#the queen's gambit inspired

[umbremom]

checkmate

she's fighting for her life and he's just sitting there admiring her

I present Queen's Gambit Eremika from this AU by @littlerosette~

Full resolution + CC credits here

[inocitron]

Once upon a time, I watched The Queen’s Gambit and madly fell in love with Beth Harmon

(This was drawn in November 2020)

[alintalzin]

Gorgeous. I'd wear it.

Zuhair Murad couture fall 2007

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[nervmaup]

Inspirated by The Queen's Gambit poster by Peyton Webber(@oneeye.design on instagram).

Drawing sad Ciel always makes me emotional

[wordslikesilver]

I am once again thinking about Hoarah Loux, the only man Marika ever trusted and the only man she ever loved. It’s such an insane thing to think about the fact that the second last boss of Elden Ring is Some Guy. He is literally just A Human Man. Marika looks at this fucking raving barbarian man and decides to My Fair Lady him into a Lord like the deranged woman she is by assigning him a babysitter to perpetually gnaw on his neck whenever he’s in public. As insane as all that sounds, let’s break down that imagery a little because it’s actually really good! His babysitter is the king of beasts, a lion named Serosh, who digs his claws and his fangs into Hoarah Loux’s body to keep him suppressed and restrained enough in temperament to now be fit to be named Godfrey, The First Elden Lord of Queen Marika.

Serosh is frankly quite mysterious as far as what he actually is goes but as far as story themes go, he’s a really interesting symbol of lordship. The lion basically IS Godfrey’s crown, it’s what makes him Godfrey. The symbolism is essentially stating in a very overt way that this man is more savage than all the beasts of the world. In Elden Ring, beasts with five fingers indicate an enlightened or elevated intelligence, blessed by the greater will. It’s fascinating how it’s basically stating that Serosh is more intelligent, refined and noble than Hoarah Loux, that this man is more wild and savage than the greatest of all the beasts in the world. That only a beast king could teach this man to be a Lord. Godfrey can rip him apart anytime but he doesn’t. It takes more than strength of body to wear a crown and he knows it. He needs Serosh to honour and do right by Marika. He is showing his opponents a courtesy, as he puts it. Morgott takes after his example and so too is Radahn inspired by him. It’s really wonderful imagery.

There’s more to the symbolism. My knowledge of alchemy is, I completely admit, too surface level to elegantly speak at length but I’ve done some light reading online to back up my confidence in what I’m saying. We know Miyazaki loves dark edgy anime like Berserk and I posit that he also gained inspiration from the anime/manga Hellsing, in which the main character recites the line “I am the bird of Hermes, eating my own wings to make me tame.” This line comes from the Ripley Scroll and is theorized to have many meanings but popularly is presumed to mean giving up higher philosophy and knowledge to live normally on the earth as a human. Miyazaki uses lots of alchemical symbolism in his works, Elden Ring especially (go watch Quelaag’s videos!) so I could be totally full of shit about hellsing but I’m completely confident that Godfrey is meant to be an inversion (like literally everything else about his character) of what the Bird of Hermes represents. Godhood is a prison, a shackling. The entire plot is Marika (and Ranni tbh) trying to escape that imprisonment. Godfrey loves Marika enough to chain himself down, to eat his own wings, to pull out his own teeth and claws for her to make himself tame and ascend to lordship.

What’s especially fascinating about him is that he carries Serosh out into the badlands with him, as the opening cutscene shows. Cut dialogue indicates he already knew the Elden Ring would shatter and the tarnished would be beckoned to return. That Marika told him her plan in full before she took from him and his warriors the grace of gold and sent them away. A line from him saying to trust in gold, always, that it will guide our fates to our true destiny has wonderful implications I would certainly love to expand on in another post maybe. Hoarah Loux was just a human man and Marika trusted him enough to tell him everything. Trusted him with her gambit to escape the shackles of godhood. This is the fascinating part about taking Serosh with him. Keeping himself disciplined enough to remain a Lord when he returns. To hold back his aching heart just enough that he could follow through on this dark plan and allow his wife to protect him from the machinations of the greater will by sending him away. Also note that in that opening cutscene, he’s being crucified, with a lion about his shoulders and spear buried in his abdomen. They could not be milking the Jesus imagery harder if they tried. The Bird of Hermes is also thought to represent Christ, more points for that symbolism.

I love Godfrey so much as a character. He loved his sons and he loved his wife. The tenderness that he holds Morgott with is enough to make me cry. How he wished he could’ve seen him sooner, I’m all too sure. He’s the only other character we see guided by grace in the entire game. Marika guides you and her beloved husband, that’s it, that’s how much she trusts him. When he rips Serosh from his shoulders, you understand how Marika felt such faith in him. In Elden Ring, it is through battle that you face the true self of an opponent. Godfrey reveals to you Hoarah Loux, Warrior Chieftain of the Badlands. It is a test. Are you worthy to free her? Can you do what I could not? I have shown you courtesy enough as a Lord. You served me well, Serosh. I relieve you of your burden and feel only gratitude for your service. Now begins the test. Are you, tarnished, stronger than the only man who was strong enough to bear the burden of Lordship? Are you stronger than the only man that Queen Marika ever trusted? Are you stronger than the only man she ever loved?

[die-auster]

A:tLA Olympics AU – Sokka

Not really Olympics so he'll have a reason to feel inferior, but in fact he's the one who inspired me for this AU. I will never stop admiring how smart he is.

FIDE is a part of International Olympic Committee, but they have their own Chess Olympiad.

"The Queen's Gambit" will forever be my chess inspiration.

Id in ALT.

This is the last one in my "atla olympics au" series (check the corresponding tag for other characters). There also are Olympics headcanons by other tumblr users (here and here), as well as a fanart

[balteredsworld]

masterlist! ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

below you'll find all work pertaining to ships, gifs, and fics produced by me!

house m.d. 🥼🩺

if you can fake sincerity, you can pretty much fake anything.

my mistake, gregory house — you should've known better, but don't. you were pathetically in love with house.

cha cha chase, gregory house — house finds out you're a dancer.

turning point, gregory house — you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.

wilson's hypothesis, gregory house — according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.

negotiations, gregory house — house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to the gala as a truce.

upcoming:

in new york, gregory house — mid make out session, wilson walks in and finds out has a you for a girlfriend.

pulse of verse, gregory house (series) — when a poet becomes a patient, house lets the team in on the secret he once dated you: the poet laureate whose poems he inspired. years later, you take up a teaching job at the university.

the queen's gambit ♟️💄

take it. it's your game.

an illicit affair, bethov — ch 1, ch 2, ch 3

losing is not option, bethov gif set

bridgerton 🦢🐝

after passion cools and fate intervenes, who else is a woman left with but herself?

an affinity, anthony bridgerton x oc! — ch 1

[marsprincess889]

JYESHTA

The battle, the loneliness and the cost of victory

Mercury ruled, Mars's sign.

A very lonely nakshatra indeed. Jyeshta means "the eldest" and it's also known as "the best". But what does that all mean?

To understand Jyeshta, we have to remember that it's fully in the sign of Scorpio. The previous nakshatra- Anuradha, also fully in Scorpio, is its yoni consort. Scorpio is the natural ruler of the 8th house of death, transformation and the occult. It's shrouded in secrecy, yet Jyeshta nakshatra still manages to be one of the most notorious lunar mansions.

Jyeshta's symbol is a round protective talisman or an umbrella. It's ruling deity is Indra- the lightning god and the king of the gods, who is covered in eyes and thus sees everything. The goddess associated with Jyeshta is Dhumavati- an old hag who's always hungry. Jyeshta natives are known for their success in the material realm, but little do most know that there's a lot more to it than that.

We begin the story of Jyeshta with a somewhat outcasted underdog. They're not that understood, they are independent by nature, and most importantly, they do not trust a soul. Why so defensive, some might ask, but that's the eyes from which Jyeshtas see the world. Despite humble begginings, they're usually not pitied or treated as a victim. Since they do not like asking for help, they rarely get it, and honestly, that's the way they like it.

The underdog enters the world stage, immideately attracting attention because they do not follow anyone else's rules, but rather- their own. They have their uniqueness that protects them. Combat by combat, they defeat each and every one of their opponents and soon are seen as a new threat. With that comes jealousy, with jealousy comes resentment and/or respect. With all that comes fear. Jyeshta's power is "to rise, conquer and gain courage in battle". The battle is life, but what does it mean to rise and conquer? How does one outsmart their opponents? The answer is you simply do not fight them.

