

“please…” he repeats. kneeling down on the cold concrete ground, crading your limp body in his arms, leon’s prayers go unanswered.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: Urgent messages from your shadow self 🕷🕸🖤

Please leave a tip if you can $$$

Trigger warning: These tarot cards contain graphic content (gore, syringes, etc.) and in this pac there is mentions of trauma, substance abuse, inner child wounds, etc. The tone of the words will also sound blunt because the shadow self is brutally honest. Viewer discretion is advised.

Pile 1:

Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé & Shakira

Special by Ashnikko

Black Swan by BTS

Four of Fire, Two of Air, & Daughter of Air.

(Clarified by Adjustment)

Your shadow self wants to urge you to find balance within yourself and your life. Perhaps you are someone who is constantly juggling with tasks, hobbies, or responsibilities. You are being a "jack of all trades, but a master of none". You don't know how to multitask and yet you are still trying to do it - why? You are overwhelming yourself. Take smaller steps vs trying to finish everything all at once. You are making yourself sink into this hole of frustation on your own. In the future, you will just make things more difficult if you persist in this charade of yours. Your shadow self is giving you a kick in the butt because you rely too much on charm when you mess up or to get away shit. Also your "white lies" could turn into big lies. If you needed a job per say, this behavior could have you looked down and be seen as unprofessional. There's a lot of visuals regarding the circus. Such as the acrobats or fire tamers. You are talented and witty. Use your wits to find ways to accomplish your goals. I am also being reminded of the scene from Mulan where she unsheaths her swords and you can see her reflection. Perhaps you have a duality to yourself that you are unaware of. You need to look into the lightness and darkness of your soul. What are your light or shadow attributes? Your strengths or weaknesses? Think of what they are and write it down, then create a plan. Once you have decided what to do or how you can make better decisions. You will start to make progress in your journey. The girl is walking on a tightrope with a stick and bowls(?) on her head. This could mean you literally need to "tighten up" which is an expression of handling your business basically. There is birds flying behind her. Your spirit guides and higher self are supporting you as you walk towards your destiny. Be patient and grounded. You will feel proud of yourself in the end and feel grateful you learned this lesson. (Clarifying song: Libra by The Deli) You could be someone with Libra placements or you need to surround yourself with people that are this sign. This could also mean embodying the traits of Libra. They are known for their balance, diplomacy, fairness, friendliness, & charm.

Pile 2:

Assassin by Au/Ra

Cellophane by FKA Twigs

Go To Sleep by Bearson ft. Kailee Morgue

Five of Water (reversed), Seven of Air, & Son of Earth

(Clarified by The Magus (reversed).)

Tsk tsk. You're self sabotaging. What's going on, pile 2? I feel like you're trying to get over past disappointments but things keep crumbling and falling apart in your very eyes. You could be dealing with depression right now or you're avoiding the world because of this fear of yours. You could be laying in bed a lot or sleeping more than usual to cope. Some of you could have gotten rejected by someone you really liked and are thinking the worse as if it's the end of your love life. There's over 8 billion people in the world, it's not the end unless you act like it is. There could be so much abundance ahead of you if you would just stopped being so inconsistent and indecisive. Reflect as to why you're afraid, why are you self sabotaging, why are letting your life past you by when there's a whole world out there ready to be explored? (Clairifying song: NO PROBLEM by Nayeon ft Felix of Stray Kids) Whatever you dealt with is not happening to you right now. You survived baby. Sometimes it's good to be single because you can focus on putting that love towards your own heart. Try to focus on having fun vs finding the "one". You'd be surprised by how many people will be knocking at your door when you realize how much of a catch you are. Also stop comparing yourself to people on social media. Learn to see past people's illusions and understand they only post the positives of what's going on their life because they're scared of being vulnerable or seen as a failure. You are gonna do just fine if you focus on your own happiness.

Pile 3:

Dëserve It by Yeat

I'm Not Sorry by imagine Dragons

Element. by Kendrick Lamar

Three of Earth, Eight of Water, & The Universe

(Clarified by The Fool)

You usin' work and self achievements to cope huh? You're always working so hard to accomplish things, but have you ever took a minute to realize that you are already accomplished even if you don't succeed? (Clarifying song: No L's by Smino) Why do you always need to win? What's so bad about losing? Loss can be scary, but it can teach us valuable lessons in life as well. You fear of being seen unsuccessful, a failure. You don't want to be the gossip in your town, at your job, or family functions. Everything you do, you just work and work. You not addressing the problems in your life. What are you working for? You have money, you have trophies, you have awards, you have a long list of achievements, you have your own place, but that is not healing you. Your valuables are just things. They are not fulfilling you emotionally or mentally. For some of you, you need to stop being a doormat just for the sake of a paycheck or being provided for. This could be someone at your job, school, etc, who is stressing you. Your shadow self wants to tell you to not let anyone make you act out of character but it also gives you permission to put a bitch in check and in their place if needed to. Start setting boundaries. You need to start treating yourself with love and care as if you were a baby. You deserve to be taken care of. Nurture your soul. Nurture your heart. Nurture your mind. If you're not protecting yourself then what is the point? Don't fall into the system of being a worker bee or give into hustling and grinding culture, to the point it's gonna harm your health.

Pile 4:

UNFUCKWITTABLE by Stunna Girl

Team by Iggy Azalea

Player by Tinashe

Ace of Water, Mother of Water, & Eight of Earth

(Clarified by The Star)

Okay so I had to reshuffle for this pile because I didn't take a picture of the first cards I got so I had to redo this, so this is the last spread I finished out of all the other piles. What's interesting is that since it's getting dark I had to turn on my led mirror and use it as a lamp. It was illuminating a light onto The Star card, which I find interesting. A wish fulfillment is on its way. You guys could be manifesting something or reciting affirmations in the mirror. In the song, Stunna Girl keeps saying "I'm a stunner girl" repeatedly, stunner means to be "a strikingly beautiful or impressive person or thing". Stunna Girl has also went viral and become more popular after appearing on the show "Baddies West". You could be growing into your confidence soon and learning to love yourself unconditionally and unapologetically. You could even become more popular or go viral on social media. For some of you, you are healing generational trauma for your female ancestors. They are so proud of you! Or you could come from a family with a lot of powerful, strong, independent women. In a patriarchal society, a woman who is outspoken, knows her worth, and is self assured, is looked down upon because they are less easy to humble and manipulate. Insecure men could paint you as a "bitch" or that you look "mid", to try to humble you when that is just lies. You need to know that you're a bad bitch and that you deserve the best. Your shadow self wants you to stand tf UP! Stop giving a fuck about what other people want you to do or think of you. Make them uncomfortable with your glow up. The women in your family worked and yourself as well have worked too god damn hard for you to sit on your ass and wallow in your tears. You are smart enough, you are strong enough, you are pretty enough, you are ENOUGH. Straighten up your spine and fix your posture. Walk into the room as if you own it. I don't care if you just rolled out of bed with a pair of stained sweatpants and dirty Chuck Taylor's on, you better rock it as if it's designer. Your shadow self will back hand your ass harder than Maddy slapped Cassie from Euphoria if you keep getting in your head and overthinking about shit that's not even that serious. Also, you can have anybody you want, if somebody is stressing you out - Drop their ass and move on. You deserve to be treated like royalty. Stop settling for dust! For some of you, this message could be specific, but your mother is very proud of you or you will be set free from a mother wound. You need to read a book (48 Laws of Power and The Art of Seduction for example) or head to the books if you are a student. Also in your love life, you will not be getting played anymore, but you will be the player (not talking about breaking people's hearts or cheating, calm down Karen 😮‍💨). You will stop chasing love interests and they will be chasing you. Secure attachment for the win 💪🏽. (Clarifying song: Eat It Up by Kaliii ft. BIA). Eat this shit up, pile 4. All this is yours. You are gonna be living your best life soon. NSFW message but some of you will also feel more pleasure in your sex life and will feel more confident about demanding what you want in the bedroom. People will live to please you. There is a lot of fertility here, so be careful if you are able to get pregnant.

Pile 5:

For The Record by Sophiya

Up All Night by Drake ft. Nicki Minaj

Energy by Beyoncé ft. BEAM

Father of Fire, Four of Air (reversed), & Nine of Water (reversed)

(Clarified by Seven of Fire)

You have a lot of passion, pile 5, but you seem to get burnt out easily when it comes to trying to achieve your desires. There is a goal that you are reaching towards that you so desperately wish to achieve to the point its keeping you up at night and causing you to feel restless. Some of you could smoke, you need to cut that down or quit all togerher because it is making your nerves really bad or making you even more anxious (could cause you to age physically faster as well). Some of you could have been ghosted by someone you fell in love with pretty quickly. Possible love bombing? There is a lot of highs and lows in this relationship. Is this a friends with benefits situation? You could have a crush on someone but you are too afraid to state your feelings, so you use your sex appeal to keep them around. You need to voice what you are wanting out of this relationship because this flame will only last so long if you keep going this way. (Clarifying song: My Strange Addiction by Billie Ellish) there is so much about "fire", "lighters", "matches", "fuses", and "smoke" being mentioned in this pile. Are you guys pyromaniacs 😂? I would hope not, if you are please seek help for that lol. If not, you guys could be drawn to the "fire" as in things that intentionally just burn you in the end. It's almost as if you get off to this toxic behavior but then when it ends, you act unstable. You need to find the courage to stop engaging in behaviors that are bad for your mental, emotional, or physical health. Also be brave when expressing your needs in a relationship, if they agree then maybe you can work it out, if not, then it's time to leave. Some of you also could have an anxious attachment or have a fear of abandonment due to a absent father. You need to do shadow work or talk with a therapist to heal that. Learn to find emotional fulfillment and security within yourself.

