#basically i wish everyone a 'i hope that your brain is not your own enemy but rather a friend that you can find comfort in'

[crescentfool]

beaming everyone on the dashh with good brain day vibes!!! i hope that you all can remember to extend self-compassion to yourself whenever you're feeling down about something 💙

[the-travelling-witch]

Hey Holly!

So, I've been thinking deep, long and hard about this (tehehe that sounded dirty :3) and I've finally found a nice prompt I wish to make a request on...so get your pot brewing cause its angst time.

How about some Childe x harbinger! fem! reader where they both have been in a relationship for a while now…and have grown extremely close since then doing missions and assassinations together etc. And everyone knows them as a power couple/force to be reconned with. However, as you know Childe/Ajax is a family man and after a little night of unsafe 'dirties' reader becomes pregnant and they are both super excited (if you feel uncomfortable with pregnancy you can just change it to them planning to getting married or something its fine) butttt...then they get sent off on a mission together to fight a powerful enemy that is giving big trouble...but unfortunately it was too much for even them and though they win the battle they lose the war (they basically got the badguys but got fatally wounded throughout this)

And its in their last moments together that they reminisce about the good times, remind each other of their love and think about what could've been... I mean if you wanna let them survive too that's cool..but just make sad regardless okay🙂

Thanks Holly❤

*skips out the cafe*

Cookie Customer🍪

What could´ve been

summary: you and childe are living the harbinger life, secretly dating behind the scenes; when a new member joins your little family, how will your life change?

pairing: childe x fem!harbinger!reader

warnings: fluff to angst, major character death, child death, pregnancy, allusion to doing the dirty but noting explicit (therefore suggestive), (mentions of) murder, mentions of maiming/ losing limbs, cursing, long fic (~11.6k)

a/n: cookie, i don´t think you know how much brain rot you gave me with this but you can guess with how much i drifted off; i changed the ending a little bit, i hope you don´t mind; i understand there´s been a lot of focus on the fatui recently bc of the new trailer but i wrote this before we got the news, if you wanna learn more about my progress, you can find a post here; thank you to my best friend and @mari-on-dragonspine for reading this and enduring my breakdowns <3 lastly, i don´t normally ask for this but i invested a lot of time into this, so if you like the fic, please consider reblogging, commenting, leaving an ask or sharing this with others, it would mean the world to me ♡

genshin impact masterlist

“I think I fell madly in love with you the first time we met.”

“The first time we met, I tried to kill you.”

“I know and it was attractive as hell.”

“I worry about you sometimes, Childe.” The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the kitchen and into the rest of the house as the first rays of the sun filtered through the curtains.

“Aww, what's with the name, babe? We're not at work yet,” he whined groggily. Joining you at the kitchen counter, he pressed his chest against your back and buried his nose in your hair. His hands seemed to have found a life of their own as they stroked and squeezed along every part of you they could get a hold of, here and there dipping under the shirt that was actually his. His voice came out muffled as his lips attached themselves to your neck, making it even harder to understand him. “So, don't call me that, yeah? I'm just Ajax while we're at home.”

“Right now, you're just a big baby,” you teased as your hand came up to run through his messy ginger strands before pressing a steaming mug into his hands. “Come on, you'll have to get going or you'll be late.”

“Do I have to?” At the affectionately stern call of his name, Childe slowly detached himself from you. “Fine. But it's really not fair that you get to go later than me.”

“Bring back a gnosis and you might be able to sleep in as well.” You chuckled at the imprecations the ginger directed towards your fellow harbinger under his breath while he pulled out a pan, two plates and some ingredients for breakfast. Now it was your turn to hug your pouty lover around the waist while nuzzling your cheek into the defined muscles of his back. “Don't be like that, honey. I also wish we could have more time together but for now, I'm just happy we even get to spend the morning with each other. Being away from you for so long was really the worst.”

“How can I not agree with you when you're so cute first thing in the morning, hmm?” You felt his laughter just as much as you heard it, the movement of his arms over the pan adding to the sensation. “What do we say to eggs and bacon to start the day? I think we still have some vatrushka buns as a little treat as well.”

“Sounds amazing,” you yawned into his back.

“Hey now, no going back to sleep,” he teased. “If you helped, we'd be done faster, you know.”

“But this is nice, I think I'll stay like this a little longer,” you said, digging your fingers into his ribs, causing Childe to jolt up slightly.

“This is not helping!”

Eventually, you decided to lend a hand and soon after you two got to enjoy a scrumptious breakfast as you soaked up each other's presence, hands intertwined and feet tangled underneath the table. In the early morning light, his ocean eyes sparkled the way they usually only did during an intense battle. And just like always, it was way too easy for you to lose yourself in their depths but reality pulled you to the surface again.

“Thank you for cooking, darling, it was delicious.” As you stood up and gathered the dishes, you pressed a lingering kiss to his temple. Before he could even make a move to help you, you shushed him. “I've got this. Go and get ready. You really shouldn't keep Her Majesty waiting.”

When Childe reappeared in the kitchen door, he was dressed in his trademark grey outfit, harbinger mask settled at the side of his head as he wrapped the striking red scarf around his neck. Stepping close to him, you let him pull you in by the waist as you worked on the buttons of the thick fur coat he threw on.

“What's your schedule for today? I'll be working with some new recruits and they'd better do well. For their own sake.” His thumb traced along the features of your face as if he wanted to commit every last detail to memory.

“I'm sure they'll do fine,” you hummed as you leaned into his touch. “I'll be out collecting some debts. If everyone behaves, I might make it back to Zapolyarny Palace for lunch.”

“I'm looking forward to that,” he hummed before cupping your face and leaning down to meet you halfway. Neither of you wanted to pull away, your hands snaking around his neck keeping him in place as you tilted your head to gain better access to his lips. A groan escaped him as Childe tugged you impossibly closer, your chest flush against the soft material of his clothes. You knew he might not ever leave the house if you didn't stop him, so you pulled back only for his lips to chase yours.

“Ajax, you really should go now,” you giggled. “I'll come meet you once I'm done, I promise.”

There was a smug grin on his face at your statement. “Well, you promised it, can't go back on your word now. Be safe, yeah?”

“Will be. Same goes for you, too.”

He hummed affirmatively before swooping down to place another quick peck on the crown of your head. A cold breeze swept through the entryway of your house as the front door opened and Childe stepped into the snowy landscapes of Snezhnaya. After the door shut, you stood and watched his silhouette grow smaller in the distance before making your way to the bathroom.

Going through your morning routine, you washed up and then moved into your dressing room where your work clothes were already waiting for you. The material was familiar against your skin as you pulled piece after piece on, giving you a sense of comfort and normality. You added a multitude of different accessories to complete the harbinger look and scrutinised your appearance again in the mirror. If there was something you had learned from your time working under the Tsaritsa, then it was the importance of appearances. A harbinger who didn't look the part was much less likely to be taken seriously, by both enemies and allies alike.

When everything sat as it should, you opened the topmost drawer of your vanity and carefully lifted the elegant mask out of its designated case. During a confrontation, it would cover the upper half of your face, leaving your mouth and cheeks bare, but for now, it only served as a special accessory.

Last but not least, you attached the teal vision that almost felt as if it was floating before grabbing your Tsaritsa-given delusion. In contrast to the power bestowed upon you by the gods, it felt cold against your skin but didn't chill you to the bone like it used to.

After pulling on your boots and grey coat, you braced yourself for the frosty temperatures you had learned to endure and started trekking through the snow-covered paths. It was hard to discern anything due to the thick white blanket covering everything the eye could see and you'd no doubt go blind if the sun broke through the dark grey sky. Perfect for an ambush on the unassuming.

“My Lady!” The voice of one of your subordinates rang through the silence of the morning as they appeared before you, their black uniforms standing out against the background as they knelt before you. “All targets have been sighted. We can proceed with the mission as planned.”

“Good. Let's get going then.”

Most of the people owing money to the Fatui complied rather easily with your demands or jumped at the deals you offered them to clear themselves of their debt. Having a Harbinger personally show up on your doorstep was a well-known sign the time for fun and games was over and that resistance would cost you more than any kind of deal ever could. But, as always, there had to be an exception.

You came to a halt on a hilltop outside of a run-down town, the black fur of your coat’s neckline tickling your nose when a gust of wind swept over the ice as you scanned over the info on the last debtor for this day. He had loaned a hefty sum from the Fatui but also from other organisations, all of which he had yet to repay.

“This is going to be fun,” you mumbled under your breath as you handed the files back to an agent. “We'll proceed as usual. Stay back until the target shows signs of resistance.”

“Yes, my lady!”

The snow-mudded streets were empty and if it weren't for the shadows moving behind the windows of the crooked houses, one could've mistaken it for an abandoned ghost town. Whenever you caught the eye of someone through the dirty glass, they averted them with ill-disguised fear.

With confident strides and your head held high, you pushed open the door to a shabby bar while your subordinates melted into the surroundings outside. The falling snowflakes from outside were replaced by dust swirling through the dimly lit room. The floorboards groaned under your heels. Drawn by the noise, a sleazy and haggard man appeared behind the bar.

“Yeah, yeah what do you want-!” His tone and facial expression immediately changed as he took in your appearance but not in the regretful way people normally look at the Harbingers. A disgusting grin spread over his face as he rubbed his hands together. “Oh, my apologies, young lady. What can I get you, dear?”

“I'd like a drink, please.” You put on your most honeyed voice and an easy smile as you slowly approached the counter. Oh, you were going to have fun with him. “A drink worth 800 000 Mora, to be exact.”

“800 000 Mora?!” The guy spluttered. “You must be joking! A- a drink worth this much-“

“I don't jest about matters of this magnitude. Well, if you can't make me a drink, there's something else you could do for me. Certainly, this figure rings a bell.” Your smile grew just a little too friendly as you cocked your head to the side as the fool blankly stared at you. “No? What a shame. But since I'm not interested in wasting my valuable time any longer, let's cut to the chase: I'm here to collect a debt.”

“Collect a debt?” His eyebrows knitted together before he slammed his hands down on the countertop. “Did that bastard Igor send you? Thought a little eye candy would loosen my pockets, huh? Well, you can tell him—”

“Unfortunately for you, I wasn't sent here by Igor. Oh well, since you clearly have no idea who I am, I'll be so generous as to enlighten you.” As the cold from outside seeped into your voice, the shadows on the wall started to move, your subordinates manifesting behind you. “I'm Columbina, Second of the Fatui Harbingers. I'm here on behalf of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, to settle a debt amounting to 800 000 Mora. Without calculating interest.”

His face fell as those words left your lips and he rounded the bar faster than you could say Mora. Throwing himself at your feet, he grabbed at the hem of your coat as he finally showed some remorse. “Please, Lady Harbinger! I didn't know! Please forgive this fool for speaking out of term!”

���Is that all you're apologising for?” Looking down on him from above you studied his already tear-swollen eyes as you ripped the cloth out of his grasp. “Besides, it'll take more than a pitiful apology to absolve you of your misconduct against Her Majesty. After all, going against the Fatui means going against the will of the Tsaritsa herself, you understand that right?”

At his shaky nod, you continued.

“Good. Now that we've established that,” you said, drawing an elegant sword and pressing the dangerously gleaming edge against the side of his neck, “I wonder how our Archon would proceed with someone who dared disrespect an agreement with her?”

“Please, gracious Lady Harbinger, spare my life!” His trembling caused his skin to slide against the steady hold of your blade causing the first crimson drops to run down the polished surface.

“And why would I do that? Give me a convincing reason.”

“I'll pay back the whole debt!” This was the loudest his voice had been since the reveal of your identity, yet, you could see the panic in his eyes as his gaze caught yours, one eyebrow raised as you scrutinised him. “W-With interest of course!”

“Hmm, you sound confident, so I'll believe you for now.” Sheathing your blade again, you motioned for your subordinates to leave. As you reached the door, you looked back over your shoulder at the fool's ashy-grey face again. “Well, then, I'll be back for a drink soon.”

And with that, the door shut with a bang. You exhaled deeply as you pinched the bridge of your nose. Debt collecting was usually not something you enjoyed as most people who loaned money from the Fatui were desperate enough to grasp at the last straws. But sometimes… sometimes seeing a douche like him on his knees in front of you gave you a certain kind of kick.

“Hihihi, Lady Columbina~” Two of your highest right-hand mages, Elaira and Alina,  approached you, the blue and violet ears on their hoods bobbing with their giggles. “It's not often you're so cold with your targets. What prompted this?”

“People need to be reminded once in a while who they're dealing with. Besides, don't you think he deserved it more than any of the others we visited today?”

“Oh, we absolutely agree, Lady Columbina,” the electro mage said in a sing-song voice. “It's always fun to see you so commanding, it really gets me going. You should do it more, it suits you.”

“It's always the same with you two,” you sighed as they erupted in another fit of giggles. “Come on, let's report back to Zapolyarny Palace. I'd rather not waste any more time in this run-down town.”

“You got it, my Lady!”

Stepping into Zapolyarny Palace was like taking a bath in a Snezhnayan lake, the sub-zero temperatures from outside seemed to plummet even further as you crossed into Her Majesty's sovereign territory. The guards at the enormous entry gate saluted as you and your entourage passed before the heavy doors shut again with a deep thud. As the clacking of your heels echoed off the icy walls, every agent you came across halted in their way and stood at attention, even if you didn't spare them so much as a glance.

