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rxzennia · 1 year ago

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with love, happy birthday

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 happy (late) birthday, kakavasha. somewhat established relationship, pet names, aventurine’s real name, sleepy/ affectionate aventurine who’s probably very ooc. a quick one (i lied, this is like 2k worth of yapping and its 12am) because i was busy playing the update and haven’t been writing at all; i hope i did his lore justice ;-;

kakavasha stirs as the sun shines in his face. weird, doesn’t he usually have an alarm set? or, at the very least, don’t you usually wake him up?

he feels around the bed for you, but his hand lands on smooth scales instead of you. when he reaches further, he grabs a handful of sheets, and he realizes you’ve gotten up before him and left a few of your serpents with him. he sits up with a yawn, his hand subconsciously seeking out the creature curled up into a ball next to him.

“mm, where’s your…” kakavasha takes a moment to find a word to describe you, and he very quickly gives up. it’s too early for this. “where’s your main body?”

main body…? i mean, he was almost going to say “host”, like… possessed host? parasite host?

the serpent makes a little noise as it opens and closes its maw

drooling, as usual, as it hangs around his hand

does it even understand him?

it does. just needed a moment to comprehend

it slithers up his torso and settles around his neck after doing a few loops

he used to be horrified because your serpents are, like, huge, and what if they decide to strangle him???

but he knows by now that they’re friendly and won’t hurt him

it tries to guide him to you by tugging on either the right or the left sides as he gets out of bed

he finds himself outside of your office… is this where you’ve been?

he lifts his hand to knock, but then he hears you; you seem to be on the phone?

“thank you. then i will leave it to you,” you say, in your typical detached business voice. you glance towards the door when kakavasha enters without knocking, your eyes softening almost immediately at his disheveled appearance of having just gotten out of bed.

you wave him over; he doesn’t hesitate to settle in your lap and snuggle up against you. the serpent around his neck moves over around yours as well and finds itself a nice position there, essentially tying you two together. kakavasha watches as you spin the pen in your hand idly as you listen to whoever you’re talking to, and he admires you as you work – you’re so different when you’re serious! which makes how sweetly you treat him all the more special to him.

“of course, rest assured,” you answer, to whatever question the other party asked, “yes, a quick rundown report will do. is that all?”

it seems that is, indeed, all, as you end the call and practically slam the phone back onto its stand.

you wrap your arms around him and rubs your nose against his exposed collarbone

this man never uses the buttons on his pajamas properly

“honey?” you ask, using the pet name you have for him as both a tease an an endearment

“do i not have plans today?” he slurs a little, he’s still not quite up yet. “my alarm didn’t ring, and you didn’t wake me up…”

“no,” you answer quickly, lifting your head to peck him on his jaw, “you’re free today.”

you probably either took on a bunch of his work for yourself, or you’ve delegated to his team

he’s so happy when he hears that from you

he got a day off without having to use his vacation days?

kakavasha can’t quite believe it. you, voluntarily clearing his schedule for him? “really?”

“really, mr aventurine.” you sigh, giving him a playfully harsh pinch on the nose. “kakavasha, i hear it’s your birthday today.”

the pout on his face when he hears you call him aventurine fades immediately upon hearing the next part of your sentence. he’s suddenly wide awake, because in no world had he expected anyone to celebrate his birthday for him again.

“what would you like to do?” you ask, signalling for your serpent to set him free from its coils.

he has no idea

he doesn’t celebrate his birthday anymore, unless someone gives him a cake

and even then, it’s as simple as he can make it

the day is associated with far, far too many bad memories

so much for being blessed, he thinks, but now that he’s let you into his life…

maybe this day doesn’t have to be filled with only painful memories now

and it’s not like he’s particularly worried about losing you in terms of death

and you seem pretty content staying with him right now

he’s still thinking. he’s still thinking about the things he wants to do.

there’s so much, but none significant enough to be done with you on such a special day

he wants to do something unique with you

something more than just go on a date(?), share a cake and cuddle

you stare at him, and you sigh, “your morning routine, at least.” you nudge him off your lap as you carefully swipe your thumbs along his lashes. “you have eye boogers.”

kakavasha sputters and flushes. oh, you’ve just ruined his ethereal sleeping beauty image by pointing out he has eye boogers. he almost teleports into the bathroom after you’ve said that, and you run your hands along your serpent like you didn’t just almost give him a heart attack.

you have no plan either, if we’re being honest

all you can think of is to shift everything off his schedule so he can take a break

you did think about taking him on a day trip

but like… where? it’s not like you have a hometown to show him

but just going anywhere doesn’t quite feel right, either

you’ve also thought of giving him an audience with your primal form as a gift, but…

isn’t that nightmare fuel?

and also, you’ve never outright told him about your path, or much about yourself (though you’re pretty sure he’s made some guesses)…

so that’s a no

“what should we do?” you mumble, as your leviathan curls around your neck and stares at you with its maw

it does a biting motion with its maw and tilts its head

“brunch?” you raise a brow at its suggestion

how the hell did you get to brunch from that one little move

also, who would’ve thought that you knew how to cook?

then again, if anyone’s been around as long as you have, they’d know a few handy skills

“woah… you can cook?” kakavasha walks out, looking fresh, as he sees you sliding plate after plate onto the countertop. “i thought you didn’t need to eat?”