Pile 6:

Skinnydipped by Banks

Don't Recall by KARD

Sober by Mahalia

Are you overcoming an addiction, Pile 6? Or wanting to go sober? Either way, I commend you for the strength in wanting to do so, since I know that isn't easy. This could also mean your shadow self wants you to quit doing drugs or drinking alcohol because it is making you act manic. I feel like you were treated harshly growing up or you were left with the "vultures". You could have been neglected growing up and had to learn to survive. You could of used maldaptive daydreaming to cope. Your fantasies gave you comfort in a time of stress and turmoil. I'm so sorry for that, pile 6, but you have to understand you no one is out to get to you. You can choose a new story for yourself. You dont have to be a victim anymore. You are free to start a new life for yourself. Some of you came from abusive households or were put in the system at a young age (either you were adopted or was in foster care). You could have lived in multiple places or went from house to house as a child. Did you run away as a kid? Why were you running, sweetheart? You can stop running now, take a new route. Just peacefully go towards your new journey. There is no need to rush. (Clarifying song by Come Down by Anderson .Paak & They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y) by Pete Rock & C.L Smooth) October is significant for some of you. There is going to be growth and prosperity in your life. You need to take time to nurture yourself and practice some self care. I heard "sprout" so you need to look inwards and have a conversation with your inner child. Can you remember your childhood? Do your memories seem blurry or you can't recall anything that happened? Be kind to yourself and be patient. I know it can seem nerve wracking at first but overtime you will be grateful you did it. Think of your younger self as this seed, if no one watered the plant, gave it sunlight or natural light, or fed it with fertilizer, then you can be the first to make that seed grow. Tend to your garden. This will help you build character and gain optimism. You will start to think "Hey, you know what? Maybe life isn't so bad. Maybe I can be a somebody!" And you will :) ♡ You could also be feeling very nostalgic or reminisce your youth. People could also see your growth and remember as a kid, they are going to be surprised how successful you've become to overcome your hardships. Also try to seek the professional help of a therapist or counselor if you try to unpack childhood trauma, or if you can't remember your past, it can be a sign your brain is possibly blocking you out from remembering something traumatic. Be safe and take care, pile 6 🙏🏽

Pile 7:

Run by SAAY

Monster by EXO

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Nine of Fire, Five of Air, & The Empress (reversed).

(Clarifidd by Son of Water)

Oh my 😃! Wow pile 7, do you hold a grudge against the entire male population or a masculine in mind, it seems? You are acting mad bitter. I feel you have the tendecy to be a misandrist out of the trauma from your past. You feel angry that men can get away with their wrong doings while women are forced to suffer. Ironically, you are still attracted to them. You could be struggling with your divine feminine energy. You are also resenting what it means to be a "feminine". You wish to create this on your own terms. Are you apart of the LGBTQ? or consider yourself a feminist? Maybe even both? If you are someone who is a man or identifies with masculine energy, it could mean you behave feminine in a negative way (as in you "nag" or are too "sensitive"). This also reminds me of Jules in season 2 of Euphoria when she cut her hair, started wearing black, and began to feel comfortable in her androgynous style. Some of you guys are really mixed up emotionally and mentally. Like no offense, I take that back, your shadow self wants to say "full offense" - you are acting crazy. Slow down, take a deep breath, and let it go. You are valid in your pain and your emotions, but you cannot let this world make you bitter. You can't inflict pain onto other people just because you were hurt. You are not a monster, you are not the person who hurt you. Do better and be better than them. (Clarifying song: Close Your Eyes by Kim Petras & The Hills (remix) by The Weeknd ft. Nicki Minaj) I am being reminded of the scene from Doja Cat's Streets music video when she was like this spider crawling on it's web, catching their "prey" (the love interest). You are like a black widow. Beautiful to admire from afar, but dangerous to interact with up close. There is someone who is head over heels for you. You could like this person or are pushing them away out of fear. You could be the type of person who warns people before they fall in love with you (Watch the movie "It's A Thin Line Beyween Love & Hate"). You could have even sworn to never love again (Your shadow self: "bffr" 💀). You need to harness this hatred, anger, and darkness for a better cause. Use your pain as a passion to transform yourself and become someone magnificent. Like a spider, you are resourceful. Use your sources and use your intelligence to begin this new transformation. You're lashing out of fear. You're pushing people away because of your trauma. You deserve to be treated tenderly, you're not some scary creature. You are actually so empathetic, intuitive, creative, sensual, and enticing. A mystery that people want to unravel. You are a going to be a femme fatale in it's purest form.

Pile 8:

By Any Means by Jorja Smith

Feelings by Tinashe

Human by Sevdaliza

Five of Fire, Nine of Air, & The Moon

(Clarified by The Hierophant)

Pile 8, why are you ripping yourself apart to fit into society's pressures and demands? When will you realize that you are beautiful in your own way? I remember when Kendrick Lamar said: "If a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it?". Not every flower grows in the sunlight or the spring or the summer. Some grow during the harsh, cold weather of the winters or when everything falls in autumn. You are in competition with no one but yourself and you are not going to win this game if you treat yourself like shit. If you wanna be a winner, then you need to start acting like one vs acting like a sore loser. When things go wrong, you are so unnecessarily rude and hard on yourself. Why is that? Ask yourself these things next time you catch yourself thinking that way. You're not anything of the mean things you say about yourself or what people have said to you. You struggle with your insecurities and cling to what gives you comfort even though you know you want better than this, you want better than what you are currently doing. Why do you stick to the same routine everyday even though you know you want change? Sometimes you have to be uncomfortable so you can be comfortable. You may compare your beauty to other people but you need to realize no one is perfect. You are human, as the song goes. A human with "flaws, veins, scars". Embrace your imperfections. You don't want to look back at your past and regret you never took action on anything because you weren't "pretty" enough. Look past your appearance and look inside. (Life Goes On by BTS) What are you are clinging to, pile 8? Are you holding onto something? You're holding sanding at this point and it's slipping through your fingers, you are stuck in this hour glass, wishing to be released. Time keeps ticking and life passes you by. Break free from the perceptions of time and start living your life to the fullest without limitations, doubts, and fears. Life has its up and downs but you have to learn to find hope in dark times. Seek help from your shadow self or the universe when you are in need of faith. Trust the divine that things will always work out for you, no matter what.

Pile 9:

Let It Out by Rico Nasty

UCKERS by Shygirl

Ghetto Gatsby by Brent Faiyaz ft. Alicia Keys

Two of Love, Three of Air, & Eight of Water

(Clairifed by Ace of Air)

Time to end it with a bang 🤬🥊💥! Did you just go through a break up, pile 9? Whether it was with a friend or partner. You are internalizing a lot that happened from this relationship, honestly, you interalize everything. Your shadow self wants you to let out whatever you're feeling. Scream, shout, yell, etc. It is time to stop turning the other cheek and speak up. You also need to confront something or someone who hurt you. (Clarifying song: Fingers by Zayn & Roman's Revenge by Nicki Minaj ft. Eminem) Ugh this person is so LAMEEE 😒🙄 Once you finally get over this connection, they will want to come back and talk to you about what happened. You or this person could have been writing text messages but never sending them. This conversation will be your chance to gain clarity and communicate about how you felt in your relationship. This will help you move on and also allow you to learn to stand up for yourself.

[volivolition]

If able, could we get an update on any of your writings? I loved hearing about them (Not forcing, ofc!)

YOU SURE CAN ANON!! again, as with all of these asks, thank you so much for being interested in my work??? i LOVE talking about my silly fics <333

here's a rough timeline of all my fics btw!! i thought it'd be fun to visualize hkgj i'll be talking a little about all the ones i haven't yet talked about!!

Preface, here's all my fic wips as explained before!! and all my writing can be found in my #inland drabbles tag! ask 1, ask 2!

Message to All Bitches: Please Survive - This funny title has been the name for a while, but I think if I had to choose a serious one, it'd be "Should the Stars Go Out" :3 This is my most ambitious project of all my skill wips, I think, due to the medium i intend on telling it in (it is. technically not a fic?? hkjg) this is also my most secretive project hkgj <33 word count(?) is 2908!!

Meet the Parts that Make You - Kim meeting the Skills fic, though it's mostly been abandoned by now hkgj well, not abandoned, i still really love the concept? but I need to get a bunch of these other fics done first (Let's Make It a Home for worldbuilding, Swept Up for character studies) so I can get everything correct, before introducing it all to Kim hkgjg <33 Nevertheless, word count is 5459!

The Sunrise Momentum - Mostly abandoned, but i still froth at the fuckin mouth thinking about it RAUGHHH. HOLY VOWS. waking up, getting out of bed with depression, that part of you that wants you to live, caring about you so so so fucking much. this hypothetical fic hits very close to home <3 i promise i will keep you alive, as long as you're there to wake up every morning. willpower and devotion. volition is kind of everything to me did you know that? hkgjg current word count: 331 <3

Who Are You, If Not... - Esprit De Corps centered fic! i wrote a lot about it in this ask, but basically: hey, if Harry leaves the RCM, what the fuck happens to Esprit? i have some personal feelings about leaving a community that only used you for what you could give them. to keep going back, trying to check on them time and time again, even when they hurt you. it's cathartic to put it in the perspective of this fic, i think :] also i just think the psyche group is fun for discussions hgkjg esprit, my darling community skill!! current word count: 1497

When Two Skills Love Each Other Very Much - again, funny silly title hgkjg but i think its serious name would be, like, Summer Solace or something? brightest day of the year, sunrise parabellum. hypothetical child of volition and echem, she's hope, y'know? small and trying to grow. something to carefully tend to, to keep alive, and in turn she will keep you alive. this fuckin. symbolism raguguhh i love you baby solace you are MY ANGELLLLLLLLL!!!!!! <333

I THINK THIS FIC IS SO SWEET I LOVE THE SKILLS TRYING TO RAISE A KID HGKJG im so.. it's like how Let's Make It Home redux, the skills are kinda dysfunctional, but they've grown and they're getting better too and they're trying to work together towards a common goal, and together they can do it. i think they've gotten a lot better about working together!! and they all care for this kid a lot <333

Here's a snippet because oh my god i am fond of them (not in AO3 ready format though hkjg)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY presses a tentacle to his cheek to prop up the grin on his face - Hey, man, we've never raised a kid before. Give us *some* credit, at least. VOLITION holds Solace to his chest. She sleeps peacefully, starbright face pressed to his armor at his heart - I am. I think -- despite all the mishaps -- we've been covering all our bases surprisingly well. We wouldn't have been able to do this when we woke up in Martinaise, is all I'm saying here. VOLITION looks up and exchanges a fond glance with Electrochemistry - We've... all grown a lot, haven't we?

^ like hey. if you uh. compare that last volition line to the last volition line in the snippet i shared for unstoppable force? where now volition cannot only meet echem's eye, but LET HIMSELF FEEL AFFECTION FOR HIM?? oh my GOD the parallels, the character growth, i WILL PERISH.

i still do think this fic would be better as a comic hkgjg it feels like a good story to cap it off, and if i ever get the rest of these fics done, i'd want to end on it if i could hkjgg <33 LOOK AT THEIR CHARACTER ARCS. LOOK AT THEM FINDING JOY. GIVING THEM A HAPPY ENDING HKJG

that's about it, i think!! thank you for reading!! (and holy fuckin shit if you've read all of these i will. die for you now. i really appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my rambles, i love you hgkjg <33)

[styllwaters]

351 / GAZI-MIAH

At last this monster of a ref is finished. Introducing the first canon Knight character for Vivere 44!

351 is a mountain Knight from Ferhaht, though their host is part Fejga; hence the brown fur and stocky build. They act as the secondary antagonist in parts 1 and 2 of the story. In part 3, the final 'season', they feature as a protagonist. 351 starts out as a ruthless, aggressive soldier working for Genizix, intent on completing the mission assigned to them. Under the direction of their officer, 909, 351 has been dispatched to quickly and efficiently eliminate targets who threaten to expose the company's activities in the Zhagaviit galaxy.