Signalling for the guards to grant you entry, you held your head high and looked straight ahead, all emotion drained from your features as the high-arching doors slowly swung open. There, on a throne in front of a stained-glass window, sat one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen, the slit in her shiny blue dress revealing the marble-smooth skin of her crossed legs. The crystals in her crown reflected the light like polished icicles and her long snow-white hair moved barely at all as she tilted her head resting on a perfectly manicured hand. Yet, as you levelled your gaze with hers, there was nothing but frost and coldness between you, the mere metres to the base of the throne felt like a tundra worth of distance.

“Your Majesty, we come bearing the reports of this morning's debt collecting,” one of the Cicin mages said as they stepped out in front of you before kneeling like your other subordinates. “We think your Majesty will be very pleased.”

One of the soldiers next to the throne took the papers, then resumed his position and stood still as a statue. With a lift of your fingers, you motion for your leave, never once breaking eye contact with your Archon. The heavy drape of your cloak swept over the threshold of the courtroom and with that the doors shut.

“Ugh! How do you do it, my Lady? What is your secret?” The Elaira lamented as you reached your wing within the palace. Everyone within these corridors was one of your subordinates or one of a fellow Harbinger whose business collided with yours. “I really don't understand how you can look her in the eyes for so long! I'd freeze on the spot!”

“Hmm, I suppose you get used to the cold eventually”, you answered nonchalantly. “Now, to more important matters: lunch?”

As she opened her mouth to speak an agent called for your attention. “My Lady, Lord Tartaglia has requested an audience. He is waiting in your study.”

“Very well.” You turned to the two women. “You go on without me. I will meet you at the training grounds as scheduled.”

“Of course, my lady. Enjoy your lunch~”, the two giggled as they vanished with a wink.

“They'll be the death of me,” you sighed as you crossed the room, shrugging off your coat before slumping into your cushioned chair, your fingers finding their way to the familiar spot on the bridge of your nose.

“You've always been exceptionally fond of them though.” The ginger across from you remarked as he linked his arms behind his head and stretched out his long legs.

“Unfortunately for my nerves, you're right.” With a softer tone, you added “They're a lively bunch; reminds me that not everything in this place is emotionally dead.”

“What about me then?” Childe smirked as he leaned his elbows on your desk. “Am I emotionally dead too?”

“Nah, you're alright.” Your eyes twinkled as they locked with his as your boyfriend placed two containers of homemade lunch on the table. Much better than the cafeteria food especially considering who prepared it. “So, how're the recruits?”

“They're not half-bad,” Childe said between bites. “Well, if you compare them to freshly born bunnies at least. How's Her Majesty?”

“Peachy. What's on the agenda for this afternoon?”

“Just running some errands. I saw you're in for a bit of fun with some newbies too.”

“Don't remind me. As if dealing with them wasn't enough already.” Pointing your fork at him, you swallowed. “Forget the rookies, they're adorably fresh-faced compared to those nuisances. They've been here for a while, they've gone through frigid training. They're not new but they're also not experienced enough. They're itching for a chance to prove themselves without ever having had to face any real consequences. They fancy themselves capable agents already, they have a grandiose sense of self and worst of all, they're the most likely to act out against authority. It's always the same.”

“Every kid needs to eat their vegetables some day and who better to teach them a lesson than dear old mom?” Childe smugly said, leaning back in his chair again. The way you saw it, he was enjoying himself a little too much on your behalf.

“Is it too late to give them up for adoption? I'm sure Dottore or Pantalone would love to ingrain some manners into them.”

“But then we'd also be a couple of soldiers short of what we started with.”

“That's true,” you conceded. “Let's pray they'll choose a Harbinger other than me to bother.”

The remaining lunch break was spent not talking about work. Instead, you started daydreaming about possible home renovations, what to make for dinner or where to go on your day off. When the clock chimed to get back to work, you almost didn't want to leave the comfortable couch or the warm embrace you found yourself in. But alas, you had a job to do.

“I'll see you this evening then. Stay safe, yeah?” You leant up for a kiss as you straightened his uniform. His palms were pleasantly warm as they cupped your cheeks and he pulled you oh so close to him. As your lips connected, all coldness left your bones and made room for the feeling of home, so familiar and safe, it had you immediately smiling into the kiss. Never in your life had you wanted to be anywhere so badly as with him, so you only parted from him reluctantly when there were three mismatched knocks on your door. Childe fastened the cloak around your neck before booping your nose with a playful wink.

“My Lady, we know this meeting must be of utmost importance but there are recruits to be taught,” Alina's sing-song voice called out to you.

Walking side by side with your subordinates trailing behind you, you made for the main hall of the palace where you stopped in front of one another, all previous warmth erased from either expression.

“Tartaglia.” You offered a court nod which the man in question promptly returned.

“Columbina. I thank you for the most insightful meeting.” And with that, both of you turned on your heels and marched off in opposing directions.

You could feel your retainers' gazes bore into you as they practically skipped behind you but you shushed them before they could open their mouths which only earned you a giggle in return. Even though you didn't explicitly tell them about your relationship with your fellow Harbinger, they had picked up on the shift in atmosphere rather quickly. Despite their somewhat ditsy appearance both of them were a lot sharper than people gave them credit for, which really shouldn't come as a surprise considering you chose them as your closest associates. Around the last corner to the training grounds, you signalled for them to stop.

“Out of all the Harbingers, did we really have to get Columbina?” It was the voice of a young man, decent with a sword, terrible with a bow and even worse with a polearm.

“Shush! Do you have a death wish?!” A female recruit, all-rounder, humble, not a troublemaker. “Besides, she is the second of the Harbingers, I'd be honoured to serve under her later. Unlike others, she actually treats us like people.”

“Oh, come on. I'm sure she's the weakest one of the bunch.” Next to you, the sound of electricity crackling could be heard while the temperature was rapidly falling, yet, you held up your hand to hold your retainers back. “Like, that vision has to be a fake, I've never seen her use it even once. She's probably just a fraud or something. What could we learn from someone like that?”

“Stop it! I won't let you talk ill-“

“No, no. Let him finish, it's an interesting take.” Your voice rang out as your eyes flicked over the man rooted in his spot. “Go on, you were so confident about it just a moment ago. Or better yet, want to put your theory to the test?”

“N-No, my Lady, I-“

“Don't be shy now. We're all here to learn after all.” You strode past him to the centre of the open-air arena, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Pick a weapon of your choice.”

When he went to grab a wooden practice sword, you clicked your tongue and motioned to the sharpened weapons. The sword's rack clattered from the tremble in his hands as he lifted a blade from its holder, then turned his head toward you.

“I won't be needing one. We want to keep this nice and fair, yes?” Cocking your head to the side, your smile was a bit too thinly stretched to be comforting as you patiently waited for him to come closer. “This is your chance to show everyone how weak I am. I'll be generous and say that you'll win if you last 20 seconds after initiating the battle. If you manage to land a blow on me, I'll step down from my position as Harbinger. If you lose, however, you'll face the consequences of disrespecting one of the Tsaritsa's hand-picked elite. Sound fair?”

Among the other recruits watching with curious interest, a chorus of shocked whispers filled the afternoon air. Meanwhile, the two mages looking on inspected their nails or stifled a yawn.

“You'll really step down from being a Harbinger if I hit you?” Placing your hand over your heart, you nodded. “With all due respect, my Lady, aren't you being a bit too cocky right now? There's no way…”

“Why don't you cut the chit-chat and find out?” You crooked your fingers with a smirk. “You won't win by just standing there.”

With that, he charged at you like a bull chasing a red cloth, completely blinded by the prospect of winning. You really had to applaud his optimism, though it did nothing to save him from your foot hitting his fist the second he came within reach and sending the sword high up in the air. Delivering a forceful kick to his stomach, you send him staggering backwards before knocking him on the ground by hitting him over the head with the sword handle you just closed your fingers around.

As the blood running from his temple started soaking the floor, you accidentally stepped onto his hand which gave a sickening crunch in return, then you pressed the sword into his neck. Now, where had you seen this before?

“I believe I have won. Or should I grant you a revanche?” At the frantic shaking of his head, you hummed. “You're right, it's not what we agreed upon. Rules are rules after all. As for the stakes we established…I'm a firm believer that you should learn from every lesson, so today I'll teach you how to properly address a Harbinger. All of you should pay special attention now.”

“First of all, kneel unless I tell you otherwise.” You watched as he heaved himself onto one knee, swaying side to side due to the impact of the metal. “And be quick about it. Other Harbingers aren't as lenient as I am. Keep your head down and only speak when you're spoken to, it might save your life or at least a limb. Next up, with all due respect, which is none, do you really think your tone of voice was appropriate when directed towards me?”

“N-No, my Lady.” His voice was shaking as badly as his legs, tears and snot were already covering the part of his face you could see.

“We agree on something then, which means we can move on to the final question for today.” You pressed the sword against his pulse again. “Do you still think my vision is a bluff? If so, I'd be delighted to prove you wrong.”

The air around the training ground crackled with pure power as the winds around the arena picked up speed, harshly tugging at the recruits' clothes and causing them to stagger. Murmurs and shocked gasps could be heard as the others shifted uncomfortably on their feet. Perhaps there really was something akin to comradery amongst them. As the one to your feet opened his mouth, his answer was drowned out by the howling squalls which shook the landscape.

“Do you want to know why I never use my vision?” Without waiting for an answer this time, you leant down close to his ear. “It's because I don't need to.”

You tilted your head and pressed the sharp edge deeper into his skin as you took in his panic-stricken face. Then you lifted the sword above your head and swiftly brought it down. Turning towards the others you made brief eye contact before coming to stand next to your retainers.

“For today's training session, we'll practise disarming your opponent. Everyone pair up in teams of two, one will attack while the other tries to knock their sword right out of their hands.” For a couple of seconds, nobody moved before they bustled about. “Oh yes, someone please pull the sword from the ground and bring your comrade to see a healer. Today, if it's possible.”

An appreciative whistle came from the shadows next to you. “Quite the show, Columbina. A rare treat indeed.”

“Capitano, to what do I owe the pleasure of you following my lessons? Hoping to learn a thing or two?” Your voice was devoid of the boiling heat in your blood upon the arrival of your fellow Harbinger, resembling much more the ice that surrounded you all.

“I like this side of you, it's very entertaining.” He laughed as he patted a heavy hand on your shoulder and you fought hard not to slice it clean off right then and there. “Still, I can't believe you let him walk away with his head on his shoulders. How fortunate for him.”

“I've found people learn more from their mistakes with their heads still attached. Besides, he wasn't doing a lot of walking. Weak knees that one.” The mages barely concealed their interest in your conversation as you side-eyed the man. “Will that be all then? The show is over for today.”

“Oh yes, that will be all. But please inform me next time you put it back on, yeah?” You didn't acknowledge his leave as you closely watched the movement of the men and women in front of you.

The rest of the day went by without any further occurrences and soon enough you rolled your shoulders after bidding Elaira and Alina goodbye. Your thoughts were invaded by the images of a warm bath and cosy snuggles with your boyfriend, making your desire to go home even stronger.

So, you were surprised and somewhat disappointed when you came home to an empty house, the lights shut off and the rooms awfully quiet as you kicked off your shoes and hung your coat. Normally “running errands” shouldn't take Childe that long. Seems like this day was troublesome not only for you. You might as well get started on dinner then.

Yet, you only managed to chop half of the vegetables before the silence was broken by a key turning in the lock as a deep groan, heavy footsteps and the distinctive thud of a body hitting the couch followed.

“Welcome home, honey. How was work?“ The answer came in form of a muffled groan. “Shoes off.” Two smaller thuds.

With a warm smile, you followed him into the living room, placing the knife on the couch table. You squeezed next to him, sitting at the edge, running your hand through his ginger strands, carefully detangling the red mask and discarding it next to the knife. As your fingers ran over his scalp, Childe let out a blissed sigh, shifting to get more comfortable.

Moving your hands further down, you peeled off his grey uniform jacket, revealing the crimson red shirt underneath. Trailing your touch over the planes of defined muscle, you pressed down where most of his stiffened areas sat. This time he audibly moaned.

“Feel good, hm?”, you teased.

“Yeah, you're so good to me, baby,” Childe sighed. “Keep going, please.”

“Later. I'll make dinner and then we'll take a nice long bath together, sound good?” You planted a soft peck against the side of his head. “Just be a little more patient for me.”

As you stood against the counter again, you grabbed for the knife only to find it still laying on the coffee table. “Ajax, dear, could you hand me the knife please?” Your hand shot up to catch the handle right before the blade could pierce your skin. “Thank you.”

“Would you please start catching them a few seconds earlier? One of these days it's actually going to hit you, you know.” His voice sounded closer now, his spot on the couch abandoned in favour of leaning in the doorway.

“As if,” you snorted. “You can't even get a hit in when you're actually trying, so I'll be fine.”

“That's just because you're such a small target,” he whined.

“Maybe you should use those long arms of yours, then, to land a blow,” you mused, winking at him over his shoulder before returning your attention to the poor cucumber on your cutting board.

“You mean like this?” The knife clattered onto the counter as Childe wrapped his arms around you from behind and spun you around, merrily laughing at your surprised squeal. “Caught you, I'm not gonna let you go again now.”

