#there is something very freeing about painting clouds

[hazycorvus]

Soaring ever skyward, with a heart unclouded

(Available as a print !)

[stareiiez]

You're Mine, Now and Forever

notes: first actually long fic for this fandom, and its giving a slow start. don't worry! it gets better from here. also idk how I feel about this style of writing, it feels off. idk.

warnings: MINORS DNI.

words :3.3k

chapter two

You don't know how it happened, or how much time passed when the first scream ripped through the air and the first bloody body collided with your frantic driving on the express lane outta town. After all, it was just supposed to be like any other day, with you spending your time at work during a slow hour; organizing and reorganizing dresses for what felt like the nth time that hour just so you looked productive. Pop music filtered slowly through the store's speakers and you hummed to the few lines you knew of Chappel Roan's new hit song. The two customers milling around the clearance section chatted to another one of your coworkers across the store, and your manager was at the cash register, scrolling through logs of ordered clothing items to make sure they were in stock in the store's catalogs.

It was a boring day. A lunch break was the motivation for you to continue mindlessly nitpicking at full clothing racks when the first explosion shook the very building. The music stuttered glitching just to accompany the flickering overhead flourescent lights. Then another explosion follows soon after, a deep heavy boom that sinks into the soles of your shoes and rockets up your spinal cord to shake your back molars. Your mouth wants to open, to ask the obvious ' What the fuck was that?" out loud like every stereotypical blonde that questions the bloody scream they heard in the middle of the night in every 90's horror movie. But the chorus of screams and chaos answers your inner thoughts instead. Screams of fleeing citizens running away from whatever danger caused the very ground to shake, and smoke to plume into clouds upwards.

"Stay back, " your manager barks to you and three other women who cower together in a small huddle. She walks towards the still rattling glass doors of the store. A shared fear decorates your faces as you all watch with bated breath; the two sets of wide doors swing open, and your manager steps out into the chaotic mass of running bodies that swarm past her.

Horror paints her face when she sees the source of the destruction. Her head is tilted backward and jaw slack, her amber eyes the size of marbles, she's rooted to the spot. You're surprised she's not knocked off her small feet with every push and shove she endures. "Oh my god." Your ears strain, eyes focused on the way her mouth moves over each syllable with a slow, shocked pace. You're not blessed with reading lips, but you'd like to think that adrenaline fuels your brain enough to make out the word 'Invincible' before the ground shakes again.

This time, the destruction targets your building particularly. One second you're standing and the next, you're knocked on your ass washed away in a wave of shattered glass and minuscule pieces of asphalt and rubble that spray into your vicinity. The outside world, once muffled by plexiglass, screams with sirens, and people running for their lives berate your ringing eardrums. Your front doors are destroyed and buried under brick-and-mortar rubble. Severed limbs stick out this way and at odd angles from the tight crevices of drywall and insulation. The dust makes your eyes water, and you choke on a scream that squeezes your throat something fierce. You like to think you're not consumed by the panic and the trauma of watching your manager and several others get crushed to death in a matter of seconds because Mark has gone off the deep end.

"Come on!" Your coworker's words bark at you. Suddenly she's at your side, in your shocked haze, she managed to be the functioning one out of the rest of your group. Her hands grab onto your forearm and yank all your dead weight to your feet. "We need to leave! I don't want to die here!" Her free hand holds onto the sobbing customer, the other woman accompanying her is missing. Surely buried under the rubble that caved in one corner of the dress store, maybe she was one of the hands that was reaching out from the concrete bloody mess. The thought makes you want to stop and vomit, your stomach curdles with how much stress and adrenaline swarms through your body in nauseating waves.

You follow her, not like you had a choice, she's pulling your trio towards the back of the store and the emergency exit. Her breaths are ragged and half-sputtering between prayers to some god she believes in that your only exit isn't blocked off either. "Stay here, I need to get the keys in the office." Your coworker says, dropping both of your hands. Her face is an ashy pale gray when she turns to give both you and the other woman a once over, checking to see if you're all in one piece and able-bodied enough to book it once she gets the door open. You must look just like her, the expression of unrestrained fear and cement particles dusting your face. Small streaks of blood trickle down your temples and nose bridge, thanks to the shards of plexiglass that rained over you in the third explosion.

You nod, swallowing down acidic bile that bubbles at the back of your throat. Your eyes linger on her small back when she makes a mad dash to the small back office down the hall. When she disappears from your line of sight, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It makes you jump right out of your ashen grey skin. The woman beside you startles as well, her hand clutching at her heart. "Sorry," you manage to whisper, while your hands scramble to the right back pocket of your jeans to dig out your phone. The now cracked touch screen illuminates too brightly, shining a picture of you and Mark Grayson posed in a goofy pose. Your fingers poised in a 'peace' sign, while the male was peeking out from behind your shoulder with his two pointer fingers raised above either side of your head. Your twin smiles look so carefree in the saved contact picture you have of him.

Your thumb taps on the green answer button, and you raise the phone to your ear. Mark's out-of-breath panting sends chills down your spine in some sickly worrisome way. Your name barks through the speaker of the phone, the continuous screams make it almost hard to hear him. "Mark? Mark, what's going on? " You don't even question why the hell he's calling in the first place, isn't he the supposed one murdering and tearing down the city? Isn't that why the people screaming his superhero name saw him wreak havoc?

"No time! Please tell me you're safe. ." a pause, his ragged inhale makes your heart squeeze in time with your clammy palm gripping the phone tighter to your ear. "Please."

"I'm fine." You copy his pause, brows wrinkle in thought. You know you're lying, you're not fine. You're dazed and confused, shaking in your sleek shoes. Your legs are unsteady and becoming more and more unstable, the comedown from adrenaline is going to be a fickle bitch that'll do you in if whatever happening outside doesn't kill you first. "I'm still at work, I'm waiting for the door to get unlocked as fast as it can be."

Even through the grey background noise on the other side of the line, Mark's sigh crackles through the call. You could picture his shoulders just dropping the tiniest inch in relief, that a loved one of his hadn't been hurt or god forbid, even slaughtered mercilessly in the devastation that had been going on. "You need to get out of here." His voice urges, tensely.

"Mark-"

"I'm serious!" His tone jumps, he's barking. Halfway yelling, and you flinch. The woman at your side reacts by recoiling, both of your nerves bouncing off one another like electrons bouncing off the walls of an atom. "You need to get the fuck out of here, find a car-- any car. Don't even think about hiding, you need to drive as far as you can outta here. You hear me?"

You swallow dryly, fingers squeezing tighter. Blood rushes in your ears, you know you can't argue. There's no way to get information outta him now, not when his words are clipped, whatever is happening outside is far more important and drastic than arguing with his girlfriend who's too stubborn to flee for her life without asking stupid questions. You're smarter than that, and he knows it. He's lost far too many things, and gone through too many traumatizing situations than to waste time and not save the people he loves. Your eyes close briefly, counting to three in your whirling hellscape of a mind. You nod like he can even see you. You can sense it's different now. This isn't some closed-off fight between Nolan and his son that trying to stand up to him and not ' ready the Earth' for the viltrumites to come. This is far more scarier, it's drastic and life-shattering. "What about you? People are screaming Invincible is causing this."

"Don't worry about me." Mark says, his tone more gentle than before, "Just run, I can handle them and if anything happens to me? Just know I love you, okay?"

Your breath hitches. You hate how that sounds; you hate the confession on his lips. It sounds more like a goodbye than him admitting his affection for you like he does every day so casually. It feels heavier on your heart, it rattles your bones, and the tidal wave of curdling bile in your stomach roars into a tsunami. You need to vomit. You need to yell at Mark and tell him to not talk like that. You want to tell him that whatever is happening outside can be handled by the two of you together, even if you don't have any powers. Yet, before you can even voice any of those options over the phone, the call ends with a sharp click. You don't know tears are dotting your waterline till you blink so rapidly that a few salty drops cut trails down your ashy cheeks. Gray water stains the front of your shirt, and your phone lowers from your ear. Your grip is loose on the device.

"Got them!" Your coworker calls out, jogging back to you and the other woman; the jangling keys clenched tight in her fist. You don't know if it adds to the hurt your heart is already holding onto when she doesn't acknowledge the distraught on your face. She's more focused on jamming one of the silver keys in the keyhole and twisting it to the right, the satisfying click and rough opening of the door rings in your muffled ears.

The woman shoves past the two of you without hesitation, making a break for it as fast as her forty-five-year-old bones can carry her. She won't make it far, she barely would last surviving running around the bend of the building before the crowd of citizens tramples her half to death in their need to live another minute longer. Any man for themself is a fickle bitch. Your head turns to your coworker as you follow suit, breaking into a jog. She's already following behind, her pace a lot faster. "Stay safe." You call to her when she breezes past. Her silhouette disappears when she blends into the waves of people, fighting against the current so she can get to some sort of safety before she gets crushed to death herself. Her kindness, her stupid jokes, and her natural leadership are all you're going to have to remember her by; if you live long enough to even see her again.

You run a different path, following the makeshift alleyway that's half crumpled down and now smaller in size, your shoes threaten to trip on jutting-out stone and rebar when you traverse too fast. Your heart thuds faster in your chest, brain running a million miles an hour on how to keep yourself from running further and further away from the manic crowds. Alley water splashes at your ankles, sinks into your shoes, and makes your socks stick to your soles. You cringe inwardly, pumping your legs harder till you too start to run. The small alley breaks out into wide open space, and sunlight and smokey skies greet your frazzled complexion. Crashed cars and abandoned vehicles greet you immediately, some are still smoking and burning. Hot oil and melted rubber don't do anything to quell the queasiness you've been fighting this entire day, but there's no stopping now.

Now, you have to leave. No matter who Invincible knock-off is causing this; they'll be busy fighting off Mark and his team. You run along the cracked sidewalk, eyes sweeping over the conditions of the vehicles.

The lessening of people crying for help is eery, the whole city should be shouting from the tops of their lungs. It's like everyone got wiped out in a matter of seconds, or on a lighter note, they're all hiding and being as quiet as possible so they don't die next. You expected to see clogged highways and people running along the highways seeking freedom, instead, there are only deserted streets and cars tipped over on their sides that you brush past in your search for a ride.

Finally, you spot a buggy. A cute little Volkswagon with dents decorating its doors, and still running. Its engine is the loudest thing in the pin-drop silence, even compared to your sneakers pounding on the pavement. You know it's stupid to take the bait, that some conveniently placed car is here while you were in the middle of your search. You like to think you're better than the dumb female lead of a horror movie, that falls for every trick and ploy the killer lays out for her; but you're desperate. You need to fulfill Mark's wish, that you get the fuck out here and run as far as you can. The leather seat squeaks under your weight when you throw yourself inside the car and shut the door behind you. The car's radio crackles with dead static over its speakers, it sends chills up your spine and only adds to the apocalyptic atmosphere your once-busy city has been subjected to.

You're a walking target. The last survivor of your bug colony that trying to outrun the burning magnifying glass held above your head by some sadistic fucking toddler. The realistic side of things is, that you won't live to see the outskirts of the city before the Invincible knockoff crushes you and your car into smithereens. It'll be quick and painless, but you would hate to be another headstone in a graveyard that your family and Mark would have to visit. That's if they can separate your body from twisted metal and leather. With bated breath, you shift the car from park into drive and slam your foot down onto the gas. Clammy hands clench the wheel when you speed down the streets. You weren't prepped to see the mass destruction that greets you with every twist and turn you made. Bodies littered the streets, some in one piece, others most likely ripped into multiple pieces and scattered over the road and sidewalks. Collapsed buildings and homes make you swerve and splash puddles of oil and blood on the car's exterior. Your tires have run over a body part or more not to crash; the squish of flesh being flattened unnaturally is unmistakable in your ears.

"This is so fucked." You whisper under the roar of your pounding heartbeat. The city limit sign seems to grow closer and closer to you once you hit the wide-open highway. The drive through the rest of the city was thankfully quick, and you still were alive and unharmed. It's a miracle.

Your hope swells and stirs in the pit of your stomach like acid-covered butterflies, you're going to make it. You're going to make it! The delirious bubble of laughter peels from your parched throat, you can't help it. However, that laughter dies just as fast as it came. Just when you were going to pass that beloved city limit sign that seems just in arms reach now, your car hits the dark blue blur that launches itself in front of you. Your foot doesn't react quickly enough to hit the brake, but somehow you're violently stopped. Your chest hits the steering wheel, forehead threatening to follow suit if it wasn't for the seatbelt yanking you back just in time to save you from a concussion.

"Well, and who do we have here?" A male voice speaks out, way too calm for your own disorientated liking. "Hey pretty girl, didn't know if I'd see you again."

Again?!

You blink quickly, as a hand rubs at your bruising chest. In front of you, is . . Invincible. His color scheme is the same, black and blue, but he looks different. His ears stick out, and his hair is hidden away by his suit. His smile which you thought was charming and shy, is replaced with a sick stretched look. He bares all of his white teeth at you like a predator intimidating its prey. In your heart you know this isn't your Mark, it can't be. Not with the way he doesn't move a single centimeter of his body, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. The man is so quiet like he's waiting for you to freak out or scream, yet you disappoint him when you don't do either option. Boring, all you do is stare at him. Jaw slightly slacked, brain whirring a million microseconds a minute. His smile, however, doesn't waver. No, not at all; of course his pretty girl has always been smarter than any bimbo bitch that cried out when he flew through their bodies and ripped them to shreds in his hands.

It's what he loves- - no, it's what he was obsessed over back in his world. It was a shame you didn't last long in his care, and now it's like a higher being is rewarding him for his hard work here in your world to plant you in front of him so suddenly. He's glad the others didn't get to you first, who knows who he would have had to kill off his variants to get to you. He rounds to the side of the car so smoothly, your eyes watching his every step. A hand smacks down on the roof of the car, adding to the multitude of dents to its being. His other hand grips the handle of the driver's side door and pulls it off as easily as peeling off a sticker from its page.

He bends at the waist, his face invading your space far too close to your liking. He can smell the waves of fear and the new spike of adrenaline leaking from every pore of your body. Your natural scent mixed in is an addicting concoction that he never seemed to get enough of, you smell the same. You look just like the one in his home world. He hit the jackpot. You flinch at his movements, leaning far back in your car seat.

"Who are you?" Fuck you sound just like her. Your voice exhales so quietly, warmed breath fanning over the lower part of his face. Delicious.

The Invincible doesn't respond, doesn't even emote as much as that smile you start to grow unnerved of. It's unnatural, just like this entire day. Just like you don't know what the fuck even happened to get you to where you are now, staring in the face of a clone of your beloved Invincible.