“not a need, but i like flavors.” you reply, pointing him towards a chair with your spatula. “sit. i’m almost done.”

while you’re at it, you slide him a mug of mildly sweetened coffee mixed with milk tea

non-authentic xianzhou beverage because you only have access to whatever expensive coffee and teas your boss has stocked at home

you’re not cooking up anything fancy, really, just quick things

like… breakfast items level quick and simple

except you’ve never once cooked in front of him, so he thinks this is all really new

plus it’s you, you’re cooking for him, putting your heart into it, how could he not feel all tingly inside?

!!! do you even know !!! how much you make him swoon !!! with these subconscious things you do !!!

(you generally don’t, though you have the tiniest, tiniest idea in the far back of your mind)

when you finish up and sit down across him, his instinct is to try to feed you

you flinch backwards because what you saw was a fork coming straight at your face

and then you see it’s him trying to feed you, but now you’ve spooked him

he’s got the saddest pout you’ve ever seen on him

did you not like being fed?? :(

before he could pull his hand away, however, you gently take his wrist and let him feed you

you have no idea how much he loves how careful every touch of yours is

this is kakavasha’s first time having food made by someone dear to him since he became aventurine, and he could almost cry at the mere emotional implications of such a gesture, especially when it's from you.

“if you don’t mind…” kakavasha pokes at his plate with his fork as he slowly starts, “i… don’t want to go anywhere. just stay here with me?”

“of course,” comes your reply, “anything you want.”

he’s the birthday boy, come on, there’s no way you’re going to deny him his wishes?

you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone eat while crying and still somehow manage to scarf down so much

but you’re having your eyes opened right now

“it’s not going anywhere,” you say, knowing full well your words will fall on deaf ears, “slow down…”

well, whatever makes him happy, you suppose

you made all this mostly for him anyway

you pick up a few pieces of this and that and feed it to the leviathan waiting on your shoulder

and then you pick up a pancake for yourself

and when you turn back to the table, he’s cleared out every dish

granted, you made like five in total, so it’s really not a big feast…

but still, you didn’t think it was possible

you ask, “should i cook more often?”

he hops off his chair and decides to squeeze next to you in yours

you naturally slip an arm around his waist and pull him into your lap

“will you?” he raises his question in a trembling whisper, like he’s just been offered the world

“i don’t mind.” you say, as you stack the dishes together and prepare to clean up

he buries his face in your neck. “the housekeeper can do it… i want to cuddle.”

you find yourselves on the rooftop. obviously, kakavasha is latching onto you this whole time, so you’re the one who lugged both him and you up the stairs. time passes by quickly, even if you spend it in comfortable silence; before you know it, the moon hangs high in the sky and the glittering stars are out.

“you really like it here.” you state, an observation based on how many times you’ve found him up here late at night.

“that i do,” he replies quietly, wanting nothing more than just to melt into you. “give me your hand?”

you raise a brow as you offer him your hand

he runs his fingers over yours, holding your hand with both of his, tracing every knuckle and every finger

“do you pray?” he asks, suddenly, breaking the trance you’ve fallen into as he touched your hand

you’re not a particularly religious person, but…

“i’m not opposed to the idea,” you say

then it’s enough, he thinks, then he’ll entrust you with a ritual of his people

he’ll give you a very, very important piece of him

after all, he knows he’s in good hands now – you’ll take care of him, won’t you?

he moves your hand around, then, until your palms are flat against each other

you can tell right away what he’s trying to do, and your heart swells with a torrent of emotions

“may the mother goddess thrice close her eyes for you...” kakavasha begins, his voice shaky just as his person. he interrupts himself with a breathless whisper – “repeat after me.”

he takes a deep breath, calming his mind as he comes to terms with how much he will be baring before you. it’s alright, isn’t it? you’ll treasure all that he is. “– keeping your blood eternally pulsing. may your journey be forever peaceful, and your schemes forever concealed.”

you repeat his words a little clumsily, and you press your hand a little tighter against his. it doesn’t take a genius to see that this is such a fragile moment, one where kakavasha’s past, present, and future intersects. where his pain and his solace meet, and where all that he holds dear are at the very forefront of his mind as he finds his way forward. he trembles in your embrace, tiny sobs ripping from his throat as he struggles to keep your palms together.

you briefly wonder if this would be blasphemous, you holding him tightly with your free hand. “shh,” you coo, “shh. take a break, even if just for today…”

it’s too cruel to demand him to keep fighting even on his birthday. you try to shield him from all that is around you with your scarf and your figure, just as you want to shield him from all that could hurt him in the world. the night winds are chilly, but between you and him, you are warm.

“happy birthday, kakavasha.”

#honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

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octopiys · 9 months ago

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what happens if honey (reader) is home alone and theres a break in? or she's in any danger and Simon's not there haha hypothetically what happens 👁👁

ohhhh anon I love what you're thinking here

Lost and Found

Cw: panic attack, violence, blood, death (but its deserved) [not proofread]

Simon goes out of town for his job. He was lucky, he said, too have as much time off for that long while as he did.