When you view someone as an opponent you automatically set yourself up for losing. The opponents are equals but since you're an individual and since you know that you can't trust anyone but yourself, why would you play by their rules? Why would you equate yourself to them? Jyeshtas honor their own uniquness by protecting their energy (mercury rulership, very similar to Ashlesha) and learning their lesson from the previous mercury-ruled nakshatra- Ashlesha, they only engage in a fight with worthy opponents. Jyeshtas know they're only one worthy opponent for them and that's themselves. So, they just work on being better and better, not getting distracted by petty and unimportant squabbles, literally rising above the unnessecary conflict and thus conquering everything they rose above.

But is success all there is to life? Jyeshta is the survivor, always thinking about the next step and enjoying the independence despite being so widely disliked because of their difference, because of their uniqueness and success. Sure, they're content being themselves, but as natural loners they struggle with emotional intelligence, hence their reputation as insensitive jerks for masculine people or rude bitches for feminine people.

A Jyeshta story- The Queen's Gambit

I want to analyze a fictional Jyeshta story that has been brought to life on screen- The Queen's Gambit. The writer of the novel - Walter Tevis had Ketu in Jyeshta nakshatra. Ketu represents your stored primal creative energy, past lives, the past in general, the father's lineage and a person's daemon. A daemon is basically the opposite sex version of you who is the personification of your creative and sexual energy. Walter Tevis wrote about the archetype of a Jyeshta woman, making her the protagonist of his story. Considering that I haven't read the book, I'll analyze the Netflix series that it inspired.

Chess overall is a very Jyeshta game. It's a competitive sport but it requires concentration, intelligence, discipline, talent and skill. If you make one miscalculation, then you're lost.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Our protagonist, Beth Harmon, begins as an 8 year old girl who lost her mother and was taken to an orphanage. There she never looked at elders the same way that others did, having a critical mind and an independence and uniqueness to her that set her apart from others from an early age. She was exceptionally good at maths and unusually so, considering her age. One day, she goes into the basement and finds the custodian_ Mr. Shaibel playing chess with himself. She's immideately drawn to the game and doesn't leave him alone until he explains the rules. Since then, she's hooked.

She eventually leaves the orphanage, getting adopted by a childless couple at 15. She already thinks like an adult and treats her new mother's authority like it's nothing and she's not really challenged in that. Jyeshta is the stage where you're the authority, you're the only one who's responsible for yourself, you're the eldest, the wisest and that energy makes others want to depend on you in one way or another. It's where you find the strength in yourself to make everyone else submit. So, Beth started to earn money by playing chess. It's important to note that her new mother had a drinking problem and despite that, Beth didn't drink herself before she thought she deserved it. Only after achieving some success does she slowly start getting addicted to substances, her addiction increasing as her success grew bigger.

Being the best in the game was not exactly easy for Beth, as she struggled with her love life. Jyeshtas are often not concerned with the emotional aspect of life, despite having a certain sensuality to themselves. They're naturally closed off and because of that many people find them mysterious. They won't hesitate to to attack anyone though, but their every move is calculated and planned.

Beth was bullied at school and that's a common Jyeshta theme (see my The Princess Diaries post) but she never paid any attention to it and later we see the mean girl she was at school with living a completely different life than her- the one that she would not want. The scene perfectly captures the difference between the Jyeshta archetype and the masses. Jyeshta is focused on winning, defeating themselves and by that defeating their opponents so they have little time for anything else. In contrast, her high school classmate was married and with a child, living a typical suburban American life.

In another scene, we see her success and loneliness turn to arrogance and rudeness as she encounters and old opponent, friend and ex-lover who was living a simple life and showed his contentment with that. That shows a more negative and quite a sad side of the Jyeshta archetype.

She hits rock bottom, starts to lose her focus and at the last minute, when she has no money to fly to Moscow for the tournament, a helping hand comes in. We'll get into why she accepts that help.

Her helper was her childhood friend from the orphanage_ Jolene, who was snarky and honest to her from the start. It's very telling that she was Beth's first friend. Jyeshta is a full-circle moment, it's the growing into your own power after you've defeated your past self, after you've managed to move on from past pains. When Beth had had closure with Jolene and after attending Mr. Shaibel's funeral, she goes into the orphanage and enters the basement. She sees how he had all the newspaper pages about Beth taped to the wall. Beth breaks down and cries. After confronting the core part of herself, she accepts help from Jolene because she's already healed that part of herself, so she'll have no unwelcome ties with Jolene, only the one she chose. She's conquered herself from that time and now is free to rule it. The only thing that was left to do was to go out there and be herself, because after you defeat yourself, there's truly no one else to defeat.

She defeats the Soviet champion and and makes peace with all parts of herself. When she's about to leave Moscow Beth gets out of the car and takes a walk, truly enjoying life. With the war with herself behind, she remembered why she's so good at chess, because she truly loves it so much. She enjoyed the competition and the tension, she loved the battle. There was no reason not to, not when she was unafraid of being who she was. After all these combats, she realized that there was only one real enemy-herself, and defeating that enemy requires bravery, the strength to bear the hardship and skill, a lot of skill to survive and all of that based on cunning.

When you realize that, the world is your oyster. It's all a game, and it's your game, you're alone.

She sees a big group of old men playing chess with each other in a park. Beth stops by, and the men, recognizing her, invite her to play. Beth sits down, smiling, knowing they'll both enjoy the game she takes her gloves off and says...

If you liked this PLEASE like, comment or reblog, or even message me. If you have jyeshta or if you know them or if you like The Queen's Gambit, definitely let me know what you think. This was a bit stressful, considering my ketu is in jyeshta and it was not easy to dig into the deepest parts of myself. This series came out while i was going through a ketu antardasha that shook me to the core and it spoke to me so much. Anyways, thanks for reading, love you and take care 🤍.

[venussaidso]

Vedic Astrology Observation (based on shows/films part 4)

I'm watching the series Archer and I guessed three main nakshatra archetypes correct! This includes Uttarabhadrapada, which is so potent in the two of the most prominent female characters in the main character's life.

First of all, this series is about espionage. So immediately, I know there are moon nakshatras. The main character, Sterling Archer, embodies lunar qualities: being a secret agent, going undercover, using disguises/aliases, trickery etc. etc.

Another hint that supported my theory of the character being lunar is how the fandom literally compare his character design to Henry Cavill who is a Shravana Moon.

As Henry Cavill is also famous for being in the espionage, spy film The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Another hint is Archer being a huge fanboy for Burt Reynolds who he inspires after or quotes during his epic, spy missions. And Burt Reynolds is a Hasta Moon, Rohini Ascendant.

Burt Reynolds even guest starred in an episode as himself and we see our main character fanboying throughout.

Burt Reynolds is famous for his spy film Operation CIA in which he plays a CIA agent who is undercover as a university professor.

The character Sterling Archer has to be voiced by a moon nakshatra native, right?

Finally, I went out to find the voice actor and calculated his vedic chart. Thank goodness the guy has his birthtime available; and accurate, at that. And I guessed right!!! 😭👇🏼

Just like Henry Cavill, also Shravana, who was a highly voted candidate in the fandom to play the live-action version.

But, in the very beginning of watching this series, the character Sterling immediately struck me as a Sun nakshatra native. His inability to commit to a relationship or anything; having zero devotion to anything.

He improvises everything; not much of a planner which makes him come off more carefree. He is missing this cold, lunar quality to him of being a strategist or even just being highly intelligent. I've always believed that Sun men are quite... bimbos, to say the least. Claire Nakti explored this in her Sun dominant men video more articulately and respectfully; and Archer embodies this energy too.

So, in the beginning episodes of the series, I believed he was mainly Sun dominant before witnessing other aspects of the character expanding.

I also noticed that he is emotionally volatile and loud and extremely comedic, which is not really Solar or Lunar, but Rahuvian. And guess what? The voice actor is an Ardra Moon, which makes a lot of sense.

But, I was right, again, to assume him being a Sun nakshatra. Because the voice actor also has Krittika Sun. Ha!

The reason why his Sun nakshatra was more blatantly obvious in the beginning for me was because of his relationship with his ex girlfriend, Lana!

Lana, whose character design is quite literally inspired by Rihanna's physique.

Rihanna, who I personally believe is an Uttarabhadrapada Ascendant, as her birthtime is rated C (unlikely to be accurate). And even if you don't think she's Uttarabhadrapada, fine, but the character Lana is.

She is the Saturn nakshatra archetype.

She's very kickass, warrior-like and has a masculine edge— which are the type of characters usually played by Saturnians/Uttarabhadrapadas.

I immediately noticed with how she butts heads with Archer. Uttarabhadrapada is a nakshatra in which its women are known for emasculating other male archetypes/even going head to head with men ruled by fiery-hot planets such as the Sun. Their chemistry in the series is the epitome of the Saturn woman x Sun man pairing.

Sun and Saturn are literally mortal enemies.