[gothhabiba]

Nosferatu (2024)

I'll tell you right now that I'm going to call everyone by their Dracula names because I'm sorry but I don't know the proper ones

The camera angle when the first Germany part of the movie opens! you're so in the streets, so in the crowds. idk if that's the cinematography or just that I haven't seen a film on such a large screen in a long time?

The scenes with Count Orlac in the castle and how civil he is in his speech (demanding to be addressed by his proper title; forbidding Jonathan to leave but saying "you will stay as I advise," not e.g. "as I command"), and how thin but impenetrable that veneer of civility is. For "civility" read here all of its implications of "civilisation"

The first scene of the ship being in perfect profile, sailing on a sunny sea with picturesque clouds in the background, just like a painting!! like an Age of Sail painting, and all the things about aesthetics, colonialism, depiction-as-claiming-of-ownership, that that implies.

And then the next time you see the ship, it's storming, the camera pans in from over the stern and forward, the ship is rocking, it's much more down in it, the sunny idealism of imperialist fortune-making brought down to its gritty reality

The East As Contagion (free square)

Major missed opportunity to make the ship more explicitly imperialism-flavoured

Female Sexuality As Dangerous And Inviting Contagion (free square)

Lucy and Arthur already being married and having children, specifically her being pregnant again, Lucy and Arthur as "heterofuture" (after @metamatar), reproductive futurity, him being a shipman, their money being conspicuous and being from shipping--

then Mina having one of her episodes just as they're about to kiss, in the water, dress pulled up, legs open to the water (to the Contagion From The East), convulsing--! Inappropriate female sexuality (inadequately contained, inadequately future-oriented, the West as future, heterosexuality as future, female sequestration in the home to raise children who are also appropriately heterosexual as futurity) and how inappropriate female sexuality interrupts the heterofuture that Lucy & Arthur's almost-kiss represents.

Lucy being very light in colouring and lit so as to emphasise that fact, obsessively dressed in white and placed in all-white rooms, versus Mina being dark in colouring (I mean of hair & eyes) and dress, reproductive futurity as whiteness

The Insane Asylum piquing itself as morally upright, scientific, humane, modern, future-oriented institution; the doctor's "don't lock him [Renfield] up, we don't do that here"--and then of course he stays locked up and restrained, and more so than he was before the doctor spoke to him (so gently and kindly and civilly)

Renfield caressing a bird Dracula had given him and saying "master likes the pretty ones," Mina as bird, birds in cages as metaphor for Victorian womanhood and sequestration within the home, Jonathan saying immediately when the men plan to go hunt Dracula down that Mina isn't going

Something about the drunk (?) man gently banging his head against a wall whom they have to pass to get to Van Helsing's, and this coming on the heels of the scene in the asylum

Mina becoming poorly specifically when Jonathan leaves, her saying that she's unwell because he's gone, Lucy saying "and Jonathan leaving caused your..." and Mina finishing "melancholy." When, like, obviously what's being elided here is the idea that Mina is unwell because she's sexually unfulfilled, the Victorian idea that once a woman has sex she has to continue to or she'll become physically and mentally unwell--a series of ideas you may be most familiar with under the heading of "hysteria."

Mina talking about her "epilepsies," insert everything about Victorian medical science versus popular culture and how ambivalently epilepsy was treated as effectively demonic and uncontrollable on the one hand, or subjected to modernising theories of disease (including and especially mental illness) on the other hand--

which, obviously, the "science versus popular superstition" is a significant part of what animates this. I think they brought this out very well & maybe even a little too explicitly

The fact that it is Germany's (England's) "modern" and "scientific" ideas that allowed this to happen, when Nosferatu had grown weak in Transylvania because of the superstitions of the local populace and especially the "g*psies"--I have to think about it more but there's a countercurrent in there somewhere--expressing anxiety not necessarily on behalf of, but about, "Western" modernity and heterofuturity

That Mina x Jonathan sex scene was so good even & especially because of the demonic possession / doing-it-to-prove-a-point thing. they're so endlessly devoted to one another and I love them so much

Needed an intermission. really really needed an intermission

Just the sexiest Dracula adaptation ever. horniest by far, by far. yes, even including that other one, which really wasn't sexy or horny at all imo.

Whoever was involved in making this movie is very, very familiar with Victorian anxieties and motivations and rhetoric and very, very psychosexually disturbed. perfection

My girlfriend complained that all the sex was missionary-style but I think that worked perfectly. For one thing, think of "missionary" and all the colonial implications there. The implications of heterosexual reproduction specifically within marriage that it carries. Also the implications of domination that come with being physically on top of someone, and the fact that the way Nosferatu feeds on Jonathan bears close resemblance to the way he feeds on & has sex with Mina--

then Nosferatu apparently telling Mina that Jonathan was "pathetic" and "weak" and "womanish"--!!!!!!! And the image of spread legs (recall Mina's scene in the water, also Lucy after her death) as surrender. If all the sex and quasi-sex scenes weren't so formulaically heterosexual in this particular way, these parallels wouldn't work as well.

And speaking of Jonathan, it's also interesting that his seduction-by-three-brides-of-Dracula thing is cut out to emphasise instead Mina's seduction by Dracula. We don't get any of that reference to his "indiscretion" (with Mina holding his hand sympathetically, forgiving, perfect angelic Victorian wife) that we get in 1992.

Stupid ending. there is never a good or poetic or touching reason to kill the woman at the ending of a movie. it's always stupid. like I get that she sacrificed herself to save everyone and took agency by reversing things so that inside, within the home, within the bed was where the war was fought, and outside, with the men was just a diversion and I get that this is an intentional subversion of the Angel-in-the-Home bird-in-a-cage situation. I still think it's stupid.

When Jonathan kisses Mina's hand as she's naked, covered in blood, legs spread, covered by the body of Nosferatu, and he pulls away, and he's so covered in tears and snot and saliva and all those liquids make so many stringy trails in the backlit space between her hand and his face as he pulls away. so so so good.

the sound design was incredible

[letmeinimafairy]

The making of painted stones

Well, a few times I was asked to show the process of miniature paintings on stones, and here is my first attempt to capture and explain it. Warning - I only have my phone's camera at my disposal, so the quality is not very good.

Firstly - an idea for the image. Every stone has something in its pattern that can be a starting point for developing an imagery. The stone I picked for this one is a beautiful Picasso jasper, and in this case I was looking for a stone for a specific idea I've already had in mind. Spontaneous improvisation dictated by the stone's pattern is also great but I decided to pick something more definitive for better illustrating the process.

This jasper's pattern already has outlines that can be developed into a landscape without painting it over too much. I don't like it when stones are just mindlessly covered by slapping a random image on it, ignoring the colours, textures and patterns.

Here's the idea - ruins of an amphitheatre overgrown with red gladioluses. I know, I know, but I'm very interested in the initial mystical sacrificial background of gladiators. So here it is, arena covered in red, swords in the sand, but it's finally quiet.

Before we start, a stone must be varnished - minerals are porous, and lacquer smoothes its surface. I paint with tempera - most artists who work in lacquer miniatures use oils, but tempera allows quicker process, which is important for me. I'm autistic and my executive dysfunction makes working with oils difficult - my sudden bursts of activity won't match with drying timings and such. So, tempera for me.

Starting with sketching the outlines of the ruins and painting our light source, the sun and red clouds. I'm trying to work with a palette that the stone already has and make the painting as harmonious as possible.

Erasing auxiliary lines as we continue.

Done with the first layer - the walls and the sky. After the paint dries, I apply varnish (I use Novol clearcoat, car varnish - it's very durable). There can be as many layers as you need.

Now - the flowers and details.

After the painting is finished, it'll need several layers of varnish. And some fine sandpaper (1500) in-between the finishing layers for better grip.

And here it is! time to think abou a necklace for this one.

I'm not sure how useful I can be and what aspects you would like to know, so feel free to ask. I'm not sure I can make a good enough video with my current phone, so this'll have to wait. I tried to skip all the musings about ideas and finding stories, but whatever. And the time needed for work - I don't know. There was a month-long pause in the making of this one, due to a couple of emergencies that knocked me down for some time, and it's not easy for me in general due to my mental state - sometimes I can make a painting in two days, sometimes it takes years, nothing is certain with me, especially now. But well, here's what I do.

[yan-lorkai]

Hey Lorkai <3

I would like to request Sebastian x female noble reader darling, who gets treated horribly by her family, abused physically and emotionally. (Relationships weren't quite healthy back then in the victorian era as far as I know) And even abused by her fiance, she doesn't like him but will have to marry him in the near future due to being forced. So when kidnapped by Seb she's just constantly stressed and unsure, perceiving everything as a threat because of past experiences. Darling doesn't try escaping though, since she has nowhere safe to go. Also very quiet and apologizes way too much for things she doesn't need to say sorry for.

I like angst with a little fluff <3

It's completely alright if you don't feel like writing this :3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟ a/n: hihi darling! It's been a while since you requested this, and I finally found time to finish it. I apologize for the delay, and I hope you enjoy it!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟ warnings: soft yandere content, necrophilia mention, violence mention, poison mention, pregnancy mention, fem!reader.

A Vivaldi song played from the record player, the melancholic tones of Valse Sentimentalle seeming to make your heart spin over and over inside your chest as you watched everything that was happening from your balcony. You could only glimpse the world this way.

The clouds raced across the dark sky like snow falling to the ground, visibly shaken by the cold wind that blew, as they were so fast that they quickly disappeared over the horizon. This was your little paradise after having spent so much time in hell; a lifetime of enduring your mother's insults regarding your "slovenly" appearance or your father's comments about your poor etiquette, about the role he expected of you, or how much your future husband wanted to have a dozen children, even though he was a terrible man with a terrible temper.

The truth was that all of this was unnecessarily useless. Today's society was useless. So many rules, so many political games going on. You couldn't understand the need for it all and you didn't need it anymore. Not when you were now a bird trapped in an unknown cage.

A beautiful cage. The bed was built against a thick brick wall painted black, curtains falling down the wooden posts flowing across the floor, beside it, a single flame glowed on the almost extinguished candlestick, its flames trying to communicate with you and failing, as you preferred to isolate yourself and observe the world outside the bars that trapped you inside, the snow so free and beautifully overwhelming.

Running away made no sense. But the feeling and need for freedom was something that kept beating in your chest millions of times, that screamed in your mind for you to act. And you were too much of a coward for that; or rather, where would you go if no one would welcome you? If no one was good?

Better a known evil than an evil that is little known.

Hands snaked over your shoulders, a mere caress that once soothed you, and, soon after, the voice of that being who had bathed in blood and guts to supposedly save you from a mediocre existence.

"You should be near the fire," there was apprehension in his tone, but a hint of something else. It wasn't desire, but it was like it, a yearning for control and care, and a range far more infinite than you could only guess.

He leaned over you, black hair falling down your neck. "Well, it doesn't matter, if you get sick, I'll take good care of you."

You shivered. There were so many meanings to those words. Was it a promise? Or a threat? Based on your past experiences, it was definitely a veiled threat that made your head spin and your stomach tighten with an almost instinctive fear - this fear was already well-known to you. It was a friend.

"Sorry." Was all you said as you let him guide you, like a doll, to your seat and place your favorite hot drink in your hand.

It was strange, you thought. The liquid moved as it swirled up the cup, the stark contrast of how warm it was compared to the cold outside. It was strange to have someone like that. It was strange that he never got angry, never yelled or tried to hit you. It was all strange.

Still, you drank.

It wasn't poison.

Your fiancé once threatened to poison you. And he said he would desecrate your body afterward again, and again and again, he would crush your bones till there was nothing more but dust.

Sebastian's hands took yours, red eyes staring into yours, searching for any ghosts from your past. A smile crept across his lips.

"Don't wander for what has been. Keep your head up for what is to come," he whispered, taking the cup from your hands and bringing it to your mouth. The ceramic cup touched your lips so gently that you could almost cry. "Enjoy, my love. Just enjoy it. I could never be like those insects."

Knowing this didn't change anything you had been through. But at least you knew he would never do anything hurtful and that he would listen to your apologies.

To him, you were a shiny, precious jewel, something to hide and love inside those necessary walls. You found that you didn't mind if you had to live like this; the routine was serene and not at all anxiety inducing. His love was gentle. His laugh like a serene promise.

You smiled for the first time since coming here. And you let him see it. You let him caress your face softly and kiss your cheeks, your breathing hitching when he ghosted your lips - you had never been kissed like that, and he was waiting for your permission to do it.

To let the past go, one must embrace the future, even if the future is scary. You closed your eyes and let it happen.

[mihii-i]

hollow.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, vampire au, girls kissing oh no, crackfic(?), wlw, graphic mentions of violence, beginning is very up to interpretation, blood, furina being so adorable im gonna cry, macaroni :3, I made it super short bc I lost motivation since its past the deadline 💔, kinda a plot twist at the end, not proofread.

A/N: FURINAAAAAA AWAWAAAWAWA oh yeah uhm sorry about this being late but part of @edgeray ‘s Halloween event! 🕯️

All surrounding you was nothing but an endless void caging in around you, enveloping your mind as you found yourself stumbling backward. Eyes heavy, your pupils rolled back upon feeling the thick showers of rain trickle down your freezing skin, floods of endless water streams washing over the vicinity in endless pattering. It was quite evident that this time of day, especially in such blinding conditions was unsafe for many. Especially humans such as yourself who wandered mindlessly in the wild, carelessly allowing the scent of your blood to waver wherever you traveled.

The last sight that caught your eye as you stumbled back was a quick glimpse of the blackened sky adorned with dark tufts of clouds, flashes of lightning ripping through the air in sudden bursts while you squinted your eyes at the sudden shred of light flooding your sight in the blinding darkness. Your soaked clothing stuck to your skin, sending shivers through your body as the cold cloth adhered against your exposed self. Each shower of rain descending down as the gray clouds parted only seemed like a warning sign from the gods themselves, casting down an inescapable storm that would leave you vulnerable for the inhuman nightmares roaming the area to tear to shreds.

You honestly didn’t even know why you were out. The shivers racking your body paired with the purple-ish tint faintly dusted along your skin from the stinging freeze was enough to encourage you to head home. Yet, something within you screamed at every fiber in your body. Every inch of you continued to trudge forward against the force of the winds pushing against you, knowing you can’t head back home. You couldn’t head back, or you would be dead. Not even given the courtesy of being buried or having your body kept intact. Rather, you’d be reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, beaten down ruthlessly until blood painted the ground you lay on.