Eventually they come to realise that they are being manipulated by both the weapons company and their abusive superior, and in part 2 351 challenges 909. Their fight results in 351 gaining an array of scars and a terrifying near-death experience, and though they survive, they are permanently mentally separated. Unable to go into the Trance which binds the consciousnesses of the Helmet and the Host, they must learn how to work together as two people again. 351 escapes to their homeplanet of Ettera, surviving in the wild as they race against time to deliver an important message and rediscover who they are. During part 3, they discard their identification number and take on a new name, Gazi-miah.

More in-depth lore, facts, and extra art below the cut!

BACKSTORY

[cw: abuse, drug use, general dark themes]

351 was always told that they were born in Genizix like 909, though this is not the case at all. 351 had a life before they were turned into a killing machine, living on the Ihmna Stretch with their Ferhahti order. Their life was upturned on the day of their scouting Expedition, a journey that all Knight squires must take on before they can become full soldiers (More on Knight social structure here). They were tasked to deliver a message to an allied order along with two other temporary scouts. Upon arrival, however, instead of friendly greetings they were met with a chilling scene - the order was being attacked by another, the two groups set against each other in a fearsome battle. The fight was secretly orchestrated by Genizix in a plot to evaluate the strongest soldiers to recruit to their cause, unbeknownst to anyone but them. Feeling that it was necessary to aid their allies, 351 and their peers rushed into battle. They fought fiercely, but the young Knights were up against fully-fledged soldiers and 351's companions perished. 351 themselves was severely injured, and in the aftermath, blacked out - but not before catching a glimpse of strange figures.

When they awoke, they were not on Ettera any more; rather an unfamiliar place with black walls and machines. They could barely remember anything from the night before; and slowly the rest of their memories on their homeplanet receded as Genizix toxins that they were injected with took effect. Later, 351 would be introduced to 909, an experienced Knight officer with an extensive history of working for Genizix, and placed in their unit. They were assigned a number for a name and moulded into the perfect killing machine. 909 fed 351 a constant stream of lies about where they came from, and like all soldiers recruited into the system, promised that in fighting for the company they had a chance to participate in something greater than themselves; to see the real universe outside of Zhagaviit. But 351 was driven more by fear than the potential for glory. They had seen what happened to those who disobeyed the higher-ups, and what could happen to them if they did not complete the missions.

909 stripped 351 of their individuality and left nothing but brute force and a desire to please. What the agent feared more even than Genizix was invoking 909's anger, so they pushed themselves to do any dirty work asked of them. The organisation became their whole world, their 'family', and 909 made sure they could never leave their clutches - manipulating them, threatening them and twisting their worldview. The process was sped up by specialised toxins designed by Genizix intended to distort perception and slow brain activity, inducing a dreamlike state. On Knights, this had the effect of triggering and enhancing the Trance, making it incredibly difficult for one to mentally separate the helmet from the host. With time 351 came to believe that they were one person, and they had no reason to think otherwise as their exposure to information was carefully controlled. 351 was conditioned to see their targets as non-sophont and they were rewarded for using cruel tactics. The more time they spent with 909, the more they began to lose their sense of self entirely until they were nothing but a weapon. Such is the fate of most soldiers who have wound up working for Genizix.

Despite the deep emotional (and physical) scarring and conditioning, during the events of Vivere 44 seeds of doubt are planted in 351's minds. These would only germinate further as they gain more clarity of their situation. Standing up to 909 was the first step they took towards breaking free of their chains, although it came with a cost. 351's host was physically Separated from their helmet in the fight, an injury which in most cases is lethal. They were repaired by a scientist who stitched them back together and managed to salvage a sliver of the bond which connected their minds. 351 could never enter the Trance again, though the helmet and host could still exchange thoughts between each other. As they were two separate entities now, the helmet guides the blind host with directions.

Instructed by the scientist (an Arrow named Nimbus, who will be introduced later) 351 left the facility on a new mission - to deliver an urgent message to Jes-ren, a Kaata Plains Knight living on a Ranch on Ettera. They traversed the land they once called home, now unfamiliar to them, relearning how to work together as a pair that might as well be complete strangers to each other. They recover their memories; or at the very least parts of it, as they cannot remember their original name. However, they gain a new one; Gazitkaar-Miahlad [meaning: lost messenger / returned to us].

The road is long and tremendously difficult; Gazi-miah struggles to unlearn years of aggression, addiction and lies, all the while carrying immense trauma. They eventually find peace, and settle down with Jes-ren in Kaat following the climax.

PERSONALITY

During their time at Genizix, agent 351 picked up on a lot of nasty habits and traits from 909 who brought out their worst attributes. They became merciless, taught to discard feelings and remorse. 351 was not afraid to make a show of their strength, and at times was needlessly cruel and taunting. The toxins affecting their nervous system tended to spur on their host's prey drive to a concerning degree, and a part of them enjoyed the power trip they got from hunting down targets. Though everything they did, they did for 909's approval - and to avoid getting disposed of by Genizix.

When their host and helmet were Separated, and the effects of the toxins wore off, gradually their aggressive attributes took a backseat as they grappled with their new situation. With great effort they gain an understanding of both the horrors they went through and the atrocities they committed for the sake of a corrupted system.

Once they escape Genizix's hold, it becomes clear that 351 is incredibly socially inept and any interaction that isn't violence or taking orders is new territory for them. Freedom and agency are difficult concepts for them to grasp, but with the aid of others around them they begin to adjust to their new life.

The helmet, Miahlad (my-a-lad) is the more practical of the two. He has one goal in mind; keeping the both of them safe. Miah is resourceful and smart, though when it comes to social interaction he's just as clueless as his host. This doesn't stop him from offering advice via their mind-link. He is firm, distrustful, and judgemental, but cares deeply for Gazitkaar even if he won't say it. At first he is reluctant to uncover the truth in fear that it will harm them both, preferring to stick to familiar ground. Despite his realistic worldview, more than once he considers going back to Genizix due to the simple fact that it's all they've ever known - even if it hurt them. As a helmet he cannot speak out loud but relearns sign language to communicate with other knights.

The host, Gazitkaar (gaz-it-car) is constantly questioning everything. She is less focused on the personal safety and wellbeing of the Knight body and more concerned with the wider truth, always seeking to know more. Gazi is not one to back down from a challenge, whether it be traversing dangerous territory or mastering a new skill. But like Miah, she is averse to touch, and will bite if boundaries are pushed far enough. She is more open to listening than her helmet, and is a fast learner. Though she is more adaptable than Miah, her curiosity can sometimes go unchecked and lead them into trouble.

EXTRAS

They are 37 years old and tower over everyone, including other Knights. Their prescence could fill a whole room.

The engraved bone necklace was given to them by a Polar Knight commander from Ehtte Thannoeh where they first landed on Ettera. The carving depicts an Aikka deity whose horn always points northwards, and is said to watch over lost travelers from the northern lights.

Gazi-miah's piercings were put in by the scientist Nimbus, intended to firmly fix the helmet to the host.

As a Genizix agent their build is very toned and muscular due to their intense training and strength-enhancing substances which also speed up wound recovery. Such a lifestyle was placing immense stress on their body, and as they spent more time on Ettera they gained more weight and adopted a healthier diet.

Their build and design is inspired by bulls and rottweilers.

Their fur is spiky due to chemicals and unnatural cleaning products resulting in an unpleasant, rough texture. In the future it becomes softer thanks to proper grooming.

Here's some of the first concept art I have of them (and also showcases their pelt colours better)

Aaand a simplified version of the ref without all the notes for your viewing pleasure.

I'll stop here before this post gets insanely long but if you have any questions I shall be delighted to answer!! ;] Thanks for listening to my tedtalk

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 15 - Summer: The Meeting

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette finally have that long-awaited meeting with Furina.

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette swimming with Scylla

Previous | Next

“So, with all the pleasantries out of the way, let’s talk about finally publicizing your marriage.”

You just barely managed to avoid choking your tea when you heard those words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette stiffen.

The long-awaited meeting—or the “tea party,” as Furina had insisted on calling it—had been going surprisingly well up until this point. Admittedly, your opinion of Furina hadn’t been very high as of late, but she proved to be a gracious, winsome hostess (even though, considering this was Neuvillette’s office, shouldn’t the two of you act as the hosts?) and a witty conversationist who kept things going smoothly. She congratulated you on your marriage, complimented your dress and purse and immediately noticed Neuvillette’s matching brooch. She asked you to show her your wedding ring and declared to be utterly plain (which wasn’t exactly wrong). She even asked after your family. There’s a reason why she’s considered Fontaine’s superstar, you thought in admiration.

As expected, she asked how you and Neuvillette met. You told her the truth: that you had met at a ball and went on several dates together. Of course, you happened to leave out the fact that all those meetings were brief and happened within a month’s span, but who cared about the details, right?

But what really raised her in your esteem was the fact that she actually recalled your great-grandparents’ meeting with her from more than a century ago.

“Ah, yes, I remember them. They asked me to give my blessing for their unborn child, I believe,” she said, tilting her head as though in recollection.

You nodded. As the story passed down in your family goes, your great-grandmother had been a sickly woman, and there were serious worries that she wouldn’t be able to survive the birth. As devotees of the Hydro Archon, your great-grandparents made the decision to travel all the way to the Court of Fontaine from their remote village in hopes of receiving a blessing from her. The arduous journey and wait paid off, and your great-grandmother lived to see her son grow to adulthood.

“It is all thanks to you, Lady Furina,” you said, bowing your head respectfully. “Even now, my family still speaks highly of you and what you’ve done for us.”

“I see. How very gladdening to hear!” Furina’s voice was bright, almost to the extent of sounding fake. For a moment, you thought you saw her smile falter just a little. Did I say something wrong, you worried, but when you looked again, her expression was as smooth and unruffled as ever.

You told yourself, not for the first time, to stop overthinking and reading into every little thing. The meeting was going well. It was supposed to be hour-long and half an hour had already passed. Plus, there were snacks (apparently this meeting coincided with Furina’s morning tea time), which you were secretly thankful for as you had been too nervous to eat much for breakfast that morning.

Yes, everything was going swimmingly, and if luck was on your side, you might not have to see Furina ever again after today. You could spend the rest of this marriage in peace and obscurity. All you had to do was to be so utterly dull and uninteresting that just the thought of you would induce a yawn, which wasn’t exactly a difficult task for you, but…

You should have known that nothing was ever so easy.

Furina looked between the two of you when neither of you spoke. She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Anything to say?”

Neuvillette cleared his throat. He had been twirling the stem of his cup in his hand as Furina spoke mainly with you, occasionally taking a sip from it. He was mostly quiet for the first half of the meeting, but you could feel his readiness to jump in at any moment should you need it. This was that moment.