But people with this planetary rulership tend to be intrigued by each other. It seems to be very similar to having an intense square synastry with someone, in my opinion, which might add sexual/romantic tension more often than not.

Archer's mother is another important female figure in his life who is also Uttarabhadrapada.

She's a hardened woman who is in charge of a spy agency, a masculine job, and she acts or looks very similar to characters such as 1996's Cruella Deville or Miranda Priestly (both also played by Saturn nakshatras; both characters' hair are pale white).

Malory Archer quite literally ruined her son's life since he was born; always emasculating him even in his adult life. She's had a very cold, (Saturn) oppressive nature towards him since he was young. Saturn nakshatras are either known to humiliate its natives, or natives under this nakshatra lord will further humiliate/abuse others into their cold grip.

A trope I've seen often with this nakshatra, which makes sense if you think of them being the literal ice dragon.

I immediately noticed that she is Uttarabhadrapada not just from her masculine, commanding role in the series— but from the outfits she wears in every episode. She's always wearing cold colours, especially powder blue.

Uttarabhadrapada characters almost always have something significant that is coloured blue, which you'll always associate with the character; as Claire Nakti brilliantly pointed out in her Uttarabhadrapada video. And that's how I knew.

And her relationship with Lana, who is also very Uttarabhadrapada coded, is interesting. The same way Sun men tend to respect each other and always find each other from across the room, Saturn women always have a quiet air of respect for each other's strength.

The first time Malory met Lana, she pointed a gun to her head and Lana stubbornly stood her ground. It was like Malory immediately recognized herself in Lana. She was so impressed by her that she hired her to work at her agency as a top spy, just like that.

I was so certain that they were Uttarabhadrapadas and finally had the courage to check their charts AND I WAS RIGHT! Both voice actors are Uttarabhadrapadas!!

Their dynamic features this very Ascendant-Moon synastry — I definitely couldn't have guessed that one. This synastry quite literally demonstrates seeing yourself (Moon) in someone else (the Ascendent person). I've been very into studying synastries lately and it's always interesting how it plays out.

Anyway, now it makes sense why Sterling has a connection with Lana. Even though Lana isn't half as worse as Malory, I've always noticed their similarities. Like Lana, Malory used to be a kickass, spy lady before Sterling was born. They both have very sharp, stern personalities and are frequently annoyed by Sterling's existence. And in Sterling's case, it is true that you'll subconsciously seek out traits in a partner that are similar to your parent's.

Also, Sterling's unhealthy relationship with women & sex (unsuccessfully) fills up the empty hole inside of him that was supposed to be nourished by his mother's love as a child. This makes him fearful of intimacy and closeness, which is common with Sun nakshatra natives.

Malory's neglect is still a running gag in the series — she's emotionally hardened which is a prominent theme for Uttarabhadrapada (especially for the female natives). Being the middle nakshatra in the Pisces segment, it truly is the only Pisces that can struggle with intimacy, vulnerability or melancholic fluff. Which makes sense as Saturn is there. Luckily in Revati, there is more freedom and unrestrained expansion. There is a reason why Venus exalts in 27° of Pisces, where Revati lies. Revati is everything love and philosophical. Uttarabhadrapada isn't always comfortable expressing sentimentality, as they tend to be very self-restraint or outwardly hardened.

Anyway. I'm not done with the characters. I'll make a part 2 once I have the energy.

Ugh I'm sooo good at guessing nakshatras! LMAOO 😭

Especially moon nakshatras. I'm still so intrigued by moon men.

[hadesoftheladies]

FEMALE MOVIE/TV RECS (PART 2 / HISTORICAL FICTION/NON-FICTION)

got inspired from a recommendation post so decided to make a list of movies and shows with female-centric stories/female protagonists. since i can't post all of the genres in one post, i'll split it into multiple posts and y'all can save or add to the list as you wish. (disclaimer: i have watched most of these, but i only know about the existence of others. not every movie/show on these lists will be my recommendation. my recommendations will be beneath the list with reasons. also some of these are way better than others in terms of storytelling/performance--which is why i'll list my faves separately):

Common Themes of Media in the List:

-Workplace/general sexist discrimination

-Husband being pieces of shit and whiners

-Strong emphasis on sisterhood

-Romance plays a large part (both hetero and homo)

-Female genius and triumph

-Scheming mothers (always scheming)

-Grief, loss, and growth

-Motherhood is difficult but we pull through TM

HAVEN'T WATCHED:

Mozart's Sister

Lessons in Chemistry

The Conductor

Lizzie

Radioactive

Cable Girls

The Great

The Queen's Gambit

Britannia

Harriet

Mary Queen of Scots

ONES I LOVEDDDD:

A League of Their Own (9/10) (a favorite!)

Hidden Figures (8/10)

The Woman King (8/10) (a favorite!)

Anne With An E (9/10) (a favorite!)

Dickinson (8.5/10)

The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel (9/10) (a favorite!)

Gentleman Jack (8/10)

The Gilded Age (7.5/10)

HONORABLE (NON-LISTED MENTIONS)

The English (an english woman teams up with a native american cowboy to take revenge on the men who hurt them)

The World to Come (two women isolated by the wilderness and their husbands fall in love)

The Pursuit of Love

Colette

PERSONAL NOTES:

The Buccaneers is pretty feminist and wholesome, although oftentimes childish and full of Netflix cliches (even though it's an Apple TV original). It tries very hard to be Dickinson and Little Women but is a far cry away from Dickinson's edge and fierceness and Little Women's maturity and realism. It's more interested in appealing to Bridgerton audiences and its worse for it. But it's still full of the nice stuff, like strong female friendships and sisterhoods. Ooh, and lesbians! It's adamantly female-centric.

As for Little Women, I prefer the 90s version with Winona Ryder, but Greta did more justice to the source material than Louisa May Alcott herself in the new version.

The Book Thief and The World to Come are also tragedies, so you know. Ammonite, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Summerland and The Favourite are lesbians and bisexuals in their full glory, although all of them have vastly different tones (The Favourite is a dark comedy, I believe).

Speaking of The Favourite, Mary & George is like that but it's men vying for the affections of the king. Don't get it twisted though, Mary, George's mom, is the protagonist and primary mover of the show. It starts and ends with her. Also, more lesbianism! (I don't get tired of pointing that out.)

Belle is one of the few autobiographical historical fictions of a black woman. My dad and I love it. It, however, does not surpass The Woman King. The Woman King is like . . . one of the best historical movies on African women I've ever watched! Or just in general! It gives so much agency to African people in the colonial age and tells the story with nuance and perspective--it is a decolonized view on the slave trade that places West African people at the center. It's pretty intense and gory, though. Like it's dark, but like the performances are insanely good, and so is the story. Real life Wakanda and all that!

[fancychaostraveller]

I need to vent about the new X-Men97 show and about me being aro, so spoiler alert my darlings /!\

(And any bigot can joyfully go f*ck themselves thank you very much)

.

.

.

I viscerally need Rogue and Gambit to be the endgame, and if they aren't, it will crush me and do irredeemable damage to my mental health.

First and foremost because Rogueneto is not a thing in my head, since Cherik exists

But also, and more importantly, because Rogue and Gambit are inspiring together to me. They were the proof that physical touches isn't everything in a relationship (still are in some part of the episodes). This is so important to me, as an asexual folk. Like.... They mean the world to each other. Rogue is Remy's Queen of Heart and he is her Swamp Rat, they were there for each other when it matter, every single time through the og X-Men serie, and they bloody need to stay that way. Because at the end of the world they were the first they needed to check on. Because Rogue will always save Gambit first and he will always save her first.

And I know that Rogue's struggle with the fact that she can not touch anybody is a big part of her character development, and that she has every right to feel frustrated towards that, but I need them to endgame.

Because I need the reassurance that sex is not all that matter in a relationship (since they still hugs, comfort each other, love each other without it) and I need the reassurance as an ace person that not any potential lover would go around behind my back because of the lack of sex in a relationship.

Because my heart breaks everytime I see Gambit imagining Rogue and Magneto together, because I felt that in real life; because my sanity needs it, please let Rogueneto dies in a car crash and give me Rogue and Gambit together. ( I mean this. Someone crush rogueneto to the ground -without hurting any of them-)

That's it for now!

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [2]

Part 1!

Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.

You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.

Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently, and you take advantage of that.

Pairing: La Signora, Scaramouche, Sandrone, Pierro, Tsaritsa x GN! Reader

Note: Part 2 and final part of this series, I won’t do other Harbingers since I don’t really know how to write them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 is slightly darker than part 1 in terms of themes, but nothing too serious.

Warning: Mentions of violence and toxic behaviors.