He'd only be gone a few days.

Yeah, a few days, you can do that, right? Easy.

You had a ton of leftovers and still more food in the fridge. You should have enough dog food to keep the bowls full outside, and you can still go out in the yard.

You're not on house arrest while he's gone. You can still do whatever you want.

So for the first hour, you sat on the couch, staring at nothing while the duck slept in the box, and Scraggle settles right in your lap, yapping.

What could you do while he was gone? You were overwhelmed with possibility. What couldn't you do?

You missed him. Tears pricked your eyes, stung the waterline, you missed him.

So you do what you're good at, and cook about it.

Kinder to bury your sorrows in the stove than in the ground. What can you make?

There's fish in the freezer. You're not sure what kind it is, but it's only labeled with "price."

What the price is, you're not sure. But Simon would've told you if there was something you couldn't use, right? Maybe it's an expensive fish. Bagged in vacuum seal plastic..... yeah, it probably won't be missed.

You're frying tonight. You've got bread crumbs and oil, and a spare lemon from the fruit bowl. The sun is setting, and the first piece comes off as a test.

You try some of it, hissing at how hot it was, before making direct eye contact with Scraggle, who suddenly seems like it's never been fed in its life. You roll your eyes and slide some to the cat with a quiet warning of "It's hot!"

The cat paws at the piece of fish, before launching in a perfect vertical off the counter, yowling it's head off. It leaps off the counter, does a lap around the room, knocks a few sheets off the printer, launches back onto the counter– you can't help but watch, there was no way to stop it– takes the fish in it's mouth, and darts outside.

You stand in the kitchen, alone and in disbelief.

You look around, as if Simon could've seen that whole fiasco, before laughing softly to yourself.

(Those cameras prove interesting videos when there's a lull in the mission, or there's quiet time in the safehouse. He'll wait for you to tell him about it first. The cameras won't be mentioned.)

The fish and potatoes come off the stove, and you make yourself a plate. You set it at the table, before going to put a record on.

Simon had forgotten he had those. They were stowed away in the garage, with a bunch of old boxes that he still couldn't bare to look through yet.

He hears some old tunes playing from inside of the house, and freezes, memories jolting back to stun him.

He's stumbled into the house, using the walls to push him along, feeling weak in the legs and soft in the head, spinning out of control, until he sees you humming along in the kitchen, the soft sway of your hips to the tunes of an old song he can't remember the name of. You're tasting cookie dough from a spoon, lost in the bliss of it all. At peace. Safe.

He swallows roughly, a sting at his eyes unfamiliar, the tightness in his chest suffocating.

For the first time in years, he thinks the words: I miss my mom.

You hadn't noticed him enter then, those weeks ago, nor had you heard him leave. You sway your hips, moving rhythmically to the instrumental soundtrack as you made your way over to the table.

You were sure Barrow was asleep somewhere, and the smaller mutt with her (inseparable, they were), and Scraggle was off somewhere, recovering from its zoomies. Just you and the music to dinner, then.

By the time your dinner had finished, the dogs were out for the night. The bowls were full, and new blankets were layed out.

You decide to take a bath tonight. Simon said you could use his bathroom, and you wanted to maybe try and take full advantage of it.

When was the last time you had a proper bath? You didn't have any salts, but that's okay. There were a few candles in the cabinet in the kitchen, and your bodywash would bubble up the hot water enough.

You hum softly to yourself as you slip out of your clothes and into the warm water with a sigh. Relaxation slips into your being as the water spills over every inch of you, your hair not touching the water. Your book, the old copy of the Hobbit, finds it's way into your hands as you pick up where you left off. The music is still playing down the hall.

The pony is in the river– something breaks outside. Scraggle must've gotten on your plate, silly you for leaving it out.

The brothers go after the pony, ladden with supplies, but Kili-

The music ends abruptly.

You freeze, hairs on your arms standing straight up. Your stomach flips with sudden anxiety, despite virtually nothing happening.

Obviously, Scraggle must've unplugged the cord after hopping off the table where your plate was. Yeah, that was it.

–pony, ladden with sup–

Ice floods your veins at the realization. You were supposed to be alone in the house. Scraggle hadn't come back inside before you locked the back door.

You cover your mouth to stifle a gasp, scrambling out of the tub as quiet, and urgently, as you could. You slip back into whatever you were wearing before, it didn't matter if it had been dirty or not.

Did Simon keep weapons in the house? There were steak knives in the kitchen. The main phone line was in there, too.

Simon had an emergency phone in his night stand.

Something smashes and you jolt, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you move to peek around the lower corner of the bathroom door.

Shadows dance along the wall and your heart skips a few beats, dancing in your throat.

Had he come to find you?

N- no, you were safe here. Simon told you, he promised you were- what was the emergency dial for this region? You didn't know, could it change? You had to find the phone, and something to defend yourself with.

You held your breath, skin damp, still practically half naked, before darting across the room to the nightstand, and pulling it open soundlessly.

Inside were a few cords, a notepad, moisturizer, and a flip phone.

Of course it was a flip phone.

You open up the contacts tab, cringing at each small beep made by the keypad, tucked in the gap between Simon's large bed and the wall.

>JP

>JM

>KG

>Work

What do you choose? Who were these contacts?