The mere thought of your body not being able to rest after death—possibly worse—only made you hunch inward at the disgusting fate, face dropping in pure terror. Howls of wind continued to rustle against your ears repeatedly as you bit down on your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to try and warm up the blue tinged flesh dragged between your teeth. You hissed in a sharp breath of pain as the see though nature of your clean white shirt only exposed the splatter of blood soaking through the white cloth of your shoulder and trickling down your arm. How much longer could you handle? How much longer could you endure the bites of cold air poisoning you from the inside out as you only grew more and more exhausted from the sting.

The answer was not long. A sudden gasp escaped your lips as your knees buckled inward, causing you to release your lower lip from your teeth as a shock response to the numbness seeping through your body slowly. You sucked in a breath as you knelt down, brows knitting together in pain as your free hand served to shield the damp blood seeping through the deep wound in your shoulder. Heavy breathing rang in your ears, albeit quite loudly considering it was your own breathing emanating from your hoarse throat as your surroundings grew blurry—the stench of your fresh blood which was evidently piling up in the clearing as it stung your sensitive nostrils only serving to make you more lightheaded.

Quick rushes of a shadowy figure filled the frame of your vision, its movements being quiet and discreet as the rushes of rain only served to cloak any possible sound it could potentially produce. Its dashes back and forth only displayed in afterimages for under a millisecond as its speed only served to blind you further, making you question your sanity and whether you were hallucinating this figure. You couldn’t think long, your eyelids began to droop as you grew light from the cold engulfing you, along with the loss of blood growing exponentially and spinning your surroundings like a globe.

Thud.

Of course. It wasn’t long before your body rocked forward, slamming against the ground as blood pooled below you and patched the once spotless cloth of your shirt stuck to your skin a deep crimson. The grass below you steeled red as the tip of each green blade had a thick red gradient brushed along it. You guess that this was perhaps the end of your story. Succumbing to the cold and your wounds was the fate life had in store for you. And just like that—you relaxed yourself against the grass, rainwater thudding against the back of your limp frame sprawled out against the ground.

…

That was until your eyes shot open.

Blinking open your eyes, you found yourself weighed down by a thick blanket spread out over you, sinking you down into the mattress until your chest. The dim, golden light briefly provided a faint light to the vicinity you had awoken in, your bleary vision beginning to focus little by little as you scanned the room. A sudden surge of pain shot through your shoulder as you finally regained most of your consciousness, stinging further at sunken wound gashed onto your arm. Eyes wide, you ripped off the blanket cloaking your arm, your expression growing perplexed at the sight of your burning shoulder carefully wrapped in slightly crumpled bandages.

You breathed out a huff upon feeling a strange itch located above your collarbone, being unable to recall whether you had an injury there or not while you were in the rain. Gentle flickers of warm air rejuvenated your freezing muscles, easing the tension piled up within you. The candle flickering beside you somehow provided a flaring amount of heat for you to be able to move around normally without the hypothermic chill dragging down your body.

Two small indents were imprinted onto your throat, harboring that same itch which was bothering you from the moment you woke up. You swore those deep, tiny holes weren’t there before, raising your suspicion—and distress to a higher degree. You couldn’t help but also wonder the source of the marks on your neck, with the deep nature, along with the way both holes were a convenient distance from each other…it unmistakably resembled a bite. A bite resulting from a pair of fangs maliciously sunken into flesh, desperate for a taste.

Yet despite your conclusion, you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the creature that could’ve attacked you before you were nursed back to health in wherever the hell you were now. Scanning the room, you swallowed back your uncertainty, carefully peeling off the blankets draped over you before hovering your feet over the creaky wooden floors. You set one foot down very slowly, flinching a bit upon hearing the hollow creak of the floorboards ring throughout the vicinity.

Each ghastly ring of the floorboards pressured under your heels with every subsequent step against the floor shrouded your thoughts in a lake of uncertainty, the current sensation of utter trepidation clouding your mind as you wandered aimlessly through the perplexing twists of the hallway. Drops of wax pooled beneath the abundant candles in a small heap, dribbling down the edges they resided upon occasionally along the deep stone of the walls.

Swift afterimages of a cloaked figure mysteriously flicked back and forth in the field of your periphery, your hand instantly darting up to shield your palm along your exposed 'wound.' Swallowing back a heavy lump sunken in your throat, paranoia flooded your senses at the sight of the dark figure which had just swiftly vanished, your gaze flickering to every spotting and corner of the peculiar residence.

"Ah..you're out of bed? I thought your injuries were too awful to even move. Sorry about that, ma’am.”

The sudden feminine voice alerted you in mere moments, heart nearly jumping out of your chest from the wave of shock that overtook every fiber of your body in that instant. You spun around, being met with the perplexed expression of an alluring woman stood before you. Fluffed white hair brushed with blue streaks striped along her hair, complimenting her mismatched azure eyes. Her arms remained folded over her chest firmly as her gaze roamed over you from head to toe, lips pursed together upon it being unclear of whether you were truly well or not. The woman parted her lips to speak, before immediately curling her lip between her teeth to bite back her voice.

Drips of stray water leaked from the crevices of the ceiling, lining along the cobwebs as they dribbled down onto the floor to briefly remedy the silence. The dampening atmosphere surrounding you and the exotic being stood before you tensed your muscles, a smoke of uncertainty circling the two of you as a sort of supernatural force seemed to radiate around her, uneasiness wavering within you in the deafening silence.

“This..is awkward? Where’s the ‘thank you for saving my life?’ I just stopped you from dying and getting potentially mauled out there!” She exclaimed as a breaker, your head shooting up and growing alert to the conversation she had attempted to initiate. “Ah…right. Thank you.” You murmured awkwardly, palm still cupped over the marks slit into your throat. She delivered an over dramatic bow in return, a smug expression scribbled onto her face as she bared her fangs in a grin.

Wait…fangs?

Pausing briefly, you hovered a finger upward, slowly pointing toward her teeth. Indicating the curved ridges protruding from the corners of her teeth, you slithered your tongue to the roof of your mouth cautiously, slowly lowering your hand shielding the bite mark to observe your neck.

It almost identically mirrored the sharpened ends of her fangs.

You drew in a breath, attempting to keep your quivering voice steady as you firmly articulated your concerns before her. “Were you the one who did this..?” You inquired carefully, exposing your neck and allowing the faint lighting to add a reflective luminance against the dried out hollow wounds. She paused, grin immediately shifting to a rather hushed expression as her breath caught in her throat upon the revelation of her feeding on you. Almost in an instant, she defensively snapped back in an argumentative manner.

“Hey! Be glad it wasn’t that it wasn’t some other vampire that found you all sprawled out! I was just thirsty but I treated it after! Anyone else would’ve put you in a stove by now!”

“I’m not upset, calm down…I just wanted to know.” You responded, slightly being put at ease by her anecdote of nursing you back to health in critical condition. It was understandable as to why she’d feed on you, as you had noted behaviors of vampires from what others had told you. Typically, they’re unable to resist the minute they see even a hint of scarlet running along a human’s skin, the most frequent outcome being someone’s mangled body being discovered eventually.

However, this particular vampire didn’t seem to show any of the insatiable hunger emitted off others, and not too interested in hogging all of your blood to herself, merely a sip to quench her thirst. You stood upright and gently grazed your finger along her knuckles, freehand cupped below her wrist to gently push it up.

“You’re being genuine in the fact that you saved me?” You questioned, eyes fixated on her teardrop shaped pupils for any trace of deception. Yet they harbored none. She nodded bashfully, a faint pout contorting her features as well.

“Why would I even go as far as making macaroni for you if I didn’t..?”

“You made macaroni for me?”

“…it was literally on your bedside table are you BLIND?”

Her outburst caught you off guard, yet you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you upon seeing her swiftly whip her gaze away in a faux frustrated fashion. You smiled, taking her hand in yours and causing her to part her lips in surprise.

“Fine..just, come up with me, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly at first, but began to trail directly behind you as you renavigated your path to the room you were in. Raising your eyebrows as you turned around to face her, your hand rested on the doorknob, refraining from clicking open the door in that moment as you spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me, Furina.”

A ghastly quietness buzzed around the two of you, stunning ‘Furina’ into shock, eyes wide as her gaze remained locked onto you. She paused, confusion currently occupying her mind as it made her head fuzzy from the thickness of perplexion overtaking her. Swallowing nervously, she sharpened her tone towards you, eyelids lowering cautiously.

“How do you know my name..? I’ve never told you.”

A/N: im very sorry that I’ve been ending fics on cliffhangers/lazy writing like this bc I really need to focus on school and I’m trying to get these done in a time crunch along with the assignments in the window of time that I actually have to work on them so I’m sorry but I promise when I have free time I will definitely not slack on my fics like I did this one cause I just threw in a shock factor plot twist ending 💔

anyway did u know that I name all fics in my drafts something very interesting before actually coming up with a title just like sprites in game files so this one was named ‘I’m gonna cover myself in garlic everywhere except my kitty’ and holy shit why did I name it that.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 2k - he who is the most patient also yearns the most

zhongli met you for the first time when you came to the harbor on a extensive, work-related trip. some sort of negotiation at the port with certain shipment partners and possible trade opportunities. you had come from port ormos in sumeru, so he imagined you would get moving onto inazuma for the same thing before long. as luck would have it, you never made it that far before the nation of electro closed its borders. so, at that point, you were now essentially stuck in land of geo for the foreseeable future.

he had run into you when you were appraising some goods that had come in with a group of merchants ; those specific good were on your list to inspect to see if they would offer anything worth decent mora. perhaps it was fate that when he had passed behind your back, he heard you murmuring something about not knowing enough about a certain vase's story painted it on with aged, chipped paint. zhongli was the walking know-it-all of liyue, so of course without prompting, he flit over to your side and explained what you were looking at for you (after scaring you since you didn't hear him walk up beside you and instead of a proper 'hello' he just jumped straight into the explanation).

from then, he would often see you at the docks. clipboard in hand or a ledger of some sort that you would be reviewing. on the rare occasion, he would just see you strolling around with nothing on your hands so he took it upon himself to occupy the free time you seemed to use by relishing in the sea breeze.

you had been in liyue for over a year when zhongli's heart dropped deep into his stomach. his very core filled with dread as you inform him that since inazuma had finally lifted their restrictions, your work would soon resume as usual. you would soon be relocated to the far-off islands of electro. the tea he had been delightfully sharing with you previously now tasted too bitter on his tongue to continue drinking at the news.

"will you ever return?" his voice was quiet, not nearly as confident and proud as he usually was. it resembled a child asking if their best friend who was due to move away would ever visit them again.

the relationship you grew into with zhongli was special to both of you. he treated you so well and educated you in things you were clueless about. you confided in him and when liyue was at risk of drowning, you were the one who he ran to first when all was settled. you still remember that night so vividly.

you were at the harbor- as usual- but instead of working, you were helping pull stranded milieth out of the sea or helping people getting further inland as the waves violently warned you of doom. when the ocean calmed and the storm clouds that plagued the sky dissipated, you felt a weight off your chest. as you checked around to make sure people were alright, you were quickly snatched away by your wrist. being dragged off to a more secluded corner of the harbor docks behind a stack of, now storm weathered, crates.

zhongli had never understood the phrase 'word vomiting', but what he told you behind those damaged and rain-soaked crates was most definitely so. his gnosis had just been traded, no longer in his possession, and he could finally, finally tell you everything. it definitely wasn't how it was supposed to happen. his whole identity spilled in the span of a several ramble while shakily holding onto your wrists like you'd float off to sea if he didn't anchor you down next to him.

"of course i'll come back." you reassure him. his hand releases it's soft grip around his teacup and lays the back of it on the table like it had given up on keep any sort of grip on anything. you understand his silent offer and place your palm on top of his. "i promise. as soon as my work in inazuma is finished and i get everything completed in sumeru, i'll come and visit you as often as i can."

feeling your pulse on the junction under the heel of your hand, he knew you were being truthful. of course, you hadn't lied to him before so he would believe anything you said regardless of the circumstances; though perhaps that was his own personal bias in a way. you could tell him you were the reason the sun rose every morning and he'd believe you- you shone so brightly in his eyes, so naturally that must be why.

you chuckle from across the table and he looks at your quizzically. you tap your fingers rhythmically across his wrist that's covered in brown fabric. your opposite arm comes to rest its elbow on the table and your palm supports your cheek.

"what me to make a contract just so you feel better?" zhongli blinks before he's craking a smile back towards yours.

"you jest too much."

"do i?"

"it's endearing."

your 'contract' is just sealed as an earnest promise he'd keep in his chest until you come back to him. on the day of your parting, zhongli kisses the back of your hand, your knuckles, and your cheek.

"for safe travels, swift work, and my sincerities," he had justified. you returned his affection with a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"for no reason other than i want to." zhongli kisses your lips for the very same reason before you board your ship that takes you far, far away from him. he doesn't account the time he spent watching your ship sail further away with his hands behind his folded ever so neatly back until it was completely out of sight. he stares at the horizon and almost wishes that it would bring you back.

it doesn't.

it doesn't.

so, zhongli waits.

the lord of geo has been alive for millennia, so the passage of time was something inane to him now. a few years is attuned to that of a blink in the grand scheme of his long, long lifetime. however, those years he spent without you at his side or in his shadow felt like centuries.

mortals squander their time, fleeting at it is, and they know they will never live forever. they will fill it with new things every day because it could be their last- they would never know when their time would come.

"it's been a long year" or month or day; all those phrases zhongli hears and agrees to in mundane conversations- but mostly just so he can identify and align with the masses as an unquestionable human. he never understood those phrases. yesterday was as long as today and will be as long as tomorrow and so forth.

the years you spent gone with only letters sent back and forth between the both of you made him feel closer to morality than anything else before. the days did feel longer. the years felt dragging. the months felt stretched. it felt like time was slowing down, dawdling and twiddling its thumbs while he was stuck suffering in its demanding sluggish waves.

it made him feel human. the terrible impatience for something or someone to come back home. the agony of the wait and the suspense on if it would happen at all. and while he wishes to feel closer to mortal life and connect to his people in such ways- this way- this game of time just made him irritated.

zhongli didn't remember the last time he had felt impatience so thick, but it began gnawing at his insides with the last letter he had received.