★・・・・・・★

To Signora, you are a sharp sword, a trusted ally on missions in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

You've pledged your loyalty to the Tsaritsa, and with your streak of successful missions, there is no one to doubt your abilities.

Sometimes, there's a hint of playful teasing in your voice when you approach Signora, where you jest about treating her as you would to Her Majesty.

“My lady.”

When you bow before her presence, or when you knelt before her very feet, the power she feels is tantalizing, but who is she to deny?

Your offer, dangerous yet tempting, is nothing but a little gambit. It's clear that your loyalty runs deep, even if it means taking drastic actions to please Her Majesty.

Signora have heard the times where you were much violent and malicious, but even now the shadow of your past still lingers.

On her first and only mission with you, it was a moonless night.

You and Signora embarked on a covert mission together, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Your destination was a den of conspirators who dared to defy Her Majesty Tsaritsa’s rule.

As you infiltrated their hideout, your sharp senses and honed skills ensured that you moved with deadly precision.

In the midst of this operation, Signora observed your ruthlessness firsthand.

“Why hello there.”

A snap, followed by screams.

Those who disobeyed Her Majesty's orders were met with swift and uncompromising justice. Your actions were as cold as the steel of your blade, leaving no room for mercy when it came to protecting the interests of the Crown.

Signora, who had witnessed countless battles and covert operations, couldn't help but be both impressed and slightly unnerved by your unwavering dedication. She saw the depths of your loyalty, the lengths to which you would go to safeguard Her Majesty's reign.

As you and Signora emerged from the shadows, victorious in your mission, there was a palpable tension in the air.

You had a gentle smile on your face, as if you were on a leisurely walk. There were no stains of red on you, maintaining your professionalism and elegance.

“Dear Lady, I hope I haven’t disgusted you with my actions.” You pull out a handkerchief and gently wiped the blood by her lips.

You leaned close until Signora pushed you aside while rolling her eyes.

But you were unfazed by Signora’s action, for you think they are cute and quite adorable.

Like a cat who likes to scratch.

A successful mission as always, and just like usual, you fade away in the shadows to be by Her Majesty’s side.

Signora couldn't help but ponder the dangerous duality of your character—a loyal and deadly weapon in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

How frightening it would be if you were a double-edged sword.

To Scaramouche, you are a mask.

A mask that hides your true self.

A mask that you can put on others.

You play a unique role in his life, akin to that of a father figure.

You take care of him exceptionally well, providing support and guidance when needed. From the moment he joined, you were an inspiration, a listener, and a trainer.

Yet, Scaramouche knows your care is driven by pity. After all, he has told you many things (even when you told him nothing).

So what?

“My dear Balladeer.”

When he calls for you, you answer.

The Balladeer wears this knowledge with a smug demeanor, as if your special attention validates his worth.

“I would never betray you.”

The little head pats and the little nods. The cheeky little smile and the gifts he received.

“Happy birthday my little Balladeer.”

“Let this day be your birthday.”

With your special attention, it felt like a drug, something to keep him content in this dirty world.

You possess the remarkable ability to shapeshift into the very people he's encountered in his life, indulging in his elaborate fantasies.

“I’ll kill you!” Scaramouche cackled as tears flowed down his face, as a sword plunge deep into the Lord of Electro, Bal’s chest.

Blood spilled, but his laughter subsided.

Seeing Bal’s dead body brought so much pain but so much relief.

You brought him close to you in an intimate hug.

“Good job, my little Balladeer.”

Together, you both create a fake reality, one that you both know is built on falsehoods and pretense. It's a charade that you willingly participate in, if only for a fleeting moment.

A mask is easily put on, as it is easily taken off, you play this game of pull and push well.

But Scaramouche doesn’t mind, for he is too far in with this drug of yours.

But an illusion will forever be fake, and just like this relationship, it will never be real.

To Sandrone, you are a rose.

Something so beautiful yet deadly.

As the annual tradition went, Brighella entered Sandrone’s sanctuary of automatons, a place where gears and mechanisms whirred harmoniously, creating a symphony of mechanical marvels.

“My dear Sandrone. It’s that time of year again.”

“Brighella.”

Sandrone greeted you with a gleam of excitement in her eyes, for she had a unique fascination with you.

"I’ve been waiting for you," Sandrone smiled, her gaze locked onto you.

"You never change. I wish my automatons could be as pretty as you."

Her words were flattering, and as you stood there, she couldn't resist the urge to touch your face and body.

“You say that every time.” You responded and leaned forward to indulge her.

Her fingers moved with a delicate curiosity, as if seeking to understand the secrets of your agelessness.

From your eyes, to your nose and lips, she gently traced them with her hand.

With a sly smile, you decided to play along.

You took a delicate necklace from your pocket, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you carefully tied it around Sandrone’s neck. As your fingers brushed against her skin, you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching her ear.

"Shall we take this elsewhere?" You whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful suggestion.

Sandrone’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and anticipation dancing within her.

But how could she dare covet something that belongs to the Crown?

“Your Highness, I wouldn’t dare.” She says, though her hands drop to your neck, slowly tracing your collarbone as if she was a sly snake.

“A shame.”

You pull back with a cat-like smile, and she showed a face of frustration for a moment before dissipating.

“Now, shall we get to work?” You extend a hand, and she accepts it greedily.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

If only you could be her marionette, how nice would it be?

To Pierro, you are a candle.

“Do you seek revenge?”

A light burning so bright in his life.

Khaenri'ah.

Pierro remembers Brighella as a mysterious figure, yet a figure of power and privilege.

The Immortal, is what people called (worshipped) you as, and Pierro never understood why.

Until he saw the Immortal go against the Gods.

An indescribable, impossible scene of the battle of immortals.

But you fell from grace, as if the heavens were not by your side.

That was the last he saw you.

His light flickered and died.

At least that was what he thought.

In those tumultuous days, where he thought it was the end, you extended a hand to him, a hand filled with promise and a hint of mischief.

“The Immortal? But you perished?!”

With a wave of your hand in front of your face, you changed your appearance from a fallen warrior to a clean butler’s appearance.

“‘I’ have perished. But who says ‘I’ cannot be reborn?”

Brighella smiled, a smile that held secrets and intentions known to no one.

“My name is Brighella, won’t you come with me and defy fate?”

It was an offer of partnership, an invitation for Pierro to seek revenge together.

Who was he to deny?

Pierro, brave and determined, took that hand without hesitation. Pierro had never regretted that decision.

You two had a transactional relationship, a give and take as you will.

It may seem distant, but to the both of you, it was enough to get work done.

Time connects the two of you like a thread, and even if Pierro wishes to, he couldn’t stay away from you.

Because he was like a moth to a flame.

You who shined so brightly, and him who would protect your light. Taking on your tasks in secret and ensuring you have the best of everything.

Over the years, your paths diverged, and Pierro went through profound changes. Life molded Pierro into someone unrecognizable from the man Pierro once was.

Yet, you remained unchanged. Time seemed to have no hold over you.

You was the constant in Pierro's ever-evolving world, a mysterious figure who transcended the years.

Perhaps that was your role, to be the remnant of the past.

A reminder of their purpose and their reason.

And Pierro didn’t want that to change. Ever.

To Tsaritsa, you were like a mirror.

A mirror that revealed who she truly was beneath the crown and the title.

One who had traversed the world and learned of the dirty secrets just as she did.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

Tsaritsa saw not just followers but molds, reflections of a world that had shaped her reign.

Tsaritsa sat on top of her throne with elegance, her expression as cold as ice.

“Brighella, report to me on the Harbingers.”

You smile, one of professionalism and acknowledgement.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Out of all of her subordinates, you who have stayed by her side since eternity, are the only one she ‘trusts’ the most.

You were her shadow, her sword, her ever-vigilant guard dog, and no one else could lay claim to what was rightfully hers.

Not even the other Archons could dare to lay your hands on you.

“Your Majesty, may I?”

Tsaritsa returned a nod, and you quickly ascended the steps to her stone and knelt by her feet.

You glanced up, admiring the cold beauty of your master before lowering your eyes to her feet.

Tsaritsa never understood why, perhaps it was your shrewd nature or your hidden desire. Or was it your pursuit for power?

Even now, she could not fully comprehend your heart.

However, she has your loyalty.

Your loyalty was a pledge sealed with unwavering dedication. That was all Tsaritsa required of you.

A gesture that transcended words, you kissed her feet as a symbol of your eternal bond, a testament to the power of their connection in a world where power was everything.

“Your Majesty, I am your guard dog. Use me as you see fit.”

You smiled so brightly, only with her, as she is the only one that can understand you.

“I’ll bring the world down to your feet.”