“Furina, I do believe we’ve already made it clear that we wish to keep our marriage as private as possible.”

“Oh, sure, I can sympathize with wanting privacy. The paparazzi can be absolutely ravenous sometimes. I can only imagine how much more irksome they would be if they catch wind of this story. But still, there is no reason to completely hide it, especially when it’ll be found out anyways. Now, we could do a slow unveiling to a small group of close associates first before announcing it to all Fontainians. For instance—”

As Furina prattled on about all the engagement announcements she had witnessed in her time, you bit into a pink macaron and proceeded to wash it down with more tea. However, the sweet pastry now tasted like sawdust in your mouth. Your stomach was twisted in knots. You and Neuvillette needed to come up with a good excuse to get out of this.

As your mind raced in circles, you suddenly felt a weight on your hand and looked down. Neuvillette’s gloved hand was on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You hadn’t realized it was shaking until now.

Raising your head, you were met with Neuvillette’s violet eyes, silently reassuring you. You felt some of the tension leave your body.

Yes, it will be alright. You were married to the one person in Fontaine who could push back against Furina and get away with it, after all.

“…So, what do you say? Something intimate will suffice, like, say, an exclusively attended ball where only the most elite of Fontaine’s social scene are invited. Oh, I can just picture it now—Neuvillette with an unfamiliar lady on his arm, only to introduce her to everyone as his wife! Ah, I can just imagine the ladies’ reaction when that moment arrives!” Furina chuckled to herself as she scooped a mound of sugar cubes into her tea. “Or perhaps Madame Neuvillette would prefer something more casual, like a ladies’ salon.”

“There will be nothing of the sort. I do not understand why you’re so insistent upon the publicization of my marriage in the first place. It will not affect how I do my job, and I do not believe it is something that is of concern to anyone,” Neuvillette said, an impatient note creeping into his voice.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” Furina shook her head in disappointment, as though scolding a child. “You’re missing the point. The people would be thrilled to hear that their solitary Chief Justice has finally found love after all this time. It would bring you closer to them, for what humanizes a person more than falling in love? Plus, it’ll give everyone the exc—I mean, opportunity to share in your newfound happiness by celebrating it!”

Bringing Neuvillette closer to the people? Was that why Furina kept pestering him to marry? Was he suffering from low popularity ratings or something?

“That sounds rather excessive. Would the people truly care so much about whether or not I am married?”

Furina shook her head again. You found yourself sympathizing with her a little despite everything. “Ugh, I’m not going to argue with you on this. But honestly, you’re not even going to tell the Duke or Clorinde? It’s not as though they’re the gossiping types.”

You were quite sure that Clorinde already had an idea, but who was this Duke?

“No, not even them,” Neuvillette said, but you saw his fingers twitch just once under the table.

“How odd. I’m sure your dear Melusines have all already been informed from the very start, so it isn’t as though you’re keeping it completely secret. Don’t you think that’s unfair to the humans who place their trust in you?”

Neuvillette blinked, as though that had never occurred to him.

Furina took this opportunity to press further. “Neuvillette, don’t tell me you intend to keep your marriage secret forever! Do you plan on never being seen in public with your wife? Did you swear her entire family to secrecy as well? What a dreadful prospect! Have you even considered how she might feel about that? You’re almost like a tyrannical lord from an opera, keeping your wife hidden away from the world in a tall tower.” She looked at you critically. “She does not appear particularly frail or delicate to me. Whatever could be the reason for this?”

“She is not hidden or imprisoned in any way. Madame is free to go wherever she likes. It is only that…” Neuvillette trailed off. You saw the muscles in his jaw working. He must be trying to come up with an acceptable excuse.

You were doing the same. Honestly, you could see where Furina was coming from. If I look at our marriage from an outsider’s point of view…it definitely raises a few questions.

“Oh, there’s no need to say anything more. I know exactly what’s going on here.” Furina leaned forward, and you resisted the urge to squirm in your seat. Had she caught on to the truth?

She pointed her teaspoon at Neuvillette. “You’re too selfish!”

“Huh?” you couldn’t help but exclaim. Neuvillette, selfish? Those two words didn’t belong in the same sentence.

“Selfish may be too harsh of a word. Perhaps…inflexible? Unable to change? Well, putting that aside, I have hoped that being in a romantic relationship might have forced you to change your ways, but I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s difficult to change when you’ve been distanced from humans for so long. But, fear not, I, the Regina of All Waters and All Peoples, shall help you in this endeavour. I’ll save this failing marriage!”

“Failing marriage…?” Neuvillette repeated slowly.

“It’s not failing yet, but in my opinion, it is certainly heading in that direction if nothing changes. I’ve witnessed many a divorce in my day, and I can tell you that many of them are caused by prioritizing one’s desires over one’s spouse. After all, isn’t that what love is about? Sacrificing your own comfort for the one you love? You married this woman because you love her, yes? Surely you’d do anything for her?”

Oh, Archons. She’s cornered Neuvillette in a tough spot. If he said yes, he would not only be lying to his superior, but also opening the door to a whole new set of complications that would be difficult to get through. But if he said no, well…

Either way, it would only raise suspicions.

“I…” Neuvillette was blinking rapidly. You saw him briefly glance at you, saw his fingers clench and unclench around the stem of his cup. Even taking his time to answer this question was enough to be suspect.

You had to step in. “Your concern is greatly appreciated, Lady Furina, but there is no need for you to worry about us. I’m perfectly content with the way things are. Neither of us are the type to enjoy socializing very much, so this arrangement is perfect for me. I have no desire to force him to do things that cause him discomfort.”

Furina stared at you for a moment. You tried your best to hold her gaze and look resolute, but her heterochromatic eyes disconcerted you. It felt as though they were probing you for all your secrets, turning out all of your lies. Or maybe you were falling into them as one was falling into an abyss.

I never lied, you reminded yourself. I’ve only told the truth. It’s not my fault if she doesn’t like it.

Her reaction, however, was completely unexpected.

“You poor thing!” she exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest. “It’s worse than I expected. I can only imagine how difficult it has been for you! No wonder you two barely seem like a loving couple. Ah, but there is no need to suffer in silence for any longer, for I, the God of Justice, shall serve as your advocate.”

You felt your mouth dropping open in shock. What was she talking about? You took another glance at Neuvillette and saw that he looked as clueless as you felt.

Furina continued, heedless of your confusion. “Born into an impoverished family, overlooked on the marriage market and almost forced into eternal spinsterhood—what an unfortunate life you’ve lived! And just when it seemed that you’ve attained lifelong happiness and freedom by attaining the affections of the most eligible bachelor in Fontaine and having him marry you, you’re stuffed away in his house like an old antique, forced to cater to his whims out of the fear that he’ll cast you aside if you displease him. Oh yes, I understand perfectly now. It’s something out of a classic romance novel. But do not fret, my dear lady, I shall ensure that Neuvillette shapes up and becomes a proper husband who will spoil you as you deserve!”

Impoverished? I suppose a god would have a different standard of wealth, but still… You had heard of other noble families that were forced to sell off their estates and assets and live on the charity of relatives just to pay off their debts. She isn’t entirely wrong about the other stuff, although I wouldn’t describe being a spinster as a “doom.”

“Furina—” Neuvillette began, but she cut him off.

“My dear Iudex, I know that the whole ‘aloof and mysterious’ persona has done wonders for your popularity among women, but that will not do at all in a romantic relationship! You have to be straightforward and overt in your affections. You must prioritize your wife along with your job. Have you showered her with gifts and compliments? Have you told her you love her every single day? The dress and purse are a good start—” you decided to keep silent about the fact that you were the one who had bought those items (though it was with Neuvillette’s money, so in a roundabout way, he did buy them for you)— “But there needs to be more extravagance. And dates! I know very well that you can easily rearrange your schedule to allow for a date every week. And as for physical affection…well, I shall not broach a couple’s privacy, but I believe the research materials I’ve provided you with should supply ample ideas.”

She gave you two a meaningful look. If you were in a more proper state of mind, you might have blushed at what she was suggesting. Instead, you felt like you had just been assailed by a series of tidal waves.

“Ah, perhaps I’m expecting too much from your very first romantic relationship,” Furina nodded, even as you reeled from that revelation. Did that mean Neuvillette had only ever had one-night stands? That seemed terribly unlikely, but you didn’t know much about his love life in the first place. “Oh well, I’ll just have to guide you more firmly. What do you say to weekly meetings regarding this topic?”

“Furina, I understand that you believe you have good intentions, but you haven’t the right to—”

 “As a matter of fact, I think I do. After all, you never would have even thought of marrying this woman if it weren’t for me, right?”

“I…cannot deny that.”

“That’s right. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be moping around all by yourself, never knowing that you could have attained happiness if you simply put yourself forward. Well, I won’t let you ruin it, now that you have it. And you,” Furina turned her attention to you. “You should not be afraid to demand more from Neuvillette. You hold the heart of the Chief Justice in your hands, after all. Have more confidence! He’s too much of a recluse, you know, and hardly spends time with the people, even though they’re so eager to get to know him. Any woman would be eager to show off such a prize of a husband. What’s stopping you? You can’t spend your whole life being a wallflower, you know.”

Wallflower. Now that was a word you heard far too many times throughout your life. The painful memories you tried so hard to lock away came flooding back. Sitting near the wall, waiting in desperation, hoping…

“You truly have gone too far, Furina,” Neuvillette was glaring at her, his jaw clenched. His hand was still gripping yours. “It is one thing to criticize me, but it is another to speak in such a way to Madame.”

Even though Furina was accusing him of being someone he wasn’t, even though he could simply tell her the truth to clear this up, he was determined to defend you and your dignity until the very end.

A rush of guilt, accompanied by shameful relief, welled up inside you. The fabric of your dress scratched at your skin, as though you were wearing a burlap sack instead of a pretty frock. Sweat beaded your back, even though it was cool in the room.

If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If only you had been more prepared, more eloquent, perhaps you could have come up with a satisfying explanation for everything. If you were prettier, more charming—someone who wasn’t you, then Neuvillette wouldn’t be…

My dear child, are you hearing yourself right now? Your old teacher’s voice, chiding but playful, sounded in your head. It felt like a cool, refreshing wind. Take a pause and look at this objectively.   

She was right. You were being irrational. Neuvillette hadn’t been forced to marry you. He chose you of his own accord, knowing full well who you were and what he was getting into, and you accepted his proposal. This marriage was temporary from the start. Reasonably, you shouldn’t be heeding Furina’s words, as they didn’t apply to your marriage.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you felt. It was clear that what Furina was truly looking for was entertainment, despite all of her claims to the contrary about wanting him to find happiness. You and Neuvillette were like puppets on a wooden stage for her to manipulate as she saw fit.

Having to adapt to circumstances beyond your control was one thing, but being made to dance to the whims of someone else, just because they believed they had the right to do so, was infuriating.