“Ajax! Let me down, I still need to prepare dinner!” Your sentence came out stuttered between your laughter as you half-heartedly thrashed in his hold. His only response was to hoist you up into carrying bridal style.

“I'll help you later. For now, I want all your attention to myself.” There was no hint of exhaustion as he marched straight towards the bath and set you down on the sink, coming to stand between your legs. “I know we don't talk about work at home but I heard about what you did today and I gotta say, that was attractive as hell.”

He didn't even give you the chance to respond, before his mouth was on yours, his hands greedily pulling you closer. The kisses you shared throughout the day had been sweet and playful but there was nothing of that innocence to be found now. Instead, his tongue swiped over your bottom lip with fervent hunger before tangling with yours. Gripping the countertop with one hand as your other arm lazily draped over his shoulder, you felt him cup the back of your head in his palm, the material of the gloves he hadn't bothered to take off massaging against your scalp.

“Ajax,” you breathed out as his lips started mapping out the expanse of your jaw, down your neck and to your collarbones, using the hand in your hair to angle your head to give him better access. “Don't leave any marks on my neck, I can't cover them up well enough.”

“So, everywhere else is fair game?” You didn't miss the hint of mischief in his voice right before his teeth nipped at your shoulder before soothing the spot with a tender kiss. It earned him a light tap on his biceps but when he straightened back up again to level his gaze with yours, he found nothing but mirth, warmth and love swirling in your eyes. Smoothing his hands up your thighs, he wrapped one of your legs around his waist and pressed you tightly against him when you crossed your ankles behind his back, his long fingers covering most of the small of your back. “A bath sounds really good now, don't you think? It's a good thing, too, that you can sleep in longer in the morning. You might be a little tired after such a long day.”

And Childe was right. You were so sore the next morning the smug idiot carried you to the kitchen to “make up for being the one responsible”. Over the next weeks, going to work later turned from blessing to necessity as you were more often than not hit with nausea after waking up. This was enough to tip you off but the final nail in the coffin was your period. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof. 

You knew you needed to tell Childe but something made you hesitate. It wasn't that you were scared of his reaction, everybody knew he was a family man and he often flooded your mind with the thoughts of starting your own family. It was the situation you were in that made your jaw clench. And telling Childe would make all of it become a reality.

Keeping the baby would mean you'd have to desert the Fatui and secretly at that. A Harbinger couldn't have any major responsibilities towards anything but the job and a child would be an unacceptable burden you'd need to get rid of if others were to find out. You were weapons, chess pieces in someone else's game, bound by an oath. In that way, Archons and Harbingers weren't so different.

But betraying the Fatui would mean running for the rest of your life, never being able to properly settle and always casting a glance over your shoulder. How could you possibly raise a child in the knowledge of dooming them to such a fate? If they'd live long enough to grow up that is.

Reality, however, wouldn't change if you kept quiet about it and Childe and you had sworn an oath to carry whatever struggle may befall you together. Besides, he had a right to know, it was his child after all too. So, one evening after dinner, as you were cuddling on the couch, you gathered all your courage. Sitting up so you were straddling his waist, one hand came up to rest against his cheek as the other intertwined with one of his.

“Ajax, there's something I need to tell you.”

At the worry in your tone, his brows creased and his hand squeezed yours reassuringly. “What is it, darling? You know I'll always be here for you. It's a promise I intend to keep, so please tell me what's troubling you.”

“There's no point in prolonging this, then. It concerns you as much as me, you see.“ A timid smile found its way onto your face at the softness in his voice and the way his eyes stayed trained on yours. “Ajax, I'm pregnant.”

You watched him process this newfound information before you were engulfed in a tight embrace and you wondered why you ever hesitated in the first place. Pulling back, Childe framed your face with both his hands, a vivid spark in his eyes as he searched for the indicators of a joke. “Please tell me you're serious.”

“I'm serious, dear. You're going to be a father.”

At that, something in him seemed to snap and he pulled you forward as if he couldn’t bear the thought of separating from you ever again. The kiss was deep, sensual and oh so full of love. As his searing lips slowly danced with yours, his hands slid down your body to settle at your waist as his thumbs circled over your stomach, leaving a trail of molten affection in their wake. Waves of bliss were tugging you deeper into the ocean that was the man before you but you couldn't say you minded; you'd let them swallow you whole if he so desired. You could feel the excited fluttering of his heart matching yours against the palm of your hand. The sensation was only heightened by the vibrations of Childe's deep laughter which had both of you coming up for air.

“I still can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad,” he breathlessly whispered. Carefully he placed one hand fully on your stomach, gently moving his fingers over the place where a new life was beginning to blossom, mesmerised by the thought of his own little family. Pressing another sweet kiss to your lips to confirm this was indeed happening, he leaned his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses almost touching. “I must be the luckiest man alive; how did I deserve you?”

“By the same means through which I deserved you.” You placed your hand on Childe's and he swore he could see the stars twinkle in your eyes. But yours were so much brighter and more captivating than the ones in the night sky; he never wanted to look anywhere else ever again. “I couldn't be happier right now, which is exactly why it pains me to ruin this moment but… what do we do now? We've already been playing a dangerous game just being together but we can't hide a child, let alone a pregnancy, forever. They're bound to find out and they won't be lining up for the title of godparent, that's for sure.”

Childe's grip on you tightened as a shadow fell over his blue irises. “I'd tear Celestia apart with my bare hands brick by brick for this family. If I have to betray the Tsaritsa, so be it. This is worth it; you are worth it.”

“I'm sorry your Majesty,” you thought. Your fingers reached up to touch the icy delusion you had received ‘to freeze this heart of yours’. “But this heart of mine is still very much alive.”

With a reassuring grip on his hand and a daring smirk, you met Childe's determined eyes. “Glad we're on the same page then.”

“There's one more thing to do, though, and I think now's the perfect time,” Childe announced. You shot him a curious glance as he carefully lifted you out of his lap and came to stand before you before pulling you to your feet as well. His eyes shone with delight as he chuckled at your confused expression. “With our little family growing, this is the only right conclusion, is it?”

Not letting go of your hands, he slowly got down on one knee and a fond smile graced his features when he saw your expression catching up with his actions.

“Truth is, there's something I wanted to tell you as well. I guess it's more of a question really but it's been on my mind for a long while now and I'm dying to hear your answer.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a beautiful ring and held it up between you. “Will you marry me?”

You had thrown yourself on him before he could even register the excited string of “Yes!”s leaving your mouth, tears now flowing freely as he cushioned your fall. Both of you were radiating like the sun when he carefully slipped the wedding band onto your left ring finger before pulling out one for you to give him. When you calmed down, you rested your head on his chest, hands intertwined as he absentmindedly traced circles onto your waist.

“I, (Y/n), take you, Ajax, to be my husband, to cherish and to hold from this day forward. Not even death shall do us part,” you whispered into the calm of your living room.

“I, Ajax, take you, (Y/n), to be my wife, to dote on and to protect from this day forward. Not even death shall do us part.” You smiled into the sweet kiss as you wondered how you got so fortunate to call this man yours.

You spent the next couple of weeks planning your escape from the Fatui, double and triple checking every little detail and every possible outcome. It was clear as ice that a single mistake would probably cost you your lives but you had both endured your god-given fate only to end up in the arms of the Fatui, where you clawed your way to the top. If anyone was tough, daring and skilled enough to pull this off, it would be you two. And at first, your plan seemed possible. That was until everything started going south.

“What do you mean Rosalyne is dead?” Pierro's voice echoed through the frosty chambers. “And on top of that, the Balladeer betrayed her Majesty and vanished with the Gnosis. Preposterous!”

The messenger bowed his head even lower as he repeated the dreadful news. When the voices of the other Harbingers were raised as well, he took it as his cue and quickly took leave. You let the others squabble amongst themselves for a while as you looked onto the scene. It was hard to tell whether they were angrier about the passing of one of our own or about the disappearance of the God of Eternity's Gnosis. Either way, it seemed wise to interrupt their petty disputes before tensions could rise even higher.

“Please, calm down, everyone”, you said and despite not raising your voice, the chatter stopped almost immediately. “This is not something to get so excited about.”

“Rosalyne died! How should we not be upset?”

“Do you not care about our duty to the Tsaritsa?”

“Naturally, I am just as appalled by these turns of events as you are and I'm not saying we should go about our days as if nothing happened,” you explained. “I'm merely asking you not to lose your heads over this. Antagonising one another won't bring any progress at all.”

“I must say I agree with Columbina.” It was Pulcinella who spoke up first and broke the silence that had befallen the room. “We will mourn the death of our fellow Harbinger appropriately, then we will strategise on how best to track down the Balladeer and recover the Gnosis.”

That was what you agreed on, at least. But feelings are not so easily repressed just because one wants them to be. The one unifying trait among the Harbingers had been their loyalty to the Tsaritsa and the cause. If they couldn't agree on anything else, they were brought together by the oath they swore. Now, however, even this flimsy string had snapped and they drifted further apart still. 

Who would betray them next? Could you trust in anyone else besides yourself even with the most trivial matters? Shouldn't possible threats be disposed of? These were the doubts lingering inside the Harbingers' eyes whenever their gazes would cross. Lies, manipulation and intrigues had been part of everyone's lives for long enough to become second nature, so it was no surprise their suspicions turned against each other. 

For Childe and you, however, this was like balancing on a tightrope without a safety net. The starting line for your escape had just been reset to an unbridgeable distance. With everyone's guards raised impossibly higher than before, one wrong glance could send you hurdling down towards your demise. But with your family's lives on the line, you couldn't backtrack now. It might have become harder but not unthinkable.

“Lady Columbina, Her Majesty has requested an audience.”

It wasn't the cold which sent shivers down your spine as you saw Childe already standing before the frosty throne but an urgent sense of dread which filled your gut and made it hard to breathe. You came to a halt next to him as you swallowed the lump of premonition lodged in your throat. The fact that there was nobody else even in the throne room didn't help to soothe your nerves, if only it served to worsen your fears.

“You summoned us, Your Majesty?” Despite your doubts, your voice came out evenly and you were tempted to thank the gods. “May I ask what this is about? If it pertains to the Balladeer and the missing Gnosis, please rest assured, the situation will be dealt with swiftly.”

“I have no doubts regarding the matter of which you speak.” It wasn't often the Tsaritsa spoke to her subjects but her voice was unlike anything you ever heard. It was clear and pure like an ice crystal but just as cold and dangerous as the frost creeping over the ground and encasing all life within it. “In fact, I am leaving this case in your capable hands. You shall venture throughout Teyvat and bring home your fellow Harbinger as well as the piece missing in our collection. I believe by entrusting you two with this task, I'm eliminating all possible threats to our cause, wouldn't you agree?”

The front door fell shut behind both of you as you already shrugged off your coats and discarded your boots.

“I've never heard a more thinly veiled threat,” Childe groaned. 

“I agree,” you hummed. “I think we might have waited too long.”

“So, you really think she knows?” The ginger sank into the couch cushions and pulled you in closer by the waist as you took a seat next to him. “There's no chance that this is a coincidence, is there?”

“Hardly. The Tsaritsa might've abandoned her Heavenly Principle a long time ago but I don't think that made her blind to it,” you mused as you placed your head on his shoulder. Your gaze fell onto the stationary set still lying on the coffee table from when Childe excitedly informed his family of the good news. “On the contrary, it probably made her even more conscious of it. After all, love might be one of the few things that could endanger her cause. Case and point, us.”

“But there's not much we can do about it. We'll have to follow her orders until we make it out of Snezhnaya, then we follow through with the rest of our plan and go into hiding; can't exactly disappear from the Palace when everyone's sniffing the air for betrayal like bloodhounds.”

“I hate it when you're right,” you sighed which earned you a flick to the forehead and an offended “Hey!” as you sank deeper into Childe's warmth. “But leaving the Tsaritsa's domain won't exactly be a leisurely walk in the park if she threatened us so openly.”

“So, what I'm hearing is, we'll get a little bit of a warm-up exercise before leaving the country. How thoughtful of Her Majesty.” The challenging tone that would normally have you rolling your eyes at your dork of a husband couldn't quite mask the edge in his voice or the way his arms tightened around you. Had you already lost your footing or would you be able to hang on to that tiny sliver of hope?

“Hey now,” his voice was gentle as he pulled you into his lap and rested his head on top of your shoulder, arms wrapping around you protectively as his warm hands rested on your belly, “it'll be alright, yeah? We'll be together, all three of us. There's nothing more I could wish for.”

“Maybe I don't always hate it when you're right,” you cheekily replied, a teasing grin on your lips as you turned your head towards him. Placing a soft peck on his cheek, you basked in the comfort of the moment which you wished would never end as Childe guided your chin, so he could give you “a proper kiss”.

But nothing lasted forever and all too soon you found yourself walking the cold halls of Zapolyarny Palace again, only now, the corridors seemed much narrower than before, the walls seemingly moving in, leaving you with nowhere to go. The arrangement of the floor tiles reminded you less of diamonds and more of a hunter's trap waiting for its prey to make one thoughtless move.

Pantalone's scrutinising gaze, Dottore's mocking questions about whether you were feeling nauseous and Capitano's blade missing your belly by a hair width during sparring were not exactly comforting either.  You were certain Childe and you weren't the only ones who were given a mission that day.

