#would be so far ahead of me and no adult ever comforted me about it

[boneless-mika]

I wish I could go diving but unfortunately I’m terrified of fish, I couldn’t handle going into their home

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter four ♡

Summary: Halloween night arrives at the Hoffman barbecue, and you find yourself masking feelings again.

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: Oh, i'm not over... - thank you for your comments, they're so fun lol you all make me laugh !! <3 Hope you enjoy this part.

October 31st. You let your feet drag across the cool bathroom tile, feeling every step. There was something comforting in that small heaviness, your body still lulled by the weight of lunch, and your mind restless, carrying the remnants of memories you'd been revisiting all afternoon. You turned on the shower, waiting a moment before stepping in, the heat closing around you like a second skin. As your fingers combed through your hair, scrubbing it softly, your thoughts slipped forward, out of your control, toward the evening ahead, as inevitable as the pull of gravity.

Last year felt impossibly far away. Sarah had wanted to be a vampire. You’d found her a set of plastic fangs, which she wore with a grin that pushed her cheeks high up on her face. Her cape was metallic, shiny as foil, falling past her shoulders, and she looked so delighted, bouncing on her feet in front of the mirror. You'd managed to take more photos than you ever needed, laughing at her exaggerated grimaces and capturing her tiny poses. Joel had been there, too, playing along, wide-eyed with pretend fear, leaning away from her “fangs” in a way that made her giggle. Every single picture was still on your hard drive—photos from a time you could hardly believe was only a year ago.

This Halloween was different. Sarah had decided on her costume weeks back—an astronaut. You’d spent the better part of September helping her piece it together, and she was beyond excited. She’d be with her friends tonight at a “scary” sleepover, which she’d told you about, bright-eyed and practically bouncing with anticipation. It was strange that she wasn’t here. It felt like there was a piece of Halloween missing, but she hadn’t felt it that way at all. To her, this was the most exciting plan in the world. You’d felt it too, in her voice, like a little pinch in your chest.

This would be the first Halloween in years you’d spend without her, alone at the Hoffmans' barbecue. And without Sarah, Joel wouldn't come either. His attendance at these neighborhood gatherings had always been more about you than the event itself, which you’d always appreciated without needing to say it out loud. You could picture him, standing with a beer, blending into the background, jokingly complaining about the crowds. He’d said he didn’t care for the noise, the small talk, and the endless kids weaving through adults like they were on a secret mission. But you’d noticed the way he’d watch Sarah, his face softened as he looked on, his attention lingering in that way that showed he didn’t mind being here, really, because it was with you and her. And the two of you—Joel and you—could talk about anything. He made everything feel like a continuation of one long conversation, like you’d just pick up right where you’d left off, glancing at each other and knowing what the other meant without even saying it.

You could also picture Clara, who’d come over to him every year, her voice lilting as she placed her hand lightly on his arm, her laugh soft and maybe a bit forced. She had that amused smile, that slight lean toward him whenever she spoke, and you couldn’t resist teasing him about it later. He’d always looked so puzzled whenever you brought it up, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were hinting at. She’d been living in the neighborhood for years, a few houses down, in that bright yellow house, and you knew she’d nursed a quiet crush on him for a while. And Joel, for his part, never seemed to notice.

The thought made you smile, picturing him in that moment, eyes narrowed, brows creased, looking at you as if to say, “Why would she be interested?” But as soon as you felt the smile, the weight of reality caught up. Joel was no longer in your life in the same way. He wasn’t “your” Joel anymore, the friend you’d poke fun at and swap knowing glances with. He wouldn’t be coming to the barbecue this year. With Sarah gone and things fractured between the two of you, he’d have no reason to come. 

Maybe this would be the year he’d finally spend Halloween as he’d always said he wanted to—in the quiet of his house, watching a horror movie, the occasional interruption of trick-or-treaters breaking the silence as he handed out candy. The picture of him there, his small, self-contained world entirely separate from you, felt like an ache that had been growing for a long time, quiet and steady.

You missed him. And it made you furious to feel it, like he had somehow taken something from you by hurting you, even though you knew, rationally, that wasn’t true. Still, the feeling stuck, simmering somewhere in the background. You hated that you missed him at all.

*

Your steps matched Travis’s as you left the house, his voice filling the space around you, his hands carving shapes in the air with his animated gestures. The crisp October air wrapped around you, a lingering autumn sun casting a warm, golden wash over everything—the leaves curling on the trees, the lawn stretching out beside you. You hugged your flannel a little closer, fingers brushing over the thick fabric. It was just the right layer—a deep green fleece, oversized, over a worn black T-shirt. You were warm, content, happy even, if only you could hold on to that feeling.

Beside you, Travis was recounting a work spat, his colleague’s tone and insults reimagined in Travis’s flurry of hands. You caught the edges of his words, murmuring a few responses that seemed to satisfy him. By the time you reached the Hoffmans’ house, you were both following the gentle glow of orange lights strung across the yard, stepping into a scene that felt dreamlike, suspended in that late afternoon haze. There was a large oak tree strung with little yellow lights, glowing faintly in the dying sunlight, the whole place set up in the same meticulous, festive way the Hoffmans always did. 

Every corner had been turned into Halloween, with cobwebs woven over bushes and pumpkins large and small lining tables, some carved and flickering with candles, others untouched, casting shadows across the tablecloths. Guests mingled at scattered tables, warm drinks in hand, their voices and laughter filling the air with a kind of warmth you hadn’t known you’d needed. The grill added a woodsy scent, smoky and rich, mixed with spices that made your stomach hum with anticipation. A few feet away, kids dressed as witches and monsters zoomed around, their laughter spilling into the light breeze, punctuating the chatter of the adults.

It was the kind of evening that felt ripe for sinking into, letting go of all the worries that had weighed on you lately. You wanted to let yourself simply be here.

Travis glanced at you then, his gaze softening in that way he had, his question as warm as his smile. “I’m heading for food—want anything?” he asked, eyes moving from you to the spread at the far end of the yard.

You pushed yourself up from the table, your hands planted firmly as if grounding yourself.

“I’ll come with you—this is the best part, right?”

The food was better than ever. Tender, perfectly cooked meat, salads piled high, and a sense of community humming through every bite. You found your spot at the table again, balancing your glass of beer on the edge, the faint strains of music drifting from the outdoor speakers blending into the buzz of voices around you. And then, like some personal invitation to memory, you heard the familiar intro; Eyes Without a Face, by Billy Idol, that unmistakable beat curling around you.

Your shoulders started to sway, almost without permission, and then there he was again—Joel. Just like that, back in your mind, as clear as if he were standing beside you. You could picture it—two years ago, slightly tipsy, singing that song in his living room, his hand on your waist, both of you spinning each other slowly to the rhythm, his head tilted back in a deep laugh, voice just slightly off-beat, and you trying and failing to contain your own laughter.

“You okay?” Travis’s voice pulled you back, concern lacing his tone as he looked at you. Your gaze had been locked on some invisible point on the table, your head leaning slightly, reliving a memory that suddenly felt all too close.

“Oh—yeah. It’s nothing. I just love this song.”

He smiled, nodding knowingly. “It’s a classic,” he said, his fingers tapping along with the beat.

You looked up and there, just beyond Travis, the Hoffmans’ glass door slid open. You stopped breathing for a second. Joel stepped out, looking like he’d walked out of some old photograph, hair a bit damp, dark jeans and a gray and black flannel layered over a plain white T-shirt, a pair of black converse grounding him to this moment. He moved toward one of the tables, brushing his chin absentmindedly, his lips moving in time with the music, glancing around as if he were taking it all in for the first time.

And then his gaze found yours.

You held your breath, as if that could somehow make you invisible, as if that would erase this moment. But his eyes stayed on you, unreadable, a half smile on his face or maybe just a neutral expression—some mix of familiar and distant, like he was watching you from a place you could never fully reach. You swallowed, shifting your focus back to Travis, who had his eyes on his phone now, idly typing something while he continued to eat.

“I should’ve dressed up tonight,” you said, your voice intentionally light, trying to shake the weight that had fallen over you. “I don’t know what I’d be, but still. It would be fun to pretend for a night.”

Travis chuckled, leaning in closer, but you could still see Joel over his shoulder, that steady gaze, watching from his own table.

“I know a party tomorrow night—my friend’s hosting, if you want to go with me. We can pick out costumes tomorrow morning, make a day of it.”

You smiled, surprised at how genuinely it formed, pushing your hands together in excitement.

“Really? I’d love that! I haven’t dressed up in years.”

Travis’s face lit up. “Then it’s a date. We’ll figure out the costumes in the morning. Anything you want.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into that feeling, that lightness in his offer, something to look forward to. Your gaze wandered to Helena and her little daughter by the pool, her laughter carried to you on the breeze, her face illuminated in the soft glow of fairy lights. You patted Travis’s hand and stood up, gesturing for him to follow. He caught on, falling into step behind you as you made your way to greet them. 

But as you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, lingering there in the space between.

It had been more than a month since you'd last seen Helena. She had traveled back to her home country after her father’s death, sorting through family matters, settling things that couldn’t be left undone. Now, with her daughter Iris perched on her lap, she looked better, lighter even. There was a calmness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, her fingers tracing gentle circles over Iris’s shoulder as the little girl, dressed as a bumblebee, poked unenthusiastically at a slice of pumpkin bread. You sat next to her.

“Hey,” Helena said, catching sight of you with a warm smile that seemed to melt away everything around you—even the awareness of Joel, somewhere behind you, his gaze like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m… fine,” you answered, hesitating as your eyes drifted to Iris, who looked up at you with a shy, dimpled smile. “When did you get back?”

“A few days ago. I was actually planning to stop by tomorrow,” Helena replied, brightening as she added, “I thought we could have dinner, get the girls together, and our guys.” She gave a little chuckle, nudging Iris lightly. “Paul would probably love having Joel around too. The poor guy spent the entire trip surrounded by women—my sisters are wonderful, but you know how it is. It was just him and my dad with all of us, and now…”

Helena had three sisters, each one of them stunning, with the same striking green eyes and dark hair that she had. When you’d met them last Christmas, it was as though you’d stepped into some enchanted fairytale—they moved with an effortless grace, magnetic and ethereal.

Helena’s eyes twinkled as she turned toward Travis. “You should come too, Travis,” she said, a mischievous glint in her expression. She shot you a knowing wink, which Travis, ever polite, caught with a smile.

“Sounds great,” he replied with an easy grin, though you felt a twinge of discomfort at the mention of “our guys,” the thought of Joel slipping into your mind unbidden. Trying to brush it aside, you nodded and shifted the conversation.

“Is Paul not coming tonight?” you asked, hoping to keep things light.

“No,” she sighed. “He’s been swamped at work, trying to catch up after our trip. But I really can’t complain. He was so great, staying home with me all this time, so I told him tonight he should just take his time.” 

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

“Helena, it’s so good to see you!” Brenda, always the life of these gatherings, came over with her usual warmth, her gaze lighting up as she reached out for Iris. 

Brenda’s costume was a striking homage—her spiky orange hair and dark lipstick made her look both bold and playful. She wore a white shirt stamped with slogans in block print, a chunky pearl necklace framing her smile. As she was sitting in front of Helena, she caught your eye and grinned.

“I'm Vivienne Westwood!” she announced proudly, preening a little under your gaze.

“You look amazing,” you said, meaning it. “And the food is, as always, incredible. You outdo yourself every year.”

Brenda gave your hand a squeeze in response, her gaze softening, but just as she was about to respond, her attention shifted beyond you, a pleased expression lighting up her face. “Oh! Joel, come over here!”

Your body tensed at the sound of his name, feeling as though the space behind you had just closed in. He was there, his footsteps echoing toward you until he was nearly at your back. You wanted to stand up, to avoid the moment entirely, but it would have only made things worse—too obvious, too awkward. Brenda couldn’t have known. Joel had always been a fixture in your life; it wasn’t strange to see him here, even if, for some reason, it felt like he was moving in a world that was no longer entirely yours.

You glanced up, catching sight of Joel as he leaned down to kiss Brenda’s cheek while she patted the seat next to her. His smile was casual, easy, as he greeted the others with a nod, his eyes lingering just a second longer on you and Travis than felt necessary. He looked completely at ease, unbothered by the tension knotting up inside you, sitting comfortably in front of you.

Brenda’s hand rested on his arm as she looked up at him with a fond smile. “Where’s your Sarah? I haven’t seen her all night.”

“She’s at a friend’s sleepover,” Joel replied, a hint of concern threading through his words, though he tried to disguise it with a smile. “So I’m here on her behalf, I suppose.”

“She’s growing up so fast,” Brenda said, her tone nostalgic as she gave him a soft smack on the arm.

Joel shook his head slowly, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face before his gaze moved to Iris. “Tell me about it. I remember when she was this little…”

Helena’s hand drifted over her daughter’s hair as she smiled back at him.

“It all flies by, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “We really have to hold on to these moments.” She turned toward Travis, and he nodded, a gentle look in his eyes as he watched Iris. 

“How old is Sarah now, Joel?” Travis asked, and you noticed a subtle shift in Joel’s expression, a kind of hesitance before he replied.

“Twelve,” he said, his voice quieter, his gaze falling briefly before meeting Travis’s, smile dissapearing.

“Twelve?” Brenda’s tone was incredulous. “I still remember the day you moved in, Joel! She was so little then, a perfect little angel! And you—how old were you then?”

“Twenty-seven,” Joel answered with a wry smile, a hint of nostalgia in his tone.

“You were just a kid yourself,” Brenda replied, shaking her head. “Always working, always rushing somewhere. And always putting your baby first.”

Joel’s smile softened, his eyes meeting Brenda’s with a warm gratitude.

“I couldn’t have managed without you,” he said simply, as though she understood all the years of support and help she had given him.

Helena glanced over with a thoughtful look. “Didn’t you just have a birthday, Joel?” she asked, her voice casual, but the question landing with a weight that made your heart leap. 

“That's right,” he murmured, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers against the edge of the table. “September twenty-sixth.”

“Hey, happy belated birthday then,” Helena said brightly, her smile lighting up the words. “Did you have a nice time?”

Joel looked at you briefly, and something flickered there, like he was turning over a memory he hadn’t expected to find. He shifted his gaze back to his hands. “It was good. Full of… surprises, I guess. Pretty sure Sarah told you all about it, huh?” He shot a glance at Brenda, as if grateful for a way out of the conversation.

“Oh, I heard all about it from Sarah,” Brenda said, grinning, her gaze settling on you with a warmth that made you blush. “You’re a lucky guy, Joel, to have two sweet girls looking out for you like that.” She patted his arm. “I’ll make up a little bag of candy to take home to her, all right? I know she loves the caramel ones.”

You smiled, trying to ignore the prickle of Joel’s gaze on you. And then a feeling dragged you back to years before, to when his Sarah was just three. You could pictured her as a toddler with wide eyes and a toothy, mischievous grin. Joel had shown you those old photos once, and you remembered how adorable she looked, her tiny hand clutching a toy tightly. Sarah had his smile—that same easy warmth, with eyes that crinkled and all but disappeared whenever she laughed. That gesture was even present in Tommy, now that you thought about it. Maybe it was purely a Millers thing, but it—

You realized Brenda was talking to you and straightened up, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Sorry, what?”, you asked.

Brenda chuckled, looking at you with a soft smile. “I was just asking, how old was Sarah when you first met her?”

“She was eight,” Joel answered before you could, glancing at you with a faint smirk.

"Yeah, eight," you echoed the number, ignoring the way his gaze moved over you, lingering with a warmth that felt almost invasive.

At that moment, Helena called Brenda’s attention back to a conversation about Christmas and Iris’s upcoming birthday, but Joel’s eyes stayed on you, searching your face like he was looking for something only you might understand. You tried to keep your own expression neutral, feeling Travis’s hand come to rest on your knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch helped you to breathe a little easier, though Joel didn’t miss the gesture. His gaze hardened as he glanced down, the line of his jaw tightening slightly.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, finally addressing Travis. “So, how’s business going, Travis? I heard something about real estate taking a hit. Times are rough, aren’t they?”

Travis, completely unfazed, nodded, his hand still on your knee. “It is. At least for now things are still good, but of course, I can speak for myself.”

Joel gave a slow, mocking nod, feigning an interest he didn’t feel. “Well, you seem quite competent. I have no doubt you sure are handy with business. Is your dad still running the company?”

Travis smiled, oblivious to the subtext that hung in Joel’s question. “Yep, still going strong, but I think he’s planning to retire soon. My old man is tired, I think.”

Joel raised his eyebrows in a mock gesture of understanding. “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You seem like the kind who’s got a knack for that… you know, the charm. Every successful businessman needs a little bamboozling spark, don’t they? And I... I think you fit the role.” 

“Joel,” you warned quietly, hoping to temper the tension you could feel growing at the table. But Joel merely looked back at you with a faint, defiant smile, ignoring the caution in your eyes.

Travis, patient as ever, simply shrugged. “I appreciate your good faith, Joel. It means a lot coming from you, I know what a hard worker you are.”

The kindness in his tone, the sincerity in his eyes—it made your heart soften. You turned to look at him with a warm smile on your face, how was he immune to the sharp words of the man in front of him? And Joel had a special talent for formulating painful and provocative sentences, but apparently Travis was not the easy guy to gnaw on. And you were grateful for that. 

He turned to you, his eyes warm as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to get us some drinks. Need anything, beautiful?”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “I’m good, thanks.”

As he rose and walked away, he gave your shoulder one last affectionate squeeze. You noticed Joel watching Travis’s every move, his expression darkening, and once Travis was out of earshot, Joel’s gaze returned to you. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation, his eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory way as they moved over your face, searching.

“Joel, really,” you whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. “You don’t have to treat him like that. He’s never done a thing to you.”

A smirk flickered across his lips, and he leaned closer, eyes dancing with a kind of challenge. “Treat him like what?”

You shook your head, pulling back to put some distance between you, but Joel’s gaze followed, steady, like he was waiting for you to react, hoping for it even.

Murmuring an apology to Brenda and Helena, you stood, slipping away to the table by the big oak tree where your empty plate and half-full glass still sat. You picked it up, taking a long drink, grateful for the quiet moment, even as you felt his eyes on you from across the garden.

Travis appeared in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he handed over a small plate with a chocolate cupcake, topped with a dollop of cream shaped into a ghost and dusted with coconut. The sweet smell hit you right away, and you leaned in, inhaling the scent, your mouth already watering. You took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate—it tasted like all of Brenda Hoffman’s best baking, delicious and indulgent.

“Maybe after the barbecue, we could head back to my place for a while,” Travis said, his expression slightly tentative, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of your response.

“That sounds perfect,” you replied with a small smile, trying not to feel self-conscious. As you savored another bite, you glanced toward the pool where Joel was still deep in conversation with Brenda, Helena, and Iris. A moment later, you noticed Clara, all golden hair and easy confidence, sliding into the seat you’d left vacant. She placed two plates on the table, one for herself and one for Joel, who glanced up as she settled in, looking pleased.

Travis followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a knowing look.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” he said, sounding almost amused, though his eyes held a faint hint of confusion. “I think I might understand why, i mean, i think i know why but…”

You blinked, feeling that all-too-familiar twinge of guilt.

“No, he doesn’t hate you,” you said, brushing off the thought. “He’s just acting… well, like a jerk.”

Travis nodded slowly, digesting your words, but then his eyes softened with curiosity.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… what happened with you two? Weren’t you best friends? I remember you two were always together, but lately…”

You sighed, feeling the tension build as you searched for a way to answer. Travis didn’t need the full story, not yet.

“Like I just told you, he's acting like a jerk,” you said, and it didn't take long to sense that Travis wasn't satisfied with your answer.“Honestly, we just… had an argument a few weeks ago,” you said, carefully choosing each word. “It’s been weird between us since then, I guess.”

Travis seemed to sense that you didn’t want to go deeper, and thankfully he let the topic slide, moving the conversation in a new direction as he began to tell you about the last book he’d read.

“I just finished The Red and the Black, actually,” he said, his gaze turning thoughtful as he picked up his fork, poking at his plate absently. “I didn’t like Madame de Rênal. I thought her choices were a bit… unconvincing.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as you swallowed the last bite of cupcake. “Well, we're talking about revolutionary and passionate times, you know. I mean, Stendhal had his characters reflecting all that intensity. Have you read Goethe’s Werther?”

Travis smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, yes, the Werther book. The one with the famous suicide, right?”

You grinned, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the one. The famous suicide and the iconic outfit. I know it gets heavy, but I’ve always liked it.”

He chuckled, nodding as if to humor you.

“My sister made me read it as a teenager, actually. I thought Werther was too… sentimental for my taste.”

You tried not to smile too widely, picturing a young, disinterested Travis, brow furrowed over Goethe’s verses.

“I get it. I was probably more sympathetic to Werther than I should’ve been. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic myself, so maybe it made sense to me. Though I’ll admit, he does get insufferable.”

“Definitely insufferable,” Travis said, still amused. “I’ve always been more into horror anyway.”

The comment made you smile—Travis had a whole shelf at home stacked with DVDs and old VHS tapes of classics like Nightmare on Elm Street, Cujo, and The Birds. You’d teased him about it, of course, but there was something oddly endearing about it too.

As the conversation flowed, a faint twinge made itself known in your stomach, and you shifted in your seat, trying to ignore it. You’d had a glass of beer and two tall glasses of water before coming over, so the feeling wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmured, excusing yourself as you rose from your spot.

In doing so, you glanced over Travis’s shoulder, only to catch sight of Joel and Clara by the pool. Brenda had moved elsewhere, leaving Clara at Joel’s side, closer than casual. She was leaning into him, her hand resting against his shoulder, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, her laugh light and flirtatious. Joel didn’t seem uncomfortable with her proximity. In fact, he was smiling back at her, his gaze locked on hers in a way that made your heart sink just a little. 

You looked away, feeling a strange pang that you couldn’t quite justify. Had he been ignoring Clara before simply because you were there, next to him? But now, alone with her… he didn’t seem to be ignoring her at all.

As you headed toward the house, you forced yourself to shake off the thought. You slipped through the door and let out a sigh of relief, the cool interior air calming your nerves. Walking quietly down the hallway, you reached the bathroom and knocked gently to check if it was free. It was unoccupied, so you slipped inside and closed the door behind you. You paused by the mirror, glancing at your own reflection, almost surprised by the tension in your eyes.

What was Joel doing, looking at Clara like that? Wasn’t he still with Sienna? And what would she think if she saw him now, flirting? It was hard not to wonder if Sienna was like Clara, someone completely different from you. 