You promised him once that you would make sure his life remained as unchanged as possible, and you were more determined than ever to keep it.

And long before that, you had promised yourself that you would never be beholden to anyone, that you would walk your own path, under your own power.

Furina was still speaking. “What a shame, I have hoped that marriage might induce you to change your ways, but alas… do at least think of your poor wife. Do you truly want her to wither away in your house, unable to flourish?”

At the beginning of this meeting, you had been somewhat awed by being in the presence of the Hydro Archon, but now that awe was being replaced by indignance.

“As the wife in question, may I say something?” your words came out sharper than you expected. You straightened up in your seat, making your back ramrod straight and looking directly at Furina. Anger roiled in the pit of your stomach, but you reminded yourself to watch your tongue. Even Neuvillette wouldn’t be able to protect you if you spoke too much out of turn.

“Yes?” Furina nodded towards you, leaning back in her chair. “Go on, what is it?”

“I shall be blunt here, Lady Furina. I have no need for your pity. As Neuvillette has repeated over and over, we are perfectly fine as we are. I think you’re completely overstepping your bounds, and I ask you to stop immediately.”

Furina blinked, the flippant composure she had giving way to shock. “What?” she said at last.

“It is true that if it isn’t for your constant encouragement, Neuvillette and I would never have married. But that will be the extent of your involvement in our relationship. The only people who will make the decisions in our relationship are the two of us. If you don’t like it, then I apologize for any unpleasant feelings we’ve caused, but we shall continue as we are. We won’t entertain any arguments on this matter.”

“Wait,” Furina had been snapped out of her shock and was now leaning forward, looking between the two of you. “Don’t tell me that you honestly intend to keep this marriage a secret forever? What is the point of getting married, then?”

“As the one who pressed for this marriage in the first place, Lady Furina, I’m sure you can wager a guess. Neuvillette has done what you asked, and that should be the end of it. You have no idea how much pressure he has been placed under because of you. And…” you took a breath here. When was the last time you had spoken with such vigor? “…I would much rather a relationship where we are honest with each other about what we want, rather than living a pretense because that’s what’s expected of us.”

You expected punishment to rain down on you swiftly. Furina had been known to have people tried at the opera house for far lesser offences, after all. Would she summon your family to the trial? Would she throw you into the sea instead of sending you to the Fortress of Metropide? How strange, you should be feeling petrified right now, but all such emotions seemed to have wilted away in the face of the burning conviction that filled your heart.

You weren’t, however, expecting Furina to simply stare at you, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Was she plotting something? Despite that, you stared back at her resolutely.

Perhaps some other god was watching over you then, for the clock chimed the hour. The meeting was over.

You stood up, straightened your skirt, and curtsied. “Thank you for the tea and cakes, Lady Furina,” you said politely. “Neuvillette and I shall take our leave now.”

Furina said nothing as you walked towards the door.

I messed up. I messed up. I messed up.

Right now, you were huddled in a corner of the main lobby, sandwiched between bookshelves. A book you randomly picked out laid on your lap. Being surrounded by books always had a therapeutic effect on you, but it wasn’t working today.

The tight, angry knot in your stomach still hadn’t loosened, although it was now accompanied by unease.

You didn’t regret what you said—it needed to be said—but you were worried about the consequences of your sharp tongue on the lives of Neuvillette and your family.

You should have thought over your words more carefully. You should have anticipated this. You should have prepared better so that it would have never come to this. You should have…

I’m sure…I must have embarrassed Neuvillette terribly back there.

Speaking of Neuvillette, he had not followed you out of the office. In fact, it had been nearly half an hour since you left. You surmised that he was probably cleaning up after your outburst. He had said before that part of the reason he picked you to be his wife was because of your similar temperaments—no doubt he was regretting those words now.

A sigh slipped out of you. You didn’t regret what you said, but you would be the first to admit that you had been presumptuous. If you made things between him and Furina awkward, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was having second thoughts about marrying you.

Already, the gears in your mind were whirring, coming up with a backup plan. I hear it can take months for a divorce to be finalized…but since Neuvillette is the Chief Justice, he probably has ways to speed things up. I hope he’ll at least give me time to find a new place to live… It’ll be quite difficult to find somewhere affordable in the city. Maybe I’ll try the Fleuve Cendre after all. Marie says it’s actually not too bad down there, as long as you know the right people and keep your head down. I can ask her to recommend a place for me. It won’t be long until winter, and I barely know anyone in the city anyways, so it should be fine…the only issue is mail…

“Madame.”

A voice broke through your aimless reverie. You looked up and saw Neuvillette’s face, etched with worry. His lips were tightly pressed together, and there was a deep furrow between his brows. He looked visibly relieved when he saw you sitting there with your book.

You elected to get straight to the point. “Will we be divorcing soon?”

“Divorce?” his eyes widened in shock. “No, of course not. What brought this on?”

“I, well…” you squirmed under Neuvillette’s intense gaze. Funny, now you were nervous. “It’s just that…I did make somewhat of a scene back there, and Lady Furina probably hates me now, and…”

Listening to yourself now, you were beginning to realize you had a propensity for jumping to conclusions. You cleared your throat. “…So, anyways, what held you up for so long?”

“Furina and I had a long, serious talk about her words today. I’ve made it clear that she has no control over our marriage. You were entirely right, Madame, and she knows it. It was not her place to control what two individuals in a private relationship ought to do. I suppose that hearing it from someone unfamiliar like you had more of an impact on her than from me.”

“Oh, I see…” you nodded as you mentally re-evaluated your impression of the relationship between Furina and Neuvillette. You had assumed that she was the one always ordering him around, but it seems that there was more of a push-and-pull than you thought.

“I do not believe she will bother us much for the foreseeable future,” Neuvillette reassured you. He looked straight into your eyes. “Worry not, Madame. Our arrangement is to stay married for a year until you obtain your license. I have no intention of reneging on it, nor let anyone interfere with it. We shall remain husband and wife until the time comes.”

“I-I’m relieved to hear that,” you stammered, taken aback by the ardor in his voice. “You were looking so worried just now that I thought something bad might have happened.”

“I was?” Neuvillette sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours. “Forgive me, I was unaware. It was only that…”

He trailed off as he looked at you, his eyes seemingly probing you for something. “…I’ve never seen you like that before,” he said at last. “You’re always so calm and rational…I did not know that you could become so furious.”

“Did I look that angry?”

“It wasn’t your face, exactly, but I can sense your emotions…” Seeing you look at him questioningly, he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I could feel the anger radiating from you. Yes, that’s it.”

“I see…” you answered, mentally noting what he said about sensing emotions. A Sumeru girl from the boarding house you lived in before once claimed that she could see auras. Was it something like that? “I hope I didn’t ruin your day or anything like that.”

“Nonsense. I have seen much worse in court regularly.” He paused there, before adding, almost shyly, “I must admit, it was enthralling to see another side of you. …And, Madame?”

 “Hmm?”

“Thank you.” a corner of Neuvillette’s mouth lifted slightly. “You’re always so considerate of me, even when I’ve hardly been a good husband to you.”

You furrowed your brow at his words. Had Neuvillette internalized what Furina said, even though they came from a place of ignorance?

As you looked into his apologetic eyes, you thought you were beginning to understand him a little bit more now. He was the sincere, earnest type who took what was said to him to heart.

Any lingering regrets over your outburst have all but dissipated now.

You put your hand on his shoulder. He looked down at it. He always seemed surprised whenever you touched him, but he never moved away or told you off. To be honest, you were surprised at yourself—you generally kept your hands to yourself and preferred that others did the same. But something about Neuvillette made you want to reach out to him, so that you could convey your thoughts to him better.

“There’s no need to thank me,” you told him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “We needed to put on a united front, and it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me. And don’t take what Lady Furina said to heart—you’re a wonderful husband, and I’m sure that your future, real, spouse would be the luckiest person in the world.”

“Future spouse?” Neuvillette repeated, his head tilted to the side in confusion. He sounded almost distracted.

“Um…it’s also fine if you don’t want to get married,” you hurriedly corrected yourself. “I just meant that hypothetically, if you were to marry for real, then…well, just forget it! Let’s go shopping now, shall we? It won’t take long. I already know which store to go to.”

You swiftly got up and proceeded to go to the main hall. There weren’t many people there, luckily. You placed your hand on the door handle.

Neuvillette shook his head slightly, as though emerging from a reverie. “Wait, Madame,” he called out after you. “It’s—”

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the torrential downpour just outside.

Due to the unexpected heavy weather, you and Neuvillette decided to go shopping by carriage instead.

It was just as well, you thought at the time. We’ll get less attention this way.

After all that talk about maintaining your privacy, it would be terribly ironic if the two of you went out in public without a care in the world and were discovered now.

Your destination was the largest department store in the Court of Fontaine. It was to your sister Justine what the museum was to you. Whenever she took a trip to the city, it was always her first stop. She even had their catalogs delivered back home for her to pore over with her friends. She would cut out all the shoes she wanted and add them to the collage that was hung up over her bed. In her letters to you, she had not-so-subtly hinted how much she would love a new pair of dancing slippers. Well, her wish was about to be granted.

A smile played on your lips as you imagined her reaction. Though she was the princess of the family, she grew up conscious of the fact that your family wasn’t well off and was just as happy with the homemade and second-hand presents as she was with the new ones. But now you could finally spoil her as she deserved.

You glanced at Neuvillette. He was looking out the window, at the gray streets. He had a faraway, almost dreamy look in his eyes. You felt a little bad that he had to stay in the carriage instead being out there in the rain.

Not for the first time, you wondered about the connection between him and rain. At first, you assumed that he was one of those people who liked rainy days, but there seemed to be more to it than that. You were quite sure that he had some power over rain, but you couldn’t picture him as someone who would change the weather for his own sake.

Maybe he chooses especially hot days to make it rain, you mused, but quickly dismissed that thought. There had been scorching hot days without a single drop of precipitation these past few months. Neuvillette, if he did control the rain, seemed to have his own criteria as to which days to let it fall.

You looked out the window as well. The rain had lessened considerably, but it was still falling. The streets were practically canals, and the sky was gray as slate. You saw pedestrians unfortunate to be out without umbrellas huddling under shop awnings, as well as children laughing as they jumped into puddles.

There was a shuffling of cloth next to you. Neuvillette had turned around and was looking towards your window, his face unreadable. You turned your head as well and saw a couple huddled under a colorful umbrella, giggling with each other.

Oh, that reminds me…is what Furina said true? Has he never been in a relationship?

With all that had happened afterwards, you almost forgot that particular bombshell. It seemed inconceivable to you.

Neuvillette was known to keep humans at a distance and only showed a warm-hearted, fatherly side to the Melusines, but throughout all these years, surely there had to have been people who he opened his heart to? He had a severe, imposing aura to him, yes, but anyone could tell just from talking to him briefly that he was a gentle, amiable person, if a bit too stiff.