Therefore, it was almost a relief when the date of your departure finally came. What was about to come would probably be hell on earth but at least it was something. The calm before the storm was always the most unnerving, spending it in anxious anticipation for what was to come, yet, as you triple-checked your weapons, you felt a strange sense of ease, the inevitability of disaster grounding you in the moment.

Pulling on your coats for what would probably be the last time one way or another, a sinking feeling settled deep in your gut as you reached for the doorknob. It was as if you stood at the edge of a cliff, the ground behind you slowly breaking away. There was no way to go but forwards but did that make taking the leap easier?

“Ajax, whatever happens today, I-“ As you turned your head, you were caught off guard by him standing directly behind you, his thumb tracing over your lips.

“Don't.” Childe smiled softly as he feathered a sweet kiss against your temple. “Whatever happens today won't change my promise to you. I'll always be here for you, for both of you. Nothing could ever change that. Let me protect my family, okay? Ready?”

You cradled his hand on your cheek in your own before turning your head and pressing a peck against his palm while catching his loving gaze with your own. “Whenever you are.”

At first, your trip to the harbour resembled more of a relaxed afternoon walk rather than the beginning of a no-return mission. Yet, instead of thanking your lucky stars, the hairs on your neck stood on edge as the unnerving lack of threats made your skin prickle.

When you arrived at a narrow canyon framed by high mountain cliffs, however, your little stroll turned into a walk to the gallows. As you took in the differently heightened plateaus surrounding you, you understood why nobody had attempted to stop you on your way there. And by the way Childe's shoulders tensed as he itched for his bow, you knew you needn't convey your own suspicions.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A little birdie told me two traitors would be coming through here today.” A gleeful voice echoed from the boulders, “Looks like it was right.”

“Pantalone. I'd say it's nice to see you but I was told lying is a sin, so let me ask you what you're doing here instead?”

“Ah, my dear Columbina, I told you already, haven't I? I'm here to catch some filthy rats, as our late comrade would've phrased it.” The smile on his face was too wide to be considered friendly but didn't reach his eyes. “I have to hand it to you, you are right on time.”

“Traitors?” You feigned shock and indignance as you stalled for more time to assess the situation at hand. “We're on our way to Inazuma on Her Majesty's behest, I see nothing treacherous about that.”

“You don't have to play dumb with me, Columbina. Both of you are well aware why we are here and we are well aware you wouldn't be off to Inazuma for the Tsaritsa's request.” At your inquisitive raise of an eyebrow at the plural form, both of you dropped your venomous smiles to reveal your pure loathing for one another. “Naturally, Her Majesty has known about your little… situation all this time and, when faced with the possibility of another deserter, requested the full support of her Harbingers to deal with this threat.”

“But not all of us are battle-hungry fools,” Pantalone threw Childe a nasty side-glance to which the ginger merely scoffed, “so, let us be civil about this. Get rid off the baby and this foolish dream of a family and return to your rightful place at Her Majesty's side. I'm sure she will be considerate of your situation and only minorly reprimand you.”

“I cannot do that.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. If you make me abandon my child, I will never be able to swear my loyalty to the Tsaritsa again.” With an unforced smile dripping malice, you took a step forward. “Besides, I've been looking for a reason to actually hurt you without pulling any punches for a long time now. I can't just pass this opportunity up. Let us be battle-hungry fools, comrade.”

“So be it then,” he scowled. Raising his hand in an all too familiar gesture, he signalled for his subordinates to take up position and mere seconds later, you found yourself surrounded on all sides.

“Not to be that guy but,” Childe's voice sounded from behind you as he had moved to cover your back, “I am quite honoured at the warm welcome.”

“I know right?” You chuckled as you eyed the eight Harbingers who had appeared next to their troops with varying degrees of enthusiasm. “Pulling out all the stops just for us, that's so thoughtful of them.”

“You know the Tsaritsa always gets what she wants, right?”

“Yes. But we are Harbingers, my dear. We defy the gods.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” The excited laughter spilling from his lips made you think you really had married a maniac but judging by the grin on your face, you weren't fairing much better in the sanity category. “Let's enjoy ourselves to the fullest then.”

The first onslaught of arrows raining down from the cliffs didn't even reach your near vicinity before being caught in the wind torrents surrounding you. Instead, they were flung outwards toward the soldiers charging at you. The characteristic swoosh of Childe unleashing his hydro blades graced your ears as you unsheathed your own sword to parry an agent's dagger aimed straight at your head.

As you slashed through wave after wave of agents, mages and skirmishers, Childe's presence never left you. He was always there to cover your back, not giving anyone the chance to even get close to you. In the corner of your eye, you saw the red flash of a pyro gunner reloading but you couldn't even ready something to take him out with prior to a blue charged arrow tearing through him. It didn't take long for the perimeter around you two to be covered in bodies, some still groaning or trying to crawl away, others completely motionless in the snow.

“This was to be expected, of course, but impressive nonetheless.” The slow clapping sounded nothing but mocking as Pantalone's condescending voice reappeared. “Now then, I hope you're warmed up for the actual fun to begin. We even brought you a gift to show there's no ill will between us. After all, you should be able to say goodbye to your closest associates.”

Among the faces of your former colleagues, you spotted two familiar pairs of ears bobbing reluctantly, trying to keep in the background. They were pushed to the front, however, and barely met your eyes, hoods drawn deep into their masked faces.

“Elaira? Alina?”

They hesitantly raised their catalysts “We're sorry, Lady Columbina, but they threatened to-“

“No, I understand. And I'm sorry, too.” Concentrating all your anemo power into the palm of your hand, you drew them in with a cyclone before abruptly pushing all force away from you, sending them flying straight into the side of the mountain. Hopefully, it would only render them unconscious for the time being.

A gentle touch on your shoulder took your mind off murder for a second. “Are you okay?” Your husband's soothing voice hummed. You merely nodded as you eyed the man in front of you like a hawk.

“Ouch. Cold-hearted, that one. There's really no comradery left in you, is there?” His chuckle brought you back into the present as you gripped the handle of your sword tighter. “I wonder what you would've done if we had brought those little brats instead.”

An image flashed through your mind. The stationary on the coffee table. A small house in a fisher's village. Three ginger haired children smiling up at you. How far would the Fatui go to get back at you both?

The hand on your shoulder tightened its grip, Childe's brain most likely conjuring similar thoughts as yours. If you wanted to hurt Pantalone prior to this, you wanted to see his head roll now. The air crackled with electricity and sheer cold as two delusions were unleashed, the power flowing through your body giving you a rush unlike any other.

“Let's kill them all.” All playfulness was gone from Childe's voice as he unblinkingly stared down the man who had just threatened his family. He needn't wait for confirmation as he charged at the Harbingers with lightning speed, backed by you following close behind him.

The previously light snowfall started to thicken as a white blanket started to cover the landscape but your steps were as light as ever, feet barely leaving prints on the ground as you dodged various elemental attacks directed at you. The ice spear you had conjured after you leapt high into the air missed its target barely as a mechanical arm shielded the person behind it.

“Don't take this the wrong way, Columbina,” the dreamy voice behind the puppet said, “Not all of us are here because of personal reasons.”

“That's true.” The voice of Arlecchino sounded, weapon raised and eyes fierce. “I've actually always liked and respected you a great deal but I can't have you turn your back on Her Majesty and the Fatui.”

“Likewise. I never wished to face you in battle either.” The temperature around you fell several more degrees as you raised your hand over your head towards the heavens. “But it seems some things just cannot be avoided.”

Dove's Lament froze the falling snowflakes above you into sharp icicles before you let them plummet to the ground like falling tears. While your opponents were busy shielding their heads or destroying the projectiles, you took the chance to sweep in but were promptly pushed away by a geo construct rising from the ground. Using the upwards momentum, you catapulted yourself high into the air and landed gracefully next to Childe, who had dodged a couple of metres away from the group. There was an awful screeching noise as a horde of humanoid creatures emerged from within the stone, hunched over, dragging their feet, stumbling, arms hanging limply at their sides. Their expressions were so vacant you couldn't tell if they used to be human or if they never were, to begin with. To be honest, you didn't really want to know.

“What in the abyss is THAT?” you exclaimed, the sight somehow more disturbing than most of what you had seen before.

“I don't know. But seeing how our beloved Doctor is here, I'm sure we all know who we can thank for it.” The arrow Childe fired dug deep into the chest of its target but the creature didn't seem fazed by it at all, merely approaching further as if nothing happened. “You know, I'm starting to starting to realise all our comrades were really mental.”

“You're only realising that now?” You incredulously stared at the man next to you before shaking your head. There was a problem to be taken care of. “Anyway, do the thing.”

The shadow of a gigantic narwhal spanned almost the entire width of the canyon as it emerged from the tip of Childe's arrow. As it descended from its arch, you aimed two fingers with the palm turned outside at it while pulling your other hand back like you were drawing a bow. The burst of ice flash-froze the whale in an instant as it crushed everything beneath a ton of falling ice.

While most of Dottore's experiments were squashed, the other Harbingers had managed to evade the worst part of the damage. With most delusions unleashed now, you didn't want to give them much more time to recover. Frost crept over the ground and up their legs, freezing them in place to give Childe the opportunity to cause chaos.

It wasn't enough though and as they freed themselves from their icy prisons, your element of surprise was mostly gone. And when faced with the wrath of eight Harbingers, even you two found yourself with your backs to the wall.

“Guess there's only one thing left to do.”

“To the bitter end it is then.”

“Foul Legacy, the devouring deep!”

“May you all find Eternal Peace!”

Unlike unleashing a delusion, taking this form didn't feel like a high. No, it was like the flesh was pulled from your bones, every muscle straining and tearing to accommodate the newfound power overtaking your body. Whether you'd obliterate your enemies or would crumble under the pressure, either way, this battle would soon find its end.

Rising above the ground on wings of pure white, you assessed the situation from above and then plunged towards the ground, knocking over opponents with your feathered appendages. You switched your weapons up to two short swords as you took advantage of your heightened mobility. Under normal circumstances, your enemies wouldn't have lived long enough to even properly take in what was happening to them. But the people you were up against were hardly normal.

You could already feel your every muscle beginning to burn as you willed for your legs to move even faster but you were caught off guard by a loud and terrifyingly familiar voice groaning in pain. As you turned towards the source to see Childe hunched over in pain, you registered the shadow coming up next to you a fraction too late and searing pain exploded in your abdomen. As you fell to your knees you clutched the handle of the dagger lodged to the hilt in your flesh.

“Favoured by both the gods and Her Majesty. I've always despised you. See reason, Columbina,” Pantalone said as he returned your furious gaze with cold apathy, “you won't make it out of this alive.”

“Yeah,” you panted. “But neither will you.”

His eyes went wide as saucers as he reached for his weapon in a futile attempt to reach you again but a strong gust of wind pushed him away from you. A rage you'd never felt before coursed through you and exploded outwards into a freezing blizzard, shards of ice and snow pricking the skin of those caught in it. The canyon turned into a massive cyclone with you and Childe at the centre of it, its force keeping the other Harbingers pinned without a means to escape.

“Ajax!”

The man in question lifted his electric-charged spear high into the air and plunged it deep into the frozen ground which cracked from the force of the impact. A blinding light illuminated the sky as jagged lightning flashed across the dark grey clouds making your skin tingle and your hair raise. The following thunder was so deafening it made your ears ring. But it led to the desired outcome.

The bang shook the piles of snow which had accumulated on the top of the cliffs and it came crashing down over you. As the avalanche loomed over you, threatening to bury everyone and everything in its wake alive, you reached for your delusion.

“Frozen heart,” you muttered.

Frost blue light shone down on you both as the dome of ice encased the eye of the storm, cutting you off from the outside world, the quietness almost startling in contrast to the chaos before. The calmness was cut short, however, when a deep groan and a heavy thud cut through the fragile peace of the moment.

“Ajax!” There was more desperation in your voice this time as you rushed to his side, ignoring the pain in your knees as you threw yourself next to him. “Hey, it's okay. It'll be alright, look at me, love.”

You gingerly reached up to peel off the mask exposing one of his eyes from where it had cracked. After you slowly pulled it off, your ringed hand rested on his cheek as you committed all his features to memory, as if you hadn't done so a million times before.

“Let me see you, too.” Even in the quiet, it was hard to make out his low words as his shaky hand reached up to free you from the mask covering your eyes. “I knew it… you're actually an angel…in the form of a human…Too bad I won't be going to heaven.”

“Bold of you to assume I'll be going anywhere you're not. After all, I fell madly in love with you the first time we met. So passionate and determined, can you blame me?” You reciprocated the love-filled gaze he gifted you with as you thumbed away the blood seeping from a cut under his eye. “Besides, I don't think they'd want me back anyway.”

His weak chuckle morphed into a sickly cough and your heart clenched at the sound. You fought hard to keep the serene smile on your face but you were powerless against the tears rolling down your chin and dripping onto his skin.

His ocean eyes drifted down towards your stomach where the silver of the dagger gleamed mockingly against the crimson underneath. You took his hand in yours and wrapped it around the handle, slowly pulling the blood-stained blade out of your body. With the last strength left in you, you tried your hardest not to wince at the stinging pain which fogged up your brain. After throwing the offending weapon as far away from you as possible, you pressed your linked hands to your sticky belly as you lowered your head.

“I'm sorry you couldn't experience all the wonders this world has to offer. Please don't hold it against us, my dear. Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much.”