Clara was a flash of brilliance, a woman who looked like she’d walked off a magazine cover, golden curls that fell like soft waves of sunlight, her skin bronzed from Texas summers, her green eyes glinting with a brightness that made her seem almost elemental, like an extension of the sun. Her voice was soft, delicate; every word felt chosen, measured. She was flirtatious, always laughing, always seemingly content with the way things were. You could almost imagine that Clara might be Joel’s type—a vibrant, sunlit presence. It would make sense; he was her opposite in every way. When you thought of Joel, you thought of nighttime, the murmur of crickets outside a darkened window, strong coffee and smoky whiskey, a deep, hidden undercurrent. 

And you? You weren’t sure what you were. You weren’t quite the night, nor the day. Maybe you were something in between, or maybe you were just… undetermined. You wanted to think you had some affinity with the moon, but even that seemed too defined.

You sighed, breaking your gaze from your reflection as you felt an urgency to finish up. A moment later, you were washing your hands, the warm water and lavender soap grounding you a bit as your mind drifted again, wandering along with the suds down the drain. You dried your hands with a soft cotton towel, inhaling the fresh, clean scent.

But when you opened the door, you froze in place. Joel was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his hands tucked behind him. He had been staring at the floor, but as soon as he heard you, his gaze flicked up. There was an intensity in his expression that made you pause, waiting for him to say something, to step aside, to let you pass. But he didn’t move.

When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the small space like a slow crack.

“Are you with him now?”

“With who, Travis?” you said, sounding more dismissive than you’d intended.

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Who else? Or is there another I don’t know about?”

You took a few steps closer, folding your arms, letting your expression go cold and tight, the same way it always seemed to be now, whenever you looked at him.

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Joel.” You lifted your chin. “I mean, last time I checked, you haven’t been all that open about your life either. So why would I tell you anything about mine now?”

Joel’s smirk twisted into something sharper. “Didn’t stop you from telling Tommy, did it?”

You shrugged. “Well, you’re not Tommy.”

Joel scoffed, crossing his arms, clearly entertained. “Telling Tommy is practically the same as telling me.”

You lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead and believe that.”

But his amusement faded, and he looked at you with something almost searching, like he was trying to find a trace of the way you used to be with him—kind, understanding, open in a way that had made him comfortable. You saw the shift in his face, in the way his eyes flicked between yours, like he was looking for some doorway back to that version of you. But she wasn’t here. Or maybe she was, just not for him anymore.

Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, as he asked, “Did you sleep with him?”

So you simply met his gaze, letting silence serve as an answer, your lips lifting in a faint, cryptic smile. And then you saw the moment he believed it: his jaw tightened, his breath went shallow, and his eyes seemed to darken, hardening.

The question hit you, and you stayed silent, unsure if an answer would expose the bitter knot you felt at your center. You hadn’t slept with Travis, not yet anyway. But Joel didn’t know that, and you found a petty thrill in letting him wonder, letting him believe what he wanted—that other hands, other lips had erased him from your memory, replaced every touch. That he had no longer been the last man to touch you. 

It was pathetic, you knew it, but the curiosity to see his reaction was stronger than anything else. So you decided not to answer, to let the silence lie for you.

“Like I said, none of your business,” you finally said, feeling something small and satisfied flare inside.

Joel chuckled, but it was a grim sound. He looked down briefly, and when he looked back up, there was an almost cruel gleam in his eye.

“Did he know where to touch you?”

You scoffed, turning the question back on him. “Do you really want to know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You knew Joel well enough to know he would go there if he could. But you couldn’t let him gain the upper hand, not here. If anything, you needed to keep him off-balance, keep him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I’m all ears,” he replied, his smile gone now, leaving only a hard, steady gaze that felt like it was drilling into you.

You felt your cheeks flush, but you held his gaze, determined.

“He was the best I’ve ever had,” you said, letting each word hang in the air, daring him to question it. You tilted your head, feigning a fond, private recollection. “Gentle, but rough when I wanted him to be. And you want to know the best part?”

Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, his expression softened. The dark look in his eyes deepened, his smile long gone.

“Afterwards, when I woke up,” you went on, drawing out each word, “Travis was still there.”

Joel’s head dipped, his eyes dropping to the ground, and you took a brief, selfish moment to take in the sight of him, almost broken in front of you. But something twisted in your chest; the satisfaction felt hollow, quickly replaced by a pang of something closer to pity, almost regret. You had an impulse to reach out, to tell him you hadn’t meant it, that Travis wasn’t even in the picture, that he hadn’t been the best or the first or anything. But you couldn’t allow that. 

You had to remind yourself why you’d stopped letting Joel in—how he’d left you out in the cold, how he’d made your feelings seem like nothing, as if they didn’t matter enough to consider. You had to remind yourself of Sienna, this woman who felt like a ghost, hovering between you and Joel, even though you’d never even met her. And if he was really with someone else, what was he doing here, pushing and prying, acting like he had the right to know these things about you? Why was he acting like he cared if you’d moved on, or if you were with someone else, when he was so openly flirting with Clara just a few minutes ago in Brenda’s backyard? Had he become a complete asshole, or had he always been like that and you were just now realizing it?

As the memory of it all flooded back, the tenderness you'd felt earlier drained away, replaced by a familiar, suffocating anger. It surged up from somewhere deep inside you, visceral and sharp, and before you could stop yourself, your body moved instinctively—stepping back, away from him—until your back hit the cold wall by the bathroom door. The impact was jarring, but it felt like a small, needed separation. 

Joel didn’t speak right away. He stood still, his eyes shifting downward, slowly, moving over your body, before meeting your face again. His expression was unreadable, like a mask he didn’t quite know how to remove. It irritated you, this silence, this uncertainty that hung between you two like an unwelcome guest.

Finally, you broke the tension, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping back, away from him. But just as you tried to distance yourself, his voice vibrated through the air, low and deliberate, cutting into your thoughts.

“That’s mine,” he said.

“What?” you managed, almost gasping, your eyes darting between his face and his hands, as if looking for something—anything—to explain this new, impossible tension. 

Joel didn’t move. He was still, a presence that loomed larger by the second. His gaze was steady on you, tracing your body and your face, slow and deliberate.

“The flannel,” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, rough around the edges. “It’s mine.”

You looked down at the fabric, the soft, familiar warmth of it, and felt a sudden jolt. God. He was right. It was his. But it had been yours for years. You'd worn it so often, so comfortably, that you'd forgotten it ever belonged to anyone else. Maybe he'd lent it to you once, a lifetime ago, on one of those cold nights when you both sat under blankets. But he’d never asked for it back, had he? He never seemed to care, and you never thought to return it. It had just... stayed with you.

When you lifted your eyes back to him, Joel had moved off the wall, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate steps, closing the distance between you. Too close. He was too close, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as his presence engulfed you.

“What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was a simmering undercurrent, a teasing tone that made your pulse quicken, though you weren’t sure why. “Did you forget to include it in your little box when you gave everything back to me?”

You felt a bitter chuckle bubble in your throat, an angry little sound that you couldn’t quite hold back. You shook your head slightly, irritated, your chest tight as you opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you, his words coming fast, sharper than before.

“Doesn’t your little boyfriend mind you wearing another man’s clothes?” he asked, his voice dripping with something like disdain, like he had been holding that question inside for far too long. His eyes darkened, gliding down to the fabric again, then to your body, before he reached forward, his fingers brushing the edge of the flannel as if testing the boundaries. “Or does he already know this isn’t the only thing of mine that’s wrapped around you?”

A shiver ran through you, a mixture of anger and something else—something hotter, something less easy to define. You didn’t want to feel it, but it was there, and it was impossible to ignore.

No. This wasn’t about that. This was about him—how dare he?

In a sudden movement, your hands moved to the buttons of the flannel, fumbling with them in a rush, eager to take it off, to rid yourself of him. But as you tugged the fabric down over your shoulders, you felt Joel’s hand close around your left wrist, his palm warm against your skin, halting you, slowing you down. The touch was too familiar, too intimate, and it sent a jolt of something you couldn’t quite identify straight to your stomach.

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly low and commanding, like he was trying to anchor you, like he was trying to hold you in place. “It’s yours. Don’t take it off.”

You snorted, a dry, incredulous sound, and with an almost violent motion, you yanked your hand away from his, finishing the job of removing the flannel with a sharp tug. 

Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening further, and for a moment, you could see the effort it took him to stay still. His eyes lingered on you, tracing your every move, as you held the soft fabric against his chest. You could feel the air shift, feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, and your heart beat a little faster. 

You looked up at him, the anger suddenly spilling out of you. “No. You’re right. It’s yours. I should have given it back to you a long time ago.”

His hand moved up to his chest, over yours, taking the fabric from you with a slow, deliberate motion.

“Put it back on,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to smooth over something that had frayed. "It's cold outside."

You wanted to fight it, to say something sharp, but your irritation bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good thing I live across the block, then,” you blurted, the words coming out thicker with frustration as you pulled your hand free from under his, feeling the heat of his fingers linger on your skin.

Joel's patience was running thin. His hand shot out again, grabbing the flannel in a fist and pulling it closer to you, the fabric stretching between your bodies.

“Stop being so stubborn and put it back on,” he said, his tone more demanding, more urgent. His voice had a sharpness to it now, almost like a warning.

Something inside you snapped. You shoved his hand back hard, with as much force as you could muster, pushing him away—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. His body didn’t move, though. It stayed solid, unyielding, the broadness of his shoulders making you feel small, like you were being swallowed by his presence.

Frustration bubbled inside you, gnawing at your chest as you turned sharply on your heels, determined to leave. Your steps were quick, purposeful, as you made your way toward the hallway exit, the air heavy with everything left unsaid between you and Joel. But then, a firm grip wrapped around your wrist, dragging you back to him. You pivoted on instinct, meeting his gaze with eyes darkened by anger, sharp and focused.

For a moment, your mind flashed with the impulse to tear his hand off your wrist, to wrench it away and walk out of this whole mess. But you let it go. Instead, you locked eyes with him, your breath catching as your irritation turned into something more potent—exasperation.

“Enough, Joel,” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I'm tired of fighting with you.” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this—how two people who once fit so easily together had ended up here, so broken and scattered. 

“Then let’s not fight,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was pleading. There was a quiet desperation in his words, a slight hitch, as if he was offering a fragile truce. “We can—”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” you interrupted, your words sharp and cold, the bitterness clinging to every syllable. “I can’t stand you anymore.” As soon as they left your lips, you realized how hard and cruel they sounded, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. Tired of the games, tired of the back-and-forth. The anger inside you surged again, hotter than before, as his fingers tightened around your wrist, forcing you to feel the weight of it. Desperation.

“Don’t look for me,” you continued, the words raw and unrelenting. “Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t look at me. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’ve had enough of all of this. If I could go back in time, I’d change everything, I’d avoid all of this shit.” The heat in your chest built as tears threatened, burning behind your eyes. “But I can’t. I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, so leave me the fuck alone for once. Avoid me if you can and I’ll avoid you. Pretend I don’t fucking exist. I don't know. Just stop it, Joel.”

The impact of your words hit him like a physical blow. You saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his mouth twisted, his face contorting in a wince. Something inside you sank, and for a moment, regret pierced you. But then, the anger pushed the guilt aside. He hadn’t been considerate of you before, had he? And that thought, that realization, let the remorse slip away.

His grip loosened just slightly, but he didn’t release you. Instead, his fingers trailed down to your palm, stroking it gently with his fingertips, his breath shallow and measured, like he was holding himself back from saying something more. 

For a moment, you both stood still, suspended in that space, him looking at you, and you trying not to look at him—waiting, anticipating what would come next. What was the right thing to do now? You should walk away. Right now. Now. 

But then his voice, quiet and soft, cut through the air.

“You don’t need me anymore?”

“No,” you said, the word escaping before you could stop it. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, and the second it left you, you could feel it: the squeeze in your chest, the twisting of your heart. It wasn’t true, not really. But you wanted it to be. You wanted it to be true more than anything.

Joel’s eyes flickered, just for a second, like they were searching for something in your face that wasn’t there. His expression faltered, his hand falling away from yours, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if the weight of your words had crushed him. 

“I know that’s not true, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t name, but it was too much. You couldn’t bear to see it.

You shook your head, refusing to let the crack in your own resolve show.

“Maybe not, yet,” you said, your voice colder now, harder. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it true.”

With that, you turned away before you could second-guess yourself, before you could see his reaction and let the guilt undo you. You didn’t want to stay. Not now. If you stayed a moment longer, you knew you would apologize, you’d cave, you’d let him back in. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t keep doing this. 

You walked quickly back to your seat, each step carrying you farther away from him, from the tension that had become unbearable. You barely noticed Travis’s worried look when you sat down next to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You were gone a while.”

You nodded, forcing a weak, half-smile. But inside, it felt like everything was crumbling. Your bones felt brittle, as if they might snap with the weight of it all. Your body had turned to lead, your muscles drained of all strength. Your eyes, heavy with unshed tears, were a reflection of the ache in your chest. 

You just wanted to go home, crawl into your bed, and never come out. The lump in your throat grew larger with every second, and the cold air stung your neck, making you shiver.

“What happened to your shirt?” Travis asked, noticing the way your body had become tense and cold.

You didn’t answer, relieved when he stood and came to stand beside you. You watched as he shrugged off his jacket, his movements gentle, as he draped it over your shoulders and helped you tuck your arms into it. 

Once you were warm, Travis slipped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him, his soft kiss to the top of your head offering a fleeting moment of comfort. You couldn’t help but lean into him, resting your head on his collarbone, inhaling the familiar scent of his perfume. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of being held, the peace of someone who wasn’t trying to tear you apart.

But then you heard it—the sliding door opening. And you knew. 

When you opened your eyes, you saw him. Joel. Walking out of the house, his pace slow, deliberate, as he clutched the flannel shirt in his left hand. His eyes were cast downward, but when he looked up, they locked on you. His expression shifted, something unreadable in the way he looked at you, and your stomach dropped. 

He walked toward his table, his fist clenching the fabric so tightly that his knuckles went white, his gaze never leaving you. You couldn’t look away either. It was like a magnetic pull. 

At his table, Carla was waiting, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk circling prey. You felt an involuntary surge of disgust. You wanted to stand up, to march over there and shake her, to tell her to leave, to stop, that she was being pathetic. But then, the sharp, bitter truth hit you: Carla wasn’t the problem. You were. She reminded you of yourself—the way you’d clung to Joel, the way you’d let him define you. 

Joel spoke, his voice angry and loud enough for you to hear from where you sat. 

“I’m going home,” he said, his eyes cutting through Carla as he raised his head to her height. Then he pulled back, holding out his hand. “Y'wanna come with me?”

And there it was—the knot in your chest tightened. Carla nodded, flushed with a victorious smile, and took his hand. The same hand that had held yours just minutes before. 

You closed your eyes, sinking further into Travis’s embrace, the ache in your chest spreading, overwhelming. 

You couldn’t leave now. Not with him walking out, not with her next to him. What would you do? Cross paths with them on the way out? Watch them walk away together? The thought was unbearable.

“Can we go to your place for a while?” Your voice was small, almost breaking as you whispered into Travis’s chest. 

“Sure thing, honey,” he murmured, the warmth of his body offering a small, fleeting comfort against the storm of emotions inside you.

-

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[dinogoofymutated]

Wolverine/Fem!Reader - Masterlist link

You've met Logan Howlett in every life you've lived since the 1900s. And in every lifetime, fate rips you from him just as cruelly as it forces the two of you to meet. How many lives will it take for the two of you to finally have your happily ever after?

General TWs: Reincarnation, death, Major character death (multiple times), Angst with a happy ending. Controlling familiail behavior, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of war, descriptions of violence/death, childhood trauma. Possible historical inaccuracies.

Here's the first chapter!! I waassss gonna wait until I finished part two and post both at once but TBH I was desperate to get this out! I hope yall enjoy this, and I would like to remind everyone that I am not a nurse or any kind of medical personnel, and I kinda struggled to find out about the procedures of ww1 nurses, so take most of the nurse stuff with a grain of salt! like watching a dumbed down version of grey's anatomy lol. I'd also like to say that I decided to make Logan's healing factor slower during ww1 and ww2, as he hadn't gone through the Weapon X program yet. Chapter TWs: Blood, injury, childhood injuries in the prologue scene, war n shit, ww1 canada is a tw on it's own.

     October 22, 1900.

    “Andy!!”  Your brother rolls his eyes at the sound of your high-pitched voice calling his name, turning around with a frown. He always had been faster than you, and today was no different. He had gone running into the woods when your mother had called the two of you in for lunch, and ever the devoted little sister, you had chased after him before she could notice what the two of you were doing. You’re panting when you finally catch up to him, your skirts scrunched up in your fists as you try your best to keep them from catching on bushes and vines.

    “Where are you going? Mama’s calling us for lunch!” Neither of you was supposed to be on this side of the woods, past the fence that marked your family’s property. It made you nervous to be so far past the boundary. Your older brother scoffs at you, turning away once again as he continues to march further. 

    “Father told me that he had set bear traps out to keep the animals away from the house. I’m going to see if he’s caught anything.” Andrew says stubbornly. You rush ahead to try and keep up with him, staying close and looking around anxiously. You never had been a rule breaker, and this was just a little more adventurous than you were comfortable with.

    “Bears? You don’t think we’ll find any, do you? I don't want to see anything be hurt.” You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Your brother laughs at you, the same way did the time you brought some a dying bird, or the time you had begged father to spare the rabbit that had been digging in the garden. He never understood why you were so soft-hearted.

    “You’re going to need to be more brave if you’re going to be an adult one day. Cowards get killed.” Andrews teases, cackling wickedly as he steps on a branch and the sound of it snapping causes you to flinch and cry out, rushing forward to grab hold of his arm.

    “That’s not true!” You cry. 

    “Yeah, it is!” Andrew argues. There’s a bit of a ditch in front of the two of you, and he shakes you off before he hops down. He holds his hand out to help you navigate the drop, and you take it eagerly as you carefully get down, making sure not to dirty your skirts any more than they had been. 

    “No, it’s not! It’s not true! It’s not true because I have you, remember? Big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters!” You persist once you’re finished. Andrew sighs again, but you don’t doubt his answer for a second. He rolls his eyes at you before he begins to walk on.

    “Of course I am. But you can’t expect me to get to you every time.” Andrew says. You’re about to refute that when the two of you hear a rustling in the bushes up ahead. Andrew holds out a hand to keep you behind him, stopping both of you in your tracks. The birds have stopped singing, and you know that it means something scary is about to happen. Dad calls it a bad oh-men or something along those lines, but you didn’t usually listen to him. Now you’re starting to wish you had.

    “Stay here. I think I hear something up ahead.” Andrew whispers to you. You try to grab for his arms as he leaves you, but he’s too far away, and you find your feet rooted to the spot. You’re too scared to move, holding your hands anxiously as you watch Andrew begin to stumble through the bushes cautiously. You don’t like this. You don’t like it at all. You can only see his head through once he’s through the thick of it, and you hear him huff in disappointment when he doesn’t find anything on the other side.

    “Never mind. There’s not even-” There’s a sound of a mechanical snap before Andrew falls to the ground with a scream. 

    “Andy!” You cry out, immediately bolting through the bush. Branches and briars get caught on your skirt and tear at your skin as you push through to get to him. Your brother is shouting and grunting in pain when you see him, tears dotting his eyes as he stares down at the sight of his ankle caught firmly between the teeth of a bear trap.

    “Stupid trap!” He cries out, his hands shaking from adrenaline. You don’t know what to do, standing frozen at the bloody sight before you, mind going back and forth between whether or not you should go to your brother or run home to get your parents.

     “Help me get it off!” Andrew shouts, and it’s enough to finally bring you back to the situation. You can only nod frantically as you kneel by his side. Hands shaking as you help your brother try and open the trap and get it off of him. The metal digs into your fingers as you try to pry it open, your brother grunting and crying with the effort to do so. You can only think of what your parents will say, what Andrew will do. What if it got infected? What if he lost his foot completely? You realize you’re crying as you and Andrew try with all your might to pull the trap open, grip beginning to slip on the contraption right as Andrew tugs his leg out of the trap. It snaps closed violently after, barely missing both of your fingertips as Andrew rolls away from it.

    “What- What do we do? Andy?” You ask, unable to do much but stare as your brother writes in pain. It’s all happening so fast, but god did everything feel so slow. Andrew manages to make out something about stopping the bleeding, and you’re right on it as you press your small hands to the bloody, mangled, flesh. You squeeze tightly as you pray and pray and pray for him to stop bleeding, shutting your eyes tightly as you sob and cry and wish you could do something, anything more to help your big brother.

    There’s a buzzy feeling in your hands, like pins and needles without the pain. You don’t see it happening as you sit there and bawl for your brother, his warm blood on your hands all you can manage to feel in the moment. The blood begins to slow, and slow, and you don't even realize it has stopped until everything seems to be just as quiet as before. You realize that Andrew isn’t crying anymore, and find yourself brave enough to cautiously open your eyes.

    To your surprise, you don’t see anything. 

    All there is is Andrew’s blood staining his ripped pants and both of your hands- but the strangest part of all was that there was no more wound. Not even a bruise remained of the bone-deep cuts that had been there just a moment before. Your tears begin to dry up as your eyebrows furrow, still hiccuping as you look on at the scene in confusion. When you look up at your brother, he’s wide-eyed. Staring at you in complete shock.

    “Was that you that did that?”  He asks. You don’t know what to say. You don't know. You begin to notice a soreness in your leg as the two of you sit there, simply staring at each other in shock. Eventually, Andrew swallows, before he tries to stand up, doing so effortlessly and without pain. He stretches and flexes his leg, moving it back and forth like his brain is still playing catch up. You try to follow his lead, only to cry out in pain and stumble. There's a deep purple bruise circling your leg when you raise your skirt, one that perfectly mimicked the bloody hole in Andrew’s pants where his own wound once had been.

    He carried you back home that day.

    The Great War began on July 28th, 1914. The archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated, thus causing a series of events that spiraled into the worst war that the world had ever seen until that point. Your brother was quickly whisked away into the battle once the fight had started. He quickly advanced through the ranks, his ever-present charm and intelligence being a boon to him, and an asset to many others. He had always been the fighter. Your bother Andrew, your protector, and keeper of your secrets, now a general in the Canadian army. You could hardly believe it. 

    You, on the other hand, had begun to educate yourself at your brother’s behest. You became a nurse, finding yourself drawn to the field in the absence of the many men who had left mainland hospitals to go to war. You loved it. You loved helping people heal and survive, thrive even, but even so, you had become rather secretive about your natural gifts. Andrew, as supportive as he was, knew that the world would never accept powers like yours. As guilty as you felt every time a patient had slipped through the doctor’s fingers, you knew better. Your healing abilities took from you a fraction of what it gave to others, and using it was just not possible in large doses. You knew that and knew to listen to your brother’s warnings. Still, it did not stop you completely. Healing a wound or broken bone now and then in the shadows, where there was no one there to see. Miracles became your specialty, but your medical knowledge had become your backbone.