You hear someone laugh, and tears spill down your cheeks. You can't go back, you can't, he couldn't find you this soon.

The phone is dialing. You don't remember which one you picked.

It answers on the second ring. No one speaks.

"...s- simon-" Your voice wobbles out, just below a whisper. Something else breaks, and a quiet sob leaves your mouth.

"Honey? Why're you-"

Relief breaks across you at the familiar gruffness of Simon's voice. Thank God he picked up.

"Someone- someone's in the house- two people- I d- don't know what-" You stumble over your words quickly, trying to tell him everything all at once. You can't breathe. "Need- your help, please-"

"Someone's in the house?" You can hear him stand. There's a bite in his voice, like the edge of a dagger, or the cold of a glacier, immobile. "Where are you?"

"Y- Yes, Simon, please-" You hiccup, stifling another sob with a hand over your mouth. You tell him you're in between his bed and the wall.

"There's a lockbox under the bed. Can you see it?" He asks you.

You scoot a bit, and peer under the bed. It's practically spotless, the gap between the bed and the floor just large enough to squeeze in if someone needed to get under there. You locate the box.

It's on the other side, closest to the door.

"I- I see it-" You whisper.

"Get in there. There's a code-"

You'd have to put yourself between the box and the door in order to open it. They were just down the hall, how they hadn't made their way back here yet, you didn't know. Then they'd catch you, they'd catch you for sure if you left your spot right here, and drag you all the way back- they'd push you through the fields, and the miles of woods, oh god, they'd make you go back to him. They'd make you go back to-

"Honey-"

You're hyperventilating, thinking yourself into a hole. There's no way that you could see yourself getting out of here in the way you want.

"Honey!"

You snap back into it. Lockbox.

"S- Sorry- I can reach it, let me just-" You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and push yourself under the bed. You reach, and can't touch it, so you dig harder, push yourself a little more until your fingertips graze the cold metal of the box, and you tug it towards your, curling in on yourself to open the box.

You punch in the code, open the box, and–

A hand wraps around your ankle and yanks with a sick pop, pulling you out from under the bed. You scream, your phone clattering into the box. You see it close, watching in horror as the bed disappears from above you, your shoulder catching on the underside of the bed on the way out.

You immediately turn, fight or flight kicking in, and lash out, screaming. Your fingers dig into the man's throat, you can't see, before his arm rears back and strikes you across the face.

You don't remember hitting the floor.

You come to, the coarseness of the carpet scratching your back, rugburn. You twitch, blinking the bleariness out of your eyes before writhing, you're being dragged by your legs. You kick out, screaming, turning to grab the walls, or nearest piece of furniture. A book on the ground, you launch it at the head of the man, covered in a ski mask.

He yelps out, dropping you, and you scramble to your feet, head spinning, before you launch yourself back down the hallway.

There's a man in your house.

You find another man in Simon's room. He's got the box open at his feet.

You lunge at him, screaming, your mind blank with fear, or rage or- well, there are men in your house. They want to hurt you.

Who would care for your animals if you were gone?

You don't know how, but the gun is in your hands.

There's blood, and there's a lot of it, and you can't tell how much of it is yours.

There is a man, in your house.

You rise shakily to your feet, heart thudding in your ears. You turn to the doorway of Simon's room.

You make your way out of the room, a heavy limp to your step, your hips ache in the curve of your legs, a dull pain muted by adrenaline.

No one. No one will hurt your animals. No one will hurt your house.

Lucky for you, the man meets you halfway. His nose is bleeding, and you raise your gun at him.

He stops, leaning against the wall as he smiles, the blood from his nose staining his teeth.

"Cmon, Baby, you don' know what yer doin'... Jus' drop the gun. I'll help you out, Baby, cmon Baby, jus-" He coos at you, like you're helpless.

There's a yowl, and a flash of cat, and Scraggle appears from almost nowhere, sinking it's toothy mouth into the man's ankle. He shouts out, hopping up onto one foot, flinging his other wildly. Scraggle shoots up into the air, before landing on its feet, hissing erratically.

The man starts forward towards your cat.

"Why you little-"

There's another flash.

You sink to the ground, your head in a pounding agony. You can't hear anything past the ringing in your ears, the loud screech leftover by a fired gunshot in close quarters. You can't hear, can't breathe.

You're bleeding, somewhere, you don't know if you can find out the source.

Scraggle curled up in your lap, purring and licking at your hand.

Did you see, mother. Did you see how good Scraggle has done. Defended the home front, all alone, no help at all, did you see how good Scraggle has done? Praise it, praise it mother, feed it extra tonight, Scraggle deserves it, bested the beasts by itself, it did-

Your eyes drag over to the body of the man in the hall, and you do nothing about it. A kind of satisfaction fills you, like sweet rot, mossy mildew in your chest. Your hand rests on Scraggle, who was completely unharmed.

There's a slight smile on your face as the medicine kicks in, and you nestle in closer to Simon. The questions will come later, sleep is now. No one hurts your animals.

You blink, and someone's crouching in front of you, cradling your head in his hands. You hum, tired enough to not bother opening your eyes. He opens them for you, shining a bright light, and you flinch back with a whine.