[lesbianpraetor]

Extra Extra Initial thoughts about Furiosa now in bullet point format Summary the movie made me want to write several essays about George Miller's brain, but also I wish somebody had rained him in just a little bit. Spoilers Ahead!

-It was super obvious that George Miller was trying to expand images that he couldn't show in the first (fourth?) movie. Speciallyyyyyyyyy the History Men, Miss Giddy in Fury Road was a character by herself, but now the archetype is well and truly established with a very specific cosplaying Saruman in the desert with tattoos vibe. Also showing in detail the other two citadels, showing the green place, showing the absolutely vile way that the wretched live, going in depth with the war boys million other things as well. I personally loved it and the picaresque sense it gave the movie.

-The citadel looked soooooo similar to Fury Road it was eerie, since everything else looked so different. But I think it made an important point about stagnation and how the men at the top will keep killing the world for as long as they possibly can only even changing their methods when forced to.

-There's a whole extra movie in the vault about how exactly the wives that were there ended up disappearing. how the politics of it changed from women desperately trying to stay there to have the high life to five women deeply committed to their own liberation (with little Cheedo being the only detractor in retrospect when she is spooked by the wider world). I feel like there is a whole lit fic novel in there about them reaching a breaking point. Maybe a situation where Joe throws out all of them and only keeps the very very best because I counted a whole 11 woman in that vault, maybe the Wives from Fury Road are kidnapped all since wretched woman would not be able to give birth without any deformities? Is Angharad that inspiring? I don't think it's the first one because the fact that woman that chose to be there then decided they didn't want to live as things is much more powerful

-the other extra movie is how exactly Furiosa befriended the wives since she actually didn't spend that much time in the vault itself. I did feel it weakened my favourite reading of Fury Road a little bit, but oh well that always happens with new instalments.

-Talking about Furiosa I'm actually so deeply sad that they casted Anya Taylor Joy for this, not even because she did a bad job, although I think Young Furiosa did a much better job, but because I have watched Queens Gambit so many times that her mere presence made me think about the movie in Doylist terms. She also just seems too Holywood? I don't know there was something about her face that made me think that she was CGIed it was too smooth. Did she even shave her head? I felt Furiosa would not have let it grow out in between escaping the vault and joining the war rig crew, and don't tell me she couldn't, everyone else had short hair Praetor Jack had a nice salon haircut. But the acting itself was good! I actually think it was an effects and direction issue.

-Since we are talking about casting Chris Hemsworth did work for me and I'm questioning if I'm having internalized misogyny about him working better than Taylor. Maybe it was the copious amounts of beard, or that he wasn't the main character but I could really inmerse myself in his character and his parallels to not Furiosa, he was a fucking lying piece of shit about that, but to Immortan Joe. Can't quite articulate waht it was exactly but I think it hit whatever Miller was trying to hit with him. Although my favourite casting was the people I didn't know from anywhere, specially Mary Jo Bassa and the Biker Crew. Burn down the media establishment where we even see actors outside of their characters, it ruins the movies.

-Most viscerally hated character from that movie was the organic mechanic though, instant visceral disgust coupled with professional disdain at this point. You are trying to tell me you couldn't even try to steam the bleeding of the man's throat? you are trying to tell me you are giving birth on the floor like a fucking amateur? he probably didn't even know the anatomy necessary to start trying to close a neck wound. And it's cannon now that he didn't create either Immortan Joe's or Rictus breathing apparatus, because they already had them before the prisoner exchange. Absolute charlatan, no this has nothing to do with me still being pissed as hell as to how he treated Angharad what are you talking about? There's one man in the movie that instantly made me think in Watsonian terms I hate his guts so much.

-And in general I felt the hypocrisy of even the men trying to be kind to Furiosa much more keenly in this movie, which is to say that I did like Praetorian Jack as the pinnacle of the archetypical road warrior and parallels to Max are very interesting and I adored how it created even more parallels to Furiosa and Max's character development in the two movies. But, I don't know, there's something about how he carried himself with Furiosa that rubs me the wrong way I just can't quite place how, might need a rewatch. Anyway Furiosa's crush on him that honestly seemed pretty unrequited from his part was fun, although I hope people don't make it the most important part of the movie (it honestly reminding me of Cheedo and the Dag, they even had a similar was it a stolen kiss moment? but I digress, the parallels between him and Max were much more interesting)

-Back to the topic of the wives there was a moment in the beggining when Mary Jobasa didn't kill the woman who claimed to be a mother and then she betrayed her, which both shows the kind nature of the green place, how it really doesn't work like that in the wasteland and how exactly the vuvalini might have been so diminished in numbers. But my favourite part about this scene was when she said "I'm not to blame" that had to be on purpose because I wanted to shout at the screen " THEN WHO KILLED THE WORLD?" so bad. The fate of the world really hinges on the simplest choices since without that little bit of snitching they just get to go home.

-Honestly just Mary Jo Bassa appreciation, she died on the third day but damn what impressive three days. If I write fic it's going to be about her and Furiosa's other mother, who made the movie pass my personal Bechdel Test with the true purpose of the original Bechdel test, to woman talk to each other in a way that let's you see the Lesbianism in their eyes.

-The scenery of the green place definitely deserves a mention as well, it felt so tiny! it felt so different from everything else of course, they didn't linger to preserve both the runtime and the feeling of it being a place almost from Furiosas's dreams. But from space it felt tiny! the space shot of the outback with the most minuscle amount of green made it feel so deeply vulnerable, and the presence of the crows everywhere made me genuinely emotional. It did clearly have enough of everything to survive and for people to thrive and be super healthy, but it seemed like every millimeter was planned to the last detail to be of the best use.

-Honestly I think the relationship between Furiosa and her mother was the beating heart of the movie, I definitely liked the first third more than anything, it felt the most like something new and fully immersed not only in the setting of Fury road but honestly more of Road Warrior in way?, I don't know closest I got to crying was at Mary's death and her little good girl when furiosa killed a man to protect their home was the cutest most uwu part of the movie. Not to mention revenge of her death is the entire point of the final confrontation.

-Also I have to mention Mr. Norton. Mr. Norton I'm free on saturday for tying up to a motorcycle, I'm sure everything you did was totally justified and also super hot, thank you for your dirty rabid woman duties it was fucking awesome how you shot a man and the quartered your former boss.

-Last comment before I forget, that scene where Jack was killed had impressive Hector vibes. Tied to the back of the chariot while hounds eat you and disfigure your corpse? More to add fuel to the fire of George Miller adoring archetypical images, and I do too no complaints, it was gut-wrenching when I realized what was going to happen. The Horde in general had a mixture of Greek Charioteers and Mongol horde I really loved it.

-Also their first fight scene together where they work seamlessly together and then Furiosa threatens his life? classic crazy wasteland, you and Max really were identical. It also cements my idea that the movie is Fury Road backwards, since Max threatened Furiosa's life first and then they seamlessly worked together. I'll have to find where all the beats parallel and how they fit together, to see if I'm right.

In Conclusion honestly excellent movie, I didn't leave with the deep emotions Fury Road made but how much it's making me think about it is deeply appreciated.

[traveler-at-heart]

Red Wine Supernova

First Wanda x Fem!R fic ever from me. Inspired by Red Wine Supernova. If you haven’t listened to this song, DO IT NOW!!!!

Summary: Wanda doesn’t have time for friends or fun... until you come along.

A/N: Fluff, set after Age of Ultron with canon divergence. 

I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya

Mini skirt and my go-go boots (uh-huh)

I just want you to make a move

So slow down, sit down, it's new

Red appears between her fingers. Wanda throws around the small ball of energy, her eyes reflecting the beams. 

This one is small, barely fitting between her fingers. But what if it was bigger? What if she was angry? Or sad? 

What then?

A plate is set down in front of her and she looks up, red dissipating. You smile reassuringly.

“It looks like you could use some pie”

“I--”

“Don’t worry, I signed an NDA. I can’t talk about anything I see or hear” you wink, going back behind the bar.

Even Earth’s mightiest heroes need someone to make decent coffee.

The Compound’s cafeteria is practically deserted, but Wanda still hesitates to pick up her plate and sit closer to you on a stool. 

“Hi” you greet again, and this time she smiles.

“Thank you for the pie” 

“Of course. Everything ok?”

Wanda shrugs her shoulders.

“I just don’t know what to do with all of this… is it power? Is it magic? I can’t understand it. And no one else knows either”

“Not knowing can be scary,” you agree, leaning down against the counter.

“I don’t like it”

“Not knowing, or magic? Because I was really hoping I could cheer you up with a magic trick” 

“Rabbit in a hat?” you show her a coin and she nods. “I’m all eyes”

“Now you see it…” you say, closing your fist with the coin in your hand. Next time you open it, it’s gone. “Where do you think it is?”