Plus, he was handsome, wealthy, and respected by all. That was a winning combination in every era. Single people (and doubtless the married ones as well) probably flocked to him in droves whenever he made a rare appearance at a public event. Did not one of them ever catch his eye?

He’s lived a long life, and even now there are still many things we don’t know about him. Having a secret lover or ten wouldn’t be out of the question. He most likely has secrets even Furina doesn’t know about.

But supposing what Furina said was true, then what was the reason for it? The only thing you could come up with was that he simply had no desire for a relationship. Perhaps he swore himself to complete chastity, like the monks and ascetics of old, in an effort to remain impartial.

That seemed rather extreme to you. You were quite sure that at least a few of his fellow judges were married with families of their own, and no one ever accused them of being biased because of that.

But then again, you wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. Even in the privacy of his own home, he maintained that monk-like way of life. He did not indulge in sumptuous meals, he did not drink or smoke, and even his house, though tastefully furnished, seemed almost spartan compared to the handful of extravagantly decorated mansions belonging to nobles of far lesser rank you had visited before. His long, thick hair and heavy robes seemed to speak otherwise, but they seemed more like a work uniform to him than a reflection of his personal tastes, judging by how many times you saw him grimace or heard him sigh in resignation whenever his hair or robes got stuck between sofa cushions or between his heel and the floor. The only indulgences he partook in, if you could even call them that, were his extensive collection of imported water and gazing out at the sea.

At first, you had assumed that he was putting on an act for you, his wife who was more like a stranger to him, but as the two of you grew accustomed to living with each other, you came to understand that this was truly who he was.

But still, that’s some discipline he has, if he could maintain being single for so long. Is that the difference between the willpower of an immortal being and a normal human? Maybe he thinks romance is an indulgence of some kind as well. I highly doubt he is the kind of person to frequent, um, let’s say, adult establishments, either…you know what, let’s not go there.

Even if you were only thinking it, it was still highly improper, especially since the person in question was right next to you.

So with all that, why did he decide to get married now? He said before that Furina had been bothering him about it, but from what you heard and saw today, this wasn’t the first time she had done so. Did he finally have a change of heart after centuries of (purported) bachelorhood?

No, I shouldn’t be thinking about this, you told yourself firmly. It’s his personal business—I shouldn’t get curious. Especially after all that talk about maintaining personal boundaries.

You turned your head to look at him with a pleasant smile, preparing to make some nice, normal conversation about the weather or work or something like that, but was interrupted by the shouting of children outside.

A boy and a girl, who looked to be siblings, were squeezing their eyes shut as though in prayer and shouting, “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry!”

“Oh, that takes me back,” you said, turning to Neuvillette. “Me and my sister used to recite that nursery rhyme whenever it rained as well when we were little.”

You used to love listening to your parents reading to you about the Hydro Dragon, but as you grew older and became more interested in more serious and concrete history, the fairy tales you once adored became a distant memory.

Neuvillette did not say anything for a minute. He seemed to be lost in thought, but then he blinked and shook his head a little, as though coming out of a trance. “My apologies, Madame, for keeping silent for so long,” he said, turning his attention to you, though you caught his gaze flitting towards the window. “I did not catch what you said just now. May I trouble you to repeat it?”

“It wasn’t anything important,” you assured him, even as you wondered whether or not you should at least open the window. He really did seem to yearn for the rain. “Those children just reminded me of when me and my sister used to believe in the Hydro Dragon.”

“You ‘used to’ believe in the Hydro Dragon?” he raised an eyebrow. “You do not think it exists?”

You thought about it a little. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s an irrefutable fact that dragons exist, so a Hydro Dragon probably did live in Fontaine at one point, if the number of fairytales and folk stories is any indication. The only thing we know for sure is that it can create rain when it cries, but I am curious as to how that came to be. How can we be one-hundred percent sure that they are connected? Everything we know about it comes from the stories as there are no reliable eyewitness accounts. We don’t even have any idea what it looks like. And with the rising sea levels, it’s likely that any relevant evidence or records are long lost. In any case, this Hydro Dragon seems to be a lot more reclusive than its brethren. It’s not like the Dragon of the East in Mondstadt, where it’s considered one of the protectors of the nation, or that dragon in Liyue who fought alongside the Geo Archon in his campaigns and transformed the land wherever it went. It seemed to have simply…existed without doing anything of note.”

It was only after you finished speaking that you realized that you had gone on a rant. “I…I’m sorry,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat.

“There is no need to apologize for speaking about your passions,” the melancholic look in Neuvillette’s eyes was gone as he gazed at you with unconcealed amusement. Seeing that, you simultaneously felt relieved and even more embarrassed. “I have not heard you speak at length about history ever since that day.”

“Haha, well, I don’t want to bore you…” you fidgeted with the strap of your purse. It was funny—you felt a hundred times more self-conscious now than you did back then, when you hardly knew him. Of course, he was the one who had asked for your opinion then, so maybe that was it, but still…shouldn’t it be the other way around? It was easier to open up to someone you were familiar with, wasn’t it?

“There truly is nothing to feel ashamed about. I enjoy hearing you talk. I would love nothing more than to hear you speak about history or whatever you subject you prefer, all day,” his eyes were still dancing with mirth. Was it that amusing for him? “I thought you were mainly interested in Remuria. I didn’t know you had an interest in dragons as well.”

“I used to have a dragon phase when I was younger,” you admitted. “I’d scour all the books for the tiniest morsels of information and compile it all in a notebook, and I’d spend hours copying the drawings in those books. But then my teacher took me on a field trip of sorts to the old ruins outside my town and, well, I suppose you can guess what happened next.”

You still remembered the sense of awe and terrible sadness you felt as your teacher described to you what the ruins (an ancient noble’s villa) would have looked like in its day and pointed out the places where people once worked and relaxed and lived.

You unconsciously smiled as you recalled those innocent times. Sneaking out of the house under the pretext of going to your teacher’s house to explore the ruins, going to the library and borrowing everything you could find on Remuria, daydreaming about how you would earn the favor of the God King and become one of his Harmosts, unsuccessfully trying to convince your parents to take you to the opera house whenever they put on Boethius’ plays… You even took up the piano because Remuria was an empire run by musicians. Back when your imagination ran free and the concept of responsibility was a mere speck in the distance.

The more you learned, the more engrossed you were. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable sense of sadness. How could something so grand, so powerful, so seemingly eternal, be toppled almost overnight because of the actions of a few people? Only scraps of ancient documents, instruments, and crumbled ruins remained of that mighty empire. You had to know more. No, what you truly wanted was to walk in those ruins yourself, to see them with your own eyes to engrave the sight of their remnants into your brain.

It was no exaggeration to say that fateful field trip had irrevocably changed you. Whether or not it was for the better or worse, you couldn’t say.

Before you had your first taste of disappointments in the ballroom, you had a silly dream: that you would have the luck to marry an adventurer or a researcher who would take you to those ruins and give you the opportunity to research and explore them to your heart’s content. Of course, you were aware that one shouldn’t get into a marriage for such a selfish goal, but you were truly willing to fulfill your duties as a wife. It wasn’t the first outlandish dream you had, but at the time, you found it quite reasonable.

You told Neuvillette none of this. It was too intimate, too personal—it felt like opening up your ribs and showing him your beating heart. You didn’t pry into his personal affairs, and he didn’t have the right to know any more than what he needed to about you.

And yet…you had a strange feeling that you would regret this decision.

“So, anyways, do you have any theories?” you asked him, trying to get rid of these lingering doubts. “About the Hydro Dragon, I mean.”

Neuvillette was old, after all. You didn’t know how old he was, but it wasn’t inconceivable that he might have met the dragon at least once. Come to think of it, his past before he became the Chief Justice is as mysterious as the Hydro Dragon…

For a minute, he didn’t answer and instead let his gaze rove over your face. It felt uncomfortably like he was reading your thoughts—or emotions, as you learned today. You felt a belated sense of alarm, but what could you do? How does one conceal emotions on the inside?

“I do not have any, Madame,” he murmured at last. “I am of the same mind as you. The Hydro Dragon is of little interest compared to the joys and tribulations of humans.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s of little interest,” You felt strangely defensive of this poor maligned dragon now. “It’s a dragon, after all. I guess it’s just easier for a human like me to relate to other humans. Wherever this dragon is, I hope it feels better soon, considering how much it’s raining these days.”

Neuvillette opened his mouth, seemingly to say something, but just then the carriage stopped, finally reaching its destination.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I’ve noticed that you haven’t touched your complimentary macarons. Are they not to your liking? I can exchange it for another dessert you prefer. Or perhaps you would rather have a drink? We have sparkling water, coffee, tea, and champagne.”

“Thank you, Miss, but there is no need. I have already eaten recently, and as for drinks, I always bring my own. However, my friend here would like a box of macarons to take home, so if we could trouble you to do so…”

“Monsieur Neuvillette, would you like to peruse our collection of men’s shoes as well? We carry boots, loafers, and heeled shoes, all handmade by the finest shoemakers in Fontaine and beyond. Our new collection of autumn accessories has also just come in, and though we haven’t put them out on sale to the public yet, we’ll be happy to give you an exclusive first look.”

“Thank you for the offer, Miss, but I am not shopping here today for myself. As I’ve told the manager earlier, I am here for the sole purpose of accompanying my friend, who is buying a birthday present for her sister.”

“May I ask the two of you to leave us for now? We’ll ring the bell if we are in need of assistance,” you spoke up, observing the stiffness in Neuvillette’s bearing. You didn’t fault the shop assistants for their eagerness, but it was a bit overwhelming.

The two women turned to you. Was it just your imagination, or did their smiles looked more forced than with Neuvillette? “Yes, Miss, of course,” The shop assistants maintained their polished and professional demeanor, but you could sense the disappointment emanating from them as they left the little waiting room you and Neuvillette had been led to.

“Finally, they’re gone,” you slumped in your chair. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette do the same as the tension left his body. “That was exhausting. Is it like this every time you go shopping?”

“I rarely go shopping, but, yes, I do attract an undue amount of attention whenever I’m out in public.” Neuvillette, looked at you with concern. “I hope you do not find it too overwhelming.”

“It’s fine,” you waved your hand. “I should be worrying about you. They were all focusing on you.”

You had a taste of this “undue amount of attention” as soon as you walked through the doors of the store. Luckily, there weren’t that many shoppers at this time of day. The shop assistants here were well-known for their beauty and demeanor that made them seem unapproachable, but they were the ones who flocked to you as soon as they caught sight of Neuvillette’s tall figure. You overheard several whispered but heated arguments as they fought over who got to assist him. It took him telling them the reason for his visit before they even noticed you, whereupon you became the subject of scrutinizing gazes that flicked between you and Neuvillette. You could practically see the gears turning in the shop assistants’ heads as they tried to guess what kind of relationship you two had. At least you were dressed well for the occasion.