He's pressing his forehead to yours the second the light disappears, mumbling something you still can't hear.

You mouth his name, or say it, you can't tell, and lean into the warmth that is Simon. Your face is wet with fresh tears, and everything hurts, fix it Simon, please-

He pulls you into his arms, Scraggle brushing up against you, purring. You can't hear it, but you can feel the vibrations of your favorite little critter, trying to do it's best to help heal you.

You're carried to your room and sat in your bed, Simon wrapping your shoulder in bandages– when did he get those?– and looking at your ankle. You're sleepy, you lean against him, seeking warmth body heat and comfort. He wraps his arms around you, and you fall under, your eyes drifting shut as you start to snooze against him.

You didn't seem to make the connection that there was more than one person helping him out, no matter how they got there so quickly.

John sticks his head into the room as you fall asleep, spotting Gaz on the floor trying to set your ankle, and Simon behind you, holding your sleeping form.

"She alright?"

"Yeah, sir. Just a bit roughed up. Where's Soap?" Simon rumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

Scraggle jumps up on the bed, nesting between you both. Blessings and healing to mother, blessing to father-

"Takin' out the trash." John responds. "Mind if we crash here for the night, once we get it all cleaned up?"

"Not in the least. There's pasta in the fridge, Cap'n."

And no one calls you Baby.

masterlist

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #kyle 'gaz' garrick #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john price

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hihello-idraw · 1 year ago

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Decided why not actually post my drawings of dragon! Wels

Okay but

Dragon Hybrid!Welsknight

does this exist somewhere because if so I need it

#Anygays #the reason I don't usually draw Wels with his horns+his tail is bcs I headcanon that he usually hides it with shapeshifting or glamour #But he can easily slip back into his actual form due to high emotions #btw he hides his horns and tail bcs it'd be somewhat disconcerting to some ppl that a knight meant to slay the dragon #is actually a dragon themselves #and most ppl just assume that he's some kind of elf when meeting bcs of that #also it's super amusing to me that this man is somehow the damsel the knight AND the dragon all at the same time #also rather ironic bcs his armour has a WHOLE BUNCH of angel imagery on it #btw the main inspiration for his dragon features (minus the colours) is acc dollightfull's air dragon doll!#i loved the idea that Wels could be an air dragon while Hels could be an earth dragon #love direct opposites #also also on that drawing of Wels saying 'you lied to me'#the faint doodles to the side of it was done by my sister #my oldest sister to be exact #another thing is that he's not ashamed that he's a dragon in the slightest #the only reason he still keeps his glamour up is bcs it's second nature #and it's funny to prank new ppl with sometimes #ALSO!! VERY IMPORTANT NOTE!!!#Wels has no wings and neither does Hels #very VERY important to me #don't ask why #oh my gosh the amount i've yapped abt Wels being a dragon is slightly concerning #i don't think i'm very Normal abt this man #welsknight #welsknight fanart #honeys art #honeys rambles

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pushingdaisies1 · 11 months ago

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Nasty Dog . . . ♡ ↳ (part two of ''kinda hate you - kinda love you")

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x "X-Man" Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY-> You kept on replaying that moment with Logan in your mind. Something small definitely put you on one hell of a roll. It made you think a lot more about what you two shared. Especially if it was even something to hold on to as much as you did. Antagonizing him over breakfast about how much of a show-off he can get, he complies to help you with your class. Specifically when he overhears you talking about your lesson plans. Hand-to-hand combat and you need another demonstrator? Sign him up big time.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! gonna make this part short so I don't fill half of this post with my yapping. like I've repeated over the last two(?) , tysm for all of the love. its funny x-men has reignited my writing hehe haha. i wanna write for logan more nd also do professor x?? james mcavoy my love? anyways , u and logan are so weird I'm loving it so hard. also might open up requests for x-men so I can write for the whole bunch. ESPECIALLY lolo , the honey badger of my eye 100%. Hope you enjoy and comment if you'd like to be on a taglist for my works!! (most likely will be doing a lot of x-men stuff until I run out of ideas.)

(✧ ˚.) CWS (?)-> again this is supposed to take place within the context of X-Men 97/X-Men animated series , second person pov , descriptions of combat/sparring, kinda alluded to you two being fwb?? lowkey more complicated but, YALL DONT FUCK SRRY but definitely some suggestiveness , you and Logan kiss n argue and not so makeup so idrk if that counts for hurt/kinda comfort???..

Like the night before that, you were pacing back and forth around your room. The place you would stay most of the time if you ever even had a day off. On your nearby desk would lay students' reports. Ranging on physical fitness and endurance, health studies, and so on.

Ororo sat crisscrossed on your bed as she watched you. Her expression was grim as she looked down into her tea. She was originally planning to go to bed. Though you came to her with troubles plaguing you. X-Men are like family to one another, so she spared you her time. Your worrying made more sense once you gave her the slightly skimmed-over details. You left bits and pieces out of the story for your own sake.