    At the end of April, you were surprised to receive a letter from your brother, the contents of it being a plea for you to join him in the war efforts. They needed nurses, trained, knowledgeable, nurses. You would be by his side as much as possible, but you were needed across the sea. And well, if it was your brother asking, who were you to refuse?

Novemver 2nd, 1917

    "You are to keep your medical supplies cleanly and well maintained. I understand that you aren't exactly green in this line of work, but let me tell you, you haven't seen war yet." The senior nurse in front of you has no time for fools, you have only known her for a moment, and yet you know this for a fact. Her pace is fast and purposeful. Her skirt is muddied and stained, and yet her boots do not seem to sink or stick in the mud like yours do as you try your best to keep up with her. Nurse Mary is strict in personality and pace, and you're careful to follow directly behind her throughout the busy encampment. 

Everyone seems to have something urgent to attend to, soldiers and nurses and medics alike all running about through the mud and dirt. There are many hospital tents, many more than you had originally anticipated. You begin to realize exactly why your brother had been so firm in instructing you to refrain from assisting any wounded beyond what help lies within sutures and gauze. 

    “How often do the wounded arrive?” You ask, following her into a rather large hospital tent and passing by various cots with wounded men.

    “You should expect them to arrive every day. The wounded are many, but the dead are more, god rest their souls.”  She tells you, one of her hands clutching the cross around her neck for a moment. There are many things you have learned throughout your schooling, and many gruesome sights you know to expect, but the one thing that still gave you chills was the death toll. You try not to think about it too hard, knowing that it’s just the truth of war that good men go to die. But that doesn’t mean you will ever be forced to be comfortable with it. You pass many rows of wounded soldiers as you follow her through, many being gravely injured with missing and mangled limbs, and shrapnel in places where it should never be. You keep your bedside manner in check, but you know half of those men won’t make it through the night.

    “We should be grateful for the men who return to our care, but please keep in mind that we are the only buffer between them and god. You must understand that losing these men isn’t an if, it’s a when.” You nod solemnly in response to her, quelling the anxiety in your heart. You knew very well that she was right. You casually look around the hospital tent, doing your best to help familiarise yourself with the surroundings when a puff of smoke catches your eye.

    You don’t know where to laugh or scold the man, brown eyes meeting your own as he quickly tries to hide the cigar. Nurse Mary clearly had not seen him, but you certainly did. You can’t help but smile in a baffled sort of way, and the soldier- the quite handsome soldier- smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you. You try not to laugh, choosing to simply shake your head instead of pointing it out to Nurse Mary. It’s something he clearly appreciates, and he tips his head at you, winking as you finally pass him by. You hope you’re not blushing, quickly looking away from him with a smile on your face that you couldn’t fight off.

    “Are you paying attention, Miss? Your brother spoke very highly of your skills, it would be a shame if it were all to be lies.” The nurse ahead of you says, a strict tone in her voice. It almost startles you, bringing you back to earth after the solid minute of distraction the brown-eyed soldier had caused. 

    “I- yes. I apologize. Please, continue.” You reply quickly. You can tell she’s not quite convinced but doesn’t have the time to care, reminding you that there would be little to no time to dally once you had been given decent instruction about the facilities. You’re eager to get to work, and decide that there would be no more distractions today- no matter how charming or handsome they seem to be.

—-

    You were assigned work the moment your walkthrough had been conducted. No downtime, no breaks. You wonder if you truly had any idea how bad things would be where you got here. Seeing the wounded was one thing, but reading their chart was another. You felt detached as you conducted physicals, changed bandages, and redressed wounds and cuts. You checked for infections in those with amputated limbs, knowing that death would soon come for those who were so unfortunate. The difference between any of the men was astounding- wounds from this war unlike any that you had ever seen before. You had heard of the new weapons, the horrors that geniuses had developed so that others would die. It pains you that someone could be so ignorant and cruel- and yet even you hope that you would never have to face those instruments of war.

   Out of all the strange and unusual wounds and war-torn soldiers you met on that day, there was only one who you remembered in truly remarkable detail.

    You see the puff of smoke before you see him, lounging on the backboard of his hospital cot without a care in the world. Besides some old bandages on his chest, you can tell that he’s not in any pain. To be honest, you start to wonder if he belongs in this infirmary at all. He’s distracted, cigar held up to his lips as he takes a deep inhale of the smoke, drowning out his senses with the nicotine. 

    “You must be feeling pretty confident to be breaking the only rule we have in here.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him. He chokes on the smoke rather suddenly, trying to recover as quickly as he can as he puts the cigar out. You give him a sweet smile, trying your best not to laugh. He smiles sort of unabashedly at you, shrugging. 

    “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.” He coughs. You shake your head at him, lifting some papers on your clipboard before you find the one assigned to his cot. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his list of past injuries and causes of infirmary visits. How is this man even alive?

    “Logan Howlett, I presume? You’re pretty perky for a man who has such a long list of injuries.” You state, still reading it through. You’ve never seen this many on one chart before- all dating from the very start of the war to his current visit. Logan gives you a shrug of his shoulders, which isn’t exactly a response you would prefer, but he smiles at you in a charming sort of way that makes your heart flutter. 

    “They call me Lucky Logan for a reason,” Logan hums- causing you to huff a laugh. You shake your head at him, setting the clipboard down on the edge of the bed before you begin conducting a physical and checking on his “wounds.”- not that there really was any besides an odd, yellowed bruise or two that you could almost swear seemed to be lightening by the minute.

    “ ‘You new here?” You glance up at him at the sound of his voice, smiling a bit out of politeness.

   “Why, Is it that easy to tell?” You ask, knowing that he certainly knew so due to him seeing you earlier, but you wonder for a moment if you seemed to be any different from the other nurses. You always strived to be good at what you do, but part of you had a tendency to worry if you could keep up with the others here.

    “Nah,” He says, bluntly. “I just think I’d remember if I had seen a pretty nurse like you before.”  The words make you gape for a moment, that smile still showing as you shake your head at him and try not to laugh. He was a flirt- a rather smooth one too. 

    “Do you use that line on all the ladies?” You tease as you pull out your stethoscope to listen to his heart. You listen, and besides the fact that his heart rate is a little faster than the regular average, you don’t seem to notice anything too strange.

    “Only the ones as pretty as you.” He says. You don’t hold back your laugh at that, and his genuine smile is definitely contagious. You check his eyesight and overall mobility one more time once you’re done, trying not to blush at the way he’s looking at you. You feel his gaze even when you step away to write on his chart, finishing things up.

    “Well, Mr. Howlett, you seem to have a perfect bill of health,” Logan perks up a bit at that, moving to where he can sit on the side of the cot, his feet on the ground. “...but I can’t completely release you just yet. You’re free to wander around some, but you’ll have to wait for the doc to give you one last look-over before you can go back to the frontlines.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, frowning for only a minute before he stands, winking at you as he grabs his shirt from underneath the cot- the bloodied one they wheeled him in here with, no doubt, and puts it on.

    “If that means I’ll be seeing you more often, I’ll take it.” He flirts. You laugh, knowing that you very well might have swooned if you had been any greener to this line of work. Instead, all you can really do is cringe at the sight of his shirt and lean down to the small table to his right, the one where his chart had been, and open the drawer, revealing a freshly clean set of clothes. 

    “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Smokey.” You joke, finding his surprised face rather endearing. It only takes a moment before he’s smirking again, taking the clothes from you and doing a mock toast to you with the cloth. You shake your head at him, trying to keep your smile contained as you walk away from him and over to your next patient.

    You find yourself thinking about him throughout the day, both delighted and somewhat frustrated at yourself for swooning so easily over a soldier- on your first day, too. You had told yourself when you took this job that you would never do such a thing, knowing that so many romances in a time like this end in tragedy- but you certainly couldn’t seem to help it. You think about him when the other nurses talk about their personal soldiers, out there fighting the war, and think about him again before you go to bed. It was frustrating! You met a man and knew him a whole ten minutes before swooning like a schoolgirl. You suppose it felt nice to be wanted nonetheless and felt nice to be complemented by someone you found so handsome… But you didn’t need to be thinking so hard about this right now anyway. You roll over onto your side in your bed, hoping to fall asleep soon instead of spending time thinking about something that won’t happen.

    Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell that your brother would ever approve of any relationship you had with a soldier. You were sure that if he had his way, you would die as a spinster- forever reliant on the family. Your dreams that night are more like nightmares, dreaming of faces and growing old and rocking in a chair alone in your brother’s house, a burden to his finances, his wife, and children. But then there are some dreams where you see the face of one particular soldier, and wonder why you felt so compelled by him.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 10

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 9, Part 11

This chapter has sensitive topics! This time it's less on the religious side and more on the general awful shit that happens. It's specifically about a child (and adults) so you are warned!

Sunlight streams through the flap in the tent waking you up. Crawling out of the tent a gift laid in front sparkling for your attention.

A rough and raw cut Cor Lapis innocently sat where the hatchling used to be. Fingertips gently caressed the object before you stashed it away. Another item to be sold if you came upon hard times.

After packing up everything and eating a light breakfast you began the trek to Liyue. Activating and using that teleport waypoint would be so much easier but the suspicion you would get from it was just not worth it.

Farmers, hikers, and the occasional adventurer passed by as you hiked and eventually got to the Guild. Katheryne spots you and smiles.

"Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. Ready to start your first set of commissions Y/N?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You mutter as you take the paper from her hands. Moving to the side, more adventurers are welcomed and assigned commissions. Fingers crossed for easy commissions, you scanned the list and the corresponding map.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Full Speed Ahead - The path is needed for a transportation vehicle moving people. Make sure the path is clear within the time limit. Defeating enemies may be necessary.

Increasing Danger - Hilichurls are building towers in the circled area. Destroy these towers for the safety of the people.

That last one would be hard, you weren't comfortable at the thought of hurting the cursed people of Khaenri'ah as well as the other civilizations that Celestia bombed. Your characters were always strong enough to destroy the towers and leave but you aren't.

Perhaps you can lure them to a different area and destroy the towers once they were distracted? Do they count as creatures of Teyvat that could recognize you as the creator? Or is the corruption from Celestia too strong?

Spreading Evil - A abyssal mage is scheming something in the square area. Defeat it and it's hilichurl allies by preventing the completion of the ritual.

Nevermind, this one takes the cake on what you did not want to do. What will you do if the abyssal mage is electro? You're basically useless! Well, maybe not since you can light up a torch and burn it till the shield breaks but still. Your divine aura may be prominent to them and cause them to report back to the Abyssal Prince. You weren't eager to ever meet him.

You go back to Katheryne and show her the commission list.

"Just a question, is the abyssal mage in this a electro one?"

Katheryne opens a separate book and scans it for a second before nodding. "That's correct, it was reported to be a electro abyss mage with four hilichurl allies."

"I'm afraid I can't accept this commission. I can only control electro and the shield can't be broken by simply waiting for it to rain like I can with pyro mages."

Katheryne nods at your words and flips through the book as she speaks. "Understood, the only commissions left at this time are either in a rank above you or too far away. You can wait here or check back in a few days to see if we receive any more commissions."

Would it be worth it to try convincing her that as you have no rank, you can do any commissions? Probably not, arguing with a robot never goes well. Sighing you're about to move away when a man nearly bulldozes you as he tries to get to the counter.

"Please help me! I'll pay whatever I have to if a adventurer can accept my commission!"

Moving to stand at the side you look up at the man and narrow your eyes trying to figure out where you've seen him before. Katheryne takes the panicked state of the man in stride and asks what commission he is trying to request.

"My daughter Yiran was being babysat by a new nanny due to my regular one getting sick, and she was kidnapped! Treasure hoarders stormed the dock area, and the babysitter hid leaving Yiran in the open. I was working at the Blackcliff Forge when the Millelith approached me and told me what happened. The only thing that was retrieved was this."

In his hands is a child sized dirty dark teal shoe. You're only relieved that it isn't bloody. This man is the one who stands near the toy seller with his daughter. Manager Kuan if you remember correctly.

"Please, I'll pay whatever I have to for someone to accept my commission and find my daughter. The Millelith refuse to put more attention on my case due to the increase of monsters. But the more time passes the farther away Yiran gets."

Kuan speaks with urgency as Katheryne shakes her head sadly.

"I'm afraid we don't accept commissions like these. While the guild may rarely accept a lost pet commission, they are usually never completed. To protect our reputation the guild does not accept commissions that we aren't sure can be completed. Only if a adventurer or team personally accept it can we accept it."

This seems to break Kuan even further. Tears of frustration well up in his eyes making him rub them roughly pushing up his glasses. His grief and discouragement is visible on his face as he continues trying to convince Katheryne.

The wind rushing in your ears don't let you hear or make out his next words. The wrinkles in his face seem to deepen and his black hair turns grey. The once short fine hair grows into a shaggy mattered mess of silver. Facial hair grows and tangles together as his clothes are torn into ruin. The once middle-class looking outfit is covered in patches, holes, dirt, and dried blood. It's him.

Dad.

"I'll accept the commission." Your words come out quiet, but he hears them. Turning to you, you see your adoptive father's face flash for a second before it melts away to Kuan's face. The illusion is broken as your father's image is gone with Kuan shakily smiling at you.

"Really? Name your price, I'll pay whatever I have to, to find Yiran."

Closing your eyes in a look of contemplation hides the tears that threatened to build up.

"Let me make it clear. I cannot promise to find Yiran and I will not accept any money unless I manage to find her or her body. I will try my hardest to find her but if after a week, I cannot find her I will have to leave this commission undone. Mostly because she could be in another nation by that point and it would be impossible to find her then."

"I understand, I just want you to try while there is still a chance." Kuan speaks to you with a sad smile. It's uncomfortably too similar to your dad.

Katheryne begins to walk Kuan through the process of drafting a commission and Lan places a hand on your shoulder. The rugged sigh that leaves her as she speaks hint to what she wants to speak to you about.

"Y/N was it? Come and speak with me for a second." Silently you follow her around the building, a safe distance from Kuan.

"You may have talked big game while the funeral director was here but you're a beginner adventurer. Do you understand what kind of commission you just accepted? If you somehow manage to find Yiran, it won't be a little girl. It'll be a gruesome corpse."

"At least that way I can bring something back to bury. Something to remember his daughter by." You say with a sense of longing. Memories of you sobbing over the lack of items to remember your father by rise to the surface.

"Even still, you should have left this to the Millelith. It may be hard not to accept it but you'll regret it when you cannot find anything and come back empty handed. You gave him hope when it's better to just give up-"

Firmly you place your hands on her shoulders. Your grip turns bruising as you force her body closer to yours. Lan's brown bob brushes against your face as you whisper in her ears.

"How hypocritical of you Lan. Don't you realize? You take on any commission containing the word 'sword', no matter the difficulty, to give your brother a proper funeral. That man, that father, is willing to put up with the emotional pain of hope to make the best of his chance at finding his daughter before it really is too late. And I will do what I want, for who I want, for anyone that reminds me of my own motivation. If I have to come back to him and hand him his daughter beaten, bruised, bloody body, then I will."

You push yourself away from Lan as she steps back with fear in her eyes. Her expression changes into a mixture of fright and wariness. There's no doubt that she's wondering how you knew about her mission about her brother. And despite the consequences that can come from this, you can't be bothered to care.

Kuan was not your father but he reminded you so much of him. Your dad that took you in and cared for you how no one else ever bothered to. If helping Kuan gives you the same feeling as when you would help your dad, then you'll gladly do it.

Turning back you turn the corner and Kuan is already smiling tiredly at you. The ache in your heart grows as the swell of happiness refuses to stop.

"Again, thank you so much for accepting. The commission I filled out has all the information I got from the Millelith, it's very little I'm afraid. They are taking this very lightly." There's a bite to his words this time.

"It's okay, I'll make do with the information you gave in. I should get going now to make the most of the time. You can expect to hear from me by the end of the week."

Taking the commission from Katheryne titled 'Missing Treasure' Kuan gives a wave as you begin walking to the city's main entrance. Not wasting time, you start flipping the pages and skimming the pages.

Yiran, a few children, teens, and two adults were taken around the same time. The adults were homeless while the children and teens were either poor or orphans. It seems the treasure hoarders did their homework on their victims.

Kidnapping these vulnerable minorities is a commen tatic in human trafficking. Orphans have no one that would look for them and the government could care less about the homeless. Liyue is such a bustling and thriving market that these kinds of people are pushed out and ignored.

You've lived through that on Earth, you intentionally avoided the rich areas due to this reason. Living here as a homeless orphan would be even worse. People look past you like you don't exist while those that do acknowledge your existence tend to behave violently. The government doesn't fix the problem due the fear of homelessness fueling people to work even when it's not good for them.

Yiran was probably a mistake. Either they were targeting the babysitter, mistoke her for a different victim, or saw her as a lucky grab. If Yiran wasn't kidnapped, the Milelith would have done even less. You shouldn't have expected Liyue to be any better than other rich cities on Earth.

The walk past the glamorous streets feels almost taunting. The guards that doze off and leisurely chat make your blood boil. Scolding them now would do no one any good. It would only eat up the time you need to find Yiran's body. Your thoughts were better off solving this case.

Making a detour you go to the scene of the crime, the docks. It's damp, with little security and it's mostly children and the poor. Makes sense as the main docks are simalir to a tourist area, no one wants trash around.

The majority of the ships are gone meaning no sailors are around. The timing was perfect. For once the treasure hoarders pulled off a good plan. Did the traveler only meet the stupid bunch or were the smart hoarders avoid the traveler intentionally?

Either way you followed the rough path the hoarders took until they left the city entrance. A cart must have been driven due to the amount of people to carry and restrain is too much for a group. This helps you narrow it down that they had to follow the path shown on the map. Liyue's terrarin is filled with mountains and rocks that make it nearly impossible to go off track.

You cross the wooden bridge, pass the small pond, climb the stairs and begin trekking through the path. There's a teleport waypoint that makes you sigh in relief. You really didn't want to have to walk the whole way back, plus it's a quiet enough area that you don't have to worry about witnesses.

Climbing up the boulder, you touch the waypoint and begin climbing back down. You weren't eager to use your wind glider just yet. The hike is pleasant but you keep your eyes peeled for anything that can serve as a clue.

Eventually, you get to a small village-like area, it's nearly abandoned judging by the lack of, well, anyone. You do freeze at the sight of Morax's Statue of the Seven.

The only question that runs through your mind is should you touch it?

On one hand you would get the geo element and just more power in general. On the other hand that would basically summon Zhongli to your area and you weren't ready for round 2 with a Archon.

The conclusion you arrive at is that you'll wait till you're injuried to touch it. At least that way you can test if you're able to be healed by it.

Making sure to keep a safe distance from the statue to avoid triggering it, you're about to continue your journey when you notice something. A book on a flat rock with the title 'Tracking and Hunting - a guide for the new and experienced'.

Was this not the book you were trying to find yesterday? What luck, you could use this to track the treasure hoarders with more effiency! Grabbing it you flip to the first page but are startled by a yell.

"Hey! Apologies for the intrusion but that book is mine for the time being."

Xingqiu and Chongyun run up to you as you hold the book to your chest. The pale blue exorcist is too busy calming himself down from the jog to pay much attention to Xingqiu reaching for the book with a polite smile.

How fake.

"Is it really? I simply saw this book laying on this rock, all abandoned. If you can't respect a book then you definitely shouldn't have checked it out."

Xingqiu grits his teeth and his polite smile strains in his effort to keep his annoyance in check. "Thank you for the advise, I'll be sure to keep better track of my belongings."

It seems Xingqiu is putting up his act due to his reputation as the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You need him to break character so that you can recruit him to help you find Yiran. He's all about justice and chivalry after all.

"I'll be happy to return this book if you- wait what the hell is that?" Your tone goes from mocking to confusion as Xingqiu steps closer letting you view him. The change in your tone brings Xingqiu and Chongyuns attention to you.

You stare at Xingqiu's hair with increadibility that slowly morphs into laughter. Your laughter grows as Xingqiu inquires what you're laughing so hard about.

"What the hell is that haircut? It's more uneven than mountains, with more layers than an onion with some strands poking up like a porcupine. If you paid someone for this haircut then get your money back!"

You hold the book to your stomach as you double over in hysterics. Chongyun keeps a palm over his mouth as he struggles to contain his chuckles. Xingqiu's calm facade seems to crack with each ring of your laughter and your next words seem to break him.

"I don't know how much self-confidence you have to have, to go around with that hair, but I need some! Oh god, what are those bangs?!"

Chongyun turns away as he trembles with laughter that slips through his fingers. Xingqiu crosses his arms in annoyance as he begins his own tirade.

"What kind of person are you? Who begins to mock the person they are basically stealing from? Do you have no chivalry?! What gives you the confidence to give someone else shit for their style when you can't even choose one?! A Liyue style glider with Inazuma style clothing is terrible combination, only able to be worn by a simpleton like you!"

He pants harshly while pointing at you as the laughter dies down. Chongyun looks at his friend in some shock and seems to struggle in whether to intervine or not. You stand up with a smug grin and lean closer to the Guhua swordsman.

"Still not as bad as the bowlcut you're sporting."

Xingqiu groans loudly at your words and lays his palm open. "Let's just stop this stupid conversation. Return my book now."

"Like I said, I need it so either help me out or let me keep it."

"Return my book or else." Xingqiu's hands clench tightly and Chongyun places a hand on his shoulder. He ignores it.

"I'm not returning it unless you make a choice between the options I presented."

A sacrifical sword is quickly pointed at your neck as Xingqiu stares at you.

"Give it back or you'll know my sword." The familair line makes you smile happily as you place the book on his outstretched hand. "Sure!"

"It's just a shame that I'll have less resources to track down those treasure hoarders. I hope I can find them in time..." You speak outloud as you pass them making Chongyun glance back at you. Xingqiu is still gripping his sword without looking at you.

"Wait, please! Can you explain why you are tracking down the treasure hoarders?" Chongyun finally takes the initiative and calls out to you.

Smiling pleasantly you turn to Chongyun and speak while being well aware of Xingqiu resisting the urge to look at you.

"I'd be happy to. Last night treasure hoarders swept through the lower level docks in Liyue and kidnapped some people. That includes my commissioners daughter, Yiran. The cart they are driving must be following this path but I know it'll split at some point. That's why I wanted the book to help me track the hoarders down."