The manager, who had appeared a minute later, was all smiles as she led you to the small sitting room and handed you the store’s catalog. The room afforded a good view of the streets of the Court down below. Looking around at the watercolor paintings on the wall and glittering gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling, you thought wryly to yourself that you were at last experiencing the life expected of the Chief Justice’s wife.

You flipped through the catalog to the shoe section and immediately found the shoes—a pair of rose pink dancing slippers, dotted with seed pearls and finished off with little bows on the heels. You saw the price listed next to it and winced. It was five times as much as the rent of the old boarding house.

Neuvillette, noticing your reaction, leaned over to take a look. “That’s a lovely pair of shoes,” he commented. “The price is quite reasonable as well. Perhaps we can buy another pair for you.”

You decided not to comment on the price part. “For me? No, no, that style doesn’t fit me at all.”

“Then let’s find something else,” Neuvillette scanned the catalog before his gaze landed on another pair of shoes.  “Ah, you would look wonderful in these.”

You looked at where he was pointing, and your breath caught. These shoes were a silvery white color that reminded you of pearls. Except for the long ribbon ties, it lacked the adornments of the other featured shoes. But they had an ephemeral air to them that set them apart, as if they’d disappear if you breathed on them. They looked like something that a water nymph would wear as she danced on the lake.

“You like them. I can tell,” Neuvillette’s voice brushed against your ear. You realized that he had been studying you. “Perhaps we shall leave this store today with gifts for your sister and you.”

You tore your eyes away from the beautiful shoes. “No…no, that’s not necessary. It’s not as though I have anywhere to wear them, or anything to wear them with. They’ll be wasted on me, and they’re so expensive.”

You had already bought all the shoes you needed on the previous shopping trip: a pair of sturdy walking boots, a more stylish pair of button-up boots, and a pair of plain black heels for more formal occasions. You couldn’t even imagine yourself wearing those silver shoes. They seemed more for looking at than actually wearing. Your dancing days were over, and thank the Archons for that.

They were for someone who lived for dances or the stage—someone completely different from you.

Neuvillette regarded you for a moment. “If you insist, Madame,” he said. “But I sincerely believe that they would look beautiful on you.”

Before you could say anything to that, the manager returned. “Have you found anything you like?” she asked.

You showed her what you picked and told her your sister’s shoe size. “Ah, yes, the brand is very popular with fashionable young ladies,” the manager beamed. “I’ll bring them to you right away.”

She returned promptly with a shoebox in her hands. The shoes, nestled in tissue paper, were even more beautiful up close. You could practically hear your sister’s squeals of delight.

“Is there anything else you would like to look at, Miss?” the manager said. “Might I suggest buying a purse or a necklace to go along with those slippers? Young ladies love to accessorize, after all. I can give you a few recommendations.”

You were about to say, “That won’t be necessary.” As a frugal person, you were accustomed to fending off these types of sales tactics, but Neuvillette beat you to the chase.

“What an excellent idea, Miss,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “The young lady in question will be delighted, I’m sure.”

You could have sworn the poised and polished manager blushed. “I…I’ll bring you the catalogs, then,” she said, flustered.

You gave Neuvillette a look as the manager disappeared into the hallway. “Is there something wrong, Madame?” he said, tilting his head in confusion.

“…No, it’s nothing.” Whether or not it was true that Neuvillette had never had a lover, the effect he had on people couldn’t be denied. Was he conscious of it? You peered at him as he sipped his water, closing his eyes as he savored it. He probably doesn’t.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked when he was done. “The prices here are very high. Even if you do have the money to spare, it’s…”

“Price is no object. Birthdays are special for humans. They only come around once a year, and they mark an important milestone in their lives. Such occasions should be celebrated to the fullest extent.”

“You do have a point,” you admitted. Opportunities like these were hard to come by, and if Neuvillette was willing to pay for it all, then it should be fine, right?

The manager returned with the catalogs, and for the next hour or so, you spent it poring over them with Neuvillette. Shop assistants streamed into the room, bringing wares for you to look over. Somehow, in addition to the purse and bag for your sister, you ended up buying three ties and a set of amethyst cufflinks for your father, a lace shawl and fan for your mother, and a pair of emerald earrings for your old housekeeper. Neuvillette also insisted on buying you a frilly parasol after one shop assistant described to him how perfect it was for walking by the water on a sunny day. You could count on one hand how many times you did that in your life.

There were two things you learned from this experience.

One, shop assistants were masters of psychological manipulation.

Two, Neuvillette should never be alone when he went shopping. You feared that if you hadn’t been there, he would have completely taken in by the shop assistants’ sales pitches and bought out half the store.

Once everything was bought (the total cost nearly gave you a heart attack), packaged, and wrapped, it was finally time to go, but not before Neuvillette went around thanking all the staff for their assistance.

“B-By the way, Monsieur Neuvillette,” a young and eager-looking shop assistant piped up as she stepped forward. She looked between the two of you meaningfully. “Our store also sells rings, including engagement rings!”

“Elodie!” her coworkers hissed, pulling her back.

“Thank you for the information, but I have no need for engagement rings,” Neuvillette informed her kindly, even as you tried not to die of embarrassment next to him.

The rain had long since passed when you emerged outside and was immediately assailed by a wall of humidity. The deep puddles on the sidewalk were the only proof that there had been a large thunderstorm earlier. There was already a sheen of sweat on your forehead. Luckily, the carriage was parked nearby.

You leaned back against the cushioned seat as soon as you got in. You somehow felt more exhausted now than you had after the previous shopping spree, even though you were sitting the whole time.

Neuvillette also looked relatively worn out. The heat and humidity probably didn’t help either.

“The shopping took longer than I thought. Do you have to go back to the Palais soon?” you asked.

He checked his pocket watch. “I still have about half an hour of free time left.” He turned an expectant gaze towards you. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go?”

“Not really…” you trailed off as you caught sight of a mother and son holding ice cream cones outside the window. “Oh, wait, there is somewhere I’d like to stop by. It’s just the thing for a hot day like this.”

You told the driver the address of an ice cream parlor that you frequented ever since you were a child. The carriage set off.

Neuvillette was looking worriedly at the pile of boxes teetering on the opposite seat. “Perhaps we have bought too many gifts…” he murmured. “Will you be able to bring them all home with you?”

“I think I’ll be able to fit them in my trunk,” you replied. Probably.

Neuvillette gave you a sideways look. “Perhaps I can help you carry it to the docks tomorrow morning, as your ankle has only just recovered.”

“There’s no need for that,” you rocked your ankle back and forth. There was no longer any twinge of pain when you moved it. “Oh, that reminds me, I’ll be away for the whole day tomorrow, so I won’t be back until the day after.”

“The whole day?” Now he turned to face you. “I didn’t know that the birthday celebration would last so long.”

“My sister’s birthday parties usually go all the way into the evening,” you admitted. “And you know how long it takes to get to my hometown from here, so I’m staying the night there.”

“I see,” Neuvillette nodded slowly, but something seemed to be bothering him.

“Were you planning on taking me somewhere tomorrow?” you asked when he said nothing for a few moments.

“…I have a little bit of spare time after tomorrow’s trials, so I was thinking of taking you on a stroll along a riverbank. There is a beautifully clear river just north of the city, and it would be a good opportunity to use your new parasol. But I suppose we can reschedule it for another day.”

“Mm,” you nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

A stretch of silence followed. Seeing Neuvillette’s downcast face, you thought for a moment that he might be sulking. But that was impossible. There was no way that the reserved, aloof Iudex would ever sulk, right?

Neuvillette had been acting strangely throughout this whole outing, but considering what happened earlier today, you couldn’t fault him for it. Even so, that didn’t get rid of the itchy feeling in your chest when you looked at him. Maybe it would have been better if we went home to rest instead of going shopping, you regretted. Hopefully, ice cream would cheer him up a little.

“Neuvillette, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” you asked when the carriage came to a stop in front of the ice cream parlor.

“I do not have one, so please feel free to choose whatever you like,” he answered.

You nodded, and Neuvillette opened the carriage door, about to step out, but you stopped him. “Wait, Neuvillette. Stay in the carriage. I’ll go buy for us. You already paid for everything today, so I want to treat you for a change.”

He looked surprised, but you were already out the door before he could say anything.

Clouds drifted in the ultramarine sky, but they did nothing against the scorching heat.

When you entered the cool ice cream parlor, a new addition on the menu caught your eye—ice cream soda. Apparently, it was a drink that consisted of ice cream floating in a mixture of syrup and carbonated water. That sounds like something Neuvillette would like, you thought to yourself with a thrill of excitement and promptly ordered it along with a double scoop of chocolate caramel ice cream.

A short time later, you returned to the carriage with the frozen treats. Neuvillette sat up when you climbed in. “Is that a beverage, Madame?” he looked quizzically at the glass bottle in your hand.

“It’s an ice cream soda,” you explained. “I’ve never had one before, but it looks delicious, doesn’t it? I heard that it’s one of their best-sellers.”

As you ate your ice cream, you watched him hesitantly sip on his straw. Surprise flashed across his features. “This is indeed delicious,” he commented after a few more sips. “The syrup and ice cream serve as an excellent garnish and balance to the carbonated water. The entire concoction is cold and refreshing, and the sugar provides some much-needed energy for a day like this.” He turned to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Madame, for introducing me to this wonderful beverage.”

You held back a laugh. Only Neuvillette would call ice cream a “garnish” to soda water. “I’m glad you like it.” Then, you added, “I hope it improves the rest of your day after that horrible start.”

He smiled softly. “I feel as though that meeting had happened years ago.” He reached out his hand to brush it against yours. The skin tingled where he touched it. “All thanks to you.”

“Me? What did I do?” All you did was buy him ice cream. He was the one who provided everything else.

“For being by my side, and for always humoring me,” he said simply, then lowered his gaze a little. “To tell you the truth, Madame, I envy you a little. You’re always looking forward and rarely dwell on the past. You’re driven by rationality rather than emotions. Being with you makes me realize how inadequate I am when it comes to such things.”

He looked at you with a clear, genuine gaze. You found that you couldn’t look him in the eye, so you fixed your eyes on the carriage door behind him instead. Rarely dwelling on the past? Driven by rationality rather than emotions? If only he knew…

“But I like those things about you,” you murmured. You weren’t sure what drove you to say that.

Neuvillette’s eyes slowly widened. “You…you like me?” he sounded astonished.

“Um…I thought it was obvious,” you feel like shoving your ice cream, cone and all, into your mouth. “I wouldn’t do what I did this morning if I didn’t. …And by ‘like,’ I mean the friendship kind of ‘like,’ not the romance kind, so as not to cause any misunderstanding.”

“Is there a difference?” Neuvillette tilted his head.