“So he.. and then you…?” She questioned, voice low and face absent in thought as she cringed in realization. You quickly nodded as you held your hands to your face embarrassed. "I know Ororo! It's really ... really bad." Storm couldn't help but crack a small chuckle seeing how frazzled you were over Wolverine. It looked like there was smoke coming right out of your ears with how huffy and puffy you were. "Wow, breath for me. The only thing you should be passing out onto is your bed, not the floor." She assured as she set her cup aside on your nightstand. She got up to look at you face to face. Gently taking your face in her hands. The most, and I mean the most you told Storm was a very cut-down version of the story. Nothing about the nights you were whisked away into his room. How you two used each other consensually as another body to rip into and hold when nights got long.

It's not like you two had nothing. There was a spark undeniably there. But to you, it felt like his eyes would always be for Jean. It's not like you couldn't see why he was infatuated with the redhead. You've known her long enough to know that she would always stick things through with Scott.

Logan was always a fan of the hunt, you were like a place where he could bury his bones. You were familiar, you never had plans to leave his side.

Besides, for the sake of your affair with Logan, it was best not to complicate things. That was before he decided to throw out some choice words. Words that made your chest tighten and sweat rise through the roof. She rubbed under your eyes with her thumb as she guided you to look back at her. "Whatever you and Logan have going on is truly none of my business. Nor the team's business at all." She explained, hearing her speak was so calming. Her tone was always so smooth almost ethereal. "As your friend and your sister, I can't sway your hand either." From the day she arrived in the mansion, Ororo was like your constant. You relied on your friends sure. But like her and Jeans shared kinship, you had something similar with her. Which is why it hurt even more with your dilemma. "Logan is not a perfect man. I know you are stronger than this. You know what's good for you. The X-Men will always have your interests at heart, yes. But it's you who has to make this call." She hummed as she leaned her forehead against yours. "Sadly the ones we yearn for sometimes, or even will always have their heart set on another. You are better than that. You and him can mess, sure. But one day it will end and he'll go back to pining over our Jean." She spoke sweetly with a sympathetic smile. She was right like always.

She looked at you once more, forehead still against yours. "It is you who has to move on to someone who will put you into perspective."

A comforting embrace from Ororo absorbed you. It felt as if you were embraced by the world. Clinging onto her tight, she stopped the storm weathering inside of you. Gently rubbing your back she'd let the silence ruminate inside of your bedroom for a while. "Take some time dearest, maybe speak to him if you can." She murmured into your hair. "Maybe you two just need some needed distance? Because he's definitely missing out on one extraordinary creature." A small smirk grew onto her features as she separated your hug, you complying of course. "All I know is that you deserve whatever honesty you can squeeze out of that man." She acknowledged with the smile you always related to hope. Ororo was your consciousness, she was pretty much one of the most level-headed of your team. You thanked the fate that brought Ororo into existence. Without her words of real wisdom, you would still be spiraling in your bed like a clown. "Thank your Ororo, truly I do mean it." You spoke with a humble smile as she chuckled softly. "We're family, I'll always guide you by any means necessary." She replied, giving you one final look of affirmation before reaching the door. She opened it gently, letting the air open it wider before her eyes wandered to you one last time. "Sleep well, don't let yourself run mad because of him." She purred, leaving you alone. You stood there with yourself. Sucking in a breath of air you knew what was needed. The haze in your continuous stream of thought cleared. With one more look around at your walls, your eyes turned to your bed. You fell right in under your warm and fuzzy blankets. You were practically knocked out as soon as your head filled the pillow. Tomorrow you should be fine, tomorrow will be a better day. Quickly night turned to day. You were awoken by the sound of the students playing on the nearby basketball court down below. Your shoulders eased some more once you saw the empty hall in front of you. No one to interrupt your morning stroll down to the kitchen, where you knew by now someone had to be in there. You quickly jostled yourself down the stairs as soon as you caught a whiff of food. By just a tiny sniff you knew it was Gambit cooking. Your stomach cheered and roared as you rounded the hallway. Coming into the kitchen, Gambit was already dishing some of his beignets up. His hair was up and swooped as he wore a cropped t-shirt, with a colorful display of artwork on it that you didn't really want to decipher. Surprisingly it was a pretty quiet morning. But then you realized why when looking at the clock. The biggest surprise was that even Gambit was up this early. Scott too, as he was sat down with a newspaper on and his regular shades. Gambit swung around seeing you, fresh beignet in hand. "Cher, good morning to you!" he greeted you with a sing-song tune. He stopped at no time dishing up the last batch. You cracked a sleepy grin as you rubbed one of your eyes. "Am I in heaven? I don't think I've ever seen you whip something up this early." You joked as you found a seat at the table. "Gambit is in a good mood this wonderful day, no?" He purred as he smacked on his final touches. Scott looked up from the paper with an eye roll. Only noticeable with the way his head tilted. "He accidentally charged his alarm clock, woke me and Jean up." He snickered, taking another sip of his mug. The sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filled the air. If you had no self-restraint, he'd be having to remake that entire batch after five minutes.

"Alarm clock? I thought you said Gambit works on his own time?" You turned to Gambit with a raised brow as he leaned against the island counter. He looked away with a small smirk gracing his lips. "I listened to the missus." He shrugged carelessly as you couldn't help but hold back a laugh. His and Rogue's back and forth always made your mornings lighter. Soon the kitchen filled with everyone else. Jean happily greeted Scott with a kiss on the cheek, sucking your wandering eyes into conversation. Rogue soon followed, coming into the kitchen and stretching like a cat. Gambit was already climbing up her tree, given their whole "deal." Their coy and flirtatious banter always brought a smile to your lips , making you get all idealistic-y.