Chongyun's face returns to his usual frosty look. "I understand why you were in such dire need of the book. I would like to help you. My name is Chongyun and I'm a exorcist. I track down ghosts and evil spirits so perhaps my experience can help you."

"That would be a great, thank you so much! I'm Y/N and feel free to speak comfortably."

One acolyte joined, now you only need the other. But if Xingqiu is being too stubborn to help you then you're better off leaving him-

Your train of thought is cut off by the book being thrusted into your arms as Xingqiu walks toward the stairs leading further down the path. You and Chongyun send Xinqui a confused look at his sudden actions.

"What are you two doing gawking at me like that? We're wasting time standing around like this."

A huff of laughter leaves you at his words and you motion Chongyun to follow along as you begin to follow Xingqiu.

"Nice to see that his highness is willing to set aside time in his busy reading schedule to help out with this case."

"I'm a purser of chivalry and justice first and foremost. It seems you do know that I'm related to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You've got guts to treat me in such a unabashed manner."

"What's the Feiyun Commerce Guild? Some small family business? You didn't really expect me to recognize you immediately right? I mean I'm just a traveler who recently arrived."

Xingqiu seems a bit embarrassed at how he psyched himself into revealing himself. The mockingly kind tone you use only enhances it.

"Can you two please stop arguing? The treasure hoarders will hear you both and run away before either of realize at this point."

Chongyun's calm demeanor and words remind you of your original mission. Now that you recruited the useful acolytes, it's best you don't get too distracted.

"Chongyun is right, why don't you tell me your name bowlcut?"

"My name is Xingqiu and I'm the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A great displeasure to meet you Y/N." He scowls as he speaks but there's no real bite to his words.

"Nice to meet you too bowlcut. While I read the important sections on your book, why don't I hand you the notes from the original comission? Are you intrested in reading it too Chongyun?"

"No, my main focus is on exorcisim. I'll just keep watch of you both while you read and walk."

Nodding you hand the notes to the curious Xingqiu and search through the book as Chongyun guides you both down the staircase. The treasure hoarders must have lost time going down this steep staircase without crashing the cart.

Finishing it rather quickly due to your previous knowledge on the subject, you spot two Milileth guards on the right. They might have seen something suspicious! Tapping Chongyun's shoulder you point at the soldiers.

"Let's ask them if they saw anything, a cart being driven must have caught some attention."

He nods and stops Xingqiu from walking off, Xingqiu only waves you both away as he stands in place. Being careful not to touch and trigger Chongyuns yang enegry you walk with him to the guards.

"Hello, we were wondering if you saw any carts passing by from the Harbor. If there was too many then were there any that looked particularly suspicious?"

Only one guard answers you as the second is too busy relaxing at the table. "We do a routine inspection on everyone that passes through. If any of them were suspicous we would have escorted them to the city."

"So who was watching over whenever you escorted a suspicous person/group back to the city?" You ask in slight disbelief.

The guard goes quiet as if contemplating on what to say... You aren't sure whether to laugh or sigh. The second guard is dragged over by the first guard.

"Oh are you both here for a face reading? The blue one has some striking eyes which indicates a strong spirit but the other one is a bit harder. That mask makes it difficult but I can tell that you have a, what's the nice way to say it? A rather plain but ordinary face, you can think of it as good thing if you think about how easy it is to change it to something more interesting."

Your expression drops in unison with Chongyuns at his words. You had a feeling Liyue's guards weren't the best but this was even more pathetic than you thought. It's clear this guy was slacking off during his whole shift.

"We don't want a face reading so don't expect us to pay for your crappy words. We just wanted to know if you saw any suspicous carts passing by."

"Oh well I kind of left for some tea at the Emerald Maple Inn on the left. A older lady passed by me and stayed by the roadside during that time so I suppose you're better off asking her."

Chongyun presses a palm to his face at the second-hand embarrassment. The only thing that's stopping you from slugging this incompetent soldier is Yiran and the fact it's a nice sunny day.

"Thanks for the doing less then the bare minimum. We'll be on our way now." You say in a polite voice and push Chongyun back to Xinqui while ignoring the offended man.

"That was so embarrassing. A traveler like you who is new to Liyue should not have had to see such a... lazy soldier." He puts the truth very kindly before holding a hand to his head as he steadies his breathing.

You get back to Xingqiu and explain what happened. He managed to look even more disappointed than Chongyun and the three of you climb the left hill to the Inn. Xingqiu had already finished reading and you swapped the reading material to their original owners.

Tables are set up outside the Inn and one of them has a elderly lady drinking tea at one of them. Walking up to her, you smile kindly as the guys hang back to question the owner of the Inn.

"Hello ma'am, around last night or early this morning, did you go down by the road? If so did you notice a strange cart passing by?"

"In fact I did, I told one of the guards when he came back but he didn't take it very seriously... Well a few people were driving a cart loudly talking about meeting a group at the fork in Guili Plains. I'm afraid that's all I know."

...Was the book even necessary now? What kind of cliche convient villain move is speaking about your evil plans out-loud? There goes all the compliments you gave them for making smart choices. But they did choose the one time when no guards were present. Does that cancel out their stupidity or show just how lucky they are?

"Thank you so much for the information. I'll get going now and use it wisely." The old woman nods at your polite dismissal and rejoin the disastified duo who brighten up at the information you obtained. Until a young boy comes out from the Inn asking.

"Is that the cough adventurer with the medicine? cough"

That sounded familiar, too familiar to be a coincidence. The old woman attends to the boy's coughing fit as you look through your handbook.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Yup, the area where the comission takes place is your exact location. This was your commission to deal with.

Turning back to Xingqiu and Chongyun who are patiently waiting for you, you explain the situation. They agree to seperate from you and continue the path to Guili Plains while you finish the commission. Promising to catch up with them soon you wave and Xingqiu shoots you one last remark.

"Oh and be careful when climbing! Geovishap hatchlings have a tendency to push off unlucky climbers!"

...He was joking right?

With a mental note to get him back for that, you turn back to the old woman and show her the commission paper.

"Hello again, before I leave to continue my journey I would like to get that pesky qingxin for you first."

She smiles relieved and brings you near the back of the Inn. Pointing upward to a mountain that was more of a rocky hill, she tells you of a qingxin that grows there.

After she leaves to prepare the rest of medicine, you begin climbing. Your climbing skills are rusty so you slide down at the worst times but you manage to pick up on your old skills relatively quickly.

So focused on climbing, the wind brushing against your cheek goes unnoticed until a leaf hits you. Moving it away leads you to looking at the gorgous scenary of Liyue.

The clear water of Luhua Pool. The mountains dotted with trees and grass. And even the areas with ruins make for a picturesque view. In the distance you can see the Wangshu Inn. You really hope Xiao never catches wind of you or else you'll constantly be monitored.

Finally arriving at the top, you sit down and rest your body. You aren't aching but you weren't about to pick the flower and jump off. Planning was still needed to avoid a broken bone.

Should you use the wind glider or speed climb down this hunk of rock?

The wind seems to pick up as the pebbles are thrown off the rock you're on. That was not a good sign for a beginner like you. Seems speed climbing it is!

Mapping out a route that would have you alternating between sliding and climbing you double checked it before standing up. The moment you pick the qingxin from it's place that you remember that the time limit for this comission is 30 seconds unless you defeat an enemy.

Scrambling you hurry down while mentally counting down the seconds. That's probably why you didn't notice the geo slime that you kicked off the mountain in your rush.

It's only after handing the qingxin just in time to the old woman that you notice how squishy your boot is.

You end up leaving back to the path with a bag of rewards from completing the commission and some slime concentrate in your bag. There's a clear crunch of the leaves as you walk the path quickly in hopes of catching up to the duo.

You pass by the wilderness and animals as you keep jogging. There's a small stone bridge and you spot the different shades of blue hair moving rather quickly. Getting closer you see the new third indivual.

A black figure with glowing red undertones dives between the sword and claymore clashing against the sacrifical knife. The pyro delusions and maroon mask makes it clear that the fatui agent isn't going to relent easily.

Summoning your sickle, you run into the fray as the agent dissapears leaving a red silloutte behind.

"I didn't arrive too late right?" Xingqiu blocks a strike and Chongyun uses his skill to apply cryo to the area.

"Right on time actually. Quite suprising for someone like you." Superconduct heightens your damage as your sickle slices the agent's arm with electro.

"Ha ha. On the other hand when is your other earing arriving? I believe it's long overdue." Xingqiu's raincutter is summoned making reactions fly around.

Frozen, superconduct, electro-charged, and some shatters keep the agent from barely moving.

"For the last time, will you both stop fighting and focus fully on the fight?" Chongyun's cold clear voice seems to momentarily redirect your attention to the fight. It's only now that you can actually look at the state of the Fatui agent.

A mask half frozen with chunks of it biting into his skin, the blood stains the ice red and the eye's flicker. His arm and legs seem to jerk at random times, most likely from the electro-charged reaction still running in his system. With multiple slash marks and grave wounds that breeched his suit into his skin. It's the hand barely hanging to his wrist that bleeds the most.

This was less of a fight and more of one sided beat down. Compared to when you and Heizou fought those Fatui skirmishers this was a breeze. Made sense but it still felt nice to see some progress in your own strength.

The bone is visble as the blood continues to spurt out of the wound as the agent staggers. None of you move as he sways before falling backword onto a huge chunk of leftover ice. It stabs his stomach letting you see the now pink tip of the ice that went through him.

The force also wretched the hand off his wrist making it land with a sickening splat. Lucky as always, it lands at your feet. Blood drips down from your sickle onto the decapitated hand making you sheathe it back into nothingness.

Looking back to the freeze team, their clothes have much more blood but they ignore it and walk past the body. With them as your guidance, you follow them and grip the agent's sacrificial knife in your hand before quickly stuffing it into your bag.

"So how did that fight even begin? I never saw any mention of the Fatui being involved with the kidnapping."

The way you easily move on to a conversation is comical. You had just committed a joint murder with a duo that you met a mere hour ago and yet you don't feel distraught. Not like the first time you killed in Teyvat. It seems you're starting to adapt to Teyvat's laws. Would you ever fully adapt to it's religious beliefs about the 'creator'?

"The agent jumped at us yelling something about paying back a debt due. But judging how suprised he was when he saw us, he must have believed we were someone else." Chongyun explains thoughtfully.

Xingqiu presses a hand over his mouth seeming to ponder something.

"Do you think the Fatui agent met with the treasure hoarders at the fork? Since the hoarders cart were the only suspicious people going through, it would make sense that they would be meeting the Fatui."

"Then if you're right, something must have gone wrong at the meetup. Damn I wish he didn't die, we could have questioned him."

Depending on the meetup, chasing after the treasure hoarders would be useless if they gave Yurin and the rest of the captives to the Fatui.

"We would have gone easier on the agent if we knew you could control electro. I don't see any vision on you so how do you control the elements? Are you similair to a cartain golden haired traveler?"

"Let's just say it's an ability I gained after an upgrade. It's not a delusion though so forget that kind of possibility."

Xingqiu shoots you a skeptical look at the nonchalant way you dismissed his questions. Chongyun, ever as guilable nods in understanding before asking his own question.

"Did that upgrade also give you your perfect spirit?"

Being careful not to trip on a abandoned wagon, you glance questionably at Chongyun.

"I have no idea what that means. I've heard of yin and yang energies but I'm not well versed in it."

He places a finger to his chin as he struggles to explain the concept to you.

"A perfect spirit is something of a legend. Everyone has a mix of yang and yin that can changes depending on the day, mood, constiution and other factors. I'm one of the few that has a pure yang spirit that I struggle everyday to control. But your spirit is perfectly balanced and even during the fight it didn't waver. It's not just perfect, it's also similair to a void. It feeds on the surrounding energies and stabilizes them. Usually I would spend half an hour after a battle to calm down but with you here I had no need to."

Was that a perk of being the creator? If so that can be pretty neat but on the other hand it also makes you terribly shady. Under a better circumstance you could use it as proof of you being the creator. It really is a shame.

"When I studied the books in my families library, it said that only the creator could have such a spirit..." Of course you had to be right.

The red scrapes that you earned from the fight seemed to grab the attention of both vision holders. To them, it's proof that you aren't the creator and to you, it's proof that no matter what kind of evidence you gather, your blood will always disprove it.

"All those little things about you don't seem to be adding up Y/N. The electro, the vague backstory, the strange aura that surronds you, the so-called perfect spirit and that mask aren't making you any less questionable."

Xingqiu's voice slips through the cracks created by Chongyun in your identity. The crushing of dirt stops as Chongyun and Xingqiu block your way.

"The creator is not one to be messed with or imitated. Evil spirits and demons are the only ones filthy enough to do so. There's a large chance you've been possessed by one. Allow us to purge you, I can promise that in death you'll be freed."

His prototype archaic claymore is summoned in his hands, he always had a one track mind when it came to exorcisim after all. Xingqiu stays behind but the sacrifial sword in his hands is clearly visible.

The day had been going so well too.

"I think you both are getting ahead of yourselves." The smooth words only make them freeze and glare at you.

"I mean neither of you even gave me a chance to speak! Chongyun do you really belive that the creator is only desecrated by evil spirits and demons? I mean just think of Xinyan's concerts, many of those people were just simply terrible."

His grip on his weapon is firm but he nods his head solemly.

"I'm well aware of that but I earnestly believe that you're possessed. Someone like you who accepted a comission to save a little girl isn't one who I would suspect to be a sacrilegious person."

"And even if you are simply a horrible person that finds enjoyment in mocking the creator in this fashion, I could deal with you instead." Xingqiu leers closer as he expertly twirls his sword.

"Defending chivalry and spreading justice is my passion after all." The kind smile on his face mocks you.

Taking out your weapon would only agrivate the situation and confirm their belief. Instead you bow to them and speak curteously.

"As the situation has degraded this badly, I may as well reintroduce myself truthfully. I'm Y/N, an oracle for the creator. My main purpose is to investigate acolytes and the citizens faith simultaneously. The creators spirit envelops me like this to protect me and help me protect others."

Your words catch them both off-guard. Xingqiu double downs on his stance as Chongyun takes a step back.

"I was ordered to be as vague as possible which makes me very suspicious but I have to be careful in what I say. The perfect spirit sitaution may be new to me but there's a very logical explanation."

"And what may that be? If it's not satisfactory I will purge you as soon as possible seeing as you must be possessed by a demon of unknown caliber."

"Think back to when the creater controlls you, does your yang enegry ever get out of control?"

"Of course not, the creators spirit inhibits us and allows us to access blessings that belong to them."

"Then why can't I, who is constantly connected to the creator access those blessings?"

"Thats-!" Chongyun bits his lip as he looks away clearly conflicted.

"The creator is all powerful! Do you think that their perfect spirit isn't strong enough to completely overpower mine?"

Chongyun loses his grip on his claymore and it's dissapears into the air. He's far too anguished between what he knows is a fact and what his own feelings tell him. Too easy, easy to the point where Xingqiu steps in.

"That's a nice runaround and although I can't comment on this perfect spirit conversation as I have not been allowed to read those books yet. I believe it's your identity as a oracle that is the most questionable."

"I know, a clever and eloquent man like yourself would not be so easily swayed by a charlatan like me."

"Cut the crap and show me whatever proof you have. Or is your hands as empty as your skull?"

Ignoring his words, you send a mental thank you to Ayato and display the fan. It would be useless to use in convincing Chongyun but Xingqiu would know due to his high-standing.

Just as you suspected Xingqiu's eyes widen for a second before he moves closer to examine the fan.

"It's the real deal... This texture is one only used in Inazuma for those close to the Electro Archon." His fingers brush against the fabric of the fan before he pulls away with a softening scowl. "I suppose you weren't lying if you managed to get this fan. The Kamisato Commissioner is said to be a elusive man."

Chongyun looks at the fan and Xingqiu in confusion before sighing and giving up on understanding the conversation.

"If that quells all remaining doubts then lets get going. We wasted a lot of precious time." Quickly you walk past them and smile at the sounds of their footsteps following you.

Putting the fan back into the safety of the bag you remember how thankful you are for meeting Ayato. At least with proving yourself to him, you managed to get such a useful tool. It's only fair to milk it for all it's worth.

The fork comes into view and your breath catches in your throat.

The lush grass was crushed under a mix of debris and blood. Crimson stained and dripped down the stone hedge as pieces of dirty clothing drifted in the area. The huge wreckage of a smashed up transportation vehicle was the main center piece.

Aside from the dead bodies littering the area.

Bodies of treasure hoarders with elemental wounds were the most abundant. A few Fatui skirmishers with makeshift reaction and weapon wounds laid in the clearing. The war-machines were deactivated as the bodies rot inside.

Taking steps forward to the middle of the wreckage, it's a single item that installs fear.

A pink flower pin lays innocently on the ground. The blood and dirt on it seems to glisten with malice as the sun reaches it's peak in the sky.

It's finally out!!! OMG it's been so long since I last posted. Work's been burying me, every weekend is a birthday/event/funeral, plus the fall semester is going to start soon. Not to mention Fontaine is almost here and I didn't even finish a single area of Sumeru. Someone stop time, I need sleep. I hope I gave reasonable explanations for the stories behind the commissions. You know the first commission completed with the Qingxin? If you climb the mountain I described, you will find a Qingxin. I know this chapter may be a bit boring since it focused on the kidnapping but I hope Xingqiu and Chongyun were written well enough. I don't think they have a romantic relationship like many fans describe. Then again, I don't like shipping in general. I gave Xingqiu a similair dynamic to Ayato but there is difference. Ayato is more of a 'pretend to be formal while insulting' meanwhile Xinqui is more juvinele with 'I feel annoyed by your presence and the fact I like it is even worse'. Both are fun but if something else works better with Xingqiu's personality please let me know! Time for me to actually finish exploring the summer event and go to even more activites I don't want to attend T-T. (I'll recheck it when I can on my PC) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

[zeldabotwbrainrot]

sjsndbd you can keep sending me asks i literally do not mind them i love your ideas sm. you're actually helping with muse it's insane.

But since you insist, i had an idea in mind, and then i forgot, and then i saw your reblog and remembered again so !!

could i possibly get another egon x reader (i literally love egon i am not sorry about this) where the reader is a little bit religiously traumatized and they have a call there, but they physically cannot step into the church bc 1) their family went to this church, and 2) everything is coming back after almost forgetting about everything so egon has to comfort them.

Sorry if that's a little dark but that's me being angsty 💀

*rubs hands together* I also have religious trauma so les goooo

“I promise you’re okay Dove”

Egon Spengler x Reader

Warnings: angst, religious trauma, implied 🍇

Panic set in even before you’d gotten into the Ecto 1. The call you’d received was from a church, the Catholic Church to be precise. The one your parents attended when you were young. Egon knew you didn’t like churches somewhat but he thought it was just because you were a scientist and you didn’t believe the stupid bible stories.

You took your meds and got into the Ecto 1 all kitted up and ready. As Ray pulled up to the church your stomach did flips and suddenly you were back to your 7 year old self.

You were only young, seven years old nearly 8. Your parents were taking you to Easter service at the church near your apartment. You were dressed up in a pretty blue dress with a little bow at the back and your hair curled. You never understood why exactly this was so important but you enjoyed the free chocolate.

Of course you’d never worn a dress of this style to church. It came to your knees and was very poofy and femme. The dresses you usually wore were ankle length, and a peachy colour. You didn’t argue though because good girls never argued. As you approached the church the pastor was welcoming everyone, and though you nor your parents saw, he was eyeing you up.

You sat beside your parents and swung your little legs as the ceremony began. You were old enough to volunteer with the little show they put on and let kids get involved with. Of course you begged your parents and it didn’t take much for them to allow you to. The service itself went smoothly, afterward while children were allowed to play outside on the clear patch of grass and adults were sat around picnic tables talking, the pastor called you over into the church. He told you that you looked very pretty in your dress and that he knew God intended you to find a man soon.

This confused you because you were only 7 and boys were so blehhhhh. But you just nodded and smiled and turned to leave. The pastor asked you if you could show him your stockings because they looked so pretty and you foolishly agreed. You thought nothing of it and never mentioned it to your parents. And that’s how it continued every Easter service up until you were 15 and finishing up school.

He tried to get you to strip, going as far as to drag you into the confessional booth and rip your dress. Without going into to much depth he had his way with you and only after you were able to escape and run out screaming and crying. Your dress was in shreds, you were a mess makeup running down your cheeks, and all your parents said was, “you shouldn’t have been tempting him with how short your dress was”

You hadn’t moved from your seat in the Ecto one for a good five minutes, tears were streaming down your cheeks your breathing heavy. Egon told the others to go ahead and he would catch up. They agreed and he waited for you to calm down and come back to the real world. They had things in the car for if Egon ever had a panic attack. He grabbed a sugary drink and something sour for you and that helped you come back to the present.

He held your hand gently and you looked at him. His heart broke seeing how upset you looked. “It’s okay now my dove, I promise you it’s okay Dove”

When the ghost was contained and you were safely in Egons baggy clothes in his bed swaddled up with your favorite drink and snacks Egon put his favorite music on and worked on some paperwork at the desk inside the bedroom. Not even Venkman had cracked a joke about the church, and that was rare.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🤽‍♂️ WIBTA if I broke a pool rule made specifically about me? 🤽‍♂️

Long story short, I (27M) am a freediver and work as a lifeguard at my local pool. I'm one of the few adults who work there, and most of my coworkers are either in highschool or barely out of it.

To be perfectly honest, I would not trust a good number of them to save me if I were to drown. And thats not just because they're teenagers, some of them have some seriously dangerous bad habits that they've been warned before about.

So now that winter has started and I can't go out to the lake, I've been practicing my breath holds at the pool to stay in practice. But I do NOT do this when one of the problem guards is on duty. I only ever do it when there's a good guard on, it's not too busy, and they're at least some level of aware about what I'm doing.

Shortly after I started doing this, big "No Breath Holding" signs went up.

Of course none of the guards were told about this because communication is sometimes a problem at this pool. So I have no other information other then there wasn't a sign, and now there is.

But I'm reasonably sure the signs are specifically because of me. I guard there pretty frequently, and I've never seen anyone hold their breath for a concerning amount of time. Its mostly kids who do, and none of them can hold their breath more than 15 seconds and they pop right back up, so other than keeping an eye on them, I've never been legitimately worried about them. That's one of the things I'm least worried about while guarding tbh, there are a LOT of other dangers.

Frankly, I think the rule is silly. I'd think it were less silly if we had a problem with patrons holding their breath for long periods of time, but I've never seen it happen. So unless it happens in the hours I don't work, I can only assume the rule is specifically about me.

Maybe I'm being paranoid or having main character syndrome, but from what I see, I'm the only one who would actually be affected by this rule.