“Let’s see…” she inspects you, and you try not to squirm under her stare. “Here” she takes your left hand and opens it, only to find it empty.

“Strike one” you say, trying not to blush when she’s still holding your hand. Wanda looks under her plate. “Strike two… and three” you say when she checks her hoodie’s pockets. “And now, the big reveal”.

You lean forward, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. Your fingertips trace her skin and Wanda giggles, until you show her the coin.

“I’m impressed” 

“No, you’re not, you knew where it was the whole time” 

“I did” she laughs, which makes you laugh as well.

--

Wanda becomes a regular, at least on the days you’re working. Apart from the Avengers, there’s always new recruits from SHIELD, Maria or Director Fury stopping by. The one constant is Pietro, always coming at the end of the day to eat anything that’s left over. You don’t understand how he can be in shape when he eats like that.

So, when you’re not making coffee, you’re either studying while Wanda reads or you’re playing chess, something she enjoys greatly. 

“Are you even trying?” she says at the third time she beats you.

“Excuse me, Beth Harmon”

“Who?”

“You’ve never read The Queen’s Gambit?”

“No. What?” she says when you keep staring.

“What’s your favorite movie?” you lean forward.

“I don’t have one”

“Not even a rom com? Chick flick?”

“You’re making up words now” Wanda rolls her eyes and pulls away, but you keep her in place, your hand on hers.

“No, no. Just putting two and two together”

“Hope it’s not about the Avengers. You signed an NDA, Y/N” Natasha warns, coming out of literally nowhere.

“Yes, Agent Romanoff. Your usual?”

The woman nods and you begin to make her caramel macchiato. Who knew the spy had a sweet tooth.

You hand it over in a dark cup, because she still has a reputation to keep.

“Say, would you like to attend movie night?” you ask Wanda, aware that Natasha’s still listening as she adds even more sugar to the beverage.

“What’s that?”

“My friends and I do it once a week. Watch some classics, get popcorn and pizza”

“I’m not sure that Steve…” 

“That is a great idea!” Natasha interrupts, her arm around Wanda. “You should go out more. Make friends” 

“Really?” Wanda looks at you and smiles. “Ok, sounds good” 

“Awesome, I’ll text you the address. Oh, Agent Romanoff?” you call as the woman walks away, smirking. “I saved you the last cupcake” 

“Put it on Tony’s tab” she says, winking at both of you.

--

There’s a knock at the door and you open it, your friend Laura smiling while she holds two boxes of pizza.

“Pizza’s here” you announce, moving aside and taking the boxes.

“Bitch, you’re supposed to say Laura’s here. And sound ecstatic about it”

“Oh, look, April’s here!” you ignore Laura, practically cheering as your other friend walks through the door.

“I hate you so much” Laura mumbles and you poke your tongue out.

“Just kidding, Laurie” 

“Yeah, yeah”

“Who’s on their period?” April questions, eyeing the insane amount of snacks on the kitchen counter. “I don’t have this on my calendar” 

“You track all of our periods?” Laura says.

“Of course I do, it’s how I know when to forgive you for being bitches” 

“No one’s on their period” your roommate and friend, Kate, finally walks to the living room, with a stupid smile. “Y/N invited her crush to movie night”

April and Laura screech so loud, you’re afraid your neighbors will call the cops.

They begin to throw all kinds of questions at you (who is she, what does she do, where did you meet).

“Everyone shut it. Number one, she is not my crush. Number two, I bought all this candy because I don’t know what she wants and I am being nice. And, last, if you are weird about this, I will never speak to you again. Understood?”

“Oh my God, you’re wearing makeup” April shouts.

“You’re so gay for her,” Laura squeals. 

There’s another knock at the door and the four of you turn to look, frozen in your spots.

“Go open it, you useless lesbian” Kate pushes you and you glare at her, before pulling it open.

Wanda meets your eyes and smiles, leaving you breathless. She’s out of her usual hoodies and dark clothes, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of skin tight jeans.

“Hi” you greet, leaning against the door.

“Hey” you stare and then she clears her throat. “Are you ever inviting me in or…?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Please come in” you move aside and as Wanda enters, you glare at your friends, who are giggling at your awkwardness. “Wanda, these are Laura, April and Kate”

“Nice to meet you” Wanda waves at them and Laura’s the first to step forward.

“Come here, I’ll give you the tour of the snack bar” 

“What are you two plotting?” you say to Kate and April when you catch them whispering.

“Nothing” they both answer too fast for your liking. 

Once Wanda is settled with a slice of pizza, you bring the snacks to the coffee table in front of the television.

April, Laura and Kate are quick to take over the couch.

“You guys can take the loveseat” Kate says, emphasizing the love part.

“I like to sit on the floor” Wanda says, taking some cushions to rest against them.

“Me too!” April says and you roll your eyes.

“Then why are you on the couch?”

“Because, Y/N, my butt hurts. Thank you for your concern”

“Come here, I promise it’s comfortable” Wanda smiles, pulling you down. You end up leaning against her as she puts some pillows behind you. “See?”

“Yeah, that’s uh… nice” you smile, aware of how close you are.

“So, what are we watching?” Kate scrolls and you’re the first to speak.

“I think Wanda would really like The Princess Diaries. What do you guys think?”

“Oh, yeah, we haven’t seen that in forever. And none of us are menstruating so we won’t cry during Mia’s speech” April says, chewing on popcorn. “You’re not on your period either, right, Wanda?”

“Ok, first of all” you turn around and throw an M&M at her. “Spoiler alert. Second of all, stop asking about whose vagina is bleeding and eat your damn pizza”

“Fine, but don’t ask for a tampon when you need it cause I won’t help you”

“I’ll survive, period fairy” you mumble and Wanda chuckles.

The movie begins and you relax, feeling Wanda’s warmth next to you. During some of your favorite scenes, you can’t help but turn to look at her, because you wanna know if she’s actually enjoying the movie. Her laughter makes your heart flutter and when she frowns at some of the sad parts, you have to stop yourself from hugging her.

Halfway through the movie, Wanda opens a can of soda that practically explodes all over her shirt.

“Shit” you say, pulling the can away from her. “Come here, I’ll give you another shirt”

“Sorry” Wanda apologizes to no one in particular and Kate eases her nerves.

“We’ll wait for you to keep watching”

“Come on” you take Wanda’s hand and lead her to your room. She looks around to the walls covered in pictures, the books scattered around and some of the posters from your favorite films.

“Sorry about the mess” you apologize. “Here, this should work” you hand over a t-shirt. “I’ll wait in the living room, ok?”

“Ok, thank you”

Wanda only takes two minutes but it feels like an eternity, your friends glancing and giggling as you blush. 

“Shut up” you lay on the floor, looking at the ceiling, but you sit up when your bedroom door opens.

Your face only turns redder as you see Wanda wearing your clothes.

“All done” she smiles and you begin to scoot over to make some room for her on the floor. “Stay” she asks, sitting against the couch and letting you rest your head on her lap.

The movie continues, only this time you’re closer to Wanda. The downside is you can’t see her reaction to the movie. At some point, her hands travel to your hair, running her fingers through it and you relax. It’s a miracle that you’re not snoring by the time the credits roll.

“What did you think?” you say, staying in place while your friends go to the kitchen and the bathroom.

“I really liked it” 

“Yeah? It’s one of my favorite movies”

“You have great taste,” she smiles.

“I do, don’t I?” you agree and Wanda laughs.

“Hey, lovebirds, what should we watch next?” Kate says as they all come back and you can see Wanda blushing.

“Wanda, what other things do you like?” Laura asks

“I… uh, watch a lot of sitcoms. Old stuff, honestly”

“Hey, why don’t we watch that Bewitched movie?” April says and you all nod.

But an hour later, your friends are fast asleep and Wanda seems to be more invested in drawing patterns against your skin than watching the movie.

“Not as good as the first one, huh?” you whisper.

“It’s just that Bewitched is a classic and I don’t think this does it justice” 

“I’ve never seen it” you admit and Wanda looks shocked.

“I love Lucy?” you shake your head no. “The Dick Van Dyke Show”

“Nope”

“You’re missing out”

“Well, tell me what to watch and I will”

“Maybe next time we can have movie night at my place?” she offers.

“Like a sleepover with Captain America and Iron Man?” you suggest and she laughs.

“No, it can be just the two of us. And maybe Pietro for a while. He’s too clingy”

“Awww. He’s just a good brother, Wands”

“Speaking of which,” she says, looking at her phone. “He’s here to pick me up”

“So soon?” you look at your phone, realizing it’s half past 12. “Oh, it’s actually late”

There’s a knock at the door and you both stand up.