Jubilee and Storm were one of the last to follow. Jubilee of course decided to sleep in late, what teenagers do. Storm explained her absence due to deep talks with the professor.

She especially looked at you with a kind-eyed smile, peacefully soaking in the team's chatter as she too gathered herself food. Jubilee clung to you the entire breakfast. Not like at your hip, but you were one of the ones she got close to immediately. It made sense and you didn't mind her popping into your meal to ask about how this all was supposed to work. "I thought since I'm an X-Man, I didn't really have to DO school here?" She thought aloud, beignet and soft blueberries halfway in her mouth. You answered her question swiftly, relishing in your thirst diminishing.

"It's different since you are still a kid." You hummed, taking the last bites of your plate. "Besides, the extra training besides just on-the-field stuff could help. Danger room drills aren't the only thing a young X-Man like yourself should be going over."

She sighed while resting her chin on her knuckles. "I know, just feels so bogous!" She scoffed playfully, serving herself a big bite of food. Your heart rate was exhilarated by some once you heard Storm greet Logan a "Good Morning." The two of you haven't spoken much to each other. Outside of short-term missions and war room meetings. You weren't surprised when the both of you so quickly made and lost eye contact. He grumbled in response, you weren't surprised. You could hear his confused murmuring as he rummaged for a cup. You spoke up from where you sat at the table. "On the counter, got bored, and knew you would be hankering for a pick me up." You turned back to face him in your chair. You were even taken surprised that you made the first "move." In response, he flashed you a toothy grin. "Looks like someone kissing ass this morning." He gruffly spoke, making up his own hefty plate.

As usual, the professor stayed off in his study. Everyone at the table talked amongst themselves. You couldn't remember how you and Logan started pestering one another. No shocker Gambit with a shit-eating grin amped up the bragging. One minute it was lesson plans, another it was Logan talking about how he could easily show you up during your lesson. Chest puffed, his arms crossed somewhat. He picked scraps out from in between his teeth using a free claw. It gleamed in the shimmering sunlight escaping into the room as his mouth continued to run. "Come on! I'm always the one saving your ass." He chuckled with grit as he finally was able to get out of a piece of that egg. "The other way around Grandpa." You snickered with your teeth on full display. Jean tried to put a stop to your and Logan's childish spat. If you could even call it that. One remark after another and soon he was agreeing to help you in the dangeroom later on in the day. Just your luck, it was foolish to even think this would have no hiccups. You passed through the day doing regular tasks. When the professor wasn't alert about any new trouble, or the school wasn't in shreds it was pretty peaceful.

You spent your time diligently working over those same tasks you despised when you had your hunger for excitement. The quietness around the school was comforting.

Time swept you away before you could realize it was time for your class. Young mutants swarmed into your room, chipper and excited for what today brought. You never expected to enjoy teaching this much. Quickly as the chatterboxes chattered, you soon quieted down the bunch. Greeting your students, you stood up from behind your desk. Rounding up to the front to address the entire room. Diligently you went over the topic for today's lesson. Today it was time to focus on hand-to-hand sparring. Being a mutant did mean having powers at whoever's disposal. But just in case the situation arose of being unable to use those powers, there was always a "plan b" needed at the ready. Most of the students were either paying attention first row or loosely clueing into what was planned for the hour. You didn't really mind, hearing a teacher talk no matter how vibrant they were would never stop being annoying. In the middle of your rapid explanation, you were interrupted by the door swinging open. No thanks to a lot of the doors in the school being a lot more noisy. In the doorway stood Logan, posture steady. With the amount of flannels he wore you wouldn't be surprised to see them being eighty percent of his closet. "I was needed, so here I am." He announced with a bitter sound as he cleared his throat. His arms fell to the side of him almost like he was showing himself off. You immediately perked up as you forgot one small detail. "I forgot to mention, everyone to the danger room!" You instructed as your hands gestured to the doors. Soon bodies started to move as Logan sauntered up towards you. His hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Y'know, I'm gonna kick your ass demonstration or not." He blabbed with that same stupid smirk on his face. You always wanted to wipe it straight off of his face. You turned to him with a pointed look as you whispered to him a threat. Less of a threat and more of an invitation. "Oh sure, missed you pinning me down. Forgot how your hands felt." You hummed before pushing past him. It was only you two, as by now most of their students were already making their way towards or were already in the danger room. Faintly you could hear the slightesting crackling of a chuckle from him. You were going to wipe the floor with his stupid hair.

Finally, everyone was inside and ready. You made sure to wrap your hands since you and Logan were sparring. Given that it was only for demonstrating purposes. But if you really tried, packing a punch into Logan was a lot harder than expected. Can't forget the metal skeleton that lay behind that stupidly handsome rugged jaw.

You paired students off to see how they worked without any use of their powers or special abilities. As a sort of example to anyone up next. After a small mistake by two of some students, you brushed them aside without any pestering. They tried, but maybe now that teacher example should be coming in handy.