'my work has finally concluded, so i'll be coming back to liyue as soon as i send this letter out to you!'

those were your final remarks penned by your hand before it made it into his. when did you send this? a week ago? two? he didn't know. you neglected to date it. every day he goes to the harbor, checking morning, noon and evening to see what ships have sailed in and if you'd be on one. or perhaps you would be coming from sumeru by means of the west by the chasm, coming on foot and would simply waltz into the city.

zhongli didn't know and each day felt longer and longer.

it turns out, the horizon did bring you back to him. it just took it's sweet time in doing so.

out on the harbor once again, a ship was docking, and he saw you before you saw him. the back of your head moving as you help people unload their cargo and help them off the ship before you dismount yourself. it had been years since he had seen you, but he would never forget what you looked like. the features that wouldn't change.

walking- gaiting- down to the harbor's lowest levels was the giddiest he had probably felt in his whole life. antsy. his chest was a mess, it felt like farmers were tilling into his insides. as he stood off to the side of the dock, mindful not to block anyone's path into the harbor. his foot tapping, and hands opening and closing in repetition just for something to do with all his antsy jitters.

you must've spotted him when he was lost in his own mind since it was his name coming from the voice he memorized years ago that turned his head. you were leaning over a stack of crates that you were previously helping unload, waving so enthusiastically he was afraid you'd swing your arm into someone's head.

zhongli is someone who is very aware of affection in public areas with lots of eyes darting around. he was reserved in a way that he feels his affections were best left to the privacy of him and his choice partner. this day was an exception since the moment you were within his reach, you were crashing into his chest, and he was holding you prisoner there.

he could feel your pulse under his hand that held behind your neck to keep your head pushed against his chest. your warmth from the sun that had bathed you the morning voyage back to him. the smell of the sea breeze against your clothes and skin.

it was evident that you had changed over the years- an evitable happen stance he expected. you were only human after all. but you were still the same as he remembered. you were comfortable and warm and safe and here.

when zhongli finally returned some freedom to your range, which wasn't very far since his hands still settled comfortably on your hips, he mapped out exactly how you changed in comparison to his memories with his roaming gaze.

"how long will you be staying?" he asks.

"how long can liyue put up with me?" you answer and you feel his chest rumble in a chuckle under your palms that rest there. "i'm not sure yet. i plan on staying at wangshuu inn for the time though."

"nonsense." zhongli shakes his head and one of his hands leave your hip to brush the back of his knuckle against your cheek down to the corner of your mouth. "my home has more than enough space to accommodate your presence."

"i was going to ask," you pout and feel your face get hotter, but it wasn't because of the sun, "but i didn't want to feel like i was imposing."

"please do. you're more than welcome to 'impose' on me anytime you wish." you give in quickly much to his delight. you hoist your bags up, which he promptly takes from you without so much as breaking a sweat, and offers you his other arm. "we have much to catch up on."

when hu tao hears that you had come back to liyue, she suddenly isn't so upset that zhongli never returned to work that day.

[livwritessometimes]

A Footnote Will Do...(For Me)

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: So I'll just take a footnote in your life

: Part 2

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note: I had no plans of writing this but I got this sudden urge to write some angst.....so Tada!

…

You ate at a restaurant, the host said we're cute They think we're a couple, they bought us some booze We shared the Moscato and laughed 'cause it's true To me (to me)

The air was filled with the rich aroma of spices coming from all sorts of Italian cuisines. There was a different kind of calm in the atmosphere, which was quite contrary to what the next few days had in store. It was finally time for the Italian Grand Prix, Ferrari's home race, and a very special day for the Monegasque walking besides Y/n.

Charles Leclerc, the golden boy for Ferrari, the pride and joy of Monaco, but to her, he was simply the boy she met through his younger brother. The boy Y/n was madly in love with.

People say that love comes into your life when you least expect it to. It comes in various shapes and forms: a hug from your mother when you see her after a long time; catching up with your best friend after a stressful day at work; seeing your father gloat about you to his friends. But no one told Y/n that for her, love would enter her life in a blazing red suit and a super-fast car. 

Walking down a relatively empty street in Italy, Y/n felt content. Next to her was the boy of her dreams, going on and on about how an old lady earlier today had told him he reminded her of her son and gave him a free muffin. Chuckling at the Monegasque's excitement over a baked good, Y/n took a moment to take in the young boy's appearance. He was wearing a loose-fitting shirt, some pants and a pair of sunglasses tucked in front of his shirt, nothing extraordinary, but it felt right. He offered Y/n his hand, signaling her that they had finally reached their destination.

A beautiful restaurant hidden in the streets of Italy. Covered in greenery, the place looked like it came straight out of a painting. At the entrance, an older woman with kind eyes greeted them, smiling at the pair. She offered them one of the tables that were laid out in front of the restaurant. It was almost as if the lady knew what Y/n would have liked, as she had given them a table right next to the window. It was the perfect spot to get a glimpse of the inside of the restaurant while enjoying the serene view that surrounded them.

Thanking her, Y/n and Charles gave her their order. As soon as she was out of their site, the boy in front of her began to tell another story of how he got locked in the bathroom during one of Ferrari's meetings and how it took the entire team 2 hours to get the poor boy out. It seemed like Charles had a way of finding himself in all sorts of weird and bizarre situations. It reminds her of the first time they met. 

It was Arthur's birthday, and Y/n was on her way to his party when she saw a man standing on the side of the road, asking for a ride. Y/n could see the dark clouds slowly engulfing the once clear patch of sky and decided to take pity on the man. Stopping right next to him, she got to know that the strange man was none other than the birthday boy's older brother. It seemed like fate to her; what were the odds of something like this happening? Offering him a ride, both of them began the journey back to Arthur's (and Charles') house. Y/n has had first-hand experience with these bizarre situations, because not even 10 minutes after they began their journey, it started pouring down heavily, blocking any sort of visibility there was, causing them to stop the car. So Y/n and Charles spent the next, god knows how many hours, of Arthur's birthday sitting in the car chatting away. It was also the first time Y/n felt seen, truly seen.

Focusing back on Charles' story, she noticed the lady from earlier approaching them with a bottle of wine. "For the lovely couple," she said as she poured a glass each for Charles and her. "You both look cute together; I hope you stay happy for a long time," and with that, she went back inside the restaurant. Bringing up his glass to her, Charles whispered, "Cheers to the couple, I guess." Letting out a laugh, the pair shared the bottle of wine and continued their conversation. What Charles didn't realize was how fast Y/n's heart was beating after the woman's comment, because for her, it was the truth.

You said at the party that I was too drunk I told you I liked you, you said, "Sober up" But why would I lie? It's so clear I'm in love With you

The bright lights were almost blinding, and the entire club was filled with red. Everywhere you'd look, you'll see a member of the Ferrari team celebrate their hearts out. Charles had won the Italian Grand Prix; finally, all the doubts and worries that flooded the Monegasque's mind were put to ease. He won his home race in Monaco and has now won Ferrari's home race. Y/n and Charles were here to celebrate, and celebrating is exactly what they did. Bottles after bottles, everyone was drunk beyond their minds, Y/n especially. It was as if she could not contain the joy that filled her mind seeing Charles stand at the top of the podium. After a long night of partying, the club was slowly dying down. Most of the team members had booked a cab and left the venue; some were passed out on the couch with a content expression on their faces, and the rest were still on the dance floor. 

That is where Charles found Y/n. Upon seeing the boy, Y/n pulled him closer to her, and the boy instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her movements. "I think you've celebrated more than me at this point," said Charles while looking down at Y/n with a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, of course, someone has to, Grand Prix Winner," Y/n said, smiling up and looking back at Charles. "Let's get you some water. It'll help you stay hydrated," he said as he began walking towards one of the sofas with his arms still around Y/n. "I think you've had one too many drinks-" Cutting him off, Y/n blurted out, "I like you." Slowly looking up to see Charles' face to see any sort of reaction from him, he said, "I think you should sober up now," and without saying another word, he began to walk towards the exit with a very drunk Y/n, who was now very aware of everything happening around her.

She was completely in her senses when Charles helped her get in the passenger seat or when he leaned over from across the driver's seat to help her with the seatbelt. The boy was so close to her that even after hours of partying, she could still catch the faint scent of his perfume. For the entire trip, Charles refused to look her in the eye, not when he helped her out of the car, or when he took off her heels, or even when he tucked her in the bed. Just as he was about to leave, Y/n reached out and grabbed a hold of his wrist. "Would you stay with me till I fall asleep?" She could see the hesitation in his eyes. "Please," she said, looking up at his face, and for the first time since her abrupt confession, he looked back at her to meet her eyes. Nodding slightly, Charles sat down at the foot of the bed, and true to his words, he stayed there till Y/n dozed off.

A tense conversation, you like someone else I say, "If I waited, could that maybe help?" You told me that patience won't change how you felt For me

If Y/n thought last night was worse, then she was in for a huge surprise. The morning after was one of the worst mornings for Y/n. She woke up with a splitting headache, dazed and disoriented from last nights events, until it all came rushing back to her. Her drunken confession, Charles' behavioral change towards her. Getting out of the bed she walked towards the kitchen where she saw Charles nursing a cup of coffee in his hand looking at something on his phone. Upon hearing movement, he looked up from his phone, putting it aside he kept another cup of coffee in front of her saying "I made some for you as well, I know you'll be needing it." He smiled at her before continuing, "How's the headache?" He questioned. "I've had better days," Y/n said before taking the cup of coffee and thanking the Monegasque.

"So about last night…" Charles started, and there it was, the dreadful moment Y/n was hoping to avoid. "…I had no idea you felt that way," Charles said before looking at her. "Y/n, I'm actually seeing someone…for a while now," and with those 9 words, Charles had shattered Y/n's heart into pieces. Y/n could not believe it; they were perfect; everyone could see it. So why is it that the boy she was madly in love with could not see how good they both were together? "I'm really sorry, Y/nn, but I don't feel that way about you," Charles said with a genuine look behind his eyes. In a desperate effort to hold onto this idea Y/n had created about the both of them, she said, "If I waited, would that help? Would that change things?" The hole in her heart grew bigger and bigger with each passing second that Charles didn't answer. Letting out a sigh, he said. "Y/n, even if you waited, it's not gonna change how I feel about you. I'm sorry, but I've always seen you as a great friend," Charles said, and with that gone was the future of them together; empty was the house they were supposed to move into after a few years of dating; dead was the flower garden they both would have spent hours trying to maintain; forgotten were the children they would have eventually had; lost was the life they would have shared.

So I'll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship You taught me a lesson, that feelings are reckless It's just like the novels, side characters end up alone

It is observed that friendships that start because someone expresses a romantic interest tend to take on a different meaning once the feelings involved in the situation are gone. Empty, distant, and disregarded, that is what Y/n felt. Ever since Charles told her that he did not reciprocate her feelings, something inside Y/n died. Gone was the girl who always paid attention to Charles, who, even in a room full of people, always had one eye on him. Gone was the girl who tried to impress the boy she was in love with. Instead, she started to loathe the fragments that were left of their friendship. They no longer met up. No longer did they have their phone calls that lasted for hours on end. 

True to his words, Charles was in fact seeing someone; someone he officially announced his relationship with 2 weeks after their fallout, or at least that is what Y/n likes to call that morning in Italy. Charles taught Y/n what love actually was and how beautiful the feeling can be. Charles is also the person who taught her how reckless feelings can actually be. It's messy and complicated. It's the girl not getting the guy; it's the golden boy meeting his girl next door. It's just like the novels, where the side character always ends up alone, forgotten somewhere in the background of the main character's story.

So I'll just take a footnote in your life And you could take my body Every line I would write for you But a footnote will do A footnote will do

Standing at the Ferrari garage, Y/n could feel everyone's excitement. Charles had won yet another Grand Prix. Everyone rushed out of the garage, heading towards the barrier to celebrate with him, Y/n could see Charles getting out of his car and running to where she was standing. He was just a few metres away from them when he opened his arms and started running towards them. Y/n almost thought he was coming over to hug her, but just as she was about to let her imagination get the best of her, reality came crashing down on her again. Charles leaped into the arms of his girlfriend, the same girl next door she lost him to. The girl who has a polite smile and a kind heart. The girl who he now shares a puppy with. It reminded Y/n of her place in his life; no longer was she a priority for him. She was merely a footnote in his life now; gone was the time where she would have been a chapter or few in his books, but for her, he had been the entire story; the start, the middle, and the end. 

Every line she wrote, she wrote for him, but now all she can afford is a footnote in his life. 

But a footnote will do. A footnote will do for her.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello :) I've recently found your blog and read everything AT LEAST thrice. I adore your writing <3 May I request a one-short, Azriel and Reader being Wayyy too into PDA, like pausing training to cuddle standing up while everyone else is training in front of them, and Azriel is kissing up her neck n all.

Reader sitting in his lap during dinner with the inner circle while they feed each other, giggling, whispering sweet nothings, stealing kisses with each other in front of everyone and Azriel has a wing around her to keep her warm.

Like they just have to be touching each other all the time.

Also, Cass is fake-gagging at them while he is training others. And Rhys is traumatized cause they didn't put their mental shield up, and he can hear all the *dirty* thoughts they are having for each other. Those thoughts are loud as hell and he is basically like, "Really? In front of my dinner?" While side-eyeing them through dinner. That was a long one heh. Fingers crossed I sparked an idea for you and it wasn't just me rambling

Honeymoon phase.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Warnings; suggestive

Masterlist

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you had in mind! Please let me know if you want me to rewrite it.

“Lift your elbow” Azriel ordered and ducked when you threw a punch.

You were on the roof of the house of wind training with your mate while Cassian was training the Valkyries on the other side.

“That’s it! Very well” he praised you.

You smiled proudly and he engulfed you in his arms. You pressed your cheek on his chest and rubbed his back as he held you. Your mate sighed and leaned down and started kissing your neck making you leave a small moan.

“Oh come on we are training” Cassian exclaimed and made a gagging noise.

“Sorry Cassie” you shouted and pushed your mate away but quickly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him for a last sloppy kiss.

You and Azriel met 70 years ago so the mating bond wasn’t new, but you never left the honeymoon phase. You couldn’t stay away from each other, if you could become one you probably would.

You finished training and left hand in hand making Cassian snort. After bathing together, you enjoyed your lunch and went to the river house, Azriel had to brief Rhysand on some mission, and you wanted to hang out with Feyre and Mor.

“Have fun” he told you and captured your lips with his own before climbing up the stairs that led to Rhysand’s office.

“I can’t get used to this side of him” Mor spoke from behind you.

“He is the sweetest” you smiled and took a seat on the big couch.

“He is desperately in love” Feyre said and giggled.

“Girl, trust me when I say that this man looked like he was going to murder everyone all the time. I don’t think that I ever saw him smile before he met y/n.” Mor exclaimed.

You tried to hide your grin but failed miserably making Feyre and Mor burst into laughter.

“And let’s not get started on the PDA” Mor shook her head.

“Enough! Let’s talk about something else.” You whined and the girls began teasing you even more.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feyre was talking about her new painting when a pair of hands covered your eyes, the spicy yet sweet scent of your mate clouded your senses and you shuddered.