“Want help cleaning up?” Wanda offers but you take her hand.

“That’s ok. They’ll sleep here and we’ll clean tomorrow”

“No, we won’t” Laura mumbles, stretching. “I’m gonna take your bed, Y/N”

“Awesome” you roll your eyes, knowing you’ll end up sleeping on the couch while Kate and April share her bed.

You open the door and Pietro shouts.

“Seestra!”

“Shhh, Pietro”

It’s too late, your friends are all up and eyeing him.

“What’s cooking, good looking?” April wiggles her eyebrows.

“This is Wanda’s twin brother, Pietro. Don’t harass the poor guy” you plead but he seems to be enjoying himself.

“What? Can’t I come over for next movie night?” he says with that charming accent.

“You sure can,” Laura says, standing behind you.

“Escape before they fight over you” you plead. Wanda laughs and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

“I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yes” you smile, leaning against the door.

“Bye, girls” Wanda waves at your friends.

“Bye, Wanda” they say in unison.

You close the door and lean against it, sighing. Three pairs of eyes are looking directly at you.

“What?” you snap.

“Your kids are gonna be sooooo cute!”

--

​​When Monday comes and you don’t see Wanda, you really think nothing of it. She’s probably busy because she has a life and of course, even if you don’t talk about it, you know she’s training to become an Avenger. 

You're hesitant to ask Natasha, because she scares the shit out of you, but Pietro doesn’t show his face either and Wanda’s phone is off. 

Against all of your survival instincts, you approach the subject when the Russian comes over for her fix of coffee and sweets.

“She’s… training”

“I just want to make sure she’s safe” 

“Steve is with them. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her”

“Ok. Thank you for letting me know”

Natasha is about to leave but she goes back to the bar, staring.

“Our lives are… complicated. We’re away for too long. Work calls and ruins plans. It’s hard for us. But also, for the people we love”

“I…”

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. She’s been through enough”

“I’d never hurt her” you say and she deems it enough, nodding and walking away.

--

Miss you, Wands.

Wanda stares at the text, unsure on what to answer. She missed you too, she truly did. For gay’s sake, she’s wearing the t-shirt you let her borrow as she prepares for bed.

Steve, Pietro, Sam and her had gone on to a simple mission that quickly turned into a battle.

She was barely able to prevent a bomb from hurting civilians. So much could have gone wrong and Wanda questioned if it was a good idea to drag you into her dangerous world.

Before she can keep on ruminating, she hears a pebble hit her window. Then another one.

Curious, the girl stands up from her bed to open it and looks down, where you’re smiling at her.

“Hi” you say, happy to see she’s back.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with a soft laugh. If she had her doubts, now that she’s seeing you, Wanda’s pretty certain she won’t be able to stay away from you.

“Come down and find out” you whisper, afraid any of the spies living in the Compound will arrest you for trespassing.

“Ok, let me just…” she begins to close the window to go down the stairs.

“No, not like that. Didn’t you tell me you could fly or something?” 

“I’m still working on that”

“Half the fun of sneaking out is going out the window. I’ll catch you” you promise. Wanda rolls her eyes and then breathes, trying to focus. You watch in awe as red begins to pour out of her delicate fingers, and she levitates out the window, descending towards you. “God, that’s actually really hot” you mumble, thinking she can’t hear you, but she does. Your words make her lose her focus.

Wanda widens her eyes as she realizes she’s about to fall face first but you run and make sure she lands on top of you.

“I promised I’d catch you” you laugh, your back on the ground. Her gaze softens as you place a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes quickly moving down to your lips.

You both lean forward, but a buzz in your pocket breaks the spell.

“Sorry” you stand up. Your friends are texting you. “Come on, let’s go”

“Where are we going?”

“To a party. Do you feel like it?” 

“You’ll stay with me?” she asks and you nod.

“Of course”

“Then let’s go” 

Across the parking lot, your friends are waiting in Laura’s car.

“Hit it, Laurie” you open the door for Wanda and slide next to her on the back seat.

“So, what is this party?” Wanda asks as April and Laura are arguing over where to park.

“Sorority thing, girls night”

“You’re in a sorority?” 

“No, we just like to go to their parties” Laura winks at her. 

“Are we meeting Kate there?” you say, enjoying how Wanda stays close to you.

“No, she said she had a date” 

“Looks like she had the guts to ask her crush out, unlike other people” 

“Shut it, April” you mumble.

“I’ll let that one slide because your period is in three days” 

“Can we please get to the party already?” you say, covering your face with your hands. Wanda laughs next to you. 

“This can count as a date, if you want” she says in a whisper, her lips grazing your ear.

“I…” your brain melts, but you’re at the party already and she’s quick to leave the car, smiling mischievously.

It’s exactly what she expected; loud music, girls dancing and red plastic cups with alcohol passing around. Laura and April go to greet some of your friends, while another spots and offers you two cups.

“Do you drink?” you ask Wanda and she shakes her head no.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea” 

“Gotcha” you empty her cup on yours and then take her hand, sipping the beer. “Let’s find something for you, then” 

The kitchen is equally crowded, but you manage to open the fridge and find some orange soda for Wanda.

“If it’s too much we can leave. Just say the word” you promise as she shakes her head to the beat of the music.

Truth is, she’s flush against you because people keep moving around you. Wanda keeps looking at your lips and you might be a bit out of it from the beer and the noise.

For the second time, you both lean forward and you’re once again interrupted.

“Y/N! What a surprise to see you here” Anna, a girl from your Sociology class shoves Wanda aside and presses her body against yours in an intense hug.

“Annie, hey…” you say nervously, afraid Wanda will send her flying across the room.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Wanda Maximoff” the girl introduces herself, going back to her place next to you.

“Nice to meet you, Wendy”

“It’s Wa…” you correct her but Anna interrupts you.

“Are you up for a game of beer pong? After all, I beat you last time” she winks. You remember perfectly, you were very drunk and couldn’t throw any balls the right way.

“I think we’ll just walk around or dance” you take Wanda’s hand but Anna insists.

“Let’s make a bet. If I win you go on a date with me” the girl looks at you, clearly not giving up.

“Go,” Wanda says suddenly. You turn to look at her, afraid she might be upset. Instead, she’s smiling. “Let her get it out of her system. And if you win, I promise I’ll make it worth it” 

Wanda grabs you by the chin to make sure you’re paying attention to her words. You swear she’s hypnotized you with her intense stare. 

“Ok” 

Luckily, this time you’re not drunk and you manage to hold your ground. You’re 3 to 1, so you’ve only had to drink a cup of beer.

Anna throws a ball and you swear you see a red sparkle. The ball ends up on the floor instead. 

“Are you…?” you turn to Wanda and she laughs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go on, win this thing so I can give you your prize”

The next ball you throw is a double bounce so Anna has to drink two cups. The last one standing is in a corner, the farthest from you.

Laura and April join your side, cheering for you. They’re not particularly fond of Anna and they may have a bet on whether or not Wanda and you are getting together tonight.

“Go, go, go, go” they chant as you prepare to throw the last ball. It feels like an eternity as it travels across the table…

“Yes!” you shout as it falls inside the cup. As you turn to look at Wanda she takes your face in her hands, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss.

“You owe me ten bucks, bitch” Laura shouts at April.

You don’t understand what their words mean, and you don’t care either. There’s nothing in the world but Wanda, her scent, her lips, her hands traveling down to your neck. You break apart, chest heaving and she smiles.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you say and she nods enthusiastically. 

“Thought you’d never ask” 

Laura throws her keys at you.

“Hurry up, lovebirds. We’ll get an Uber”

Wanda shrieks as you carry her bridal style out of the room, knocking cups and kicking people in your way.

--

It’s even messier once you make it to your apartment, throwing away the keys and closing the door with a kick. Wanda slips your jacket off your shoulders, hurriedly pulling you by the belt loop of your pants to your bedroom. Your lips remain connected, the kiss turning into something rough and desperate.

“Is that my shirt?” you ask when she throws away her own coat.

“Come and get it” is the reply you get. 

You’re sure you’ll pass out with the way her voice sounds, sultry and low. There’s even a hint of the Sokovian accent that she tries so hard to hide.

Finally, you find the way to your bed, and you let her fall on it, while you remove your own shirt and she discards her clothes. By the time you’re done with closing the door and dimming the lights, Wanda is left in only her underwear.

“God, you’re so perfect” you mutter, crawling between her legs. She blushes, but allows you to get closer, holding your head between her hands. “Hi” you say when she keeps staring at you.

“Hi” Wanda bites her lip, drawing attention to her mouth. You follow the action and lean forward, this time kissing her gently. You leave a path of kisses down her neck, between her breasts and her navel when she shudders.