“I'm sorry, darling,” he whispered. “I promised to protect this family and yet I—You—”

“Don't apologise, my love. If I could go back and do it all over again, I'd choose this family over everything, again and again. I have no regrets.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You've worked so hard and I'm so proud of you. It's time to rest now. I'll be here when you wake up.”

“No matter what's to come, I'll find you both and we can be a family…the three of us,” he coughed.

“I'll be waiting for you, then.” All energy drained from your body as you laid with your head on his chest, listening to the faintest heartbeat dwindle like a candle in a storm, images of what could've been clouding your mind.

“I love you, Ajax.”

But as you closed your eyes, you could only hear the hollow howling of the wind.

[marsbutterfly]

Skyfall

Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again”

7:34pm

The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.

In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.

You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.

He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 

The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.

You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.

Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.

The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.

Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.

She’s known as the Devil herself.

“For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen”

8:15pm

Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.

Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.

The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.

Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.

You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 

Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.

It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.

The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.

“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.

“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.

Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.

“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together” 

9:00pm

The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.

She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.

Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.

“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.

You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”

“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.

“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.

“They might not.” You say quietly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.

She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.

“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.

You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.

It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.

This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.

At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.

One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.

“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 

“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.

“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 

“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”

Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.

Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.

And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.

As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.

While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.

“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.

“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”

“Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart”

10:05pm

Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.

You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.

As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.

She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.

When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.

But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.

The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.

Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.

As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.

It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.

Tonight will be a fucking awful night.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

1:53am

Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.

The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.

By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.

The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.

You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.

Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”

Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.

Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.

With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.

You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.

“Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand”

Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.

Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.

“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.

“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.

“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.

“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.

You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.

“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.

You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.

Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 

“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.

“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 

“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.

Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

[vegalocity]

Hug while straddling for @purble-turble's Time Travel Red and MK?

Affection meme

31. Hugging While straddling partner

Eyyyy lmao I'm always down to talk about Red Son: Ultimate Enemy as told by @purble-turble

--

There was no such thing as 'loving mental illness away'.

That was one of the very first things Qi Xiaotian had internalized when he came to the decision to make up with Red Son after his future adventure.

He wasn't exactly the picture of mental health himself, but when Red Son stumbled back into their time period, jacket chopped in half hair shorn close to his head and so obviously choking back tears, He'd instantly known whatever had happened to him had been actual hell. (Of course at first he'd forced himself to not care for how angry he'd been with Red Son after he'd told him about his parents plan and how he'd been a willing pawn in it, but that was beside the point)

So once he'd been properly brought upt to date on the exacts of the nightmare-future, and they'd started the process of looking for a therapist for Red Son, as clearly, he'd needed it, Xiaotian had taken it upon himself to do some research on his own time. it was a little difficult, he didn't want Red to find out about it until he actually had a better sense of what he should be doing, but since Red Son rarely seemed to be able to sleep anymore (even when Xiaotian could get him to lay with him in bed it was clear what little sleep he did get was rife with nightmares) and when he did sleep through the night he would wake up earlier than him, and they lived together... his most constant time for research was usually when he was technically on the clock.

But he'd gotten a couple of books about Post-traumatic stress disorder, general psychology, and 'So you've got a loved one with severe depression' (an actual title) and he'd scribble notes into the margins and on sticky notes when there was time between deliveries. And the first lesson every single one of those books had for him was just that.

You can't 'love someone out of their illness'. That's not a thing. The best you can do is love them through it.

So he did his best with that.

On some days that was just sending texts full of cute animal gifs and heart emojis, on some that was coming up to the loft on break to sit next to the lump of pillows and blankets on the bed and (after finding the telltale hint of short red hair that gave away where his head was) resting a hand on the part of the lump that was most likely an arm, gently rubbing it, and sitting in silence until his break ended.

And on some days it was this.

"It's not safe you're not safe I'm gonna slip up eventually-" Red Son's voice was fragile and warbling as his actions contradicted his words, hands scrabbling up and down his back and sides, gripping periodically for purchase before shrinking back as if afraid just hugging him back would crush him. "I'm gonna do something-"

"You won't." Xiaotian was practically seated in Red Son's lap at this point. Red had been sitting on the floor, back to the edge of the bed when the meltdown had begun, so kneeling on the ground until he was rested on his partners legs did two things:

one, it enabled him to wrap him up as tight as he could in his arms without having to twist one or both of them in an awkward angle.

and two, the extra pressure would probably help ground him, make it a little easier to come down from this one.

"You don't know that" His voice was hoarse, desperate. and Xiaotian closed his eyes and squeezed Red Son tighter.

"I do. I know you, hun." Red Son sobbed into his shoulder and he felt his hands finally decide where to be, resting across either shoulder blades and balling the fabric they found there up into fists.

"I know there's basically nothing that'll make you believe it at this point, but you're a good man, Red Son."

"I'm no-"

"Shhh, my turn to talk now." he shifted a hand to be able to bury it in Red Son's hair. He could feel him ever so minutely relax beneath him at the sensation. "You saw your potential for being a bad person, and don't forget everyone's got it. I have it, Xiaojiao has it, hell Monkey King has recorded evidence for his bad person potential, anyway, you saw yours and you've been working your ass off nonstop to keep it from ever getting the best of you.

"And this shit is fucking hard, hun. You're fighting your own brain and the actual literal future here! and guess what? it might not feel like it right now but you're winning."

Still, he shook his head against Xiaotian's shoulder. he didn't want to interrupt again, but still make his disagreement known.

"You are." He pulled away just enough to be able to properly cup Red Son's wet face in his hands. "You think that Evil King remotely hacked Jin and Yin's stupid battle robot in that illegal mech fighting ring and made it throw the match making them look like idiots in his timeline?" Red's gaze broke from his own as he thought back on the fight that broke out the week previous.

"....I suppose not-"

"You think that Evil King ever thinks for more than a second about the ethics of what evil plans he carries out let alone hours of agonizing over whether something was the right call or not?"

"Certainly not but that's not-"

"It is the point, Red. You're not the same person anymore. Maybe you started from the same roots, but he dug himself back into the ground and you rose up like a fucking tree instead."

Red Son met his gaze again, and Xiaotian could tell he still didn't believe him, but there was a spark there.

The faintest, dimmest hope.

"You are a good man, Red Son." this time he made sure every word was careful deliberate. So there was no misunderstandings that could be made. "And I am not accepting counterarguments at this time so you'd better fucking take it."

When he pulled Red Son against his chest again, and let the demon continue to cry quietly into his shirt, he pressed a small kiss to the crown of his head.

"I love you."

Red Son choked on a sob, and didn't answer.

It wasn't an issue, he knew Red Son loved him. Part of this whole thing being a thing in the first place was because Red Son loved him. Red Son wouldn't be as scared of becoming the Evil King as he was if he didn't love him so he knew better than to take to heart the days where he just couldn't say the words back.

There weren't any cures for mental illnesses. There were ways to mitigate the symptoms, but there are no spells that cure depression, there's no potion of anti-PTSD, and no person can love someone out of their illness.

But heavens above did he wish it some days.

He'd give anything to make it so Red Son wouldn't have to be in so much pain.

But all he could do was just hold him tighter, and stroke the short red tresses between his fingers until the sobbing stopped.

It took less time than usual.

Red was exhausted and pliant by the end of it and let Xiaotian drag him about the loft, obediently (if slowly) eating what was pressed into his hands and then nursing the mug of tea he was given as they settled down on the mound of cushions and he put on that 'how things are made' show that Red Son liked.

He was asleep halfway through the second episode.

Sure, some days were harder than others, and sure, some days he'd wish there was a cure just to spare Red the suffering.

But he felt Red Son's head slowly loll to the side until it rested on his shoulder, breathing slow and even and looking for the first time today like he was at peace and-

He still wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Love You, Hun."

Red Son hummed against him.

--

Send me stuff!

[tommyhollandaisesauce]

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how 

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and  sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

-

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something! 

Tags: @hollandprkr​ @itstaskeen​

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 2 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Ended up writing a continuation of the first Marco’s bauble post, thank you so much to everyone who commented and inspired me to write more ^ ^

This was posted on my Patreon earlier this week!

Follow up to On Thatch, Marco, & the Whitebeards - Marco’s Bauble #1 , please read this one first ^ ^

Contains Koala x Luffy, Thatch x Luffy, and Marco x Luffy with bg Ace & Sabo, wow is that a combination of ships I never expected to see, but whelp here we are....

~~

~~

It's during one of Koala's Fishman Karate sessions when That Thing falls out of Luffy's pocket.

At first, Koala thinks she must have imagined it, because why would Luffy have one of those.

But then Luffy drops the stance she's been struggling to hold, concentration shattered, and pounces on the little thing that's trying to roll away from her on the deck.

"Ah, my Mystery Rock!" the mermaid cries, reaffirming that no, Koala didn't imagine it.

Koala stares with dawning horror as Luffy scoops the thing up, rolling the shiny blue bauble between her palms to make sure it hasn't been damaged. She's moving to stick it back into her inner vest pocket when Koala stops her.

"Luffy...where did you get that?"

"Oh this?" Luffy's eyes light up, and she shoves the thing right up and personal in Koala's face.

Koala can see it clearly, the aquamarine glass with shards of multi-faceted crystal and gold flakes embedded in it, with a small, dark core made up of none other than seastone. It's unmistakable.

"Thatch gave it to me!" Luffy continues, and Koala's already moving, spinning on her heel towards the kitchen because she is going to throttle that damn cook--before Luffy adds, "It's not from him though! It's from his friend! The pineapple-bird man!"

Koala freezes, her fury towards Thatch dwindling, but she still feels her heart pounding louder than it should be. She has no idea what a pineapple-bird man is, but the point still stands: a man had given Luffy her "Mystery Rock."

"Luffy," she says, trying to keep her voice light, hoping it isn't cracking with the hysteria she feels inside. "Do you know what that is?"

"It has a sea rock inside!" Luffy says, proud that she's remembered what Ace told her. It's seastone, but close enough, Koala thinks. "It's got glass and stuff on the outside, so I can touch it without getting tired! But it still feels like the sea! It's my magical Mystery Rock!"

Koala nods and smiles, even though she feels her lips strain. "Anything else?"

Luffy blinks. She couldn't be more obvious about pulling a blank, for which Koala is immensely grateful.

Okay, okay. So. Luffy knows what the object is, but probably doesn't know what it means. Which means Koala can relax. For now.

She forces herself to take a deep breath. She shouldn't jump to any conclusions.

"It's a very nice Mystery Rock," Koala smiles sincerely, and it really really is.

Nicer than Luffy's likely aware of.

"How about we take a break for today. Do you want to go show Ace the basic water pulse you can do now?" Koala suggests, and Luffy beams with her whole face and Koala's blinded. It lasts only an instant before Luffy's stretching her arms to grab a rail, slingshotting herself away in the blink of an eye, leaving Koala feeling like a cloud just passed over the sun.

Koala heaves a huge sigh. She's never been more grateful for the lack of Sabo's presence during Fishman Karate sessions, because if Sabo had seen Luffy's "Mystery Rock," and if he had asked Koala to explain its significance...well.

Things would not be pretty.

And despite how objectively beautiful the bauble is, things are already very Not Pretty inside Koala now. She has some words for Thatch's friend.

~~

Thatch's surprised when Koala of all people enters the kitchen (Lil Lesbian No. 2, he'd secretly nicknamed her). He'd just kicked Sanji out with the trays of desserts and beverages they'd made, telling the younger man to go enjoy the sun while Thatch finishes cleaning up and starts prepping for dinner.

Thatch honestly wishes he could be the one to present the sweets to Luffy, but he's also mature enough to let this opportunity go to Sanji. The boy'd practically been twitching with excitement while adding the last loving touches to the parfaits.

It's fine, Thatch is an adult. And by staying in the kitchen, Thatch also gets to prepare and therefore present the enormous steak that'll be part of dinner (and which is Luffy honestly going to be more excited for, a parfait or sea king steak?).

Either way, Thatch's just about finished, and checks his dials one last time before turning to give his visitor his undivided attention.

"So, did the parfaits interrupt your time monopolizing my future fiancee, or...?"

Lil Lesbian No. 2 smiles sweetly, or rather bares her teeth, and doesn't return Thatch's greeting. Rude.

"Thatch, who gave Luffy the seastone trinket?" she demands without prelude. And huh, so that's what they're going to talk about. Thatch blinks. No, he hasn't forgotten about it, and yes, he's still bitter, but he's also a bit alarmed by Koala's intensity. It's just a nice gift...right?

"One of my crew mates," he says cautiously, not seeing any reason to lie. "My friend. Marco."

"Marco the Phoenix, First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates," Koala mumbles, and Thatch can see her pulling up all the mental files she has on him. Thatch has learned that the young revolutionary has a terrifying mental database of pretty much anyone who's made a name for themselves in any way, and reminds himself to never take his teasing too far, because he does not want to make an enemy of her.

Her blackmail-compiling finished, Koala smiles thinly. "So Thatch, do you know what that bauble is?"

Thatch feels like he's being tested, and whatever he says is going to be wrong. "It's a fancy thing you can buy at Fishman island? Costs a small fortune? The mer ladies always seem super happy get them as gifts? I'm not sure what you're asking here," he shrugs helplessly under her glare. He really doesn't know anything else. Fishman island may be Pops' territory, but he's certainly no expert on their culture beyond studying their cuisine.