“Hey love” you giggled, and he removed his hands.

“Hey” he grinned and leaned down to kiss you.

“Who are you and what did you do to Azriel?” Mor shouted and Azriel gave her a vulgar gesture.

“See? He wouldn’t even acknowledge me before” she threw her hands in the air.

You shook your head and got up. “See you at dinner”.

Your mate placed his hand on your waist and guided you outside.

You spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed enjoying each other’s company. Days like this were rare, most of the time Azriel was away because of his missions and you helped Madja at her infirmary, so when you had free time you made sure to spend every second together.

“We have to get ready for dinner” you whispered and tried to push him off you.

“We still have a few minutes” he mumbled and kissed your naked chest before going further down.

“We will be late” you hummed.

“Let me just have a taste” he whined.

“I will let you do anything you want when we come back” you cupped his jaw and pulled him up giving him a soft kiss.

“Anything?” he quirked a brow.

“Anything” you nodded, and he jumped out of bed.

“Let’s go” he said and opened the closet to find an outfit for dinner making you laugh and shake your head.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You walked in the dining room and Cassian’s eyes flashed with mischief.

“What?” you asked, and he sat on your usual seat next to Azriel’s ,leaving his own on the other side of the table free.

Azriel rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, leading you to his seat and pulling you on his lap and draping a protective wing around you.

“Oh no” Cassian mumbled and got up. Azriel’s shadows grabbed the empty chair and removed it from the room.

“I guess you have to sit next to us” your mate smiled at the warlord who paled.

Everyone looked at Cassian and burst into laughter knowing that soon enough you two would start touching each other and he would have to eat with the scent of your arousal.

Azriel was lost deep in his conversation with Rhys and you feared that his food would get cold so you grabbed his fork and stabbed a piece of steak.

“Here baby” you said and brought it to his lips.

“Thank you” he smiled and gave you a quick kiss before eating.

You watched his full lips and the way his jaw flexed as he chewed and almost moaned. Azriel noticed and smirked before moving his hand to rest it on your thigh and rub small circles. You kept feeding him and kissing him between bites. Every time you stared at his face while he ate his hand moved higher making you squirm on his lap and ground on his bulge. He quickly covered the moan that escaped with a cough and Cassian almost spat his wine.

Your arousal was evident and as both of you stripped each other with your eyes Rhysand gagged.

“Are you serious? Here?” he groaned and grabbed his head.

You stared at him wide-eyed and Azriel chuckled.

“I’m so happy for your creative sex life but please stop thinking about it on my dinner table” he whined, and Feyre caressed his arm.

You stopped grinding your hips and focused on your food before Azriel leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“So anything huh?”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped to you and Cassian tensed.

“Yes my love” you whispered back and kissed his neck making Rhys scoff.

Azriel kissed your shoulder and pushed you off him before getting up too.

“Well next time don’t get offended if we don’t join you for dinner.” He said and slapped your ass as you hurried to your room.

“If you don’t want to hear them having sex I think we should move to the river house” Cassian mumbled and everyone jumped on their feet.

[c1qfxugcgy0]

adventures in QA

(previous post in this series)

My shop in Advanced Midbody - Carbon Wing (AMCW) at Large Aircraft Manufacturer (LAM) is at the very end of the composite fabrication building. Hundreds of people carefully lay up a hundred foot long slab of carbon fiber, cure it, paint it, and then we totally fuck it up with out of spec holes, scrapes, primer damage, etc. The people who write up our many defects are from the Quality Assurance (QA) department.

Every single screw and rivet on a LAM aircraft can be traced back to the mechanic who installed it. Back when even everything was done in pen and pencil, it was joked that the paper used to produce an aircraft outweighed the plane itself. Now that everything is computer-based, of course, the amount of paperwork is free to grow without limit.

(Haunting the factory is endless media coverage of an emergency exit door plug popping out of an Advanced Smallbody - Upengine (ASU) plane during a routine flight a few months ago. Unlike that airframe's notorious problems with MCAS, this was a straightforward paperwork screwup by a line worker: the bolts were supposed to be tightened, and they weren't.

As a result the higher ups have visited hideous tribulations on non-salaried workers. Endless webinars, structured trainings. Here at the Widebody plant we have received a steady flow of refugees from the Narrowbody factory, hair-raising tales of receiving one hundred percent supervision from the moment they clock in to the second they clock out from FAA inspectors who can recommend actual jail time for any lapse in judgement.)

A single hydraulic bracket Installation Plan (IP) is around four brackets. The team leads generally assign two bracket IPs per mechanic, since each bracket set is something like a foot apart, and while working on the plane is bad enough it's much worse to have another mechanic in your lap.

Let me list the order of operations:

One: Find where you're supposed to install these brackets. This is harder than you might think.

Firstly, it's a hundred foot long plank of carbon fiber composite, with longitudinal stringers bonded to it to add stiffness. The stringers are pilot drilled in the trim and drill center, a truly Brobdingnagian CNC mill that trims off the composite flash at the edges and locates and drills part holes for us. But there's a lot of holes, so you must carefully find your set.

A minor difficulty is that the engineering drawings are laid out with the leading edge pointing up, while the wing panels in our cells hang from the trailing edge. Not so bad, you just rotate the paper 180 when orienteering, then rotate it back up to read the printed labels.

A major difficulty is that the drawings are from the perspective from the outside of the panel. But we work on the inside of the wing (obviously, that's where all the parts are installed) so we also flip the drawings and squint through the back of the paper, to make things line up.

Large Aircraft Manufacturer has a market cap of US$110 billion, and we're walking around the wing jig with sheets of paper rotated 180 and flipped turnways trying to find where to put brackets.

Oh well, we're paid by the hour.

Two: Match drill the aluminum brackets to the carbon fiber composite stringer. I can devote an entire post to the subtleties of drilling carbon fiber, but I can already tell that this post is going to be a miserable slog, so I will merrily skip over this step.

Three: Vacuum up all the carbon dust and aluminum swarf created during this process. This step is not optional, as your team lead will remind you, his screaming mouth clouding your safety glasses with spittle at a distance of four inches. LAM is very serious about FOD. Every jet airliner you've ever ridden in is a wet wing design-- each interstitial space is filled with Jet A. There is no fuel bladder or liner-- the fuel washes right over plane structure and wing hardware. Any dirt we leave behind will merrily float into the fuel and be sucked right into the engines, where it can cause millions in damage. No place for metal shavings!

If you are nervous about flying, avoid considering that all the hydraulic lines and engine control cables dip into a lake of a kerosene on their way from the flight deck to the important machines they command. Especially do not consider that we're paid about as much per hour as a McDonalds fry cook to install flight-critical aviation components.

Four: Neatly lay out your brackets on your cart, fight for a position at a Shared Production Workstation (SPW) (of which we have a total of four (4) for a crew of thirty (30) mechanics) and mark your IP for QA inspection as Ready To Apply Seal.

Four: Twiddle your thumbs. Similarly, we have three QA people for thirty mechanics. This is not enough QA people, as I will make enormously clear in the following steps.

Five: Continue waiting. Remember, you must not do anything until a QA person shows up and checks the box. Skipping a QA step is a “process failure” and a disciplinary offense. From the outside, you can observe the numerous QA whistleblowers and say “golly, why would a mechanic ever cut a corner and ignore QA?” Well...

Six: QA shows up. Theoretically, they could choose to pick up the mahrmax you prepared for them and gauge every single hole you've drilled. But since we're three hours into the shift and they're already twenty jobs behind, they just flick their flashlight across the panel and say “looks good" and then sprint away. Can't imagine why our planes keep falling out of the sky.

Seven: Apply the seal to the bracket. P/S 890 is a thick dark gray goop that adheres well to aluminum, carbon fiber, fabric, hair and skin. Once cured, it is completely immune to any chemical attack short of piranha solution, so if you get any on yourself you had better notice quick, otherwise it'll be with you as long as the layer of epidermis it's bonded to. LAM employees who work with fuel tank sealant very quickly get out of the habit of running their hands through their hair.

Eight: Now you wait again. Ha ha, you dumb asshole, you thought you were done with QA? No no, now you put up the job for QA inspection of how well you put the seal on the bracket. Twiddle your thumbs, but now with some urgency. The minute you took the bottle of seal out of the freezer, you started the clock on its "squeeze-out life." For this type of seal, on this job, it's 120 minutes. If QA doesn't get to you before that time expires, you remove your ticket, wipe off the seal, take another bottle out the freezer, and apply a fresh layer.

Nine: Optimistically, QA shows up in time and signs off on the seal. Well, you're 100 minutes into your 120 minute timer. Quickly, you slap the brackets onto the stringer, air hammer the sleeve bolts into position, thread nuts onto the bolts, then torque them down. Shove through the crowd and mark your IP "ready to inspect squeeze out"

Ten: Let out a long breath and relax. All the time sensitive parts are over. The criteria here is "visible and continuous" squeeze out all along the perimeter of the bracket and the fasteners. It is hard to screw this up, just glop on a wild excess of seal before installing it. If you do fail squeezeout, though, the only remedy is to take everything off, throw away the single-use distorted thread locknuts, clean everything up and try again tomorrow.

Eleven: QA approved squeeze out? Break's over, now we're in a hurry again. By now there's probably only an hour or two left in the shift, and your job now is to clean off all that squeeze out. Here's where you curse your past self for glopping on too much seal. You want to get it off ASAP because if you leave it alone or if it's too late in the shift and your manager does feel like approving overtime it'll cure to a rock hard condition overnight and you'll go through hell chipping it off the next day. You'll go through a hundred or so qtips soaked in MPK cleaning up the bracket and every surface of the panel within three feet.

Twelve: Put it up for final inspection. Put away all your tools. (The large communal toolboxes are lined with kaizen foam precisely cut out to hold each individual tool, which makes it obvious if any tool is missing. When you take a tool out, you stick a tool chit with your name and LAMID printed on it in its place. Lose a tool? Stick your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye, pal, because the default assumption is that a lost screwdriver is lurking in a hollow "hat" stringer, waiting to float out and damage some critical component years after the airplane is delivered.)

One tool you'll leave on your cart, however, is the pin protrusion gage. There is a minimum amount of thread that must poke outside of the permanent straight shank fastener's (Hi-Lok) nut, to indicate that the nut is fully engaged. That makes sense. But there's also a maximum protrusion. Why?

Well, it's an airplane. Ounces make pounds. An extra quarter inch of stickout across a thousand fasteners across a 30 year service life means tons of additional fuel burnt. So you can't use a fastener that's too long, because it adds weight.

On aluminum parts, it's hard to mess up. But any given composite part is laid up from many layers of carbon fiber tape. The engineers seemed to have assumed that dimensional variation would be normally distributed. But, unfortunately, we buy miles of carbon fiber at a time, and the size only very gradually changes between lots. When entire batches are several microns oversize, and you're laying up parts from fifty plies and an inch thick, you can have considerable variation of thickness on any given structural component. So you had better hope you had test fit all of your fasteners ahead of time, or else you'll be real sorry!

And, if you're really lucky, QA will show up five minutes before end of shift, pronounce everything within tolerance, then fuck off.

And that's how it takes eight hours to install eight brackets.

[losver07]

GUYS WTF WE'RE AT 100 FOLLOWERS

JSJDJSJFKDNCKDKSKXKNC HELP ME WHAT DO I DO

okay okay first of all THANKS???? like omg jdbckdnckfj im kinda freaking out a little bit i wasn't really aware of how many people actually read my shit on here lmao

OKAY! i'm going to do one of those ask things because i think they're really fun and i don't know what else to do if not that! so yeah!

~ · ★ · ~

moots! (you know who you are hehehe)

you can suggest either of these:

🪐 i write something for you! you tell me what, i'll just write a short-ish thing, either fanfic or any other ideas you give me <3 (you can choose english or spanish too!)

🎨 i make you a lil doodle! digital or traditional, idc, a sketchy portrait or a drawing of a fluffy cat or whatever you wish!

🪞 i tell you what piece of art reminds me of you! and i mean paintings, novels, sonnets, films, sculptures, whateverrr

📼 song rec! pretty self-explanatory but you get a song that i am obsessed with and that reminds me of you somehow! this will probably be very unhinged and very funny AND very gay

~ · ★ · ~

literally anyone (moots included in this too, obviously!)

🗝️ i compare you to something very specific (flower types, kinds of clouds, an specific colour, a feeling, etc. literally anything) and probably give you a weird and lowkey poetic explanation for it!

🌻 i answer a question about me! nothing too personal/private of course, but all kinds of random stuff to make me yap are pretty much welcome!

🪶 i answer ANY question about my current fic BUT only with yes/no (i probably won't be able to hold myself back from saying more but technically i cant ok?)

~ · ★ · ~

friendly reminder too that gossip and rants and overall yapping are very welcome in my ask box so of course feel free to say anything to me now or whenever you might need! <3 i probably sound like im joking but i love to give advice to people lmao

okayyyyy (i feel like ive said okay a lot of times in this post) that's it!! again THANK YOU GUYS<3 i love you all really 😭 i'm tagging every one of you here btw you're not getting away with this heheheh

@clearqueensong859 @ineffably-fucked @ciorann @thatoneguyhu @nonage4life @junkiepunkie @aletharaej @samisamousa @outromoony @magicwithclass @possesedanddepressed @somanyquestions-featuringanxiety @nyx-taylors-version @chaserofstars11 @isalikescherriesandblue @ll-until-the-very-end-ll @the-moon-and-stars-4ever @andreainlove @addsalwayssick @whydousernamesevenexist @wisegirl42 @t1cyh @glitchedmoon5 @the-fandoms-onceler @burningchopshopblizzard @sparklingwatermelo @equippedtolove @bloutwo @g-doggs-blog @kikinkapipi @nonsensicalnonsense00 @wolfstarjunkie @innielvrz @ssutton74 @treefairy-28 @siriuslyreggie07 @brnwynkl @mynametheyspeakof @jesssss28 @eczl1pse @actually-dumb-blonde @rocknr0llz @huskyhaven @vintagetee13 @mayaspeaks @clementineashton @dutifullynervouscreation @hawaiianshirttaco64

(gonna reblog with the other half of you now) <333

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 21

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

It isn’t until you hear the front door that you leave your bed. Much of the morning you’ve spent listening to the buzz of your mom and Steve’s murmurs. They’re plotting their surprise and you’re left to suffocate in anxiety. You can’t think of anything they might be planning. 

You get up and gently open your door. You tiptoe into the hall and peek into the kitchen. No one’s there. The bathroom door is closed and you hear your mother’s cough from inside. That reassures you somewhat.  