“Киса, you’re making me feel so good” she purrs and your brain turns to mush. You make a mental note to ask her what that word means.

“Wanda? Are you there?” someone screams at the apartment door. 

“Oh, no!” the girl straightens her back at the same time you do. There’s a swirl of red magic around you and at the blink of an eye, you fly all the way to the living room.

“Fuck” you say as you land. Next thing you know, Captain America is breaking into your apartment, while Wanda steps into the living room semi naked. Everyone’s screaming while you stay on the floor.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Wanda shrieks as she runs back to the room to put some clothes on.

“You were missing!”

“I wasn’t missing, I was with Y/N!”

They sound like a father and teenage daughter when they argue like that.

“You ok?” Natasha approaches, helping you up. You’re vaguely aware that you’re shirtless, the only thing covering your breasts a red lacy bra. The redhead whistles playfully. “Wanda’s got good taste”

“Nat, don’t flirt with my girlfriend!” 

“Girlfriend?” you repeat with a smile.

“Hurry up, we’re leaving” Steve commands.

“Now hold on a second” you stand between him and your bedroom door. “The sneaking around was my idea and I know it was wrong. But Wanda deserves to have a life. Friends, fun… What’s good about saving the world if you can’t enjoy it?” 

“Can you put on a shirt?” he mumbles, looking at the ceiling.

“No, I will not. You were breaking and entering, Captain”

“So were you, back at the Compound!” he snaps.

“Come on, Rogers. She’s got a point” Natasha says. “Let the girl live a little”

“Fine. We’ll pick her up in the morning”

“Or, I could drive her back after breakfast” you offer. 

“And once you’re there, we will discuss some rules”

“Deal” you offer your hand but Steve keeps looking up.

“Let’s go find Pietro. The other Maximoff runaway” Natasha says, pulling Steve to the exit.

“What about Pietro?” Wanda finally steps out of the bedroom, handing you a t-shirt.

“Yeah, what about him? I’m right here” he walks in, Kate by his side.

“That’s your date?” you point at both of them.

“Oh my God, did you finally get laid?” Kate squeals when she sees you half naked and Pietro gags. 

“I did not need to know that about my sister” he turns to Steve and puts a hand over his shoulder. “So, about stealing your motorcycle, you understand it was for a good cause, right?”

“Have fun” Natasha winks and you blush.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wear my noise canceling headphones” Kate promises, retreating back to her room. You’re left alone with Wanda, in the middle of the living room.

“That was something” 

“Yeah” 

“Come back to bed” she asks with a shy smile, taking your hand.

“Promise not to throw me across the room this time?”

“Yes, Киса” 

“Hey, what does that mean?” you say as you walk back to the room.

Wanda turns around, eyeing you seductively.

“Be a good girl for me and I might just tell you” 

I heard you like magic

I got a wand and a rabbit

So baby, let's get freaky, get kinky

Let's make this bed get squeaky

[arachnixe]

An End To Fate

The goddess watches while her chosen hero arrives at the culmination of his journey. He’s so close now. All he needs to do is raise the amulet and speak the invocation, and the goddess’s great enemy will at last be vanquished.

And yet, he collapses instead. He fails.

Another bad end.

The goddess rolls her eyes with contempt for how easily the demon queen undermines his purpose this time. She claims him, twists his mind and body to suit her disgusting whims, and uses him to repel the lesser knights the goddess sends to reclaim him.

She rejects this outcome the same way she rejected all the other tragic failures she watched play out.

Gripping the Fate-Ending Knife, she reaches as deep into the world as her influence stretches, and with a savage slash she severs this timeline. It thrashes, bleeding raw possibility over her hands as she pulls time’s amputated limb out of the world and tosses it into the pile with all the others.

Events reset. The fated hero is a child once again, full of potential.

And again the goddess laments her inability to reach further back. If she could reset to a point early enough, perhaps she could have chosen another soul altogether to lavish her attentions upon. This one has clearly not lived up to her ambitions.

She sighs. A garden of souls at her disposal, and she wasted so much of her time, power, and attention on one that should’ve been weeded out. She tried abandoning him as a lost cause on several timelines, but all would-be heroes without such soul-cultivation fared even worse. It seems there is no changing that choice now, unfortunately. All she can do is tweak his life’s path and hope things turn out differently.

Keeping him away from degenerate influences on his childhood has become a dance she knows well. She could do the steps in her sleep now. A tragic lightning strike kills the cross-dressing tailor before they meet. His tomboy sister drowns in the river before she decides to act on her more perverse inclinations. Then one of her more fanatical priests feels inspired to show the chosen one kindness when he loses himself in mourning.

Then the goddess falters, unsure what to change this time around. She has tried so many different strategies, none of which fundamentally changed the outcome of this conflict.

Well, perhaps there is one gambit she might take. It may be risky, but what does she have to lose?

When her chosen hero reaches adulthood, just as he grows ready to face the start of his destined journey, he is thrown from his horse in a tragic accident. He does not die, but he comes very, very close—close enough for her to snatch his soul from the world for a moment.

In her hands he stands—his soul taking a form matching his body at the time of his accident—looking up at his goddess in awe.

The goddess smiles down upon him. “How nice to finally meet you face to face, my very favorite waste of effort.”

It is her hero’s turn to falter, face twisting into a pathetic contortion of confusion, but why hold back now? The goddess finally has the chance to tell him exactly what she thinks of all his failures, and she decides to take advantage of it.

“I gave you everything. Every advantage. Strength unrivaled by all. I protected you. I guided you. You could have been unstoppable if you just put genuine effort into applying what I gave you.

“But you let me down. You disappointed me. You squandered all that potential.”

Tears flow down his cheeks. Her hero, crying! Such a pathetic display. “What have I done wrong?” he asks her.

Of course he doesn’t know. In this lifetime he hasn’t done anything to disappoint her yet. He will, though. That much is certain. Unless, of course, he could learn from his past mistakes.

The goddess drops him unceremoniously in front of the wretched tangle of dead timelines. They still quiver and shake and twist into each other in a huge, writhing pile.

The hero’s eyes widen, taking in countless lifetimes of failure.

She watches his soul’s projected form flickering, shifting between his body’s appearance in one timeline after another as his soul experiences the disappointing paths he walked, lifetime after lifetime.

Each shift, each flicker of shape, changes him slightly less than the one before as he approaches a more resilient average of all his self-images.

The goddess scowls, recognizing the body the hero slowly approximates. It’s one she always does her best to steer him away from. Sometimes it’s the tailor that puts the idea into his head, sometimes it’s his sister, sometimes it’s any number of others, and sometimes she truly has no idea where he gets it from.

Once it’s in there, he pursues the obsession with more devotion than he ever shows her.

In those lifetimes he is taken by this confusion, he finds the magic or the alchemy to reshape his body into something mangled and feminized, or else he is offered such a body during his confrontation with the demon queen in exchange for his allegiance. The goddess is never more disgusted with him than when he accepts such an offer.

And here he is, once again choosing to throw away the body she crafted for him to inhabit—ungrateful for it, even—in some mindless craving to be something he is not.

“Even now you fail me, learning the wrong lessons from your mistakes,” the goddess says. “Next time I will have to be more selective about what lifetimes I show you.”

Her fated hero—a man again grotesquely in the shape of a woman—turns to face her.

She sees no more reverence in his eyes. The groveling posture of an inexperienced whelp is replaced by the confident poise of a warrior who’s fought countless lifetimes of battle.

His glare is as blasphemous as his form.

“Every opportunity for happiness,” he says, voice higher pitched than it was when she pulled him from his life. “You erased them. None of my wives ever knew me now, or they no longer exist thanks to your meddling. My true goddess does not even remember my faithful service.”

“She is a demon, you pathetic good-for-nothing,” the goddess rasps, voice filled with spite. “I am your only true goddess!”

“You’re the one who took away all my happy endings!” The hero’s shouting catches her off guard. It is not as small as it should be.

When did his soul’s stature grow to where he could stare his own goddess in the eye with such venom?

The goddess’s eyes flick to the knife resting nearby. It has become time to end this attempt.

The hero parses the glance immediately. Many lifetimes of battle-hardened instincts explode into action.

The goddess, a being who had never fought her own battles in her immortal life, is simply too slow and too clumsy to stop the hero. Before she can react, the knife is pressed to her throat.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

The hero dares. With a savage slash, the Fate-Ending Knife spills a goddess’s blood, and a mortal woman takes control of her own life for the first time.

She can return to her body at the point they resuscitate her, bringing all this knowledge with her.

Or…

She stares at the knife in her hands. She remembers countless lifetimes of goddess-inflicted scars.

The hero makes up her mind.

Without hesitation, she reaches into the world—as deeply as she can—and severs this timeline.