“Yes,” you nodded vigorously. “It’s as vast as the sea itself.”

He stared at you for a few moments, and then let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Perhaps fate does have its benefits, if it led me to you.”

Now you gaped at him. “For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, you’re awfully good at talking like someone from a romance novel,” you muttered.

You heard a choking sound next to you, and when you turned to him, you saw him wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. “You…you remembered that?” he managed.

“It’s certainly a memorable fact.”

“Furina…” he muttered to himself.

“So it’s true then? You’ve never dated anyone? Not even Lady Furina?”

He whipped his head around to look at you. “Why would you think that Furina and I would ever form such a relationship?” He sounded so uncharacteristically vehement that you let out a laugh.

“Well…you both stand at the top of the government, you’ve worked together for centuries, you’re both immortal, you both have a prepossession for blue…” Neuvillette was still looking at you with a look of astonishment, as though you just told him that you were going to run naked through the streets. “I really don’t think it’s such an absurd question, since you’re not interested in humans.”

“How do you know I’m not?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you, then?” you countered.

Neuvillette said nothing, seemingly devoting himself to drinking his ice cream soda. You decided to drop it there.

The carriage rolled along, returning to the Palais Mermonia to drop Neuvillette off. Both of you were silent, but it wasn’t the stiff, awkward silence from before. You were both lost in your thoughts because it was who the two of you were.

You were thinking about what Neuvillette said about fate. It had been a long time since that word had crossed your mind.

When you moved into the Neuvillette’s house, you had considered this a mere temporary detour in the unswerving, pre-determined road that was your life. You had kept that in mind as these months passed by.

But…is that truly set in stone? Could this so-called detour become a new road, to a different future?

What kind of future would that be?

You shouldn’t entertain these thoughts. It was dangerous. It would only lead to inevitable heartbreak once this all came to an end. But…

You sneaked a look at Neuvillette. When his hand brushed against yours earlier, when he held your hand during the meeting—you could feel the smooth edges of his wedding ring pressing into your fingers.

You thought about your ring. Those rings were made for the sole purpose of symbolizing your union. Even after you and Neuvillette went your separate ways, they would remain for the rest of eternity. As a memory, and as a reminder.

The carriage felt stuffy all of a sudden. You pushed down the window a little bit, letting in a cool breeze that brushed against your cheek and ruffled Neuvillette’s hair.

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[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤcome back, come homeㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤhow much do they miss you when you're gone ? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanderer, kokomi !

"anonymous order; ...may i request just a tad bit too much with wanderer and kokomi ( im manifesting ) ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfor a fellow manifester, let's get them !!! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthanks for requesting enjoy ! xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwarnings : mentioned injury ! ( kokomi )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

due to trying to focus on his studies at the akademiya, he often finds himself losing time to spend with you. where instead of melting into your warmth as he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms, he'd end up falling asleep while studying for a long test at his desk. where instead of waking up to you kissing his cheek and cupping his face, he'd be waking up to the pages of his textbook sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

he's not the only busy one in your relationship though, as a matter of fact, you might be the busier one.

from constantly having to deal with wandering fungi in an area you were tasked with clearing, to spewing curses under your breathe while charging into eremite camps under a commission. those fungi infestations aren't just going to fade away by themselves, those damned treasure hoarders won't leave the ancient ruins alone.

you're stuck with taking commissions all around sumeru. and poor kunikuzushi is stuck at his desk, worried sick and repeatedly tapping his foot on the ground and clenching the pen in his hand hard, - he wants to help you on those expeditions so bad. - glaring at the words on his paper as if they read insults to him.

so when nahida stepped into his room one afternoon, while he was studying, and announced your return from another expedition, he stood up from his seat so fast that his chair nearly fell over as he rushed out to finally see you.

"[name] ?" he called out as he turned to last corner before entering the sala, and there you were, seated comfortably on the sofa and blowing lightly on the still steaming tea in your hands. you looked up at him with an equally excited smile and set your cup down before standing up.

"kuni, how i missed —" arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. "i missed you more, i missed you so much more." he responded to your cut sentence, holding the both of you still for a few minutes.

"the akademiya has been hell, and you were gone on a week-long expedition, i was barely surviving here." you chuckled at your boyfriend's words, humming as the two of you pulled away and sat down, his arms still around your waist.

"sorry for being gone for so long, love. i got lost and ended up in an area i wasn't assigned to, those two last days were me being lost and stranded for a bit." "WHAT ?!" "yeah !" "oh don't act like that's the best thing you could've told me about your trip."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤsangonomiya kokomi !ㅤ

kokomi often finds herself away for long periods of time. be it a need to take a break from social gatherings or drowning herself in plans for the resistance. either way, she considers herself lucky to have such a partner like you.

a partner like you that understands her boundaries and gives her all the time she needs, but knows to check on her as well. a partner like you who considers all her needs. a partner like you who feels meant for her. a partner like you who is just, so patient with her.

she thinks she should teach herself to be as patient as you, because right now, she was fidgeting with her fingers as she waited outside of the medical tent, wanting to tend to your wounds herself.

this afternoon was supposed to be one of those where she waits for you at home, but she couldn't just wait when she was informed that you got injured in the midst of battle. she needed to be there for you, so here she was, waiting outside of the tent as she was told.

"please be patient her excellency, our best on-field doctor is cleaning their wounds." "thank you for taking care of her, general gorou. i just wish i could tend to her myself." gorou frowned in sympathy for the priestess before excusing himself to check on his other troops, giving kokomi the space for her to wait in peace.

soon, the doctor stepped out of the tent, calling for her. "her excellency ?" "here, i am here." "they would like you to come in." and at that signal, kokomi couldn't keep herself together anymore as she rushed into the tent, her eyes finally laying on your bandage littered figure.

"darling !" "sweetheart !" her arms wrapped around you gentle, her cold tears tickling the skin of your collarbone, but you didn't mind as you held her close to you as well. "i'm okay now, see ? i apologize for worrying you my darling. ." you whispered softly into her ear as she hugged you, hiccupping between breathes as her tears still stained your collarbone.

"i missed you so much. i missed you so so much, i was so worried." her voice shook as she sat up, cupping her face as if grounding herself still. "i nearly knocked over a few things when i rushed out after i was informed you were here." you chuckled softly at her concern, taking her hands in yours and kissing each of her knuckles tenderly. "again, i apologize for worrying you, my darling." you spoke again, wiping away the tear stains left on her cheeks as she shook her head with a smile.

"no, don't apologize, i'm just glad to have you here now." she reassured.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

Had an idea for some Yan!TP LinkxReader who could also shift into a wolf. Working on requests!

Tw: Yandere, Mentions of murder, Mentions of Cannibalism, Obsession

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Link always knew there was something special about you. That was, something beyond the obvious. You were a being of absolute divinity in both beauty and intelligence. Not only that, but you saw him as a fitting devotee to grace with your presence. You saw him worthy of your worship. Someone to keep around rather than abandon, unlike some others he’s loved before. Of course you, absolutely incredible and utterly divine you, was special. There was absolutely no doubt about it —he’d kill anyone who had anything to say otherwise. He didn’t see the need to entertain or engage with such obvious mistruths. But there was always a nagging feeling that there was more to you than he could simply gather at face value. That there was something drawing him to you like a moth to a flame. Like he had some innate need for your presence like a starving man needs food. And yet, no matter how hard he tried nor how long he searched, he couldn’t exactly pin it. Perhaps it was sacrilegious of him to even doubt you, but his senses had never before led him wrong.

One must understand that, in the wreckage of his life post his heroics, the more animalistic side of him had since begun to merge with his sense of humanity. Two things, realms, entities mixing to eventually make some middle ground— an equilibrium. That line between man and beast blurred and bled into one another until he was more of himself than he ever was before. He could track down any missing person —incredibly useful for wrangling the rowdy children of Ordon— a task he could previously only do as a wolf but could now achieve as a human. He now had an odd hunger for raw meat. Originally, this happened posed quite a problem, as people don’t take well to seeing another person scarf down slabs of raw meat. But, as always, you provided a solution. Whenever he’d have to kill a man in offering to you —as they’d gotten too close to you, too close to touching what wasn’t theirs— all Link would need to do after the job was pick the bones clean. The carcass left quite a message, he was sure.

There was, However, the final issue he used to struggle with. The beast often demanded a Mate. He supposed it made some form of sense —the hunger for satisfaction. After All, it’s not like the beast can really understand that there’s more to living than survival and reproduction when you have consciousness. Whenever the urge would come back, knawing at his ribs like a spitting fire daring to be tamed, he’d let it fizzle out. It was all the real options he had. The beast didn’t beg for just anyone to tame the teeming flames. Instead it urged for someone specific. But of course, for no one he knew of. It cried and howled, with no way to sate the beast’s desires. And so, Link resigned himself to waiting. Again, It’s not like he had any other option. But of course you, marvellous you. You were the solution. You happened to be the very one that his soul cried out to. The calm sun, dowsing him with light after so long of storms. Like moonlight to a moth and bread to a starving man, you saved and sated him down to the matter of his vary soul. He didn’t dare question it, not now he had you. That would be simply disgraceful of him to turn you away in even the slightest. So while you attuned yourself to him, he could spend all his time and energy toward cherishing you. He could spend everything toward your worship. While you learned of him and of his home, he learned what foods you best like and how you’d best like him so you would just stay by his side. Please- you’re all he has left.

The summer night was quiet in Ordon, the kids having gone to bed and most of the adults having gone to follow. Crickets buzzed in the tall grasses and the pleasantly cool night meant you could open up the windows. The two of you lounged inside, curled up close. His face was nuzzled into your neck, calmed by the familiarity and warmth of your scent.

“Link?” Your voice was soft and quiet to match the comfortable silence you’d established for yourselves. He hummed back to you in response, looking up. He basked in the attention you gave him, he was blessed that you picked him. You could have had anyone. Well not anyone, he’d kill his competitors.

“Look, I have to show you something, but you have to promise you won’t freak out.” He sat upright with the worry that pulled at your tone. You were too good to live a life that provided you with worries. He’s gone through so much that you could live in blissful peace as you deserve. He’d level towns- he’d bring death to Hyrule as the two of you know it if it means your worries are calmed. You slid off the couch and returned with your fluffy cloak in hand. It was your favorite, lined with a thick pelt capable of keeping you warm and dry in harsh weather. Not to mention, you looked utterly adorable when the fluff dwarfed your frame. You clipped it over your shoulders and anxiously adjusted it so it fit perfectly. You breathed slowly, and it was like energy breathed into the still room. There was a small glow of light, and when it cleared, you were no longer sitting before him. Instead, a wolf looked back at him, ears perked and the same intelligent eyes looking back at his own. You were like him. That’s why you were meant to be together, why his soul called to yours. Gods- you were perfect for him in ways he didn’t know he craved. He was hellbent on making sure that you’d live a good life, by any means necessary.