"And your friend, does he think the same?"

"I don't know what that bird-brain thinks! If you're going to kill him, go after him, not me," Thatch groans. "Are you going to actually tell me what's wrong, or...?"

Koala seems to debate about something, and Thatch hears Sabo muttered under her breath. She then starts to chuckle, and it's a dark, unpleasant sound. Thatch is more than a little concerned.

"Oh the mer ladies like receiving them alright," she mutters.

She takes a deep breath, like she's hyping herself up for something, and now Thatch is tense too.

"Does your friend know," she says, voice so painfully sweet it's gone bitter, "that he's given Luffy the human equivalent of an engagement ring?"

Thatch stops breathing.

A beat, then,

"THAT BASTARD!!!!!!!!!!"

Ace pops his head into the kitchen. "Anything wrong?"

"NOTHING!" Koala and Thatch scream in unison, and Ace jolts backwards in alarm.

"Alright...then. I'll...be back later?" Ace blinks like a puppy confused as to why he'd just been kicked, but he still shuffles back outside, politely closing the door behind him.

Thatch feels pretty awful about making his little brother slink out of his own ship's kitchen, but holy shit does he not want Ace to hear this right now.

Luffy with an engagement ring.

Ace'd explode, then Merry would burn, and then everyone would drown and that's a very sad ending to their short-lived adventure.

"The fuck," he hisses to Koala, just in case Ace is still lurking outside.

"That's what I want to say to your First Division Commander!" she spits back, and alright, fine, maybe she has every right to be upset. "Who does he think he is, giving Luffy something like that? I haven't even asked her out yet!"

Thatch isn't sure that last part is entirely necessary, and mumbles, "My future fiancee," but Koala steamrolls right over him.

"Did he do it intentionally, or is he just an ignorant human like you?"

Thatch wisely keeps his You're human too comment to himself. "Again, I'm not him, I don't know!"

Thatch thinks Marco doesn't know the weight of the gift he's sent. At least, he hopes so. No one on the Moby Dick believes Thatch because they think Marco's always a stuffy mother hen, but Thatch knows Marco can play some pretty nasty pranks when he wants to. But Marco wouldn't pull something like this, it doesn't feel in character for him. He can be a pain in Thatch's ass, but he wouldn't drag in Ace's little brother who he hasn't even met yet. But then again, it also feels weird for Marco to not have looked up the significance of something he spent his own money on. It's all very strange and confusing.

Even so, Thatch is with Koala this time, and is totally okay throwing his older brother under the ship so to speak, because the bastard hasn't even met Luffy, and there's no way he'll support this "engagement," or whatever the hell this is.

"You know," Koala says, far too pleasantly for the mood. "Sabo's going to kill him when he finds out."

Thatch shrugs, he has no intention of helping his friend. "Eh, Marco can handle it, he's strong."

"No, you don't understand," Koala insists, and oh there's that sadism back in her expression. "Ever heard of the Fort Gray incident? That was all Sabo. And Sabo's going to murder your friend."

Thatch has heard of that, few on the Grand Line haven't. And...oh. Maybe Chief of Staff is actually a pretty terrifying title after all. "Marco's fine, he's strong?" he repeats, a little less confident.

Koala snorts, and spitefully grabs a handful of the caramelized pecans on the countertop and shovels them in her face as Thatch squawks protest. He was going to use those!

"I can't wait till Ace hears, because then there'll be two of them," she cronches as Thatch sadly rummages in the cabinets for more pecans. "So now the question is, do we warn your friend or not?"

Thatch isn't feeling particularly charitable, but he also feels betrayed and wants to know what Marco was thinking. The next time one of those damn birds comes, he thinks. He has some questions to ask the Phoenix.

~~

~~

The incident refers to the mission in Sabo's flashback in the anime expanded content at the end of Dressrosa. I dun think it actually had a name/location (could be wrong), so made it up and yes my naming sense is creative I know LMAO.

The beginning might feel choppy bc there was a big Koala x Lu part at the beginning that I chopped off bc it felt too irrelevant to the topic. Might clean that up for a separate post tho ^ ^;

As always, comments/reblogs/tags always immensely appreciated! <3

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 3

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[gingit-cake]

Therapeutic Gallavich

I’ve been wanting to write a tribute post to the Gallavich universe as a free source of therapy during the pandemic. I’m somewhat tongue in cheek here, but in a country (USA) where we have too little mental health support and too much stigma about mental health, diving into the Gallavich fandom and binging Shameless over the past 6m has been a really comforting coping mechanism for me. There is so much grief and loss in the world, so many ways our government and - for many people - our peers have failed us, that the fictional world of Ian and Mickey has been a wonderful source of comfort, in a lot of ways. It’s a retreat from the IRL shitshow. It’s got endless permutations of happy endings, to give us that serotonin boost and vicarious thrill. And given Mickey and Ian’s respective struggles - homophobic and sexual abuse, mental illness, neglect, parental death, incarceration, etc. - there are also countless fanfics that include therapy, recovery, and informal paths towards healing from past trauma. I’ve never related to a show so personally as I have Shameless, and binging it during the pandemic - when social isolation leaves way too much time for rumination, compounded by being at midlife and the reflection that triggers - it basically ripped open my heart and dredged up long buried stuff I’m finally willing to address. My husband and I watched the S7 finale on New Year’s Day, and let’s just say 2021 has been an emotional retcon of my life since. (I’m learning all the creative, literary terms.)  (And don’t worry, strangers on the internet, I am fortunate to have a therapist and the insurance to pay for it. I wish we all had this.)

There’s been a few fanfics I explicitly want to give a shoutout too as ones featuring therapy or recovery or conversations that have stayed with me in a meaningful way.  Excerpts, tributes, and links below the jump. Possible spoilers for Enemy Lines, Someone to Hold Me Up, Buy and By, and Etherized Against the Sky.

Enemy Lines, by J_Q and stars_fall_on - Ian has a therapist Dr. Lancaster, who introduces him to the concept of rumination:

“He felt a tightening in his chest. Did he even want to let go of Mickey? If not, what the hell was he still holding onto? A memory. A feeling. A belief that he’d made a real connection. But nothing substantial. Nothing real. // 'Ian, is there something hindering you from wanting to move on?" she asked then sat back, looking closely at him. “Are you familiar with the term rumination? // ... // Rumination, as opposed to worry, very often focuses on loss and an overpowering need to understand why something happened.' She continued to watch him closely as she spoke. 'While emotional processing starts out this way, healthy processing leads to acceptance and a release of negative emotions, but rumination keeps you stuck in a pattern.’”

THIS is my brain in a nutshell. As I wrote in a comment on one of the chapters to this amazing slow burn, enemies-to-lovers fic, I’ve got relationships from 20y+ ago that I still brood over. I’m working on letting go and the Gallavich universe has been a creative inspiration for doing some of that work. 

Someone to Hold Me Up, by @westernredcedar - Mickey has a conversation with an OC about forgiveness, after reconnecting with Ian in this hurt/comfort fic:

“'You ever have to forgive your guy for something?' Mickey asks. // Mel laughs. 'Of course. Daily, actually. The man’s a damn slob.' // Mickey snorts, but then he runs his hand over his mouth and tries to actually get to the point. ‘What about something big?' // Mel looks like he’s considering the question thoughtfully, and Mickey realizes that somewhere in the midst of all this madness, he’s really gotten to like this guy. 'I have lots of thoughts about forgiveness, actually,” Mel says with an eyebrow raised. “So you may not want to get me started on that theme. But it’s more about my parents and my sister than about Jeffrey, if that matters. I guess for me it all boils down to this: would it cost me more to forgive or cost me more to stay angry? And my answer to that question is not the same for everyone.’”

This conversation about forgiveness has really stayed with me. One of the reasons I’ve realted so much to the character of Ian Gallagher is I had a hothead brunet of a boyfriend in high school during that same age range (15-17) who is probably the same height as Noel Fisher and caused no shortage of DRAMA in my life, and it didn’t end well. (We were definitely NOT soulmates.) I am serious when I say Shameless and Gallavich specifically helped me let a lot of this 30y old angst go. This exchange b/w Mickey and Mel gets at it - it was costing ME a lot to hang on to this past. 

By and By, by @nowherenj - This one I’m not going to excerpt, because it was the whole story that moved me. Nowherennj draws on their experience in recovery, and this slow burn is both beautifully written and a primer on being in recovery. This was really helpful for me, as I have close friends and family who are in recovery, some with a dual diagnosis (drug use + mental health diagnosis), and this story’s generous attention to detail helped illustrate their experiences for me in a way that we don’t talk about on a regular basis. One of the reasons I identify so strongly with Shameless is because I come from a big sprawling Irish-American family with a lot of addiction and mental illness in it. This fic about Ian and Mickey in recovery makes explicit much of what I think my family hovers around because it can be so hard to talk about openly. I wept reading this one when the author brought in The Avett Brothers’ No Hard Feelings - how I want to live my life.   

Etherized against the Sky, by Snarfle - This one is less about my own therapeutic journey and more about what I hope I can be for young adults that I work with now. It has a character in it named Mr. Strickland, who is a very important father figure for Mickey. I was a professor for a decade, and still mentor young adults in my current job. I think one of the unsung roles that I experienced in academia is too be a mentor for young people. Some instructors are just about curriculum and grading, but when you cross paths with young adults at the beginning of this stage of life, figuring their sh*t out, the ability to be a kind and safe source of input and an active, non-judgemental listener is honestly the most fulfilling aspect of working with students and young professionals, in my view. Maybe it’s because the years 15-25 were such chaos for me, but I love working with people this age (and probably why I hang around on Tumblr despite my near eligibility for AARP lol). You’ve got your whole life in front of you! So many possibilities! Full of hot boyfriends and tomato plants and rescue dogs and heated pools. :) 

There are surely more, I’ve realized that “hurt/comfort” is a great tag for these kinds of stories. But this post is already too long. Thanks to all of you in the fandom who have created art and narrative that have kept me coming back for more, and not feeling so alone in the pandemic. We are a mighty little community!

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

More Awesome NPCs of Ravnica

NPCs are one of the most important tools in a DM’s campaign. Your assorted guards, informants, bartenders, hench-persons, random civilians, and, of course, your quest-givers. Optimistically, you hope to have certain NPCs stick around for a while to have the party build a relationship with them, as opposed to getting murder-hobo-ed because your party doesn’t like their attitude. Which is why it’s so great that Ravnica is filled with cool NPCs who are definitely stronger than your party (for a while)!

A couple notes; I already did a list of Awesome NPCs, focusing on the Ladies of Ravnica, so this time I thought I’d try and give the boys (and Melek) some spotlight. Secondly, as I’ve by now made annoyingly apparent, I’m focusing on characters in the modern era of Ravnica, i.e. after the Decamillennial, because everything before the Decamillennial is a nightmare to figure out and you don’t need that headache.

Tajic, Blade of the Legion

You can’t have the Boros without Tajic. Well, you can, but you don’t want to. Tajic is the Legion’s Champion as well as their Mazerunner, and embodies all the ideals the Legion stands for. Unity, strength, passion; an unbreakable shield against all who would threaten Ravnica’s citizens. He is technically considered a Firefist, but special considerations should be made to give him the flavor he really deserves. Both of Tajic’s MTG cards have had some manner of protection against damage when involving other creatures. In addition, Firefists are actually primarily spellcasters, whereas Tajic is never seen without a blade in his hand or his name. So, to sum up, take a Firefist, add in some manner of damage resistance or even immunity contingent upon having allies present, throw in a weapon trick or two for his big wavy sword, and ta-da! You’ve got Tajic!

Momir Vig, Simic Visionary

I know I said no pre-Decamillennial, but Momir Vig is a special case. Technically, the former Guildmaster is dead, but the shadow of his reign still lingers over the Simic Combine. Momir Vig symbolizes everything Ravnica fears about the Combine; progress without restraint. Vig’s cytoplasts were oozes designed for personalized evolution in subjects to correct flaws and deficiencies (regrowing lost limbs, bolstering weakened immune systems, extra brain cells, etc). The only problem is that the project worked so well that Vig stopped seeing the need for consent, creating a new form of cytoplast that only needs to touch a host to bond with it. This raised some understandable concerns among Ravnican citizens, as well as the other Guilds. These concerns went to 11 when Vig’s Project Kraj, a gargantuan organism composed of thousands of cytoplasts, was activated to purge Ravnica and start over with a fresh slate. They went to a further 12 when Vig was killed, Project Kraj summoned every cytoplasm back to it (maiming, crippling, or killing a large number of hosts), and proceeded to go on a rampage that only ended after it ate Rakdos and went into a coma.

Momir Vig is exactly the kind of mad scientist to escape the grave, go underground, and continue his research unimpeded until it’s ready. A Rogue Guildmaster with no boundaries, or as we like to call it, a ready-made Big Bad.