You continue down the hall and stop by the front door. Once more, the drone of Steve’s deep timber cuts through the walls. You lean over to peek through the window beside the door, tugging the edge of the curtain back with a single finger.  

Just at the threshold of your mom’s lot, Steve stands with his broad back to you. You glimpse two figures on the other side of him; blonde, primped, and pretty. It’s Marge and Callie from the HOA. They hand something to him and he examines it as he bends his neck. Their voices drift in through the screen but the words are obscured by distance. 

Marge plays with the perfect flip at the bottom of her hair and Callie pushes out one hip. You wonder if they’ve hand delivered their first rebuke. Oddly, their interaction doesn’t seem tense. 

The women preen up at Steve and finally walk off. He watches after them, shifting on his feet, then turns and marches up his walk. You get a better look at what’s in his hand as he diverts and stop on the other side of the low fence. You strain to keep sight of him around the trim of the window. It’s a tupperware container. He dumps it in the bin and grimaces, letting the lid fall back down heavily. 

You back up as you hear the bathroom door. Your turn and sniff, rubbing your temples as you drag your feet along the hallway. She emerges in a cloud of hairspray and perfume. You crinkle your nose at her. 

“Morning,” you babble dumbly. 

“Would you hurry up,” she sneers, “we gotta be going soon.” 

“Right, sorry, mom, I was just--” 

“Just putting something on,” she snaps. “Steve’s gone to get dressed then he’s back to drive us.” 

She brushes past you roughly and you peer after her as she goes into the kitchen and pours what’s left in the coffee pot into a mug. She tuts and shakes her head as she drinks tediously around her painted lips. The makeup and hair suggest that jeans really aren’t an option. 

You return to your room and scour your dresser and closet. You don’t have much more than handmedown jeans and tee shirts. Like everything else about you, clothes are an afterthought. You only have that dress. 

You change into the polkadot dress. It doesn’t fit any better than last time. It’s too hot for a sweater as a sheen already settles over your forehead. You peek out before you cross the hall. You think your mom is done in the bathroom. 

You brush your teeth and wash your face, going through the basic steps of your routine. You never do very much. You wrangle in your hair as best as you can but you still feel inadequate. You step back into the hall as your mom’s footfalls stomp closer. 

She’s in a green satin dress. The forest tone is muted but the cut is elegant and the fabric expensive. You haven’t seen her in anything that nice since before her diagnosis. Together with her hair and makeup, and the necklace around her neck, she doesn’t look sick at all. 

“Oh, mom, you look pretty,” you say. 

“Yes, yes, move,” she elbows into the bathroom, “I have to touch up.” 

You nod and your cheeks pinch. You flit back to your bedroom and search the little basket in your top drawer. You find the silver bow pin and weave it into your hair. It’s better than nothing. You shrug. You don’t have any other jewellery really. 

You close your door and wait in your room as your mom snaps and slams around in the bathroom. Her footsteps thump down the hall then click back up in heels. She sounds like she’s pacing. She only stops as the front door opens and you hover on the foot of your bed. 

Your mother holler’s your name and you stand up. You come out and scurry down the hall. You pick out the brown strappy sandals that don’t really go with your dress. Your other option is sneakers and you don’t think she’d be very happy about that. 

“Well, you two look lovely,” Steve praises as he stands just inside the door. 

You murmur a thanks and look up. He’s wearing a blue suit and his hair is combed and style neatly. Your eyes round as you look between him and your mom. You’re underdressed to a painful degree. 

“Ready to go?” Steve asks as he checks his watch, “we gotta be there by ten.” 

“Ready,” your mother chimes. 

Steve backs up and opens the door as he steps out onto the porch. He holds it as your mom struts through and you follow as you cross your arm over your stomach and rub your arm. He beams at you as you try shrink into nothing. 

You follow your mom up the walk and to Steve’s car pulled up at the curb. As you stand at the passenger side and Steve strolls up behind you, your mom leans in and lowers her voice to a harsh whisper, “pull your dress up.” 

She pinches the strap and you look down. You gulp and try to adjust it to cover more of your chest. You really don’t know when they got so... big. You turn away as Steve passes and goes around the back end. As you tug on your dress, he glances over and you make a face, caught in the adjustment. His cheek ticks and he quickly looks away and strides up the other side. The door unlock with a click. 

“Alright, ladies,” his opens his door, “today’s the day.” 

You get into the backseat as his declaration rings in your ears. The day? What day? You lift yourself and push your skirt under you as it catches behind your bum and you drop down, your chest bouncing with the motion and you once more tug on the flimsy fabric. 

Your eyes are drawn up as Steve fixes the mirror and you meet his eyes in the reflection. Can he see you? You quickly avert your gaze out the window and pull on the seat belt. Your stomach is roiling like a steaming pot. You don’t like surprises. 

🏠

The large metal letters above the romanesque entry read ‘CITY HALL’. You walk behind Steve and your mom as they enter through the double doors. Their pace is urgent and they are quiet with anticipation. You do your best to keep up though you wonder if they even remember you’re there. 

The twists and turns past the plaques that delineate different departments and arrows the point to others has you disoriented. Why are you here anyway? It seems like important stuff for adults. Well, you are an adult too. 

You join a queue inside an office with windowed walls. You hadn’t been paying attention when you entered. You crowded your mom and Steve as you try to stay away from the person behind you. The line moves slowly as the clerks behind glass call numbers out to bring up the next person. 

“Rogers, Steve,” Steve declares as he steps up and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, then recites your mother’s name. 

“Oh, yes, the Judge will see you in private chambers,” the man in the booth says, “your witnesses?” 

“Got one, the other is on his way,” Steve tuts and lifts his wrist, checking the time, “he will be here by ten.” 

“Alright, you just want to go to your left and curl around this desk. You’re in Chamber Three,” the clerk directs and hands back the paper, “congratulations.” 

Steve nods and backs up. As he turns, your mother clings to his hand and he slowly closes his fingers around hers. He glances back as you follow, careful not to tread on his heels. You furrow your brow. It sounds like... 

“Surprises,” Steve chuckles as he stops before a door marked with a number three and lets go of your mom, “we’re getting married.” 

Your mom steps into the open doorway and you stop just outside as Steve lingers by the frame. You gape up at him, speechless. He smiles and rubs your arms. 

“We’re gonna be one big happy family,” he says, “I’m gonna take care of you and mom.”

[cera-writes]

First Impressions - A Kurt Wagner x gn!reader one-shot

Summary: You first met Kurt at the Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. The first time you laid eyes on the blue elf, you were smitten. Fast forward to the 90s and you and Kurt meet again under much different circumstances. tags: fluff, coming of age, mutual pining

The Bavarian sun, a pale orb veiled by a dusty scrim, cast a sickly yellow glow upon Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. The peeling paint on the rickety wooden sign promised wonders, but the air itself held a different story. It reeked of damp straw and the acrid tang of manure, a far cry from the anticipated scent of popcorn and sugared treats. Disappointment gnawed at you, a shadow settling over your heart despite your parents' enthusiastic promises.

Your parents had dragged you along on this trip. It was your summer vacation and apparently you were there to also stay with distant relatives. But you knew your parents were in it just for the free stay and a vacation away from the States. Out of all the touristy things your parents could have picked for you to do, they chose a musty, worn down circus. Honestly, you were ready to be back in America with your friends at the arcade or skating rink. This wasn't how you imagined you'd spend your summer at all.

"C'mon darling. The show is about to start!" Your mother ushered you inside the tent as the ticket master tore your ticket stubs in half as your father followed close behind.

Inside, the spectacle was every bit as underwhelming as the exterior. The big cats, once proud denizens of the savanna, paced restlessly in cramped cages, their magnificent coats dull with neglect. Their amber eyes, once fierce and watchful, were now clouded with resignation. The stench of their confinement hung heavy in the air, a stark counterpoint to the vibrant posters plastered precariously on the weathered orange and red canvas walls. You took a seat in the rafters for the best view, if you even could call it that.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker crackled to life, the announcer's voice a tired rasp battling with static. "Presenting," he declared, his voice tinged with a hint of forced excitement, "our opening act of the night, the Mystifying Nightcrawler!" A spotlight pierced the gloom, bathing the center ring in a harsh white light. From the shadows emerged a figure unlike any you had ever seen. Your eyes widened. Was he- was he really a mutant? You had never seen one in person. He was absolutely beautiful.

"It's him..." you mother sneered. Your parents however, held gazes of contempt and disgust towards Nightcrawler, and any other mutant for that matter. You tuned out their nasty whispers and just focused on the boy standing at the platform.

He was clad in a costume that shimmered with an otherworldly sheen, a deep cobalt blue that seemed to drink in the stark light. A mask, sculpted from some unknown material, obscured his face, but a shock of blue black hair, as vibrant as a summer sky after a downpour, peeked out from beneath it. It was a stark contrast to the peeling paint and sun-bleached canvas that surrounded him.

Then, he moved. There was an effortless grace to his every action, as if defying the earth's very pull. He launched himself from a platform hidden in the shadows, his form a blur of blue and black against the harsh white backdrop. He wasn't just swinging; he was dancing, his body twisting and turning with an impossible fluidity. Every leap, every flip spoke volumes of preternatural strength and agility. He was a silent symphony in motion, an enigma wrapped in cobalt and shadow.

But it was more than just his skill that captivated you. There was an aura about him, an undeniable magnetism that drew you in like a moth to a flame. It was a mystery that whispered promises of adventure and a world hidden just beyond the confines of the dusty circus tent. With each breathtaking leap, with every impossible maneuver, a spark ignited within you, a yearning for something more, something extraordinary.

For a fleeting moment, his gaze seemed to find yours through the harsh glare of the spotlight. A jolt of electricity shot through you, a connection forged in that shared glance. Then, with a flourish that echoed the fading magic of the moment, he vanished back into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of shimmering blue and the lingering echo of wonder in your heart.

The rest of the night was a blur. The other acts faded into oblivion, their performances mere afterimages compared to the spectacle you had just witnessed. Your mind replayed the image of the Nightcrawler, his impossible agility, and the enigmatic smile hidden beneath the mask. The program, clutched tightly in your hand, became a talisman against the fading magic, a tangible reminder of the night that had stolen your breath and ignited a latent flame deep within your very core.

As the applause dwindled and the spotlight dimmed, you felt a frantic energy surge through you. You couldn't just let this incredible encounter end. You had to meet the Mystifying Nightcrawler, to thank him for his amazing performance. It totally didn't have anything to do with your newfound crush. Nope.

Despite your parents' apathy towards mutants, their dismissal fueled a rebellious spark. Seeing the way they interacted with the worn-out animals solidified your resolve. This wasn't a place of wonder, but a place where the extraordinary was exploited. But Nightcrawler, he was different. He brought a touch of magic to the dreary spectacle.

"Come on," your mother called, her voice laced with impatience, "Let's get some overpriced cotton candy and get out of here."

You mumbled an excuse, your heart hammering in your chest. Scanning the emptying stands, you spotted him – a flash of blue disappearing behind a faded red curtain. With a last furtive glance at your parents, now deep in conversation with a vendor, you sprinted towards the backstage area.

The worn canvas walls billowed in the evening breeze, and the air thrummed with a low murmur of voices. You navigated the maze of caravans, each one a peeling testament to the circus's nomadic life. Just as you were about to give up, a figure emerged from one of the larger caravans.

It was him. The Nightcrawler. But instead of his vibrant costume, he was clad in worn jeans and a simple white shirt. He held a red rose in his hand, its vibrant color stark against his stark blue fur. His mask was off, revealing kind golden eyes and a mischievous grin.

Your stomach did a nervous flip-flop. This wasn't the enigmatic performer you'd admired from afar. He had to have been around the same age as you. His vulnerability made him even more captivating. You hesitated, unsure of how to approach him.

Sensing your presence, he turned, his yellow eyes widening in surprise. Then, a smile spread across his face, as warm and genuine as the setting sun.

"“Hallo Schöne”," he said, his voice a melodic baritone. "Seems the Mystifying Nightcrawler has a little fan."

You stammered, cheeks burning. "I, uh… I just wanted to thank you. Your performance… it was incredible. Um, you're also the first mutant I've ever seen. Sorry, I'm not from around here. I'm from America." You played with the hem of your shirt, fidgeting nervously around him.

He chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound. "Thank you, frau. You make a kind audience. I hope I did not frighten you. I know I look a bit... ungewöhnlich."

He held out the rose. "Would you care for this?"

You hesitated for a moment, then reached out to take the flower, its soft petals cool against your fingertips. "It's beautiful," you breathed.

His gaze held yours, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes. "So," he said, his voice dropping a touch, "what's a junge Dame like you doing backstage at a traveling circus?"

You inhaled deeply, the scent of hay and diesel fuel filling your lungs. As you spoke, a strange tingling sensation crawled up your arm, making the hairs stand on end. It felt... electric, like a current running just beneath the surface of your skin. You flinched, dropping your gaze from Kurt's captivating golden eyes to the rose in your hand.

"I…" you started, your voice catching in your throat. The tingling intensified, spreading across your body in a wave. Panic surged through you, a primal fear of the unknown. Before you could apologize or explain the sudden tremor, your vision blurred at the edges. The world seemed to distort around you, the vibrant red rose in your hand pulsing with an otherworldly glow.

Kurt's demeanor shifted instantly. His playful smile vanished, replaced by a mask of concern. He reached out, his hand hovering a safe distance from yours. "Are you alright, Freund ?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You struggled to speak, your tongue thick and heavy. The strange energy within you crackled, yearning to be released. This wasn't the first time your body reacted this way. You feared the worst. You were starting to believe you were a mutant too. But you could never reveal that to your parents.

They'd disown you in a heartbeat. All those scholarships they made you apply for would never matter if they found out you were different. You knew you needed to get away, to disappear before you lost control and revealed your secret in front of the mysterious Nightcrawler.

"I… I don't feel well," you managed to force out, your voice shaky. Shame burned in your stomach for the abrupt change. "I should get back to my parents."

Kurt's eyes flickered with understanding. He nodded, a hint of sadness in his gaze. "Of course," he said gently. "Let me take you to them."

He moved with his trademark agility, guiding you through the maze of caravans with an ease that left you breathless. You stumbled slightly, your legs shaky under the weight of the unknown power coursing through you. Kurt offered you his arm for support, but before you could reach for it, your parents' voices cut through the air.

"There you are!" your mother exclaimed, her voice laced with annoyance. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

You turned to see them approaching, their faces etched with concern. When they spotted Kurt hovering beside you, their expressions hardened.

"Don't touch our child, freak!" your father barked, his voice thick with disgust.