Setting up the room, you sequenced it before rushing downstairs to the room itself. Of course, Logan ran right in behind you. "Now - me and mister Howlett are going to give a demonstration. Please watch as that'll be needed for anyone else I haven't sent in yet." Finally, the command commenced as the room quickly shifted into place. It was the simple danger room. White walls and white flooring are suddenly the only things around you two. Finding your stance you stared Logan down. He, not surprisingly, brought back that same sort of fervor and even more. Fists were up and it was time to fight. It was like two predators trying to dominate the other into becoming their respective prey. Your fighting styles clashed in the best of ways. You were quiet when it came to making the first attack. You knew how to be stealthy on your feet. Especially quick when diverting oncoming attacks from enemies. Logan was very abrasive especially when it came to how he attacked opponents. Run in first and think about the consequences later. Quickly you were able to ambush him. Throwing him for a loop once the bottom of your feet met his backside. It was like landing on solid ground. He groaned as he fell back, but that smirk still lay smeared on his lips.

You knew his weak spots and he was the same. Every single point, the two of you could find without even a poorly timed guess. For only a demonstration you two went at it for a while. His knuckles met your frame and so did yours. It was a dance of dominance, as old as time still stands. You soon did realize how much time your sparring was stretching. You still needed to at least have four or more students go up. By the time you two escaped each other's limbs as you had him pinned to the floor only just moments ago, you looked up to see your students.

Some were either paying attention or again, too absorbed in the conversation other classmates were having. Jubilee stood there a little bit taken aback by how you and Logan went at each other. I mean that was brutal but was the huffing and puffing needed? You two looked as if you were about to do the finishing blow to another. "Alright!" You said with an exhale. "Now use that when going head to head with your partner. Treat them as a peer but also as another fighter. Going against a fellow student doesn't mean you cant test out what you learned." You threw out teacher voice , quickly announcing which kids were next. You and Logan made your way back to the observational area of the danger room. The ascend back up was pretty quiet between the both of you. It was the same when you made your way back up and observed the rest of the class.

Soon enough you dismissed your students. Then there was only two , you and Logan. You stood there looking over the empty dome down below you. Logan soon walked up behind you.

Silence was never you shared kind of vibe. So you were somewhat joyous when he snuck a small kiss from you. Pecking the nearest edge of your lips , you came back at him with an embrace of those same lips.

Hungry and desperate like the usual. Internally you fought with yourself. You and Logan as companions and friends didn’t make things any easier. This sneaking around made you feel dirty. You didn’t want to be second pick.

It was you who stopped the exchange. Logan looked back at you with a blank expression. He couldn’t deny that the consistent dynamic between you two did make him guilty. He respected you tons but Jean would always be something he could never get his hands on. Some bastardoues part of him knew he liked that cat and mouse game. He would always wait for her , you and him were a different story.

“I can’t Logan.” You mumbled as your limb’s disconnected once again for good this time. This time it wasn’t with such passion. “This , us , I can’t do this anymore.”

His blank expression stayed as he almost barked out. “What do you mean? Yah never really said anything before, this makes no sense.” He rasped as his throat cleared a little.

The way his hazel eyes looked back at yours was a sight to see.

“I don’t like this charade. I like you but.. this thrill is gone.” You sucked in a breath as you stood apart now. “I mean I don’t just like you. What I feel for you is like nothing I’ve felt for another man. But here you are , waiting like a frail dog for Jean to finally drop Scott.”

He scoffed almost in your face. A part of him knew his yearning for Jean was pathetic. That he didn’t have a chance ever with her. Almost like she subconsciously infected his thoughts with only her. He knew though that it was just him being a fool , for you and for a woman that would never truly reciprocate his affections.

“You should have just said that , bub. I didn’t mean to waste your time parading around like a joke.” He shook his head , hands going deep into his pockets just like how he arrived. He slowly started to walk away. Bordering on leaving , finally you were honest.

“I love you Logan! There I said it!” You shouted , hiccuping like an idiot as you held your chest. That same flustered sensation spread throughout your lungs. “I’ve been in love with you ever since the night we made this stupid thing official. Ever since I felt your lips on mine.” You gritted out , fate was twisting your hand.

“But I respect myself too much to be so blind. I respect you too much to let us do this back and forth. I want something real with you. I want your words of praise to mean something. I don’t want these lies , I want you to love me. Because I do , and this whole poor man’s game of checkers deal isn’t what I want.” All of the hot air was gushing out of you as you went on and on about how you were internally struggling.

He looked back at you for a good minute. Burning silence was in the air. Before he spoke the word that stabbed you right in the heart.

“It’ll pass.” Then soon after he left you alone. In a puddle of your own feelings. You crumbled to the floor like a child. You held yourself up as you wiped your eyes of any free falling tears. You hated that someone so flip floppy with your feelings made you like this.

The heart of a lover was now eaten in two. Now it was your turn to piece yourself back together. With gritted teeth you got up a while later and collected yourself.

You would always be his fool. That was the worst thing about your desire for the Wolverines affection. Just the corner of your heart set for him was now bruised and battered.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 (im so sorry if the ending feels rushed , i was in the mood for Logan angst 😔)

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