Now since I only dive in front of a handful of guards anyway, I figure there's a decent chance that if I warn them about what I'm doing ahead of time that they wouldn't raise a fuss about it.

But it IS a liability issue for the pool (a lot of our rules are mainly to do with liability tbh), and I worry that very explicitly breaking this rule is an AH move and I should just accept I'm going to have to retrain in the summer from scratch.

NOTE: The lake does not have any lifeguards, but I never dive alone. But it is CONSIDERABLY safer to practice at the pool where the water is clear and there's a lifeguard right there. I'm comfortable practicing for longer at the pool for this reason, while at the lake, I'll usually only do 2 practice dives to warm up, a few shallow dives, and one big dive.

YES, I recognize that freediving can be a dangerous hobby. NO, I don't need to be told that. Most outdoor hobbies are on some level dangerous, and so long as you actually know what you're doing and have a spotter, I honestly think it's at least as safe as something like horseback riding or biking on roads next to cars - either of which can kill or maim you in a heartbeat if something goes wrong. Dangers in freediving usually (not always) occur when pushing yourself too far, and I'm incredibly cautious about my limits for that exact reason.

What are these acronyms?

[daimyosprincess]

SOME REX AND RELAXATION

—PAIRING: Rebels!Captain Rex x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

—WORD COUNT: 3.3k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, Rebels!Rex, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), Dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (bc I can’t help myself), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything! Mando'a translations are at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I miss Rex so this is getting posted today!!! After a rough week a bit ago, I started writing this as a comfort fic to make myself feel better and boy howdy, by the the end of it I was feeling way better 😈 Also: Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor deserve to live in comfy cottages in pastoral peace for the rest of their beautiful days. And I've decided that the clones age normally after the age of 25 so they have nice long lives ahead of them :)

This is my first ever Rex fic and I want to give a big shout out to my resident Rexpert @rexxdjarin for betaing this fic, I hope I did our captain justice 💙 Also thank you to @cloned-eyes for letting me use their amazing Rex art in my header!! That fresh out the shower Rex was some delicious inspo for this fic 🫠

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

The only thing worse than the day you’ve had was this week as a whole. Nothing had gone right with the New Republic school going up in town, and somehow the solution to several of those problems was what you’d said a week ago… but only when that bureaucratic sop from Coruscant said it. Not to mention the pipes burst in your apartment, you slipped down some stairs in front of a street full of people (with the worst bruise of your entire life to prove it), and to top it all off, you dropped your overpriced caf all over your shoes this morning.

Not a great week.

At this point, you’re only one minor inconvenience away from snapping—the fact that it’s the end of the work week is the only thing keeping you together. And, of course, your perfect, wonderful captain of a boyfriend, Rex. You’ve been staying at his farmhouse while repairs are made to the water lines that caused the damage at your place. 

He and his brothers, Gregor and Wolffe, had come to your quiet little agricultural planet a couple years ago and fixed up a few of the old houses at the edge town to live in. They mostly keep to themselves, but are always willing to lend a helping hand when it’s needed, whether it’s making repairs after the annual monsoon, donating fresh produce for school meals, or digging out flooded irrigation ditches. They are good men and the town accepts them as part of their own, even if Wolffe is a little grumpy and Gregor turns all the local women into giggling messes when he’s around.

The three of them are mending a fence on the far side of the property when you arrive at the farmstead. Usually you would have taken your speeder over for a chat, but you don’t think you have it in you after today. All you want to do is take off your bra and flop face-down on Rex’s couch to wait for the world to stop sucking—which is exactly how Rex finds you when he comes inside a few minutes later. 

“Another great day then, mesh’la?” he teases with the mirth of a man who already knows his question’s answer. His work boots make a thud on the stone tiles as he pulls them off.

Without looking up, you grunt a “no” into the cushions and shake your head.

“Do you want to come shower with me or do you need some alone time?”

“Alone time,” your muffled voice answers, “then Rex time. Lots and lots of Rex time.”

His warm chuckle and beard graze delightfully over the back of your neck as he bends to press a kiss to your hair. “Alright then, pretty girl. Just relax and I’ll be back to give you all the time in the world, okay?” You give him another muffled affirmative and he squeezes your calf affectionately before heading to the ‘fresher. 

Maker, he’s good to you. 

A year ago you would have never thought you’d find yourself in a long-term relationship with an ex-clone trooper who’s old enough to be your father, or that you would be calling said ex-clone trooper Daddy while he makes you see stars. The Force works in mysterious ways, you suppose… not that you’re complaining. Far from it. 

Your relationship with Rex might have come as a surprise but you’ve never been happier: things with him are as close to perfect as they can get. He cares for you, makes you feel so safe and loved and warm that you could melt into a puddle at his feet, and you adore him. He’s kind, strong, and compassionate, a good leader through and through. The galaxy has never made a finer man, and not to mention, a finer lover.

Eventually, you muster the strength to roll yourself off the couch and ditch your work clothes for your much more comfortable loungewear, deciding to forgo panties as a nice little surprise for your boyfriend. Snuggling under his covers that smell of him, you flip onto your stomach to scroll through your datapad. Efficient as always, Rex doesn’t make you wait long, the ‘fresher door sliding open a few minutes later. The comforting, woody smell of his soap fills your nose as you take in his broad frame glistening from his shower. 

Kark, he looks good. All broad shoulders and bronze skin, thick and perfect. How has no one made a statue of this man?

Noticing your interested stare, he winks as he hangs his towel on its hook. “Feeling better, mesh’la?”

You hum your delight and click off your tablet to give him your full attention. “Yeah, could be better, though,” you add with a sneaky smile.

“Oh yeah? How?” Flicking off the ‘fresher light, he starts towards you. The mischievous glint in your boyfriend’s eye is more than enough to get your blood pumping, especially combined with his shirtless upper half. 

You flip up the covers next to you, grinning up at him. “Well for starters, you could get in the bed with me, handsome.” His brown eyes sparkle when he returns the expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “And then you can hold me and make me forget all about this entire kriffing week.” 

Your captain is quite good at making you forget things, whether it be a bad day or your own name.

Obliging as always, Rex slides in behind you and loops an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his bare chest. Your body reacts immediately to his touch, the tension in your muscles slacking. He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle from the way his beard tickles the sensitive skin there, and starts kissing every bit of you his lips can reach. When you try to squirm away from him and his beard, squealing and panting from your laughter, he just locks his big arms around you and keeps going.

“Eeee! Rex! S-stop, you’re tickling me-you’re tickling me!”

In between smacking kisses, he chuckles into your ear. “I thought you said you want me to make you forget about this week, mesh’la.” His hold loosens enough for you to wriggle around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and admiring how handsome he is up close.

You brush your lips over his, gently running your nails down the back of his neck and savoring the way he shivers at your soft touches; knowing you have such an effect on him makes your skin hot. “Well Captain,” you drawl with syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking something more along the lines of… this.” You roll your hips against his, sighing at the pleasant sensation. 

Rex groans his rumbling approval and drops his large hands to your ass to grind you harder against his center. “Anything you want, baby, just tell me and it’s yours.”

You know what you want: to be taken care of after this shit-show of a week, to be kissed and loved and cherished like only he can, doted on and held safe in his arms. You want to completely let go and surrender—no more thoughts, no more worries, just him. Just Rex. Your perfect, perfect Rex. 

Capturing his lips in an indulgent kiss, you whine your desire into his mouth when you break for air, not caring how needy you sound. 

He shushes you with gentle sounds, stroking over your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” he coos in a sinfully sweet voice, cradling your face between his palms, “you’ve had a hard week… yeah, I know, I know. You need Daddy to make it all better, don’t you?” He pulls you crushingly tight against the strong line of his body, just how he knows you like, holding all your pieces together so you don’t have to.

“Please,” you gasp, burrowing deeper into him, “Don’t wanna… don’t wanna be anymore. Just wanna be yours.” The ache of existence in your chest is already beginning to melt underneath his weight, replaced by the tender warmth of his devoted attention. The edges of your mind go liquid as you let him pour you into his mold.

“Daddy’s going to take care of you, all you have to do is listen and let him make you feel good, okay, babygirl?” You bob your head in a nod, your eyes starry and wide as you await his next instruction. Rubbing the back of your neck, Rex places an affectionate kiss on your forehead for your obedience. “Good girl. Now turn over, face out and back to me… lift your arms… yeah, just like that,” he murmurs as he slides your top off, planting wet kisses on the new skin exposed to him.

His battle-worn hands skim up the swell of your tummy to take in breasts. You’re already buzzing in eager anticipation. You push into his touch, pressing your chest out in an offer of more, and you’re to be quickly rewarded with a low groan and his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples deliciously slow. Wanting heat rises through you like a flame catching to dry tender while little mewls of pleasure fall from your lips. 

“So beautiful, so warm, my sweet cyar’ika,” he purrs between more lush kisses, “I know this makes you feel good… I’m going to give those perfect tits the attention they deserve.” He gives your peaked tips a gentle pinch and you moan, the electric sensation shooting straight to swollen clit. Smiling at your vocal pleasure, Rex begins an erotic rhythm that has you bucking your hips as his fingers alternate between pinching and rolling.

“Ooohhh, y-you feel so… you feel s-so good,” you whine, writhing against his ministrations. With the way his breathing has gone hot and ragged in your ear, you swear it could be enough to make you come untouched. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, just feel the pleasure… just concentrate on how good you feel, nothing else,” he instructs, his deep voice like golden honey to your ears. “Daddy’s got you now, he’s gonna take care of everything. He doesn’t like seeing his baby so stressed and unhappy.” Rex latches onto your pulse point, sucking your heated flesh into his mouth and sending waves of pleasure throbbing through your nerves.

“Nev-never unhappy with you,” you pant, reaching your hand back to push him deeper into your neck. Rex is your shining sun who banishes all of life’s many darknesses, and the match which lights the fire of your loins. He’s everything to you, and right now, he’s all you can feel and see and smell. It’s utterly divine. 

“Mmm, that makes me so happy to hear, you know why? Making you happy, taking care of my beautiful babygirl… it makes me happy. Daddy loves being there for his cyar’ika and he’d do anything to put a smile on her face, you know that?” Cupping your jaw, he tilts your head back to steal the little gasps of delight dripping sugary-thick from your lips. As hot and heavy as things have become, Rex doesn’t rush. He takes his time licking into your mouth and nibbling on your slicked bottom lip, all the while kneading and rolling your breasts, ever the man to keep his word.

Molten heat rushes through your veins as his words pour over your skin, spurring you onto new heights under his generous hands—the deep swell of his voice loosens the taunt aggravation of the week still stowed in your muscles. You’re like lavish wax under his care, worked pliable by him then molded into a work of weightless art, your very existence something to be admired.

His calloused fingertips sweep over the plushness of your lower belly, the shimmering heat of your arousal converging at his touch. When he dips below the fabric of your waistband, he sucks in a breath. “No panties, pretty girl? Now you’re the one spoiling me,” he groans, his cock twitching against the cage of your back. 

You let out a delighted, breathy giggle at his body’s reaction to the discovery. “I thought you might like that,” you breathe out fond and pleased, “I did it just for you.” 

He brushes lower, his middle finger tracing over the damp seam of your folds and a whimper sneaks through your smile at the feathery sensation. It’s these light, almost subatomic touches that make you come loose at the seams—and he knows it. Inside the year that you’ve been together, Rex has learned your body intimately, its history and inner workings revealed in the hours you spent in his arms.

“I love to hear your sweet little laugh, and I love to know that you’re smiling,” he murmurs affectionately, cupping your slick mound, “I’m so proud of you for letting me take some of the weight off you after this difficult week.” He takes a moment to plant kisses in the soft crook of your neck and up to your ear before continuing. “Now, just lie back, let me make you feel all warm and sweet. I want to watch you melt for me… melt and leave me with all your sweet honey to lick up.”

Each word shaped by his rich rasp further unmoors you from your senses. That sensual tingling feeling of submission bubbles pleasantly across your mind, your bones softening to downey cotton as you lose yourself to the sound of Rex’s voice. You can’t tell where the vibration of your own sounds of pleasure end and his begin, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, so, so safe and happy here in the glowing space between his arms. If only you could have him inside, too…

“C-can I have more, please? Want more of you, baby,” you pant, grinding into his palm between your thighs.

“Of course, mesh’la, you can have whatever you like. Anything and everything, all you have to do is ask.” Pressing into your lower lips, he spreads you apart. Your teeth immediately catch your lip when his trigger finger begins languidly sliding over your buzzing clit; the delicious friction fans the flames of your desire, heating you from the inside out. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest when your head falls back against his shoulder with a contented sigh. 

Rex takes advantage of the new access you allowed him, dragging his hot lips over your collarbone to nip and suck little marks onto your heated skin. “Mmm, I love touching you, I love feeling you,” he hums, thick and heady, “I want you to feel how much I care about you…” He scrapes his teeth up your tender throat to capture your mouth with his own.

Stars-Maker-kriff does he kiss like a god. A king amongst men, really, who- “Oh!”

Your eyes fly open as your captain easily flips you under him like a ragdoll, pulling your pants down and flinging them over his shoulder in one fluid motion that has you gushing.

“That’s better,” he mutters between hot mouthed-kisses down your sternum and over your tummy. The way his beard scrapes over your skin has chillbumps flowering all over. “It fills me up with so much happiness when I get to love on my sweet cyar’ika and take care of her. Makes everything else go away for me, too, sweetheart. I get to just focus on you.” 

His large hands skate down your ribs then down the curve of your hips to massage the fullness of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting to worship this perfect pussy, pull all those pretty sounds out of you while you come over and over… just like you deserve.”

You’re nothing more than a warm soup of sparkling sensation, swirling around the ache building in your core. Rex isn’t usually one to tease you, but it feels like he’s taking an eternity to make it between your-

“Ohhhh, Reeeex!”

Wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, he literally lifts you up to his mouth, moaning like a man tasting some paradisic fruit after months in the desert. “Fuck, babygirl, your little pussy… I could feel hot and needy it was when you were rubbing up against me, how wet and messy you were… but this? Kark. I’m so lucky to be able to kiss all over this beautiful cunt. So lucky to have this pussy, this ass,” he gives an appreciative squeeze to your behind, “and this sweet little girl all to myself.”

The air is suctioned from your lungs by the gravity of his pleasure; it’s unrelenting and all-consuming, it’s all you can comprehend. Squeezing your eyes shut in focus, you manage a reply. “S-so l-lucky to have you, Rex. You’re s-so good to me… love you… love you so much.” You cut off with a shuddering cry when he sucks your bud between his lips, not caring that you’re swiftly losing a battle you don’t want to win.

“I love you so much, my mesh’la,” he pants into your heat. “My sweet, precious girl, I’m going to give you my fingers, okay? Gonna give you just what you need so you can come all over my face.” He slips two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and releasing them with pop before easing into your soaked entrance. The twin sounds of your satisfaction fill the room, the stout stretch of his fingers making you moan while the clutch of your cunt has your captain grunting praises against your clit. 

“Kark, you’re so tight and wet, so perfect… clenching around me,” he crooks his fingers as much as he can in the restrictive walls, “Don’t hold back, beautiful, let me hear you. Let me hear how good you feel.”

His words scorch your nerves to ash with a molten magma of pleasure that erupts from your core. Your spine bows up, making Rex find the soul-shattering spot that makes you scream in ecstasy. The world around you snaps into sharp focus, bright and loud before exploding in a shower of stars and lambent energy. You’re unmade, unwound down to your most basal form of hot-blooded, carnal need where time and worldly matters no longer reign in your existence. Primal satisfaction and the thrill of euphoria rule you instead for several effervescent moments.

When the flood of electricity flowing from every cell and synapse begins to ebb to jolting aftershocks, the sweet praise of your lover floats over you in warm waves. “So beautiful like this… keep going mesh’la, take what you need… I love you so much… love making you feel good, love feeling your perfect pussy on my fingers…”

Reverent kisses are bestowed like offerings to the divinity of your pleasure as you materialize back into reality one pounding heartbeat at a time. Joy radiates from every molecule in your body, the stress of the mortal coil dissolved and washed far away, leaving you light, free, and happy. You want nothing more than to revel in this glorious sensation with the love of your life, and you call out to your captain with a breezy sigh, “Rex…”

“Cyare…”

“Want you close, my love, want you to hold me.”

You barely register his movement in your hazy after-glow, but soon your chest is pressed against a familiar wall of muscle and there’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Snuggling into his open warmth, you nuzzle into his neck and inhale Rex’s timber-fresh scent. 

Safe… happy… love. Him. Forever. 

Your hazy thoughts drift across the clear sky of your mind, eventually coalescing into a nebulous sentiment your lips can form around. “Rex… love you so much… thank you, baby.”

Curling around you tighter, Rex’s beard brushes over your shoulder as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Anything for you, my sweet, perfect girl,” he smiles into your hair, “You are everything to me, the light of an old soldier’s life. I will always take care of you, my mesh’la, no matter what.”

And with the certainty only love can bring, you know him to be true.   

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

mesh'la - beautiful

[montammil]

PLZ PLZ PLZ just one drabble where marshall and the other two have Stockholm and Lawrence takes them for like a 'family day' 😌 ofc ignore this if you want<333

Sorry this is short, even though I'm inexperienced in more wholesome writings (if you ignore the Stockholm syndrome LOL) I still love writing them! Thank you for the request :D

TW: Stockholm syndrome, parental whumper, infantilization (treating and referring to adults as children)

...

It took a lot of convincing from Marshall and Sadie both to talk Lawrence into taking them to the aquarium today. Lawrence never liked taking them outside their home, for several reasons, but Sadie was an expert at giving him puppy dog eyes and begging enough for whatever they wanted.

Lawrence wasn't too worried about them getting recognized--it had been a few years since their disappearances, after all. He just hated the idea of risking their safety. The outside world was a cruel place.

"Remember to always stick together," Lawrence told them as soon as they pulled into a parking space. It wasn't too crowded, thankfully, but they still had to park quite far from the entrance. "If I see any of you wandering off, we're going straight back home."

Marshall smiled larger than he had in months. "I hope they have penguins!"

"You'll find out when we get there," Lawrence chuckled, opening his car door.

Lawrence led the way inside with Sadie clutching onto his left arm and Marshall clinging to his right side. Nathan lagged behind, walking a bit slower than the others.

Despite preferring being in the comfort of their home, even Nathan felt relieved they could finally do something fun together (that wasn't the same daily routine).

A change in environment, no matter how small or uneventful, was refreshing for the three victims. They've spent enough time trapped within that house.

"Hello," the receptionist greeted. "How many?"

"Four," Lawrence replied, offering a polite smile. He pulled out his wallet and began fishing out enough cash to pay. The four were given bright green wristbands, which they secured on each of their wrists before proceeding inside.

Sadie looked around in awe, grasping Lawrence's arm again. "What are you most excited to see, Dad?"

His heart warmed whenever his kids referred to him as that. "Hmm... dolphins, probably. Though I'd love to see an octopus too. How about you, kiddo?"

"I'm happy with anything! It's all so cool," Sadie marveled, taking it all in.

Marshall still clung onto Lawrence tightly, but with less enthusiasm than before. He seemed more nervous now. "There's so many people..."

There really wasn't, but it was definitely more people than the poor thing was used to nowadays. They could have gone on a weekday to lessen the crowd, but the aquarium would be practically filled with screaming kids on field trips.

Nathan scoffed. "You're the one who was demanding we go here."

"Nate," Lawrence scolded, then turned his attention back on Marshall. "If you get too overwhelmed, we can always take breaks or leave early, okay, baby?" His gaze fell on Nathan. "That goes for all of us. This is supposed to be a good experience--I don't want anyone getting stressed out."

"Look! Piranhas," Sadie called, pointing to an exhibit at the entrance of the tunnel.

Lawrence kissed the top of Marshall's head before taking a few steps forward towards it. He gestured for Nathan to come closer too. He wanted them all to stay in sight.

As much as he trusted the kids wouldn't run off (or try to report him to staff), old habits died hard and he couldn't help but feel slightly paranoid in public. It was rare for his anxiety to affect him--only when his children were involved would he ever worry.

Marshall cringed. "Why do they look like that?"

"I think they're cool," Nathan muttered.

Sadie pointed to the sign. "It says they're actually not as bloodthirsty as movies portray them as. I guess I'm not surprised." She made a face. "They still freak me out a little though." She rushed on ahead, ignoring the exasperated sigh Lawrence gave. "Ooh, there's seahorses over here! That one's pregnant, I think." She gestured to the obvious one. "He's so cute."

Lawrence chuckled. "Seahorses are probably one of my favorite animals. It's nice seeing one in person."

Nathan shrugged. "I think they're overrated."

"There's more exhibits this way!" Sadie exclaimed, running down the hall.

"No running," Lawrence reminded her. "We aren't in a rush."

It was both funny and exhausting to him how different they all were; Sadie was running ahead, Marshall was clinging onto him, and Nathan could barely keep up in favor of trudging everywhere.

Not that he didn't like it. After so long treating them like children, they were finally acting like it.

"The penguins are here!" Sadie called in response. Marshall gasped and ran ahead too. Nathan kept at the same pace, unaffected. Penguins must not have been very high on his list.

Only once when Lawrence had the two in their line of sight, he slowed down to Nathan's pace. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah," Nathan muttered, keeping his eyes focused on the floor. He no longer got angry and embarrassed at the terms of endearment.

It took time for the kids to adjust, but now even Nathan would say 'love you' back to him from time to time. Only if he was feeling particularly loving towards Lawrence, however--which was pretty rare. Regardless, Lawrence was proud of him either way.

Lawrence glanced back at the other two for a brief moment, just to make sure they were still there. "Is there anything in particular you want to do after this? We'll probably only be here an hour longer at most."

Nathan played with the zipper on his jacket. "You'll say no."

"Maybe," he admitted. "But I'd still like to hear it." Despite being so controlling of them, he really did love hearing his kids talk.

"It's stupid, but I was wondering if we could stop by an arcade. There's one across town. It's alright if you don't wanna. I don't even care anymore, honestly." But it was easy to tell it was a lie. His cheeks were red despite the nonchalant act. "You probably hate games, anyways."

Lawrence snorted. "Nate, I'm not ancient. When I was a teen, I practically lived in the arcade."

"That was thousands of years ago," Nathan smirked. He peered over to see Marshall pressed up against the glass of the exhibit, watching the penguins play around while Sadie read the facts about them displayed nearby.

It was like they completely forgot the other two were even there. Maybe that was better. He secretly loved their company, but it was rare he got one on one time with his dad.

Lawrence pinched his cheeks. "Watch yourself, brat," he teased, "we can go but don't make me change my mind."