Shame washed over you, hot and suffocating. Kurt's hand recoiled as if struck. His shoulders slumped, the joy that had previously emanated from him extinguished.

"I was just helping, Herr," he said, his voice mild yet firm. "They seemed unwell."

Your mother scoffed. "Don't need any help from your kind." She grabbed your arm possessively, dragging you away before you could even look back at Kurt.

"Wait!" you cried, struggling against her grip. But your voice was lost in the bustle of the crowd. You stole a final glance over your shoulder, only to see Kurt standing alone, with one hand rubbing subconsciously over his other right bicep.

His yellow eyes, once filled with warmth, now held a flicker of sadness as they looked off in the distance. He was the first of his kind that you had met and you finally felt like you resonated with him. But it was all too short lived. All you were left of him was the single red rose he'd given you as a memory of your encounter.

With a heavy heart, you were whisked away from the circus, your first encounter with the Mystifying Nightcrawler ending abruptly, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste and a burning question: would you ever see him again?

The 90s were a whirlwind of discovering and finally, somewhat, honing your mutant abilities. Mutants, now looked down upon more than ever, made you even more of an advocate for your kind. You got that scholarship but at the expense of your parents actually disowning you after a fight at the dinner table ended up with your mother's smashed fine China on the floor at the expense of your powers.

For some reason, they'd brought up Nightcrawler again and it sickened you to the point that you'd had enough. When they found out you were just another "freak" that was the last straw and they kicked you out and you never heard from them again. Good riddance you'd said.

The only thing that sucked about them kicking you out was that you had to quickly find a job and a place to live or you'd end up just another homeless mutant on the streets. All that trust fund money had long gone down the drain when they cut you off completely.

You were residing in New York now. You found a dingy little apartment to live in while you finished up your degree in Advanced Physics. You were finally set to graduate this month and after that, who knows.

You wanted to find a job and finally move out of the crappy little apartment you'd called home for a few years now. At least your neighbor next door, Peter Parker, was usually quiet and it gave you room to study without having to complain with a knock at his door, even if he did come and go at odd times of the night.

One particular day, you were sitting at your favorite little corner coffee shop, studying for your final exam, when all hell broke loose on the street. A piece of large shrapnel flew through the glass of the shop, eliciting screams and terrified shouts from pedestrians as people flew to take cover.

You dove for cover under the overturned coffee table, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. The tremor that had rattled the windows had morphed into a full-blown city-rattling rampage. But it wasn't an earthquake. The tremors moved, a monstrous crimson figure stomping through the city streets, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Juggernaut. You recognized him from news reports – a mutant powerhouse the X-Men struggled to contain. And here he was, rampaging through your city like a bull in a china shop.

Panic threatened to consume you, but amidst the chaos, a voice in your head rose above the fear. You were no longer the scared kid, afraid of their powers, who watched Nightcrawler perform at the circus.

If this new era taught you anything, it was discovering your mutant abilities, the escalating anti-mutant sentiment, and the brutal fight with your parents that ended with disownment and shattered family heirlooms. The memory of them calling you a "freak" like Nightcrawler still stung, but it also ignited a fire within you. You wouldn't be another victim.

Squinting past the overturned table, you saw the X-Men, their familiar blue and gold uniforms standing resolute against the crimson giant. And there he was, Nightcrawler – older, even more handsome than you'd remembered, but with the same twinkle in his eyes. He fought with a desperate grace, teleporting in and out, trying to flank Juggernaut. But the red behemoth seemed unstoppable.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the theoretical knowledge from years of studying advanced physics. The raw energy of the city pulsed around you, a live wire waiting to be tapped into. It felt almost like an extension of yourself, hungry for release. You stood, running from your sense of security, and joined the chaos outside.

With a surge of will, you unleashed it. A concentrated beam of pure energy, hotter than a thousand suns, erupted from your outstretched palms. It slammed into Juggernaut's side, the red giant staggering with a surprised grunt. The X-Men seized their chance, a flurry of attacks momentarily halting the crimson tide. Cyclops blasted an optic beam, Storm unleashed a swirling vortex of wind, and Wolverine harried Juggernaut with his adamantium claws.

Kurt, finally free from the relentless onslaught, materialized beside you, his yellow familiar eyes widening in disbelief. It was as if he'd seen a ghost. "It's you," he rasped, his voice barely audible over the din of the battle.

You offered a small smile, a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Helping hand, remember?" Your voice was hoarse, but it held a newfound strength. With another surge of energy, you deflected a stray blow from Juggernaut, allowing Storm to unleash another torrent of wind.

The X-Men, rejuvenated by your unexpected intervention, pressed their attack. Professor Xavier's telepathic voice boomed, urging Juggernaut to stand down. The fight raged on, but your power tip, the concentrated beam of pure energy, proved to be the turning point. Juggernaut, overwhelmed by the combined forces of the X-Men and your unique ability, faltered. His helmet had crumbled, rendering him vulnerable.

Finally, with a roar of frustration, Juggernaut surrendered, taken away by the NYPD as they forced his hefty frame into the back of a mutant prisoner containment vehicle. Exhausted but victorious, the X-Men regrouped. Kurt materialized beside you once more, his gaze still filled with awe and disbelief. "Freund," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "Is it really you?"

You met his gaze, no longer the scared kid from the dusty circus tent. The years of hardship and self-discovery had forged you into a new person. With a defiant smile, you nodded, ready to tell your story and finally find your place amongst the X-Men.

You wanted more than anything to catch up with the infamous Nightcrawler. But Professor Xavier was making his way over to you, clearly wanting a word. The look on his face was nothing short of astonishment. Kurt, sensing this, gave you a reassuring nod as he turned to join the others once more.

"Are you alright, young one?" he inquired, his voice warm and calming.

You nodded, finding your voice a little hoarse. "Yes, Professor. Just a bit… surprised, I guess." You couldn't believe you were talking to the Professor X.

"Surprised?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I imagine so. But you were quite… extraordinary out there."

The compliment brought a shy smile to your face. You explained how you'd been studying advanced physics, how the energy in the city resonated with you, and how you'd finally been able to control it. You confessed your situation too, about the fight with your parents and being disowned. Shame burned in your stomach, but you held Professor Xavier's gaze.

"It seems you have much to learn, young one," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "But you also have much to teach. We've been looking for someone to help our young mutants hone their abilities, someone who understands the science behind them." His eyes twinkled. "Would you be interested in a position at the X-Mansion, once you graduate of course?"

A wave of emotions washed over you – relief, hope, and a flicker of something more. The X-Mansion. A place where you could belong, where you could use your abilities without fear. You looked at Kurt, who stood a few feet away, a wide grin plastered on his face. His saffron eyes held a spark of excitement, mirroring your own.

"I… I'd be honored sir," you stammered, a genuine smile blooming on your face.

Professor Xavier chuckled. "Excellent. Now, how about we get you cleaned up and settled in? The X-Mansion can be your home. In the meantime, we can work on your new alias." He chuckled lightly.

The mansion, a sprawling structure that seemed to rise organically from the wooded landscape, took your breath away. It was a world away from your cramped apartment, a sanctuary for those who were different. You settled in quickly, the warmth of the X-Men a stark contrast to the cold rejection you'd faced at home.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the lake behind the mansion in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself drawn to its peaceful serenity. As you sat on the edge of the dock, a sudden bamf! sound reverberated next to you as a scent of brimstone hung in the air. It was Nightcrawler.

Suddenly, you felt very conscious and shy all over gain. It was really him. There was no mistaking that sheen of blue fur that lined his skin.

"Quite the entrance you made today," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laughed, a nervous flutter in your chest. "I figured you could use some help."

Silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the water. You took a deep breath, finally ready to share your story.

"Remember what you said at the circus? About me being a kind audience?"

Kurt nodded, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features.

"Well," you continued, your voice dropping to a whisper, "I wasn't just kind. I was… smitten. You were the first mutant I ever saw, and it was like watching magic. The thought that for one second, I wasn't alone. That there was another similar to me."

You explained how your parents' reaction had fueled your fear, how you'd kept the rose all these years. You confessed how they'd called you a "freak" just like you'd mentioned, and how you'd ended up alone after they disowned you.

Kurt listened intently, his expression a mix of sympathy and something else you couldn't quite decipher. When you finished, he reached out, taking your hand gently in his. His blue fur felt surprisingly warm against your skin.

"My Freund," he said, his voice soft yet firm, "You are no freak. You are extraordinary. And your parents… well, they were wrong. Trust me, I've lived all my life thinking I was an abomination."

You felt a twist of pain at his words. He was so kind and sweet. Even just so as the night when you'd met him the first time back at that old, sketchy Bavarian circus.

He squeezed your hand, and a spark shot through you. You looked into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own feelings there.

"The truth is," Kurt confessed, a hint of a blush creeping up his neck, "you've never left my mind either. There was something about you that day, a spark I couldn't ignore."

Your heart was hammering inside your chest. The thought of him feeling the same way all those years sent a warmth throughout your body. The thought that you'd somehow made an impression on him sent butterflies wildly dancing in your stomach.

The truth hung heavy in the air, a silent confession echoed in Kurt's blushing cheeks and your own hammering heart. The twilight sky, ablaze in fiery hues, seemed to witness the unspoken yearning that crackled between you.

His touch, a gentle pressure on your hand, sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You leaned in, drawn by a force stronger than gravity. The kiss, when it came, was a revelation – tentative at first, then deepening with a passion that mirrored the vibrant tapestry of the setting sun.

His lips were warm and surprisingly soft against yours, the sweet taste of berries lingering on his tongue. Your hand reached up, tracing the contours of his face, the velvety texture of his blue fur sending shivers down your spine. He reciprocated, his touch delicate yet firm, as if afraid to break the spell.

The kiss deepened, a silent conversation flowing through the press of your lips. He tasted of adventure, of something innocent but also skilled in the ways of romance. A gentle breeze rustled the nearby leaves, momentarily pulling you apart.

"It's Kurt... my name is Kurt Wagner," he'd finally told you his name.

You gazed into Kurt's eyes, a newfound understanding blooming there. The dam holding back your emotions seemed to break.

"Kurt," you whispered, your voice thick with a desire you could no longer deny.

He responded with a low rumble in his chest, his blue fur darkening with a blush. Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, teleporting you both to a deserted corner of the mansion's rooftop.

The cool night air whipped around you, carrying with it the distant sound of laughter and music from the common room. The city lights twinkled in the distance, a glittering backdrop for the nascent intimacy unfolding between you.

His touch became bolder, exploring the exposed skin of your arms, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers trailed down his back, tracing the ridges of his spine and the surprising strength hidden beneath his lithe frame. Clothes became an unwelcome barrier, discarded in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises.

The moonlight, a silent witness to your blossoming love, bathed your entwined forms in an ethereal glow. Passion flared like wildfire, fueled by the years of unspoken attraction and the shared trauma that had bound you together.

The night unfolded in a symphony of whispered endearments and stolen breaths. With each touch, each lingering kiss, the anxieties of your past faded, replaced by the promise of a future brighter than the city lights on the horizon. You'd found each other, and this time nothing would take Kurt away from you.

[cyren-myadd]

Aranahe, Zeswa, and Kame'tire outfits

This is my Sarentu character, A'karu! I can never decide which look I like the best for her so whenever I open the game I change her outfit depending on what region I want to explore and complete quests for that day. Sometimes I lowkey treat AFOP like a dress up doll game cause I get so caught up in choosing the best look lmao

Some lore I made up about her just for fun:

I came up with the name A'karu by combining sounds from A'hari, her sister's name, and Kataru, her mother's name, because I wanted her name to be a tie to her family that no one can remove from her.

She tries very hard to live up to the Sarentu tradition of being a diplomat, and one way she expresses that is through fashion. She takes care to choose her clothes and paint in a way that will seem familiar to the Na'vi she interacts with. While fashion can be a source of fun and self-expression for her, she sometimes also gets too caught up in worrying about her appearance because she is insecure that she will come off as "human like" no matter how she looks.

Unlike her ever-changing wardrobe, A'karu almost always wears her hair in dreadlocks. Sadly, she doesn't really have any memories of her father, but A'hari described him to her many times, so A'karu knows he was a tall Na'vi with dreadlocks. When A'karu was little, she wanted something physical to remember her father by, like her mother's songcord, so she asked Alma if she could loc her hair like her father. Unfortunately, Mercer overheard and shut that idea down with cruel comments about how dirty and wild A'karu's father must've looked with such hair, and A'karu was stupid for wanting to imitate someone who "abandoned" her. Now that she's free and knows the truth, she revels in wearing dreadlocks, whether she keeps her natural color in the kinglor forest or dyes it while visiting the plains or clouded forest.

A'karu views Rinela, Nor, and Teylan as siblings despite not being biologically related. She doesn't blame Nor or Teylan for their actions, and wishes Nor would come back so he could get a chance to be forgiven and move forward like Teylan. Their little group just doesn't feel the same without him. When Rinela started talking about becoming the tsahik of their little clan of four, A'karu originally thought Nor would be the best choice to be olo'eyktan. With Nor being gone for so long, Rinela, Teylan, and So'lek have asked A'karu if she would be the new Sarentu olo'eyktan, but she feels unsuited for the role.

When A'karu gets older, she knows she wants to adopt war orphans with no place to go (Na'vi of course, but even human ones if there are any. Never know if there could be another Spider situation) and make sure no child ever grows up feeling abandoned the way she and the Sarentu did. Also have biological children if she finds the right person. She dreams about one day passing on Sarentu traditions to a new generation and bringing her clan back from extinction, while also bringing in new traditions from the clans her adopted children originally came from.

She doesn't have any solid memories of her parents, she never felt close enough to Alma to see her as a mother (despite Alma pushing herself into a maternal role), and Mercer never saw much potential in her so he never tried to insert himself as a paternal figure like he did with poor Teylan. So for most of her life, A'karu had no one she felt a parental connection to. When she and the Sarentu were little, Alma would sometimes let them watch old human movies and tv shows, and A'karu loved seeing heroic movie characters who protected kids, like Superman or Ellen Ripley. She used to daydream about these heroic characters swooping in to rescue her and the other kids from TAP and becoming her parents. When So'lek showed up as part of the rescue team, she felt a bit like her dream had come true. However, even though So'lek takes on a mentor role to A'karu and the Sarentu, he also holds them all at an emotional distance due to his own trauma, and their relationship is strictly mentor/student. A'karu is emotionally intelligent enough to understand this about So'lek without being told and respects it, but sometimes that childish part of her wishes So'lek would become closer, like an uncle or even a father figure.