Melek, Izzet Paragon

As with Vig, Melek is canonically dead, but that sort of “dead” that could conceivably be temporary if the story requires it. Melek is a Weird designed by Niv-Mizzet himself to be the Izzet Mazerunner. A certain sparkmage had other ideas however, so he absorbed the sentient being of pure elemental energy into himself at the start of the Maze and took its place, then tried to shock the other runners to death because, you know, winning. But following the physics principle that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed into a different form, it’s believable that Melek could return someday. Probably with a grudge against said sparkmage. Melek is a fascinating build, combining high-level spellcasting with complete elemental resistance or possibly even immunity. Basically, a wizard who can tank. Even more intriguing, any lab run by a being composed of pure energy would be calibrated to channel said energy, possibly allowing short-range teleportation within said lab. This is a brilliant exercise in lair mechanics, so don’t hold back. Lest we forget Melek is a personal project of the Firemind, aka, the single most brilliant, powerful, and egocentric fire-breathing ancient dragon wizard in Ravnican history.

Tomik Vrona, Distinguished Advokist

Given the Orzhov Syndicate’s seeming fascination with being a faceless hierarchy of priests, lawmages, ghosts, tax collectors, etc; it’s nice to have another face with a name. Tomik Vrona is a lawmage who apprenticed under Teysa Karlov herself, making him a master of Ravnican law. It also makes him uncharacteristically open to relationships with other Guilds, as he is effectively Teysa’s link to the outside world during her imprisonment. Tomik carries a strong respect for the law, but is a passionate lover of interesting & creative loopholes. In short, he’s not inherently evil/greedy like most of the Syndicate, but still has ambition in spades. He prefers to use gargoyles for transportation, treasures every book he owns, and is canonically dating/living with that hot-tempered sparkmage mentioned previously. Whether the relationship is public or not is up to you. I personally see it as a measure of trust between the NPCs and the party; it’s a pretty controversial pairing of Guilds. It could even be a Romeo & Juliet (Julio?) kind of affair, just putting that out there.

Vorel of Hull Clade

If Momir Vig represents the dark side of the Simic Combine’s experiments, Vorel represents the infinite possibility they can offer. A former Gruul shaman, he made the decision to give up a piece of his clan’s territory to a Boros Legion garrison to better fortify their home turf, and was nearly killed when they turned on him for perceived cowardice. Vorel escaped and joined the Combine, where he was given Merfolk traits and an environment that embraced his ideas & strategic thinking. Vorel is extremely grateful to his new Guild, and believes himself to be an example of how anything is possible through the Simic, no matter one’s origins. His strong passion & drive have led to great breakthroughs, but he’s definitely more emotionally-driven than most Simic researchers. Here is a Biomancer that isn’t afraid to get dirty or bloody in combat. This could be a fun experiment in crafting a Simic Melee Weapon.

Tolsimir Wolfblood, Ledev Guardian

You know that one leader elf in fantasy stories who everyone else takes orders from but never fights themselves? Yeah, this isn’t that elf. This is what you wish that elf was, a warrior archer who leads his soldiers into battle atop a giant dire wolf and kicks some serious ass. The Ledev are Selesnya’s elite mounted force, skilled fighters, archers, swordsmen, and even spellcasters. They are the cavalry, the breaking dawn on Hornburg, the “oh shit” in an enemy’s mouth. Please don’t make the mistakes of countless fantasy novels by being on bad terms with such badass warriors. Having any member of the Ledev behind you should be a boost to the party’s courage & resolve. Having Tolsimir fight alongside you should be one of the greatest honors of your life. The chance to finally recreate that “besties” relationship between Legolas & Gimli as you see who can kill the most enemies in battle.

Domri Rade, City Smasher

I hesitate to include Domri, I genuinely do. He’s a scraggly little punk who nearly brought about the destruction of the Gruul (and all of Ravnica) ultimately because he was too weak and too stupid. I include him here out of respect for the lore, but you can honestly do better. Domri Rade was considered too small & weak for any Gruul clan, so he instead bonded with the savage animals of the Rubblebelt, eventually discovering he could incite them into stampedes at will. This new power finally granted him admission into Borborygmos’ own Burning Tree Clan, but he panicked during the burial rite of passage and planeswalked away for the first time. Eventually he learned to control his powers, returned to the Rubblebelt, challenged Borborygmos for leadership of the Burning Tree clan, and won by sending wave after wave of stampeding boars to trample the cyclops Guildmaster. He was enlisted by Nicol Bolas to help destroy Ravnica, and failed to realize that meant him too as an eternal ripped out his Planeswalker Spark, killing him. Domri Rade is basically a cheap knockoff of Garruk Wildspeaker, only smaller and weaker and dumber and infinitely less dangerous. He is, however, considered by many to be an omen of the End-Raze, heralding the return of the Boar God Ilharg and the burning down of Ravnica by the Gruul who follow the Old Ways. So maybe play up that angle if you include him in your campaign.

Ral Zarek, Izzet Viceroy

If you only include one NPC from any of my lists in your Ravnica campaign, you must include Ral Zarek. Failing to do so is denying your players the opportunity to interact with the single coolest character in Ravnica. He beats out Vraska for the sole reason that he’s a much more public & accessible figure than the Gorgon Assassin, and an unexpected encounter with him is significantly less likely to end in your death/petrification. Between his good looks, cocky grin, brilliant mind, and lightning powers that put Thor to shame; Ral is certain to make any situation more interesting. He’s a great contact to have within the Izzet, a brilliant researcher, extremely talented with designing gadgets or magic items, an astonishingly powerful magic user, and a fun guy to hang around with. He can definitely have a temper on him, so understand when to back away. Hint: His hair turns from black to white when his electromancy powers are activating. You’ll also probably notice the sounds of static discharge building up around him, perhaps a faint smell of ozone, crackling energy coming from his gauntlet, and, oh yeah, his eyes glow and his smile turns into a growling grimace of death as he fills you with lightning. Whether by design or accident, Ral is basically the mascot for Ravnica, and it’s almost unthinkable for him to be absent from a campaign set there.

[retvenkos]

not asking you who you'd ship me with in the grishaverse because at this point everyone on tumblr knows the answer to that probably (though any chance of getting more of your wonderfully divine headcanons about matthias & I is a chance I gleefully take), but since you are shipping everyone I have to tell you that I've been thinking about Mal & you together for a little while. I just see it so clearly??

I think you'd have a relationship quite like Alina and Mal's, except healthier and less dramatic lol. but Mal is the epitome of friends to lovers and to me you embody exactly that. you're not the unbridled fury that enemies to lovers can be nor the bittersweet inevitability of soulmates, but really this idea of familiarity and comfort that you only unlock after spending a lot of time with a person, probably in childhood. Mal would represent exactly that to you: home, family, and love, and you're not really sure how or when you realize that it's not the same love you used to feel at Keramzin, that your feelings have shifted in the most terrifying yet beautiful way, but they have.

so in this scenario if you are Grisha, you get tested and your powers found out and you get sent to the Little Palace and your goodbyes with Mal are probably the most tearful moment Ravka has ever seen. You're holding on to Mal for dear life because he's really your family and you don't want to leave him behind, they're taking you to an unknown place without him, and you're so scared - but Mal tries to hold it all together because he has to be strong for you, and promises he will write to you every day and you will never truly be separated because he'll find you when he's older and strong.

(as soon as the carriage leaves he locks himself in the dormitory and cries all evening on his bed because your absence is so loud in these silent halls)

Inevitably years pass as you continue your training and Mal's letters become more scarce - sometimes you're the one who forgets to reply for a whole month, sometimes it's him - until you're not in touch anymore but you don't forget him, you never do, and you dream of him so often and all the words you wish you could tell him but never got the courage to

Until one day, almost a decade later, he is received at the Grand Palace for a particularly triumphant feat of his (Mal, always the hero) and the King wants to meet the First army soldier everyone is talking about, and you happen to run into him as he's trying to find his way to the audience room (because how stupidly huge are these Os Alta palaces, really?) And you literally can't believe your eyes.

so you'd be getting the childhood friends to lovers reunited after losing contact for many years which is TOP TIER romance

and Mal has changed obviously but not so much, and so have you; and he's taken aback by your beauty in your purple Kefta, and suddenly all the petty and insulting stereotypes about the Second Army he used to joke about with his regiment friends leave his mind because Saints - who needs a Sun Summoner when you're glowing like all the stars in the sky?

you'd quickly fall back into your common habits because they never left you, they're second nature at this point - Mal has basically forged your personality from the youngest age and you have his, and you fit together so perfectly

he'd be assigned to a more permanent post in Os Alta thanks to his prowesses in battle, maybe as the King's personal guard, meaning you'd get to spend so much time together

People would raise eyebrows at the sight of a couple between the two rival armies, but you don't care one bit - your love for Mal runs in your blood much deeper than arbitrary oppositions based on foolish pride.

If you're not Grisha, I don't think you'd join the First Army; war is probably not for you. I think your paths would separate too when he joins the Army and you leave the orphanage with what little money you saved over the years (sneaking out of Keramzin and reciting or singing your poems on the streets for a little bit of coin, or selling the meat and fur Mal would hunt for you) to move to a bigger city and try to do something with your life. You could be an artisan, or another kind of shopkeep! I can see you being manually gifted and creative, so you'd probably have an artsy business in the capital, like pottery or tapestry or painting on porcelain or something of the sort

and once again Mal is called to Os Alta probably for the same reasons - he just can't help distinguishing himself in combat, can he? - and he steps into your shop by total chance, and he's like. Olive???? Since when do you do sculptures???? And you're like. Malyen Oretsev???? Since when are you taller than me????

(Though the sculpture part doesn't surprise him that much, because you were always so creative and gifted in the arts, and he's always admired you so much for it.)

(But the TALL part??? ok, you are short, but you left him when he was like, thirteen and he was Not That Tall. how can your forever friend have grown that tall so fast???)

And so you ALSO get the long-lost childhood friends rekindle and fall back in love trope because my heart goes mushy for it ❤

your dynamic would be on point, because Mal knows you better than anyone and so he can read you like an open book. Either when he needs to find the teasing comment that will get you all riled up, or when he senses your discomfort or sadness and has to find the words to cheer you up.

You'd just make so many sweet memories with Mal, and he'd be down for every single thing you want to do as long as he gets to spend time with you. Want to be rambunctious on the streets of Os Alta and pull pranks on passerbys like you are 8 again? Yep, can totally do that. Feel like breathing in the fresh air of the wilderness and getting out of town to see a beautiful sunset, like you would in Keramzin? Of course! Just want to chill together doing your own thing and relishing in each other's presence? Absolutely.

he loves when you read to him, whether that be a book you own or a story straight from your imagination that you just wrote, and he's absolutely mesmerized by your voice and how much emotion you put in it. (though he can't help himself from making little jokes every now and then or trying to guess what will happen next in the story because he's what my mom calls a Culo Inquieto™)

you'd generally be such a cute couple who never lost that mischievous but oh so comforting and familiar spark from when you were kids, and is willing to stay with the other through thick and thin. you've found your other half in each other and I'm so soft for that. 💜💜

sorry I rambled but I just think that idea is so cute and you deserve a ship! (also, don't even get me started on the Chaos BFF Duo you would make with Jesper...) my head is killing me so I won't write any more but just know I hold this ship in extremely high regard. <3

clara, i will have you know i waited until i got ice cream in order to read this, because i knew it would be an experience™ and now, i,,, 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i'm so goddamn soft, how dare you make me yearn????

you mean to tell me you came up with all of this... for me? you think of ships for me??? how—how dare? how dare you be such a good friend, to the point where i am baffled by your kindness??? how dare you be this thoughtful and poetic,,,,,,, and just, big brained, ma'am.

because all of this is so perfect!!!! ohmygod i'm soft. i'm in love. everytime you write a ship or fanfic, i sincerely wish i was a romantic like you so i could have a proclivity toward fathoming such soft romantic scenes,,,,, you, clara, know how to do a ship™.

(also, i have to say i love the childhood friends torn apart, only to come back together,,,, it has laughter lines by bastille energy,,,, listen to this song and tell me it doesn’t have the same vibes that that very specific and heartwarming trope,,,)

but, since you gave me such a beautiful gift, and since i would do anything for you, here are some more headcanons for you and matthias:

first of all, i think that you and matthias would spend a lot of time finding the beauty in small things. i think that it would be good for him, since he’s reevaluating who he is and his place in this grand world, and i think since you’re a romantic, small things would be important to you both.

— for example, you guys definitely star gaze together. it’s hard, since you are in ketterdam and the smoke is impossible to see through, but maybe you guys leave ketterdam for a while, and you spend a lot of time looking up at the stars. matthias loves to learn about everything you know, and repositioning himself underneath the sky is a good start to figuring out who he is. 

— you also like to sit by the water and talk. there’s something about the water that pulls memories from you both. matthias talks about what it was like, far away, in his little village before the drüskelle. (i get the feeling his dad was a fisherman or something,,,, the vibes are there), and you get to talk about people you once knew, dreams you once had. point is, you do a lot of talking - swapping stories and hopes.

— oh! another idea i can’t get out if my head is that matthias asks you so many questions. i feel like it’s a sign of real love and trust, when matthias starts asking you questions, because you have to be like,,, level 50 in order for matthias to admit weaknesses, and one of his biggest is that there’s so much he just doesn’t know. i think you also get really good at just,,,, telling him stuff so that he doesn’t have to ask, and he really just appreciates it.

i also just love the idea of matthias giving you to strongest hugs, or tbh, just holding you, and it’s all because he’s the big, strong one™! you know he’s got a protector complex, so that kind of feeds into his hugs,,, just that intense need to protect you, but also, he’s deathly terrified of losing another person he cares about, so he clings. (but only when you’re alone. the drüskelle in him is too Proud, but if you hang onto him in public,,,, he’s not complaining, just getting used to it)

okay, but i got a little bit ahead of myself, because i didn’t even talk about when you guys first meet, and the whole dynamic that is that™

— so, clearly, you are bffs with nina, whether your a grisha or not, and since i want fluff oNLY we’re just going to pretend like helnik didn’t happen,,,,,, they’re just friends. anyway, she’s the first one to pick up on your feelings for matthias because a) heartrender, and b) you two are the best of friends, and she just knows.