Nathan swatted his hands away playfully, letting a giggle escape his mouth. He tried to keep quiet, so Marshall and Sadie wouldn't overhear, but it didn't matter much anyways. They weren't paying attention to him or Lawrence at the moment. "I'm excited to introduce you to Street Fighter."

"Oh, please, you weren't even alive when that game released," Lawrence rolled his eyes fondly. "C'mon, let's go catch up with the others." The pair began walking over to join Marshall and Sadie who were already moving on to the next exhibit. He stopped behind them. "Ooh, electric eels."

Sadie shook her head. "Those are actually moray eels. Moray eels have cuter faces, electric eels have flat, weird-looking heads."

"Like you," Nathan snickered. She shoved him in a playful retort.

"There's the Nemo's," Marshall rushed towards the clown fish and leaned into the glass.

"'Nemo's?'" Lawrence cooed at how adorable he was.

Marshall glared at him in a mock pout. "You know what I mean! If you didn't make me watch that movie a million times, I'm sure I would've called them clown fish." He stood normally again and wrapped his arms around Lawrence, burying his face into his chest. "Anyway, I'm ready to go home. I'm so tired already." This was the first time in a while that he walked this far.

He was met with a kiss on top of his head. "You were such a trooper today. Thank you. Nate and I are gonna go to the arcade after this, but I can drop you off at home." He glanced at Sadie. "Do you want to come to the arcade with us or stay home?"

"You can drop me off at home too, I'm, also kind of tired. Can we check out the gift shop before we leave?" she asked.

Lawrence grinned. "I think it's obvious by now I spoil you all."

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O' Hara (Across the Spider Verse) - Oneshot

Miguel has had his share of dysfunctional and annoying spider-men and women. So he’s always willing to admit when he meets a dependable one. 

Your work ethic was commendable. You’d been recruited by Jessica who raved about how you helped her in a bind apprehending one of the anomalies. You were trained, efficient, ambitious both in the field as well as your personal life as a coach. On paper, you were the perfect worker. The only problem seemed to be…him. 

Whenever you were on a mission with all of them, you were hyper-focus. Your attention never strayed until the work was done and the villain was caught. Like most assignments, they reported back to headquarters to log their most recent anomaly. Miguel gave a brief and further expectations. One by one the room would clear out. For a moment you would just stand there. The second you realized that it was just you and him, he prepared for it, the excuse that followed. You’d suddenly become tense and yell..

“I-I have to feed my cat!!” 

Just like that you were out the door faster than a bullet. 

As far as he knew, you didn’t have a cat. Not that he would call you on it. 

Yes, you were an exceptional worker. You just apparently detested him. 

“What did you do to her?” Lyla's judgmental tone called.

“I didn’t do anything.” Miguel growled. He was just as puzzled as her. It’s true that he’s not the most friendly person, but he was that way with everyone. Most of them had just gotten used to it. He couldn't recall ever yelling at you. You hadn’t even done anything that even warranted a lecture from him. He racked his brain for an explanation but all he came up with was the many excuses you’d presented to escape his presence. 

Like,

“I-I forgot my laundry in the machine!” 

“M-My goldfish is sick!” 

“I-I left the stove on!” 

“I-I have to go!!” 

The crease in his brow deepened. Because he felt like it was just a matter of time before you decided that you didn’t want to work for him anymore. It’s not like he had a scarcity of spider people, but he valued your skills. Especially the fact that he didn’t have to yell behind you like a child. It was nice to have an adult who actually acted like one. 

Unlike Parker. 

“Hey Miguel!!” 

Speak of the devil.  

Peter walked in with Mayday in tow who immediately jumped onto Miguel’s shoulders the second she was within reach. His scowl stayed planted, even when she started messing with his cheeks, her giggles following. 

“Heh, he’s not so scary right Mayday.” 

She nodded with a tooth grin and Miguel just turned back to the platform. 

“If I ignore him he’ll go away.” 

One could hope. 

The week proceeded and he’d gotten back to his analysis, scanning through any more potential threats. Lyla was doing her own little research, hovering over his shoulder as he flipped back and forth through reports and unusual activity. The door opening behind him alerted that his crew had arrived. 

“We have a new sighting on Earth 234.” 

Miguel turned. 

Gwen, Hobie, You and Jessica.

He felt comfortable with the crew. 

“I’ll be coming with you on this one. Lyla said there might be two this time.” 

“Sounds like a challenge.” Gwen cheered. Hobie just leaned against the wall. 

Miguel closed the current tab, eyes moving to his watch as he typed in the necessary coordinates to head out. They all filed in the second it was present, ready for anything. Miguel’s instructions had been to split up into groups. 

“(Y/N), you’re with me. Gwen, Hobie, head to the South. Jessica, North.” 

Everyone nodded, taking off in their instructed directions. Your eyes were fixated ahead as you jumped from building to building right beside Miguel. 

“How bad is the damage so far?” You questioned. 

“The third floor of a building was struck. We’ll need to prepare for a collapse.” 

“Alright.” 

You’d already shifted into battle mode. Miguel couldn’t help but steal a glance. As far as he could see, there was no issue. It was still eating at him. He decided at that moment that after this trip he needed to confront you. Figure out the problem and solve it. 

The screams ahead pulled his focus. 

“(Y/N).” 

“On it!”

You swung around the building, spotting what looked like a mutant lizard. It hissed the second it saw you and you fired a kick, knocking it right off its feet and harshly against the pavement. You landed easily in front of it and Miguel took the opportunity to grab the woman who’d been cornered by the beast. He made his way over to the police vehicle, landing and placing her on her feet. She looked up, grateful and still a bit shaken as an officer guided her away. 

“It’s good to see you again.” The Chief called. 

Miguel nodded, turning back when he saw you tying the lizard up. 

“Is it just one?” 

The Chief nods. 

“As far as we saw. But you need to be careful. He had some kind of device. My officers disabled it, but he’d already released some kind of suction. It took a few items into the air. We’re still getting some falling objects. We’ve blocked off this part of the city. There was activity in the North and South part of town.”

Miguel felt better knowing he’d already sent reinforcements. The others could handle that. He glanced over when he saw a portal close at your side. You were next to him in seconds. 

“Peter just took in our lizard guy, but I just barely dodged getting hit by a metal pole.” 

He saw said pole standing upright, wedged into the concrete. 

“Get all your men to a secure area, we’ll handle this.” 

“You got it, we’ll shelter at the center.” 

He gestured to the officers, yelling for them to fall back. Miguel turned back to you once they cleared the area. 

For the next half hour, you and Miguel spent it using your webs to catch any fallen debris that was present. Jessica, Gwen and Hobie had returned some time after. 

“All clear boss!” Gwen saluted. 

Miguel seemed content with the result. There were no casualties to speak of and the capture of the latest anomaly had gone by very smoothly. He felt confident to call it a day. He turned to do just that, you were not much further behind him. Gwen and the others had already started walking away when he gave the word. Jessica opened a portal and they were about to step in when they all seemed to flinch, turning to him.  

“Watch out!!” 

Miguel was confused about the cause for their alarm. When he looked up, the car that was falling bumper first confirmed their panic. He didn’t have a chance to even brace for impact. He didn’t have to, because two thick streams of web stuck to either end of the car as you forced it in your direction. You grabbed it when it was within reach, holding the weight. They all stared, a bit relieved as you slowly placed the vehicle to the floor. 

The metal creaked at the dropped weight, and you straightened. Gwen rushed over to you with a big smile. 

“That was awesome!!” 

You returned her smile. Hobie trailed over with a smirk of his own. 

“Good catch.” 

You flushed, rubbing the back of your head. 

“I-It was nothing.” 

They continued to flock to you and Miguel simply stared. You’d quite literally saved him from possibly a week’s worth of pain. Lyla popped up with a hum. 

“I guess she doesn’t completely hate you. She could have just let it squash you like a bug.” 

“Thank you for the imagery.” 

He was careful to do an additional scan before they finally left that earth. As he stepped into the lab, he did his usual debrief. With a few words exchanged, the room began to clear. You waited attentively for him to give you any additional comments. With your mask removed you just looked curious. But the minute you took in the lack of other personnel, he saw the change on your face and he could already predict an excuse coming. 

“I-I need to water my plants!!” 

You tried to make a dash for it, but he jumped from the platform, landed right in front of you. You backed away from the door, eyes a bit shaky. Hand clutching your mask. 

“I think we need to have a word.” 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” 

He shook his head. 

“Your work is exceptional. You're a great help to the team.” 

Lyla appeared with a nod of confirmation. 

“T-Then what’s the problem?” 

You were shifting in your spot and Miguel tracked each action, hoping that by some miracle he could figure out why you were now anxious when you’d caught a car not even twenty minutes earlier without so much as a sweat. 

“Do you have a problem working with me?” 

If that was the case he could easily put you in a different area where your meetings would be limited. It would be a bit discouraging to lose you on his main team, but it was better than you leaving completely. He waited patiently for you to speak, but your cheeks turned red and you just started fidgeting with the mask. 

“I-I don’t have a problem working with you..” 

It was said so softly and you refused to look directly at him. Now he was even more perplexed. Lyla tilted her head, and after a second she cooed. 

“Oh! How cute!” 

She was gushing, and he turned, a little annoyed that Lyla seemed to figure it out when he was still lost. 

“What is it?” He growled, impatient. 

“She has a crush on you!” 

Lyla said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The color brightened on your cheeks and Miguel looked at you for some kind of denial, but when you looked up at him, his eyes widened. Your gaze held such an innocent adoration that almost made him think he was hallucinating. He’d never really seen you look at him with anything other than respect and professionalism. Your feelings were written all over your face now and he wondered how he could have missed it. After a few moments it finally became too much. You closed your eyes. 

“I-I should go!!” 

You ran around his body, out the door. 

Miguel was left standing there in a state of shock. 

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

I have a theory that the reason we as an audience feel like Sibuna in Season 3b are making monumentally stupid choices is because the show doesn’t actually spell out for us that the kids don’t have all the information we have. In fact, they are operating with less than half of our knowledge. (This is gonna be a longgggg post, so read under the cut if you dare)

On my latest rewatch of S3 for fanfic purposes, i found myself really struggling to justify why the hell Eddie couldn’t put two and two together with his vision of Patricia and the “traitor” in Sibuna. I was frustrated with him because to me it was incredibly obvious! Like who else could it possibly be?? But then, I rewatched it again with a closer eye and everything suddenly clicked:

We, the audience, are watching the action from a completely zoomed out angle. We’re not just following Sibuna, but we’re also following Team Evil. We know Robert is capturing Sinners and what a Sinner actually is, before Sibuna is even fully aware that they failed to stop the eclipse ceremony. The kids metaphorically tripped at the starting line.

Furthermore, this is the first time in the show that the Sibunas have not had either the upper hand or were even on equal playing field with the adults. In Season 1, the Society was wholly unprepared for a bunch of adolescents to start foiling in their plans (bc why would they be prepared for that??), and Sibuna basically destroyed them due to adults underestimating their willingness to fuck around and find out. In Season 2, Victor/Vera and Sibuna were on equal ground; no one knew how to solve the tasks and it was a matter of a bunch of separate parties trying to figure it out before each other. They were all just throwing shit at the wall and hoping it stuck.

At the top of Season 3, we play a lot with both the S1 and S2 dynamics. At first, Sibuna is leagues and bounds ahead of the adults, and then they pretty quickly end up on the same footing. Then, in the second half of the season, that entire dynamic is flipped on its head, and it’s Sibuna who are wholly unprepared for the adults. I’ve talked about how the kids, especially our Sibuna veterans, got a little too comfortable with Victor and co’s ineptitude and cocky with their own intelligence… but that’s not even why they were so slow on the uptake.

None of the Sibunas even hear the word “Sinner” until they find that book in the secret room and read it while sitting on the stage. And the book does not explain at all what a Sinner actually is. It tells them that Ammut needs “the souls of five human sinners who embody the greatest flaws of mankind” and once she has five of them she can enter the human realm and cause lots of problems. Absolutely nowhere in the book does it ever say “Also, much like Robert, the soulless body of the Sinner is reawakened in service to the underworld.” The only other hint that could have possibly clued anyone in is “when your friends are not your friends”. But like, that clue was ages ago! Why would they even be thinking about that, when it had absolutely no bearing on their hunt for the secret room/answers up to that point? I cannot stress this enough, THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT A SINNER IS! (I’m gonna repeat this sentence about 400 times in case you don’t get it now lol) Mind you, that atp in the timeline, this is approximately fifteen or so minutes before Denby captures Patricia.

But let’s rewind all the way back to when Team Evil devises a plan to kidnap Eddie. He’s in the crypt, right? It’s pretty evident to him that it was probably Denby, Victor, and/or Robert who trapped him here, but he’s got no real clue as to why. Of course, we all know that they’re planning on turning him into a Sinner, because we saw Victor get turned. But as far as Sibuna knows, Victor has never really been on their side, so all they think is that he’s being meaner than usual but of course he’s opposing them. That’s not strange.

Okay, so Eddie is stuck and distressed, but he’s not as panicked as he needs to be because nowhere in his mind does he think this could potentially end in what is essentially his death. Now, throw in the horrifying vision he has of Patricia getting dragged into a glowing sarcophagus. He still doesn’t know what a Sinner is, but he knows that whatever he just saw was really bad; it’s an incentive from the Osirian spirit (or the house, or the gods, or literally whatever) to actually try to get the hell out of there.

So we’re all sitting here watching going “Oh my god they’re gonna nab Patricia and make her evil! 😰” because we have context; Eddie has absolutely none. It’s also really important for later on that his vision ends when the sarcophagus door shuts. It’s framed as incredibly final, and for all Eddie knows, they’ve just stuffed Patricia in what he knows is a tiny cramped space and locked the door behind her. He thinks that at best they are going to kidnap her or, at worst, straight up kill her. Nothing in that vision indicates she’s walking out of there at all.

When Patricia ran off after the fake messages, Eddie is concerned for a lot of different reasons, but the two primary ones are the obvious “oh my god my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her what do I do???” and the other is “if she’s run off on her own, the adults could fulfill my vision!” But then she turns back up, which should be clear to us by now means that he thinks she’s safe. He’s waiting for her (for any of them) to disappear. But when none of them do, they think it’s fine. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t think Patricia is in danger of becoming a Sinner, he just doesn’t realize what that would actually look like.

Even when they’re all in the hallway morbidly joking about having to give up sinning, the language KT uses is telling of what they think being a Sinner means: “We don’t want to accidentally help out Team Evil [by sinning].” Of course, this statement works with the knowledge the audience has of everything, but if Sibuna actually knew what they were dealing with, KT would have said something more like “We don’t want to get captured/turned by Team Evil.” The jokes they’re making are still morbid, but because they think you just get put in the sarcophagus and that’s the end of it.

Let’s flash forward again to the phonograph getting smashed and Eddie’s second vision that prompts the witch hunt panic in the first place. The vision can be separated into three parts: 1) Eddie sees a hooded figure smash the phonograph (okay Sibuna already knows someone did it on purpose, not too crazy); 2) Robert approaches him creepily and has the mic-drop moment of “it was one of your little friends; you have a viper in your nest” (seriously what a raw line of dialogue… but also now Eddie is being told that there is a traitor. Pretty cut and dry); 3) he turns around and sees every other member of Sibuna mockingly throw up the Sibuna sign (uh oh!)

So here is where people (including me!) always got a little annoyed with Eddie for not doing the math. But upon several rewatches and actually listening to what everyone was saying, never once do any of the kids ever bring up the word “Sinner” during the entirety of this whodunnit arc. And that’s simply because it’s not even a thought that crosses their minds. The language they use is very telling: “traitor” and “betrayal” being the heavy hitters. If any of them actually had context for what was actually going on, the language they would be using would be more like “victim” or literally just “Sinner” as a noun. But they don’t, which is why they’re so hostile toward one another… and why KT was screwed from the moment Eddie had that vision.

Because the fact that they don’t know that a Sinner is an evil version of themselves (not just someone whose soul is being used as a power generator), means that on a subconscious level Fabian, Alfie, and even Eddie already assumed KT was guilty. And Sinner!Patricia knew that, and that’s why she was so easily able to pivot and pin it on her. KT was directly linked to Frobisher, and Fabian and Alfie had already been suspicious of her at the start of the season for other reasons. It’s why Fabian let Patricia help him with the finger printing in the first place: because he doesn’t believe it’s her. And Eddie would have no real reason to suspect Patricia for three reasons: 1) Because he’s in love with her; 2) Because he knows just how long Patricia (and Fabian, and Alfie) have been loyal to Sibuna and to each other; 3) Because he, like everyone else, was looking at this betrayal as a willing capitulation to the Team Evil.

The first time Sibuna becomes aware that a Sinner is an entity that they have to actually watch out for walking about (as opposed to just having to watch out becoming), is after KT and Harriet manage to escape Patricia in the Gatehouse. Harriet clearly knows what a Sinner is bc she has the presence of mind to actually explain (vaguely, of course, because she’s drugged to kingdom come) to KT what she’d just narrowly escaped.

And then when she confronts Sibuna and Patricia in the hallway after Miss Crocodile Tears is telling tales about KT trying to kidnap her, KT drops the bomb on the boys: “She was trying to make me a Sinner just like her!” Pause. Record scratch. Okay. Now everything they thought they knew about the situation is completely recontextualized as something much more sinister than what they initially thought. Because I’d always struggled with how cruel they were being to KT, especially if they thought it wasn’t her fault. But everything up until this point deeply suggests or rather expects us to understand that Sibuna only had two pieces of an 100 piece puzzle, and that them being mean to KT was because they thought she actually betrayed them.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is not stupid for not figuring it out right away. In fact, without knowing what a Sinner actually is, it would be an insane leap to assume Patricia had anything to do with the phonograph.

I’ve basically talked myself and all of you in several circles, but the bottom line is the show didn’t do a fabulous job of telling us that Sibuna had no clue what they were up against. It’s easy for us to sit back and go “what the hell is wrong with them are they stupid?” because we have all the knowledge of what’s going on eons before they do. This is a far more charitable read of the characters’ choices and thought process, and the only way any of their actions make any sense. In fact, this is less of a theory and more of what is… literally canon, I guess

[mythtaker]

You Have A Place

spider socorro, hurt/comfort, ptsd [chapter 1] [chapter 2] word count : 1,616 summary : Spider does his best as he tries to live after being held hostage for months. Sometimes it's hard.

The two days it took Jake to arrive by Ikran, Spider spent outside the base. Now that he was free, he could roam the forest again. He could wander without the shadowing fear of consequences. 

And though being back was nice, it wasn’t like leaping logs with Kiri and Lo’ak. It didn’t matter. The Sully’s were probably never moving back. And Spider would be left alone. 

He stretched the vast perimeter of the base, toeing the invisible boundary that separated the humans from the Omaticayans. He felt like a bug trapped in a glass jar. But he was freer than he’d been in so long and the glass jar happened to be huge. So he couldn’t interact with the people, at least he was alive. At least he was safe. 

The plants and animals kept him company enough.

The morning of Jake’s arrival came quicker than Spider anticipated. It sent him on edge. He still had no clue why Jake was visiting. Why now? And what for? Was there anything to be said between the two? Spending months captured, not being searched for, not noticing his absence until days after he’d returned to base? Did it matter? Did he matter?

“Jeeze, Spider,” Norm said with a wince, walking past him. “Maybe a shower, bud, huh?”

Spider flushed, partially grateful to be interrupted from his spiraling thoughts, but also embarrassed. He hadn’t thought to do so, hygiene being the least of his worries. But he conceded. He did stink, and it was time to wash his hair. It was brittle from saltwater and littered with bits of leaves he wasn’t able to shake off. 

When he left the shower, Spider donned a shirt and a pair of sweats. He loathed the fact that it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as it used to. But he figured if he didn’t have the Sully’s, then he wasn’t Omaticaya, which left him as human as ever. 

No more stripes for you.

The hiss of the airlock chamber expelling Pandoran air was sharp to Spider’s ears as he made his way towards it. The scientists were already ahead which meant that Jake had warned them he’d be here soon.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Max said. “I was just about to grab you.” 

The door to enter the base opened with a chaaah and in stepped a tall blue body. Spider’s breath caught in his throat and he coughed awkwardly, reaching out to grab at Max’s jacket to steady himself. For a moment, he could see Quaritch so clearly in front of him like he could reach down and grab at Spider, drag him away.

He was spacing out again, something that happened without his control far too often now. He couldn't remember when it started. Maybe after his second stint with that machine, or sometime during his long stays isolated, locked away in his cell on the military base. Spider could hear the adults greeting each other, but it was far away, muffled, drowning in water. Was he drowning in water?

“Spider,” The noise came back to him like breaching the surface of the ocean and he looked up at the towering Na'vi in front of him. “We were worried about you!” He suppressed a flinch as two large hands came to settle heavily upon his shoulders. He felt fit to collapse with the weight of it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

His mouth gaped, he couldn’t think of a suitable enough answer to give so he shrugged. It was a minuscule movement, the only thing he could manage with his healing muscles and Jake’s unmoving appendages. There was a sigh and then Spider was being pulled into a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Jake murmured and  gave him a squeeze. And he must have tried to be gentle but Spider was human and Na’vi were incredibly strong and it was never gentle and Spider always ended up with bruises. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react, learned early on the isolation that came with showing how fragile he really was compared to everyone else. He savored the hug, and then it ended all too soon. “Go pack your stuff, we’ll be leaving soon.” 

Spider staggered back, unbalanced from the loss. His brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” His voice cracked against his will, catching on a single word. It felt so much like choking he had to suppress a cough. His chest jerked with it. “Where are we going?” He tried not to let fear coat his words. 

Jake turned his head, bringing the mask slung by straps around his neck up to his face. He inhaled deeply and his eyes slipped closed for a moment. Spider stood stuck in his surprised position, trapped only until after Jake had finally spoken. Finally told him what would happen to him. 

“We’re going home, Spider.” He said it as if it were obvious, as if this could be the only answer and Spider was stupid for thinking otherwise. But Spider wasn’t stupid.

He laughed, not intending to– it seemed his control over his body left him more and more everyday. It was a rough, self loathing laugh and he shook his head with it. “You’re not serious,” The look on Jake’s face shifted into something akin to confusion, a bit of upset lingered beneath the surface. “How could I live over there?”

It was Jake’s turn to shake his head, hands splayed out in front of him. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“These batteries don’t last a lifetime.” Spider said, gesturing to his mask and the pack at his hip. He could’ve listed off several more reasons why this couldn’t work out, but he figured that alone was self explanatory. 

The Na'vi man gestured vaguely with his hand, a short sweeping motion. “C’mon,” He murmured, turning away and stalking off. “Let’s go pack, I’ll explain everything.” 