Her closest friends outside of the Sarentu are Koranu (the weaver girl you can trade with from the Aranahe) and Okul (the goofy nonbinary character from the Kame'tire), and she loves to spend time exploring the Kinglor and Clouded Forests with them respectively to search for new materials for crafting and cooking. Though A'karu loves and respects the Zeswa, she doesn't spend as much time with their clan as the other two. The wide open plains make her feel nervous. She prefers the forests, where there are plenty of places to hide or use for cover is she is attacked.

Speaking of which, A'karu prefers stealth tactics when taking down RDA bases over all others. She was always one of the slowest with a gun during TAP training (something Mercer constantly harassed her for) and is also slow with a bow despite all of So'lek's lessons (because I myself am terrible at videogame lmao), so she prefers to aim at targets that aren't moving too much, namely, ones that don't know she's there. As far as she's concerned, it's much easier to take down AMPs and soldiers when they're not shooting at you. She even prioritizes going on foot to be stealthy when it would be more convenient to attack from ikran-back or direhorse-back because she hates the thought of Storm, her ikran, or any of the direhorses getting hurt because she's too slow with a weapon.

A'karu also has a hidden resentment towards Alma. Deep down, she wishes Alma would leave the resistance or face some other, harsher consequences for being complicit in genocide, but she thinks feeling resentful is not very "Sarentu-like," so she bottles it up. She secretly thinks Nor had a right to kill Alma's avatar, but keeps her thoughts to herself because she's afraid the resistance members will judge her for feeling that way.

Does anyone else have lore they made up about their Sarentu character? I'd love to hear it if you did!

[iridescent-flowers]

Con La Brisa (Leviathan x GN!Reader)

Leviathan x Reader

Tags: Romantic fluff, takes place on the beach and in water

Word Count: 2,849

Summary:

With the new skill you recently mastered, you plan to surprise Levi with a date underwater.

[✨Likes, Comments & Reblogs are supper appreciated!✨]

Notes: This work is also available on Ao3, feel free to leave kudos, comment or read there if you prefer Ao3 more ❤️

I forgot to add this in the original Ao3 post, but I was really inspired by the song from underwater scene in wakanda forever. So, I'd play the song on loop every time I was writing this. Feel free to give it a listen before, after, or during your reading session.

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It’s been a while since you and Levi last saw each other for reasons that he understood as well. For one, you were up in The Human World, tending to your regular life while you were on a break from the student exchange program. And for another, there were certain duties you had to fulfill as Solomon’s most promising apprentice. In other words, Solomon was keeping you very busy with the lessons he provided as your mentor. Admittedly, it made Leviathan feel a bit upset, but he would always feel better upon receiving your calls and messages. It made him even happier when you would do co-op with him, just the two of you.

This time around, you were reaching out for the most unexpected reason paired with a quite off-putting request:

“Levi! Let's go to the beach this Saturday! Solomon gave me the day off and I thought it'd be lovely to do some swimming!”

Leviathan was speechless… no… he was frozen. This is the first time you asked to do something so extroverted. It's quite difficult to think of any proper response.

“I don't know about going to the beach, MC…”

“Oh, I know you might be worried about other people in the place, but I promise there's a private part of the beach we're headed to. I figured I'd take you there because I also have a surprise to show you!” The smiley face at the end of the text made Levi think twice about rejecting the idea. Maybe it's overthinking, but he has this feeling that you might not take no for an answer.

He lets out a sigh, essentially out of awe at how spontaneous you are. Though admittedly, it made his heart race thinking about what would happen on that day. He imagined the scenarios painted by shoujo mangas, especially considering it would just be the two of you going.

His thoughts ran wildly with all the writing conventions he got from every manga he’s read. So much so that he wondered if he needed to practice playing volleyball, or maybe some tough talk when you run into a random group of troublesome strangers… What if you planned to ask him to help you put on some sunblock lotion? What about the conversation you might have as you watch the sunset?

Apart from that, you didn’t tell him to bring anything other than himself… did he need to bring anything? for him? for you? for both of you? Or—

“Stop this! It’s not like it’s gonna turn out that way anyways… even if we are dating…”

Even if going to the beach was the most typical kind of date for couples, he couldn’t believe you were inviting an otaku like him to go with you. If anything, he figured you’d bring Beel and Belphie, Asmo, or Mammon, who definitely wouldn’t refuse some downtime at the beach.

The same kind of thoughts ended up partially clouding his mind for the entire week. Luckily, not so much that it ended up becoming a problem for his duties as a RAD student and student council member. However, it did end up making him lose several rounds in the RPG game he was currently obsessing over.

When the day arrived, Levi had to make sure that the day would be perfect and ended up with a lot of stuff to bring after all. In response, Asmo and Mammon had to talk him out of bringing too many beach items. In the end, Levi just brought some sunscreen that Asmodeus shoved onto him, sunglasses, some swimwear, and himself.

“Are you sure I don’t need any of the stuff I was gonna bring?”

“Levi, if MC is the one that asked you out as a surprise, it should probably mean that  they’re  the one with an itinerary.” The 5th eldest of the brothers reasoned, speaking as if this was based on common sense.

“I-I guess you’re right about that…” Asmo was the love expert after all, despite being slightly uneasy and nervous, he adhered to his advice.

“If you’re gonna get cold feet over going to the beach, I oughta take your place and go with MC to the beach.” Mammon hit him in a way that was aggressively playful as if he was telling him to turn back and switch places with him. Levi raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed

“T-they asked  me ! Besides…”

We’re the ones dating, they’re in love with me.  He stopped himself before he could say his thoughts aloud, it was a close call.

“N-nevermind, I’m just going because it’s MC! You should never refuse MC!”

Right as he says that, a portal emerges and he sees MC by the entrance. The timing almost made Mammon and Levi squeal.

“Hey, MC! If ya planned on dropping by, at least give us a heads up! I think I lost 1000 years in my lifespan thanks to you!”

“MC!” Asmo squeals and runs over to give you the biggest bear hug.

“Hello guys! Just coming in to pick up Levi. How did I do with the portal spell?” You turned over to Levi with a glimmer of excitement in your eye. His eyes widened realizing how close your face was to his.

“U-uh…!” He took a step back and coughed, rose pink dusting his cheeks.

“It was actually really good! Solomon’s mentoring skills are definitely not something to mess with.” You giggled and took him by the hand before turning to the two brothers who were seeing him out.

“Well… off we go! It was nice seeing you all!”

“Take care ya damn lovebirds!”

“Have fun you two!”

Before Leviathan could say anything else, you both already made it across the portal and into the beach.

Levi was expecting some intense heat rays. To his surprise, the heat wave never came. Instead, he was greeted with a healthy mix of blue hues and fluffy clouds.

“Huh…” His eyes landed on the ground, feeling the warmth of white sand on his flip-flops. It was a small pet peeve, but he was going to ignore it for now.

He looked a bit farther and that this was a part of the beach that was relatively distant from where people would often stay.

“Not bad right? Let's head over to the docks.” Levi nodded, letting MC take his hand and walk him to the nearby docks. It was old, the varnish that protected the wood faded from the sunlight. The nails that kept them in place creaked loudly with each step, no matter how gentle they were. Regardless, it seems that the dock was sturdy enough despite its age.

The waves were splashing gently that day, telling you everything you needed to know about how today was going to turn out to be.

You giggled to yourself as you looked at Levi and back to the crystal blue water.

When you reached the end of the dock, you sat down, cross-legged, by the edge. Then, you motioned Levi to sit next to you.

Awkwardly, he obliges, letting his feet hang as he sits down.

“I begged Solomon to teach me this one spell… just watch.” You made eye contact with Levi who was looking at you expectantly. You gave him a small smile, trying to contain your excitement. Then, you let your eyes close as your focus was redirected to the objective you had in mind.

“Spirit of the wind, let my lungs respire and my body steel under your power.”

A blue light glows intensely within you as you take a deep breath in, and fades as you breathe out. The unexplainable sensation of the spell you cast radiates from your chest to your fingertips.

You open your eyes, all your senses returning to reality.

Levi blinks.

“Okay, cool trick and all… but what's the spell for?”

You raise an eyebrow towards your lover before speaking.

“You mean you  don't  want to experience a day underwater?”

“Huh?!”

“Suit yourself, fish man.” You shrug before launching yourself into the water below you.

“What?! MC, Wait!” His mind was too startled to think about hesitations. Immediately, he jumped in after you. His adrenaline spiked as he looked around to find you, preparing for the worst possible outcome.

He had a delayed realization that you were trying out a spell that could let you breathe underwater, even as you reach the depths of the ocean… at least… if it was executed properly.

He can only vaguely recall how the spell goes as he didn’t need it in his demon form. Because of that, he was too worried over whether or not the spell even worked, stressing over why you acted so rationally.

His worst fears were realized when he saw your limp body halfway through making its way to the ocean floor.

He cursed under his breath multiple times in a state of panic.

With all the strength he could muster, he swam his way to you and caught you in his arms.

Your mouth was slightly open, motioning to the idea that you might’ve already lost breath. He shook your body in an attempt to wake you. But it’s no use.

“MC… fuck… please not like this… it’s too soon… why the hell did you have to go and be so irr—mnn…!”

Suddenly, he feels the slight warmth and softness of lips pressing against his, and a pair of hands snaking their way to his cheeks as they try to pull him in deeper.

Suddenly, his worst fears were unrealized.

You were the first to pull away, giggling playfully as you did.

“A-are you serious right now!? You could have  died! ”

“Levi, oh ye of little faith… Do you really think humans are that fragile?” You caressed his cheek, in an attempt to reassure him a little, but he only felt more heated up about the situation, and admittedly, a little flustered from the kiss you shared.

“Yes! Well… n-no… not you… I should’ve known that but— but you should’ve known to test the waters first before jumping into the water like that! Imagine if the spell didn’t work!”

“Levi, this is the spell I wanted to show you. I begged Solomon for literal weeks to teach me and help me master it. You had no idea how many times I had to grin and bear having to go to the beach with him and have him prepare picnic food.”

“I mean… look~! My hard work definitely paid off, and now I can venture with you whenever you want!”

Before he could even argue further, he began to recall the times he would gush over how much he loved the water. Admittedly, they were pretty rare instances, but the fact you even remembered it at all was heartwarming.

The soft-hearted thoughts came to a full stop when he realized…

“Wait, that means you’ve already done this with Solomon… more than once?!”

‘Curse you Solomon, you lucky bastard.’  He thought to himself.

“I mean… he’s the only guy that could teach me the spell in such a short time. I would’ve taught myself but I was a bit overwhelmed with the textbook Satan lent me.

“Why didn’t you ask Satan, then? Not that I want you spending time alone with him either…” Levi asked, mumbling the last bit so you wouldn’t hear it.

“I feel like he’s going to hold it over my head if I do. Like make me do his chores when I get back to the Devildom or help him with an Anti-Lucifer league scheme.” You shuddered at the flashbacks you had, recalling how it ended up with you being strung up by Lucifer at some point.

“Now come on! Let’s go see the ocean! Or—at least— whatever we can see here— or we can just float around, that’s fun too!” You giggled to yourself as you moved around freely, feeling the coolness of the ocean hugging you, and moving against the motions you made. It really did feel like you were floating off the ground.

Quickly, you took Levi’s hand in yours, pulling him as you made your way to the first coral reefs you saw under the waters.

Time passed, allowing you to see all kinds of colorful fishes and reefs. You believed it was luck that allowed you to see such sights, especially how it’s become a rare gem in today’s time. It was as if the universe willed this particular date for the two of you. The thought alone made you feel a bit giddy inside.

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you turned to Levi and asked him: “So…how was today for you?”

Levi shook his head and smiled, it was as if he was trying to find the best reaction to give you. But at the end of the day, he felt dumbfounded and even more in love with you than he was before… even if he didn’t know it was possible.

He turned to you, fully awestruck. “You’re too amazing. Please don’t make me say more praise unless you want this little otaku to die of embarrassment.”

You giggled, raising your hand like you were taking an oath.

“You have my word.” You replied to him, “consider that as a thank you from me.”

Levi’s eyebrows shifted slightly in confusion “huh… but I didn't really do anything... I just followed your lead today ngl.”

“I know. But it's because of you that I got to fulfill my childhood dream to swim around in the ocean like this. It’s ten times better because I enjoyed it with you.”

He pulled away from your gaze for a moment, you were literally killing him with affection right now. A giggle escaped his lips in response, probably one of the cutest you’ve heard out of him today.

Suddenly, Levi let out a cough and his face shifted into a more serious expression.

“Can we d-do what we did a while ago? Minus m-me freaking out about you almost dying.”

“Which I didn’t,” You said matter-of-factly. Levi didn’t want to argue, nor could he if it was you. He just laughed in response.

“Which you didn’t.” He simply said. In response, you pretended to weigh your options before swimming as fast as you could.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Levi couldn’t help but scoff, this was a game of child’s play, and you knew it. So he gave you a little head start. He doesn’t know where this surge of pride came from, he just knew that he wanted to play into your set-to-fail plans.

He wasn’t always great with sports or running, but he was  definitely  a good swimmer when he wanted to be.

Levi felt his heart trying hard to escape from his chest. The moment he knew the distance was far enough, he made his way towards you. Levi could even feel his heart leaping bounds as you got closer.

But then… He realized, only at the last minute, that he had no clue what to do once he caught you.

Under a millisecond, his mind descended into panic mode. Right before he could think to stop, he had already collided with your body. From there, everything happened in slow motion.

There was something about the water that made how you both tumbled together embarrassing and beautiful at the same time. Perhaps, Levi thought, it was because the two of you seemed to circle around each other forming something close to the motion of a yin-yang symbol.

You were about to burst out in laughter but stopped yourself as you saw that ultra-rare expression on your lover's face, the one he’d hide because he was too shy to show how happy you made him.

The fondness in his eyes shone brightly under the dimness of the ocean. Your heart was beating crazily now, telling you to shower him with as much affection as you could in every kiss.

You obliged, feeling the world around you spin slowly as you did. It was something right out of a magical girl manga, but more. In Levi’s mind, he believed nothing could top the real thing, not even fiction.

“MC… I think I want… to kiss a little bit more…” Even in the depths of the sea, you could tell how much Levi was blushing as he sounded out his wants. The best thing about Levi was how he always expressed his desires shyly. He does his best to gather courage when he feels that he truly needs it. It was his cutest quality and because of that, you smiled.

“You can always have more because you already have all of me.”

His eyes narrowed, trying to hide his giddiness with a cringed expression. You shook your head, you could read him so well.

The two of you kiss again, feeling time and space disappear for the moment. In that moment alone, you were both one with the ocean and one with each other. Feeling what it is to love and be loved, your hearts soared infinitely, as though they were with the breeze.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.