It was quiet as they started to pack, but Spider didn’t push. It wasn’t because his curiosity had suddenly left him. It burned at the back of his mind like a wildfire wanting to spread. But he couldn’t for the life of him break the silence. It was too fragile.

And then finally, after they’d packed one bag filled with carefully folded clothing, Jake spoke. He grabbed another sack and started to fill it with Spider’s knickknacks. “I talked with Norm about the logistics of moving you to the Metkayina camp before I made the trip down here.” He picked something up from Spider’s desk and examined it. 

The savage urge to protect his belongings rattled Spider, he was never taught to be possessive over material things. The trinket in Jake’s hold wasn’t even anything especially important to him. But the selfish feeling festered, causing his heart to beat a little faster. He looked away, opting to sit on his bunk and pick at the loose threads on his bed sheets. Would he be taking these too? 

Jake continued to speak. “He’s a lot smarter than me. Most of the things he said I couldn’t repeat to you.” He chuckled, glancing over at Spider. “But I got the important bits.” He tied the bag and sat it next to Spider’s feet, then sat beside him. “You’ll have everything you need. They’ve already packed a container of supplies. Solar powered battery packs,” Jake started to list, tapping the tips of his fingers as he went. “Cannulas to eat; a couple of filters to change into when the used one needs a wash; extra masks. Pretty sure they even packed rations.”

“As for life on the island, you’ll learn to fish. And weave baskets to earn your keep, same as Lo’ak, same as Kiri and Tuk. The olo’eyktan knows about you. So you don’t have to worry about that. And,” Jake gave Spider’s knee a pat and took a quick breath through his mask. “We can contact the base whenever we need to.” 

“I don’t understand,” Spider said suddenly. “Why are you doing all of this?” And he didn’t really want to question it, because finally someone wanted him. But all he could think about was the long time he spent away. Surrounded by people he hated, who hated him. Nobody to rescue him. And he understood, of course he understood. But it still hurt. And he wanted to scream.

Jake must have seen something in his expression, something he hadn’t known he was showing because then Jake sighed. Heavily, exhausted, and suddenly the man in front of him looked a hell of a lot older. The lines on his face deepened and his eyes darkened and his shoulders drooped. It was every bit what the great Toruk Makto wasn’t. A sullen, wearied thing.

“We have a lot of making up to do,” Jake began, voice quiet but strong. “I know that. But,” He turned to face Spider, who sat stricken and looked him in the eyes. “I’d– We’d appreciate it if you gave us the chance to.”

Spider ducked away from Jake’s gaze, feeling anxious with the attention. A moment passed with silence, and he was grateful for it. He couldn’t be too hasty with his answer. A part of him, a spiteful part he wished he could lock away, wanted to tell Jake no. Tell him he’d rather stay on the base with Norm and Max and the others. But it was a lie, and at this moment, Spider couldn’t do that. He knew what answer he needed to give. For himself, for his well being.

“Okay,” The boy whispered, a single nod of his head. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

[chriscrosswallflower-blog]

Alright, spoilers for Heartstopper season 3 ahead, but I need everyone, including @chronicintrovert, to know how much the mental health storyline means to me, now both in the graphic novel and the show. This is going to be a quick, unedited reaction so read at your own risk.

I originally found Heartstopper in the middle of one of the darkest periods of my life. My physical and mental health were terrible and I felt so hopeless about life in general. I ended up going into severe burnout and going into a partial hospitalization program for over 4 months.

During that time, Heartstopper was one of the only things that really brought me comfort and joy. I can't tell you how many times I read the graphic novels and watched the show. The way that it handled mental health is one of the reasons why I found so much comfort in it.

One of the things you hear all the time as a person with a mental illness is that you have too much going for you to be depressed, that if you are just ungrateful. When Charlie's mental health really plummets, he's on top of the world. In his own words, he has a boyfriend that he loves, amazing friends, and he's not being bullied anymore. Things should be fine but they aren't.

Every single time I hear the line "love can't cure mental illness," I break down and cry. When you are in the depths of a mental health crisis, it's like you can see all the people who love you waving from the shore but their words can't reach you. Regardless of how many people love you, you are still having a health crisis and you need medical and/therapeutic intervention, along with the support of your friends and family.

Personally, I have secondary trauma around involuntary hospitalization. The idea of partial hospitalization had been posed to me during a previous mental health crisis but it threw me into a full blown flashback. Almost all you hear about mental hospitals are horror stories, you hardly ever hear about how they help people. I honest-to-god don't know if I would have had the strength to enter that program if I hadn't read about the positive impact that inpatient had on Charlie. It was the first time I had heard a positive narrative about a mental hospital and the first real context I had of the experience.

I was afraid that seeing that play out in more detail in the show would be triggering to me (I'm just a bit over a year out) but instead I felt like it was profoundly healing.

The one line that will always stick with me is when Charlie says that the experience isn't bad - it's hard. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Mustering up the energy to try to heal when you have little to no hope is like pushing a boulder up a mountain. But little by little you get stronger and you build supports for yourself.

And seeing Charlie recover? Reading that gave me hope, but seeing it? It made me realize how far I have come too. Yes, I have bad days (and weeks, and sometimes months), but I'm not drowning anymore. I want to get better and I'm fighting for it every day.

I am so proud of Charlie, which sounds funny - an adult woman being proud of a fictional teenager, but I am. It's inspiring to see that journey play out. And then I realize that if I'm proud of Charlie, I should be proud of myself too - which is a very odd realization because I am very critical of myself and have struggled with a lot of self doubt and loathing since "the breakdown." We've done the work and have come so far.

So I can't say that this plotline won't be triggering for anyone, but I will say that it has been incredibly healing for this mentally ill girl - possibly lifesaving. And for anyone who loves someone who is mentally ill, you NEED to watch this. Both to get a glimpse into what they go through but also the best depiction of how to support them that I have ever seen.

[thedenofravenpuff]

Canes And Worries - Venting

Due to my fibromyalgia, I use a cane for mobility aid. Meant to help me preserve my energy when I go out, the longer I stay on my feet the more it exhausts me even if we only talk minutes.

Even on outings where full fatigue is not a risk, I also have the cane to help adjust my feet and walk properly. I'm hyper flexible in my ankles which has caused some minor issues over the years, but today mixing with the fibro, it has given me an on-off limping I'm very self conscious about. The cane helps me to walk correctly, or when fatigue makes it too hard to hide, the cane makes it excusable to walk weird. Walking with a weird limp without a cane makes me feel judged, while a cane shows it is a medical issue and excuses it.

I don't use the cane in my own home, unless I have guests over that I wish to conceal my limping from, I bring the came where ever I go now, for mentioned above reasons, but aware I don't always NEED it. Working on my self esteem I have been showing trust in family by leaving my cane to the side when visiting them. When not out in public, I'm not as ashamed of my limping.

Additional note, I've never received comments or judgement about my limping, is just my own social anxiety making me so self conscious about it.

But on occasions.. when in the privacy of my own home, I need the cane. I hate when my legs get so weak, that I need a cane to walk a few meters to the kitchen for a glass of water. I hate how the limping ads to my exhaustion from fibro. I hate having to use the cane outside the usual perimeters. Because it shows a growth in my sickness, that I cannot escape.

I fear a day the cane won't be enough. That I'll have to give in, and upgrade to much more visible mobility aid. A walker or wheelchair might be in my future one day. I'm already limited to so much as is, but the further limitations that change will bring..

And recently I was struck by a terrifying realization. Currently I can keep up with friends and family on outings because they are all having children. Pregnant people or adults with infants and toddlers are slowed down significantly, for the needs of their children.

But one day those children will grow up, big enough to set a much faster pace. And I've been struck by the fear of being left behind by then, especially if my conditions still worsens.

I don't seek motivational words or speeches, I don't look for rolemodels 'showing how it's done', that the only limitations of disability is what I set myself and blah blah. There are realities one must face. Not everyone has an ever running spring of will and strength to pull from, ESPECIALLY when disabled.

I can admit I'm afraid without needing being comforted. Is just facing up about parts of my reality so many don't have to face themselves.

I know my family would never leave me behind. So far I've lost no one to my disability, only met understanding and support. I'm not being babied either, as during get togethers they plan for tasks they know I can handle, so I'm still part of everything. I know how lucky I am, having so much support in my life.

It'll never erase the natural fear and worry that comes with limitations and facing up to what one used to take for granted. And what you know people around you still take for granted. It'll never be rid of the mourning one feel, for the life you can no longer live the way you once did.

Just thoughts I felt a need to share. All spurred on by the last couple of days of on-off needing to use my cane in my own home, knowing it's a sign how bad things are getting. But I also know it's not all bad. I still have a stable life, I'm still functional and able to live in my own. The limitations grow, but only ever so slowly, so I'll merely take it as a reminder to enjoy the moments of now.

It's scary to realize the new levels of "normal" to my every day life, compared to the past. But looking too far ahead into an unknown future is no help today.

Thank you for reading, as I share my thoughts.

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Twenty Seven

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: 5,400

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God, it was awkward.

Eva nursed a glass of tequila, her second of the day and it was only ten in the morning. For two hours, she had been sitting there listening to Josh and Alexei argue. They spit point after point at one another, neither of them gaining any ground. Eva hadn’t said a word and was fairly sure that the two men forgot she was even sitting there.

She could have slept in.

“Its two weeks. We can do a lot with two weeks.”

“We could have two months and we wouldn’t be able to hide the mountain of evidence.”

“You’re underestimating us both, Alexei.”

“I’m being rational. Something you’ve failed to achieve lately.”

“I have been perfectly rational. The plan is solid.”

“The plan hinges on getting leverage over a man who has been one step ahead of us the whole time.”

A scoff. A roll of the eyes.

This went on in varying circular parries until Eva ran out of tequila and got up to pour another. On her way back to the couch, Josh finally remembered she was in the room.

“Eva, back me up.”

She looked between the two of them, “I don’t know how you think you’re going to get Diego to give you the contact for his supplier. He hasn’t budged on anything you’ve thrown at him so far.”

Alexei was smug, “See?”

Josh held up a finger, “That’s because I hadn’t perfected my technique. I’ve made improvements since then.”

“You mean since he tossed Eva aside like day old garbage?”

“Hey!” Eva cut in, offended.

Alexei shrugged, “Its true. You’ve tried to tempt him twice already. What makes you think he’ll take the next round of bait?”

Josh smiled, “Third times the charm.”

“Oh, please!” Alexei groaned, “This is not the time to play games.”

Eva tipped back her glass and emptied it. She went to pour another only to be sidelined by Josh. He snatched the glass from her and went around the bar to pour what looked like seltzer. She frowned at him, but took the drink and went back to her spot on the couch.

“I’m not playing games,” Josh snipped at Alexei, “I have it on good authority that Diego beat the ever loving shit out of someone that night.”

The seltzer she was sipping had a faint hint of salt in it. She thought about tossing it out, but didn’t want to instigate further ranting from Josh. He was in rare form. All his swagger, all his smooth congeniality was stripped back. It left him red faced and sweating, disheveled in a way that he would normally never allow.

Whose ass did Horacio kick that night? Eva tried to remember if his knuckles were bruised when he met her at the church. Her mind supplied an image of him sitting in the confessional, legs spread comfortably and not a hair out of place. It was a fair difference from what he looked like later, in the car.

Hair mussed. Breathing hard.

“Which authority?” Alexei demanded, “Who?”

Josh shrugged, “I have my sources.”

“Fuck your sources,” Alexei bit out, “We have an emergency on our hands. You have been hiding things from me for months and I am tired. I want to know everything you know and I want to know it now.”

Her husband rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar, “You’re getting soft, Alexei.”

Within one heartbeat and the next, Alexei had Josh snatched up by the collar and was speaking directly into his face in Russian. Eva understood absolutely none of it. What she did understand was the fear that slowly dragged across Josh’s face. The threat—it had to be a threat—was remarkably effective.

“I pay one of his security guys to let me know what he’s doing. The meetings he takes. Anything they can tell me,” Josh said.

The hair on her neck and arms rose in cold fear. Had Josh’s inside man been watching? Had they seen her with Horacio?

“He’s slippery,” Josh continued, “and secretive. But, my guy managed to get inside after we lost that shipment. Someone put it on the table that we might be playing with them and that we might not play with them if they had a little collateral.”

He nodded subtly towards Eva. She stilled, made her face remain neutral so as to give nothing away.

Alexei’s fists clenched, “And?”

Josh shrugged, “Diego cut it down. Said anyone who touched ‘the wife’ would lose a hand.”

Eva’s brain made a kind of ‘huh’ sound while she tried not to smile.

Letting go of Josh, Alexei wiped a hand across his face, “That’s what you’re basing this on?”

“Oh, come on,” Josh exclaimed with a wide sweep of his hand, “You’ve seen how he looks at her. He’s even threatened to kidnap her. Twice. Clearly, he’s got a thing for Birdie—although I can’t understand why.”

She sighed, irritated that he could still get that old barb in even after everything that had happened. It didn’t really matter that he was right—Horacio did have a thing for her. What mattered was that Josh thought he was right and nothing Alexei could say could convince him otherwise.

“Alright,” Alexei relented, “Why does it matter? We can get leverage another way.”

“It matters,” Josh enunciated, “because he pretends he doesn’t—scoffs at the idea, even. That fucking Mexican thinks he’s better than me. I won’t have it.”

Alexei covered his face with his hands and took a slow breath. Then, “Josh, we have bigger things to worry about than your ego.”

No shit, Eva thought while she silently sipped at the seltzer.

“That’s the beauty of it,” Josh asserted with light blooming in his eyes, “I can get what I need from Diego and knock him off his high horse. Its a two-for.”

Jesus Christ.

Dropping his hands to his hips, Alexei shook his head, “I’m going to go clean house. You stay here and play your little games, if you want. See how far that gets you.”

Eva watched Josh watch his best friend walk out of the room and almost felt sorry for him. He looked like a kicked puppy, floppy ears and all. Alexei was right, though. Josh was playing games that were going to get him into a hell of a lot of trouble. Even if he knew all the rules, his opponent had an ace up his sleeve and a stacked deck.

Josh straightened his collar and smoothed the fabric of his shirt. He briefly fiddled with the ring on his pinky. Then, he squared his shoulders and went to the bar to pour a drink into the family crystal. Bourbon in hand, he schooled his expression and visibly calmed himself.

“What time is it?”

Eva blinked, “What?”

“The time,” Josh demanded.

She glanced at the clock, “Ten thirty.”

“Good. Go put on a dress.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

He shook his head, “No. We’ll stay right here and wait for Diego.”

Eva flinched, “Why is Mr. Jimenez coming here?”

“Quit asking such stupid questions and go put on a fucking dress!”

She set her glass down and went upstairs.

In her closet, Eva went over the options. Knowing that Horacio was coming over made her decide against the more modest selections. It would play right into Josh’s hands, but Eva wanted to be noticed. Not just by Horacio, but by the man he was pretending to be.

Her hands stalled on a Bob Mackie halter dress in a shining teal.

Perfect.

Dress on and hair fluffed, Eva padded back downstairs in her bare feet. She entered The Lounge and took four steps into the room. Josh looked at her and gave a nod. Outfit approved.

As she passed him, he held out another seltzer water, “I need you sober.”

Eva’s mouth turned down, but she took the glass and sat on the couch. She would sip at it often enough to keep him happy, but no amount of rationing the water was going to keep her buzz going. She could feel it fading away with every ticking second and resented Josh for it all the more.

It was the acrid burn of that resentment that made Eva speak, “Alexei’s right, Josh. This isn’t going to work. He’s not interested in trading sex with me for information.”

“He is.”

“Maybe he just has a,” she searched for the word, “moral code, or something. Like, no women or children.”

Josh rolled his eyes and pulled out a pill bottle, “No man with his kind of reputation has a moral code.”

“I’m just saying that you’ve tried this twice already and it hasn’t worked. I think you need to consider that you might be wrong and its a waste of time.” A breath, “We have serious problems that we need to take care of right now.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he yelled, “You don’t think I know that we’ve got federal fucking agents just waiting for the green light to dig through my entire business, a business that I’ve worked my whole life to build?”

Eva was silent, but held his stare. She wasn’t bothered by the explosion of anger or the way he gripped the glass in his hand hard enough that it might shatter.

“I’ve got the formula and once we get the supplier, we can hold the entire fucking country hostage if we want.”

This did scare her.

Josh had an ego the size of the entire state of Louisiana, but he was usually smart enough to know when he needed to take a step back and be strategic. Ardent Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t be anywhere near as big as it was, if he didn’t. She didn’t understand where this recklessness had come from, but it was driving the path of his decision making right off a cliff.

“You’re not going to get far enough into manufacturing if you’re in jail, Josh.”

He scoffed and swallowed down the pill in his hand, “This whole thing will be held up in court for years. By the time it goes to jury trial, we’ll already be out of reach.”

Her brows drew together, “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he answered, “that I’m moving our production out of the country.”

Eva repeated the last four words slowly, her brain trying to figure out his meaning.

Josh held out his hands, palm up, “Why work so hard to get product across the border when I can build a factory right next door.”

“Next door?”

“In Mexico, Eva.”

Mexico.

Josh thought the product was coming from Mexico—because he thought Diego was from Mexico. Eva hoped she was there when he got punched in the face with the truth.

“What about all your other plans?” she asked, “The house? The renovations? We already paid the deposit for the contractors.”

He shrugged, “We’ll sell it.”

We’ll sell it.

Her home. He would sell it. Just like that.

Eva took a long drink from her glass to keep the venom on her tongue at bay, “Alright. What’s this new plan you have? Tell me how you’re going to get Diego to give you what you want.”

“Same plan as last time.”

“You mean the plan that didn’t work.”

“Okay, the same plan as the time before that.”

“So, the plan that also didn’t work.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “I told you, already. I perfected my technique.”

She didn’t give a fuck what he perfected.

“No.”

Eva was not going to go through that again. He thought the serum was safe before he injected it and it led to her passing out three feet from where she sat. She wasn’t going to allow him to put more poison into her veins.

“No?”

“No,” Eva repeated, “I’m not doing it. You can go get one of your mistresses to go along with your plan, but I won’t.”

She didn’t know if she had ever directly refused one of Josh’s requests—she certainly hadn’t with near as much ice in her tone. Her words made him draw back, incredulous.

“The fuck do you mean, no?”

“I mean no,” she said as she stood and set her glass on the coffee table. “Do whatever you want, but leave me out of it.”

Josh lifted a brow, “Its a bit late for that.”

“What?”

“I. Perfected. My. Technique,” he bit out, “We ran more tests. Injecting the serum causes the body to metabolize it too quickly, so we slowed it down by changing the route of administration. Ingesting it works much better.”

Eva crossed her arms, “I’m not taking any pills.”

That seemed to perk him up, “See, we thought about that, too. Turns out pills metabolize too slowly. We found that the best way to administer is sublingual.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” she shot back, “I’m not taking it.”

“Oh, Birdie,” he drawled, “You already have.”

Eva didn’t understand—anything. She didn’t understand why route of administration mattered, or the creepy smile on his face, or why he was looking at her like that.

Josh ran out of patience, “For as smart as you are, you are so dumb.”

“Oh, shove it up your ass!”

He set his bourbon casually on the bar and walked up to her, “It doesn’t matter what you say you will or won’t do because you’ve already done it. You’ve been drinking the serum for the last half hour.”

Eva was horrified—physically paralyzed by the feeling.

Josh grasped her shoulders, “It was diluted, but I compensated with a stronger dose. You’re already feeling the effects and you didn’t even notice.”

She was going to kill him. Beat him to death with her bare hands.

Flying forward, Eva nearly knocked Josh off his feet with the force of her attack. She might have screamed, but her ears were filled with adrenaline and the roar of blood. Eva knew she caught him off guard because she got a couple good hits in before he was able to grab her arms and push her away. She stumbled, regained her footing, and went at him again.

Josh shoved her hard enough that she knocked into the wall near the door. He slapped away her fists and curled both hands around her neck. The pressure cut off her air, but Eva had so much fury raging inside her that she started scratching and kicking. Short, blunt nails dug into his face and arms for about thirty seconds before her lungs began to burn.

It was only when she stopped fighting that he loosened his hold so that she could breathe. Eva gasped and choked until the spots in her vision cleared. Then, because she still pretty pissed off, she cast Josh a baleful glare.

“If you ever,” he punctuated the last word by slamming her head against the wall, “do that again. I’ll knock you into next week. Clear?” When she didn’t answer fast enough, he choked her again and leaned close, “Clear?”

Her nod was limited by the hands that hadn’t stopped squeezing.

“If you’re going to make me come to a meeting at this unholy hour, you should at least answer your—,” Horacio came strolling down the hall. He stopped in front of the door, “Should I come back later?”

Josh sniffed, “No. We were just having a disagreement. But, I think its cleared up now, right?”

She fucking hated that he sounded so calm, even with scratches marring his face. Eva’s jaw was clenched, but she nodded.

“See? All better.”

He let her go and Eva had to lean against the wall so that she didn’t crumple to the floor.   Smoothing his hand down his shirt, Josh invited Horacio further into the room. Dark eyes glanced at Eva, but said nothing as he passed by. Behind him, Javier was less subtle about his distaste. His curled lip had to be wiped away by a palm moving across his face.

Eva stood there for a while, listening to the pleasantries. She thought she might be able to get away with standing there all afternoon, but Josh called her name. She glared at him and he glared back.

The battle of wills was short lived, “Don’t be rude, Birdie.”

She took her time walking around the back of the couch and sitting.

“Please,” Josh said, inviting Horacio to take a seat on the opposite side of the couch Eva was currently sitting on.

Horacio sat with an easy movement. On the surface, he looked utterly undisturbed by the clear tension in the room.

Javier demurred, preferring to remain near the bar. He poured a drink for himself and settled in to observe from a distance.

Relaxing into the cushions, Horacio asked, “What do you want?”

“Right to the point,” Josh replied with a smile, “I like that.” Then, “I have another proposition for you.”

Horacio made a sound of interest and motioned with his hand for Josh to continue.

Josh leaned forward, “I’ve perfected the serum. Its ready for market.”

“I’ve heard this before.”

“I thought you might say that, so I have, once again, enlisted my lovely wife to act as a demonstration.”

Eva rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, looking anywhere but at the men in the room. She felt Horacio stare at her from two cushions over. He was quiet, possibly waiting for her to do or say something. She was too angry to give him the satisfaction.

“You must not care much for your wife’s life,” he commented, with levity. “The last demonstration went...bad.”

Josh’s laugh was like glass in her ears, “Yes. I admit I got a bit over my skis last time. But, we’ve done more tests and this batch is perfectly safe.”

More silence.

“When will we see the effects?”

During her sullen silence, the pounding in her head receded. Eva would have been grateful if another, more pressing pain wasn’t becoming apparent. Her belly cramped, tugged downwards. Her mouth went dry, her tongue felt heavy. Goosebumps appeared on her arms and chest.

She crossed her legs to relieve the discomfort of her swelling arousal. Unwelcome as it was, it only exacerbated her anger. The two feelings became entwined. They fed on one another, coiling tighter and tighter until a tremor washed over her whole body.

And, above all, she smelled him.

Tobacco. Vetiver. Alpha. Horacio.

Eva didn’t know how long she had been taking deep gulps of air, but she felt like she could taste him all the way down into her bones. She knew she wasn’t going to keep herself from him, was frustrated that she might give Josh exactly what he wanted. A soft whimper left her lips as she bent forward at the waist and buried her head in her hands.

“Is it supposed to make her cry?”

Eva lifted a hand and flipped him the bird.

His laugh made the muscles of her thighs clench together and a fresh wave of heat roll through her. Eva rocked back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, willing herself to remain still. Every instinct she had was telling her that her alpha was right there and he would take care of her. All the need swirling around in her core could be stoked to a raging storm that she knew would devour them both.

“I’d like to take a sample to test for myself,” Horacio said in a matter of fact tone.

“Of course!” Josh replied, “I have some in my safe. Let me go get that for you.”

Knowing that she had a very small window to communicate with Horacio away from her husband, Eva tracked him through the room and waited until the tell tale creak of the second stair to start talking.

“He knows about the warrant. Alexei is working to hide the evidence,” she blurted in a low voice. “There’s a woman in your building named Bobbi Lynn who has papers to get me out of the country.” Eva looked at Horacio, “I know you told me not to make moves, but you have to understand that Josh—.”

He leaned over and touched her arm, “Slow down. Are you okay?”

“No,” she rasped, “How could you think—?”

“Yes, I know,” he cut her off again with a sneer, “If I shoot him, we lose our whole case.”

Eva nodded woodenly, “He’s got someone on the inside who has been feeding him information about you. I don’t know who.”

“I know,” he repeated. Then, “Is he planning on trying to get my supplier by…”

He trailed off, but she knew what he meant.

“Yes.”

A low, rumbling growl sounded from his chest. Eva stared at him, waiting for whatever reaction she was going to get. She should have expected what came next.

“Do you remember what I said about making him regret it?”

God, but she did. Eva remembered very clearly what Horacio said he would do. Unable to form words around the anticipation that swelled in her chest, she nodded.

“Any objections?”

“Not a fucking one.”

One side of his mouth lifted. He was pleased. The thought, my Alpha is pleased, went through her head and Eva didn’t even try to fight it. She stared at him, taking in the warmth of his eyes and the plush mouth that she desperately wanted to kiss.

“We can’t kill him,” Javier intoned from the bar.

Horacio, still staring at Eva, replied, “I don’t plan to.”

“Well, I might,” Javier shot back, “He’s fucking annoying.”

Eva smirked and tossed over her shoulder, “Try living with him.”

“You’re a saint.”

The second stair creaked again.

Tearing her eyes from Horacio was difficult. She only managed it by digging her nails hard into her palm. In her periphery, she could see that Horacio wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t thinking about dragging her across the couch and into his lap.

Josh swung around the edge of the couch, all smiles, “Here we are!”

A small, air tight bottle was placed on the coffee table. It was unlabeled and looked like something she might pick up at the grocery. Not a single person outside of the four of them would ever know the danger that lay inside.

“Best to put it under the tongue,” Josh offered as he sat on the couch opposite of Horacio.

Or mixed into a drink, Eva thought venomously.

Javier pushed from the bar and walked over to pluck the bottle from the table. He pocketed it and resumed his position. A quiet, vaguely irritated, guard.

“What is your proposition?” Horacio asked, despite knowing full well what Josh wanted.

“I have enough of that serum to make about half a million dollars within the first thirty days of sale,” Josh began. “I’ll give you fifteen percent if you’ll set up a meeting between myself and the man who helps you source your raw material.”

Horacio tossed his head and laughed, “Fifteen percent is not enough for that.”

“With respect,” Josh said, “its a lot of money.”

“It will destroy my future returns. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re aiming for.”

Eva tuned out while they argued back and forth. The Lounge around her became blurry—no, it was her periphery. Eva’s eyes could only focus on a radius of about three feet. Everything else contracted down to the burn of heat and the pull of the man sitting too far away.

“I think your wife is going to have another seizure,” Javier muttered.

She realized that she was rocking back and forth, trying to get any kind of stimulation that would soothe her frazzled nerves. Her hands were twisting together, palms rubbing harshly. Every breath was audible.

“That’s normal,” Josh said with a careless wave of his hand, “between stage one and two.”

Horacio turned his attention to her, “Doesn’t look like a heat, Doctor Moore.”

Josh hummed, “It will. In a minute or two.”

It was going to get worse?

Eva already felt awash with not enough and too much sensation. Her pussy was dripping and no amount of pressure would satisfy the emptiness that wanted to be filled. Every inch of her felt fever hot. Sweat formed in the hollow of her throat and the crease of her hips.

Beside her, Horacio was dubious, “You think this is going to fool an alpha?”

Josh, ever the asshole, laughed, “I do, indeed, Mr. Jimenez.” Then, “Why don’t you go one and get a good smell of her?”

She heard Horacio suck his teeth derisively, “I can smell her from here.”

Could he?

Could he smell all the hormones races through her bloodstream? The slick coating the inside of her thighs? Could he sense the sheer force of will Eva was exerting to keep the heat at bay?

“Nah,” Josh drawled, “Get in close. I’m telling you she’ll smell like the real thing.”

Unable to help it, Eva chanced a look at Horacio. He was studying her closely. The hand on his thigh flexed and he ran his thumb up the length of his finger in thought. Eva knew the feeling of that hand. Knew what he could do with it.

She shivered.

“Either you do it, or I will,” Javier grunted.

The sound of liquor pouring was loud in the silence. Horacio took the time to cut a glance at his partner before he swiveled towards her.

“Come here,” he ordered in a low voice.

Eva obeyed. Biting her lip hard, she closed the distance between them until their knees were touching. Horacio reached out and pushed her hair back away from her neck with one hand. The other grasped her jaw to turn her head.

She flinched. Sucked in a pained breath as her body remembered Josh’s hands around her neck.

“Lo siento,” he whispered, fingers loosening to rest carefully against bruised skin.

Horacio leaned in close. She shuddered as she was surrounded by his scent, had to ground herself by wrapping her fingers around his wrist. His cheek brushed hers and heat bloomed from the contact.

Eva closed her eyes against the beginning of defeat. His inhale was deep and it was followed by an almost inaudible groan. She turned her face and pressed her cheek against his, enjoying the way the five o’ clock shadow scratched. Her mouth ran down his jaw so that she could catch his lips.

The kiss would have been fucking amazing if Josh hadn’t said, “Told you. Stage two.”

Horacio jerked away, “Its convincing.”

Convincing.

Eva scowled at him. He was far, far too calm—all smooth exterior when she was cracking apart inside. She no longer gave a fuck about giving in to Josh’s plan, not even that he was still in the room and watching the pair of them with his stupid, stupid eyes. Eva was going to even the playing field.

Quick-like, so that he didn’t have a chance to react, Eva got her feet underneath her and then she got Horacio underneath her. His body accommodated Eva, adjusting so that she could sit astride his thighs. She liked that his hands fell naturally to her hips, liked the little involuntary sound he made in that back of his throat.

“Oh, brava!” Josh crowed, “Very good, Birdie.”

She ignored him, focusing on running her hands up Horacio’s chest. Wrist rotating, she caught the chain that constantly hung around his neck and used it to tug him forward. Eyes unfocused, Horacio let her guide him until they were about an inch apart. He was struggling to control his breathing and his scent had sharpened with arousal. If she worked her hips forward, Eva knew he would be hard for her.

“You know what?” Josh cut in, “I’ll sweeten the deal. You set up the meeting and I’ll give you fifteen percent and you can have whatever you want from her.”

What about what she wanted?

The fog in Horacio’s eyes cleared and was replaced with first anger and then cool calculation. He applied a little pressure to her side so that he could look past her. Eva curled her hands over his shoulders and shifted her weight.

“I’m not giving you the name of my supplier.”

Josh scoffed, “Any other alpha would be champing at the bit to knot an omega.”

Horacio shrugged, “Right now, I don’t think I would need your permission to fuck your wife.”

As he spoke, his hands caressed down her thighs and back up again. They slipped beneath the hem of her dress until it caught on his wrists.

“You do if you want to leave this house alive.”

The hammer of a revolver was pulled back.

Horacio’s hands flexed, but he remained still, “I think you’ll find that my friend over there disagrees.”

She didn’t have to look to know that Javier was pointing a gun at Josh. Besides, Eva was more focused on rubbing her thumb over the swollen gland behind Horacio’s ear. It throbbed at her touch, letting her know how much he was holding back.

“Looks like we have a real life Mexican stand-off.”

Did he have to sound so God damned pleased?

Annoyed, Eva leaned forward and laved her tongue over Horacio’s gland. She moaned at the taste of a man soaking in arousal and fighting it tooth and nail. Lips wrapped around it, Eva sucked at the soft, inflamed skin.  

Horacio’s big body shuddered. One arm wrapped around her waist and secured Eva to his chest. The other remained where it was, fingernails digging into her thigh.

“You’re not brave enough to pull the trigger,” he managed around a choked groan.

A shift of fabric against fabric, “I guess we’ll both find out.”

Eva was squished against Horacio’s chest, which was fine—except she didn’t have a lot of room to move. Which she very much wanted to do. His hips were pressed hard against her—and, she was fucking right. Eva wiggled against the hard on trapped behind the fly of his jeans, trying to get a little more pressure on her aching clit.

“I’ll take thirty percent,” Horacio rasped, “and whatever the fuck I want from her. Deal?”

A beat of silence, then, “You’ll set up the meeting?” When Horacio nodded, Josh released the hammer on the revolver. “Thirty percent, then.”

“And?” Horacio drawled, with meaning.

“Do whatever you want to her.”

The muscles in Horacio’s body tightened and his chest vibrated with a dangerous purr. Eva let him guide her so that she sat, upright, in his lap. His thumb swiped across her bottom lip and she caught it between her teeth. He pushed it forward and laid it across her tongue.

Horacio leaned forward to speak over her shoulder, “I told you I would make you regret it.”

Eva barely comprehended what he was saying before Horacio pulled his thumb from her mouth with a wet pop. He held her in a firm grip and, without any further warning, sank blunt teeth into her gland.

There was a lot of screaming.

Josh screamed in rage. Javier in warning.

Eva…

Eva screamed in white hot pleasure. The orgasm that rocketed through her was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It scored her from the inside, out, leaving devastation in its wake. She was incoherent, writhing helplessly against her alpha while he growled against her neck. Her cunt clenched on empty space, wanting nothing more than to sink down onto a knot.

Euphoric and punch-drunk, Eva collapsed into Horacio’s arms. He cradled her close, held almost all of her weight aloft. Already his scent was changing, taking on little bits of her own. From now until her next heat, Eva would smell like him, too. She didn’t mind it at all.

“I’m going to kindly ask you to leave my house.”

Horacio was breathing hard. He wasn’t moving.

From close by, Javier said, “Its time to go, Diego.” Then, “We’ll be expecting our thirty percent.”

Eva was barely conscious while Horacio gently placed her onto the couch cushions. She whined at the loss, but was too weak to make any attempt to draw him back.

Syncopated footsteps moved away from her.

She curled in on herself as her body cooled. Shivered. Eva knew she wasn’t going to move from that spot for a long time. She rested with the scent of Horacio permanently etched into her skin.

[drknowledge]

DRKNOWLEDGE' independent and highly selective Veritas Ratio from Honkai Starrail. canon divergent -    headcanon    based      / Game base mutually exclusive and highly triggered content . mun and muse are 29 + read guidelines before any interaction. written by Yang ( she / her )

Card tba! || About || Verses || Rules undercut for now.

muse does not = mun.   PLEASE keep that in mind. My muses can be assholes, doesn’t mean I am! 

I AM A MUTUALS ONLY BLOG. It just helps me keep track of everything and I do use a Mutuals Tracker. So if you unfollow I’m gonna know, so I am just going to unfollow.

I DO NOT deal with Drama. Send me hate?  Don’t. That's it. keep it simple. We aren't here for it at all. i'm far to tired to deal with any drama.

Shipping: Multiship - Mult-verse. I am a shipping whore. If you wanna ship, come at me, please I’m always open to ship with my muses.

I am over 29 years old! I am an adult and I would prefer everyone to act like one. Unless something silly things happens. I tag all my stuff. Nsfw / drug use / blood ---everything. If you NEED ME to tag something away, I will gladly do it. I don’t bite, I rather people be comfortable on my blog.

I prefer Plotting / talking on Discord since it’s easier to see for me. But again I don’t mind IM’s so much. I am just normally slower. I also do Role play on Discord so don’t ever be scared to ask to do so on mine. Otherwise random stuff I really do love as well.

I AM CROSSOVER / OC friendly. So I welcome all fandoms, even if I barely know them. I like to hear and HELL maybe even go ahead and jump in that fandom with people. I like learning and whatnot.

I'm really a relaxed person. So don't worry I don't bite.

anyway, I might add more! but for now ♥

[dingoat]

XXXXXX <_<

FINALLY I am done with these, have SIX REPRESSED MEMORIES for SIX CROSSES.

[Fair warning to all, there is lots of trauma and death in these memories so read ahead at your own discretion >.> The first couple are probably the worst, werewolf au has a lot of angsty times for everyone involved. Feel free to ping me if you'd rather know what you're getting into before reading!]

x - [Before he was Five] 

The night before, they’d stayed up late, conspiring in the fort in whispers that were too loud, overstimulated and giddy for the day to come. Excited in the way that only children ever could be, knowing each other’s hearts the way that twins often would. That morning, they’d been sitting beside one another, halfway through the excruciating torment of being primped and polished to meet their parents’ expectations, her hair full of ribbons (she actually didn’t mind the ribbons), his cheeks dusted unnecessarily into a permanent rosy blush (he wished he didn’t have to), but going through the process together always made it a little easier. Two hours ago, they’d bowed and curtsied their way through an endless parade of polite greetings and welcomes and displays of thanks; one hour ago, they’d snuck away with their arms full of food to share and feast on away from prying eyes, using their fingers and wiping dusted sugar off on their knees without their mother’s judgement or father’s disdain to spoil their simple joy.

Half an hour ago they’d been explorers, climbing trees and pressing their way through hedges, because even if the event was supposed to be for them there was no hiding the fact that it was really for the adults, to smile with too many teeth and compliment one another in ways that left each other feeling terrible. They weren’t missed, and they made the day theirs anyway.

Ten minutes ago, they’d found a way into their neighbours’ menagerie, and were enthralled by the beasts they’d never been allowed to see up close before.

Five minutes ago, she’d strayed too close.

Five.

Four minutes ago, the sounds must have been his, because his sister could no longer make them.

It would take another ten minutes for anyone to find him, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was ten or ten thousand. No matter how forcefully he pushed those wretched minutes from his mind, he would never be the same.

x - [Wolf, trained by the Spheres]

“Don’t settle! DON’T.”

Her blunt claws scrabbled against the duracrete floor as she tried to put some distance between herself and the source of pain, but there was no escaping it, there was never escaping it, even though it was hard, it was so hard hard hard hard to stop her body from shifting completely, it was so hard hard hard hard to force herself back in the other direction. The pain only made it worse, that vile pulse that knocked the breath out of her and left her head throbbing. It made it so hard to concentrate so hard to know what to do, so hard to listen and press herself out of synchrony with the song of the moon but she had to, she had to or he’d make it happen again–

“What did I SAY?”

She yelped as her body felt as though it was pummelled from the inside and she stumbled and smacked her chin against the ground, biting her tongue as stars blossomed in her field of view. She wanted to she wanted to he was mad, she could smell it he was mad and she didn’t want to make him mad, it was just so hard so hard so hard to learn what she was supposed to but she’d never be a good girl if she couldn’t do what she was supposed to.

On her feet again, she scrambled to the far wall and flattened against it, ears pinned right back, eyes screwed shut, and she tried, she tried, she tried.

x - [Wolf under the Spheres]

She’d perfected it, so much so that the faint tickle of discord in her veins was something of a comfort, so much so that she no longer had to think about it. Her body naturally fell into an unfinished state, it recoiled against the idea of being in harmony with the moon.

It didn’t matter what exactly was left unfinished, certainly her Man didn’t mind if her ears were a little too long or her tail a little too short, he didn’t care about the exact width of her muzzle so long as her teeth were still good and long and sharp. But she enjoyed having a little more grasp to her paws, strong dew claws that she could flex and grip, digits that she could curl into the earth as she ran, paws shaped all the better to hold her prey. And so that was the state her body came to know as correct, that was the point to which she shifted when the moon rose and the crisp night welcomed her. To settle in full would be the greater effort now, to be a pure wolf was unthinkable, it made her flinch to even consider it. She huffed, her breath forming a cloud in the cool air, and padded out into the street.

When a fresh new pain bloomed in her mind, it was the type she knew how to silence, the type her long sessions with her Man had taught her how to focus on and deal with.

Eyes ablaze, she ran, and the alien in soft beige robes carrying a glittering blue light didn’t have time to comprehend what was coming her way.

The alien pushed defensively toward her, and she flashed her teeth with a wolf’s silent laughter as she rebuked, turning the push back upon its caster. There was just a moment of shock in the alien’s eyes as she started to piece together what she was dealing with, but that realisation wasn’t enough to prevent everything ending in blood.

x - [Wolf under Nines]

She liked the way she was just allowed to run now, sometimes. It wasn’t always killing, it wasn’t always the pain and the noise and the hunt hunt hunt until the pain was gone.

Sometimes, like tonight, she was just allowed to bask in the glow of the moon and feel the wind ruffle her fur, to watch the little clouds form in front of her face as she panted, warm with joyous exertion.

Never before, though, had she picked up that scent on the breeze, in the grass, and her heart leapt inexplicably when she detected it, when she recognised it.

It’s like me, like me. Smells like me.

She tilted her muzzle upward, little huffs and snuffs as she worked out the direction, stepping in slow circles. It wasn’t wolf that she smelled, not exactly, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. A little more musky, but that spice was undeniable, that unique little peculiarity that she knew belonged to herself, and to some of her earliest days of training.

The smell meant friend.

It didn’t occur to her that now that she had escaped from that life, that what was once a friend may well now be an enemy. Her thoughts and cares were all far too immediate to consider anything like that.

The smell meant friend, the smell was someone never ever ever to bare her teeth at.

Where was he? Who was he?

The grass rippled, and she spun, and dropped into a play-bow, splaying her front legs across the grass.

Where are you, where are you? Will you run? Will you play?

x - [Wolf under Five]

Death, again.

It had come back to this. It would always come back to this.

The body she dragged, clamped in her jaws, had been somebody. Dimly, she was aware that this was a whole life she had ended, but the concern over whether or not the death was warranted was no longer hers.

She’d given up her words, and with them, her soul.

A new face to whisper those words, to grin his loth-cat grin as she became still and calm and perfectly obedient. Bound to those words, and so, to his command.

She’d given up her words freely, because she’d proven that she couldn’t be trusted, could never be trusted, not even with those she held most dear. Not even with those who filled her heart, who’d made her believe, for a small while at least, that freedom was worth pursuing.

She was a monster, fit only to be bound and caged.

The body was heavy in her jaws, but it did not weigh on her nearly so much as the grief she carried on her shoulders. There was no joy to be found, when he told her how well she’d done. She could smell his savage delight, his excitement, but she shared none of it. She could see the triumph in his eyes, a man risen victorious over his own personal lifelong challenge, even if she could not know the cause for his all consuming desire for control. His desperate desire to never know the pain of his youth again.

Oh, how she hated him.

She laid the kill at his feet, and turned her back on him to clean her muzzle and her paws. She hoped he would speak the words again soon, and spare her the pain of a mind clear enough to know regret.

x - [Ahuska under Tython’s masters]

Day by day, she came to know the temple grounds and their surrounds better, in the time she was given to herself. To relax, to study, to explore… sometimes she wished for more direction, sometimes she wished for more teaching, because surely the faster she learned, the sooner she could actually make some useful headway toward…

She paused, twisting to look over her shoulder and watch the way he nosed through the long grass, his elegant little body always so silent as he slipped his way across the landscape.

Sometimes it was hard to imagine he’d ever been anything else.

She had to help him.

She gritted her teeth and moved on, wanting to find somewhere peaceful and private, somewhere away from the temple that seemed to grow noisier by the day, though now she knew it was because her ability to sense life through the Force was developing at a faster rate than her ability to do anything useful about focusing or walling herself off.

It seemed like the more acutely aware of the Force and its endless possibilities she became, the more overwhelming it all was. She’d been warned endlessly that her own impatience, her desperate need to see progress, was actually hampering her ability to achieve any of what she chased, but setting those fierce desires aside was a task unto itself.

Her feet picked out a trail, a thinning of the grasses that grew tall between the conifers, and-

Creatures made this trail, in the earliest hours of the morning. I’d been good, up until this point, letting the Masters know that I wanted to get up in the dark to see them pass through the courtyard. A family of slinky little beasts with fur that looked almost silvery in the moonlight, with webbed feet and huge bushes of whiskers at the ends of their blunt snouts. The little ones bit and snorted at each other as they followed their parents, but when one of them noticed me watching, where I sat at the edge of the fountain, it squeaked and darted to the adults, moving along with its whole body pressed along one of the grown beast’s flanks.

When they started to vanish from view, I decided to be a little less good, because I wanted to watch them just a little longer. I wanted to see where they travelled from, maybe even where they denned. I wanted to reach out gently through the Force, and see if there was anything they wanted to offer back. My bare feet followed their trail, where their nightly passage thinned the grass, weaving through the woods and down a muddy little slide into a gently flowing river.

She gasped, and froze, not knowing where the memory came from or why such a thing would feel so real. She’d never been to Tython before. Perhaps, if the memory had come from the wolf, she’d have a whole slew of questions that at least made sense to ask. As it was, she turned to make her own trail through the grasses, not wanting to see the river that she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, would be there waiting if she carried on.

Ridiculous. I’ve never been to Tython before. Certainly not to watch wildlife when I was a little girl. I’m from Ruweln.

She would find somewhere else. Somewhere that wouldn’t distract her with foolish fantasies. And she would try to clear her mind and listen to the Force.