— and so you know a lot of teasing ensues, and almost everyone gets in on it and constantly makes jokes about you and matthias,,,, sometimes while he’s right. there. you’re Mortified But Coping™ and you can’t imagine what is going on through matthias’ head, because there’s no way he can feel the same, right?

— wRONG, we’re all idiots when we’re in love, and no one is more of an idiot than matthias. he is definitely ~soft~ for you but refuses to let it show because (1) the dregs are crass and he doesn’t want to give them fodder, and (2) you seem very uncomfortable about this whole thing, and he doesn’t want to make it worse

after some time, the teasing dies down, because both of you are too boring to tease. it would be funny if one of you freaked out, but you’re just,,,, suffering in silence. boring. and besides, inej and kaz are way more funny to tease. have you seen the murder in both of their eyes whenever you mention anything??? scary, but golden.

for the most part, the jokes die off, and i think after the jokes stop, you and matthias become much more comfortable with one another, and it leads to so! many! good! moments! 

— did i ever tell you matthias is in love with your stupid humor? your enchanting laughter? you’re so infectiously light and it makes him feel like he’s walking on clouds or something,,,,, he’s enchanted by you, but doesn’t have the words to explain it. 

— you know he remembers all of the little things his dad used to say about his mom,,,, and he feels all of that awed respect and soft warmth for you, but what to do with it???? he can’t really remember what his parents would do - it’s been so long and cold without them, but he tries to remember, and it’s the little things he does. he’ll tell you something really sweet in fjerdan and you’re just like ??? but it doesn’t translate super well, so you’re just left with the way he said it, and it means the world (plus, if you really get the courage, you can ask nina to explain it,,,, fair warning though, she scoffs at it every time. because it’s fjerda, alright?)

— you definitely end up reading him some poetry. it’s all under the guise of him ‘learning about the beauty in other cultures’ but really, it’s just an excuse to read him romantic shu poetry (they really know how to do it, let me tell you). and you also end up telling him stories about your childhood and your life, and he finds your rambling so adorable. especially since he has seen your work on paper! he finds it so sweet that your mind is so full of life that it wants to go everywhere at once, and experience every possible detail.

— you definitely end up showing matthias his way around ketterdam, and he keeps all of your hastily drawn maps, and whenever he goes past a street corner, he remembers the way your eyes sparkled in the light of the streetlamps.

i definitely have the feeling that you confess your feelings first. matthias has been trying to get the courage to do it, but he just can’t, and one day you tell him late at night - when, for just a moment, the world is still and quiet, and you can’t hold in all that warmth in your chest. you’re a little shy about it, but so is he, and when he hears you confess, all he can do is smile, because you have all of the confidence and strength he wishes he had. and all that courage laced in his chest, he’s learned it from you.

that’s ll i got for now, but i believe in clara x matthais supremacy.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)

[leather-and-laces]

Stevie A. Nicks Biography × History Predating Stardust Crusaders

NOTE - This bio is a HUGE Work in Progress. Certain things may change, and other bits may seem rushed.

)▬▬ BASIC INFO ▬▬(

• Name: Stevie Annah Nicks

• Nicknames and Aliases: Anna, Savannah

• Species: Human

• Powers: Stand- Isis [Egyptian Goddess Stand]

• Alignment: True Neutral

• Date of Birth: December 13th

• Gender: Female

• Hometown: Tokyo, Japan

• Relatives: Unnamed Father [DECEASED; Died from Brain Cancer], Unnamed Mother [DECEASED; Murdered]

• Occupation: Shipping Company Owner [Former], Gambler [Currently]

• Equipment: Sewing Scissors and Thread

• Status: Alive

▪︎ Part 3 - Age : 33

▪︎ Part 4 - Age : 45

▪︎ Part 5 - Age : 47

▪︎ Part 6 - 56

• Stand Name - Isis

• Stand Power - Red String Manipulation: User can create, shape and manipulate the red string of fate, an invisible conceptual string that bonds souls together. They can create an limitless amount of red strings and extend them at any distance and the strings never tear apart, as it is practically indestructible. They can make the red strings become visible and touchable for others, and also choose to apply changes to anyone’s soul, and as well control the relationship of those bonded by the strings, or even completely remove their bond.

▪︎ Stand Stats

Power - D [Not “Attack” wise; This is catered to the effectiveness of Isis]

Speed - B

Range - A

Durability - D

Precision - A

Potential - B

▬▬ PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION ▬▬

• Height: 5’9’’

• Weight: 162 LBs

• Body Shape: Hourglass

• Natural Hair Color: Platinum Blonde

• Dyed Hair Color: N/A

• Eye Color: Blue

• Ethnicity: Japanese American

• Skin Tone: Porcelain

*TOLD IN FIRST PERSON POV ONLY FIR THIS PART.*

▬▬ Back Story ▬▬

My father was a respectable man. A archeologist. And I, a archeologists’ eldest daughter and heir of his company, his golden girl. He not only owned a shipping company, he was a close relative of a museum curator, and also cared for the museum in Alaska– where we were often stayed at in the summer. As his heir, I was expected to learn much and so, I had my own private tutor once I was able to be home schooled.

When summer came to pass, we went back Tokyo. In Tokyo, I saw paintings in an art exhibit. I fell in love with their design, and took up the hobby of painting. I practiced and practiced, giving father and mother small gifts every once in awhile. He made it clear that I should not interact with the outside world all too often, as he believed it’d distract me from my studies after mother had passed away from a hate related crime; I was mixed between Japanese and American, bad blood from the second world war still remained. I, unknowst to him, was using this as a means of coping with grief, with trauma that had sparked my abilities; I always wished to alter the past, to manipulate Fate itself [though I hadn’t known it was fate at that time] to save my mothers life. I was about 6 at the time I first noticed my abilities. All the same, my father would oftentimes sneak out my supplies, leaving my projects vastly unfinished.

He did however, notice I had begun training my eye for the paint right after passing through the store on multiple occasions, and dreading with his daughter would whip up next. I could see things you wouldn’t believe; Red strings connected to every little thing with little dates etched into them, peoples lives… For as long as I could remember, I could see everything of this nature just dangling freely for me and only me to observe. I treasured these moments the most, this innocence in my abilities. Most of my paintings reflected things I saw in people’s lives.

I can remember everything so vividly down to an exact date and exact time in which my marriage that lasted a month or so, was quick to fall apart. I had just gotten into the gambling scene heavily at 24 years old and, undoubtedly so, I had made friends as well as enemies. It was no secret I was a rich mans daughter and heir that simply had too much time and cash on their hands to blow it all so I became a center of attention. My true gambling addiction began to grow from the time I was 16, as my tutor had accumulated a massive debt, and was the man responsible for sparking my true talent. Gambling. What few had tried approaching me in hopes of romantic interest, did so in groups, only interested in my cash or my body; Everyone except for him, or so I thought.

He was charming, handsome even, and he was like a god in my eyes for he made me feel special and loved… So when he proposed, I thought nothing of it and accepted him into my heart immediately. He was eager and I was nervous.

The chapel was empty on my side, save for my old tutor and an old colleague of my fathers, so his friends had spread out evenly.

My body, it was on the floor and it was oh so limp. I could feel it, suffocation as blood clogged every airway possible. So limp, yet I mustered the strength to say one name in hope someone-anyone-would overhear, no matter how faint or weak I sounded.

“Ricardo…?”

“No one is going to find your body, my sweet.”

With that, that Italian bastard left me to die, gagging on my blood. And the fool had the audacity to step over me as I was in the process of dying in my own pool of blood on the floor in the bedroom, blood slipping between my fingers from the wounds peppering my stomach and face from the bat he used to beat me with. Before leaving through the door, he stoked a flame to a scented candle given to us on our wedding… and smiled down at me “Thanks for the inhe…..”

I can remember blacking out and, somehow, by some miracle, I was alive; My ribs were cracked, left hand fractured and I had various damage to my face from the bat which he had chosen to bludgeon me with but… I was alive. It stirred something in me, like I had cheated the inevitable when in actuality a friend of his hand stopped by to drop off a box of camping supplies…

He planned to break my bones and stuff me in a trunk to better hide me in the nearby woods easier.

)▬▬ Stardust Crusaders Biography ▬▬(

A single mother turned thrill seeker, the longtime gamblers travels had landed her in Egypt; She felt seemingly drawn in, called to even, in a casino up in Cario. As a matter of fact, her exploits in gambling her brought her to make an acquaintance of the Elder D'Arby brother. The pair were rivals in the beginning; Stevie aiming to collect his thread of life, and he aiming to collect her soul, the pair would often play various card games together. It was always rather intense, but there was no success in their battles for either party, oftentimes ending in a draw.

These games together brought the pair closer, additionally, causing the duo to pair up to play games against people of interest. This also sparked the interest of Lord DIO, particularly her abilities, involving the alteration of fate on a human soul with the exception of the past; Her abilities complimented the Elder D'Arbys abilities rather well. He offered her money for her efforts, but she merely stated that she was interested in the thrills that accompanied her gambling habits, in exchange that she gets her children tended to with no involvement in this lifestyle she leads. She would oftentimes accompany the Elder D'Arby for his gambling exploits, even if she herself do not play games with him at all times, she ended up using her abilities to compliment his abilities with the soul.

She ended up, eventually, having her fair run in with the Crusaders shortly after the defeat of the Elder D'Arby. With her employ to DIO and the defeat of her friend, she challenged them to her own game of fate, before she was defeated. In a last ditch effort, she attempted to utilize her threads to grab herself a hostage for she knew her failure would ultimately lead to her potential demise. However, Star Platinum was fast, making short work of the woman and shattering all ten of her fingers, rendering her stand completely useless as she has no mobility in her hands. Her fate is ambiguous after this last encounter, but she is to be credited for helping place Anubis on that familiar path in which Chaka acquired the famous sword. Her role is minor in the Glory Gods, and ultimately, apart from complimenting the Elder D'Arbys abilities or her alteration of fate bound to a soul, she has little impact on the grand scheme of things.

She lives her life in shame as much as isolation, having been unable to raise her months old daughter properly, she had to send her child away to a relative in America until her hands recovered from their previous injuries caused by Jotaros encounter.

[lovingmyselfcore]

Skate Into My Heart: Prologue

Solangelo AU

This is slightly short than I wanted it to be😕 but I wanted to get it up. I have no idea how many chapters this will be but it’s here! This is for you @the-love-yourself-journal

"Hey Annabeth," Nico padded across the lobby toward the edge of the rink, his skates clutched in one hand.

Annabeth was sitting on the bleachers, unlacing her skates, but she paused and looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think it would be okay if I stayed after hours to get some extra practice before sectionals?"

"Oh," Annabeth smiled, "I'm sure it would be fine. I'll cover with the all-powerful Olympians," She rolled her eyes, "If necessary." She pulled off her skates and tossed them in her bag.

"Thanks," Nico sat down next to her to put his skates back on.

Annabeth stood up, tossed her bag over her shoulder, and opened her mouth to say something but was silenced by her phone ringing. She dug it out of her pocket, "Hey," She paused, and Nico could hear Percy's voice but couldn't tell what he was saying, "Yeah, I'm on my way out now," She smiled, "I'm excited to see you too, only a few hours you. Yeah, yeah, I love you too, Seaweed Brain," 

She then hung up, sticking her phone back in her pocket.

She was at the door when she looked back at Nico, who was now stretching against the wall, "Nico?"

"Yeah, Annabeth?"

"You are going to kill it at sectionals in my place,"

Her voice was so genuine he looked down, his cheeks dusted pink.

Nico couldn't see, but Annabeth was smiling.

"Tell Percy I say hello,"

"I will. I'll see you in a few weeks. I wish I could see you kick everyone's asses,"

Nico let out a genuine snort, "You'll be in my heart," He held his hand to his chest.

She smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated arrogance, "I know."

Nico just shook his head with an eye roll and a small smile.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it and laughed, "Okay, so Grover's outside waiting for me so he can take me to the airport, and he is getting very impatient."

"You'd better go then,"

"Yeah. Nico, seriously, you're going to do great."

"Not as great as you would do,"

She just shook her head, "I'll leave you to your practicing but don't spend so much time you overexert yourself, okay?"

"Okay,"

And then she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~

Annabeth had left at seven pm, and it was now ten. Nico was definitely getting tired, but he had to keep practicing. Sectionals were in two days. Nico has participated in many figure skating sectionals, regionals, and even nationals. However, none without Annabeth by her side, and definitely no solos, and he wasn't sure he could do this without her.

"You know you're really not all that great,"

Nico lost his footing and slipped on the ice, falling on his ass.

He looked over to see a man leaning against the doorway.

"Who the hell are you?" He exclaimed, pushing himself off the ice with a scowl.

He walked forward, looking completely at ease and confident, and Nico knew he already despised the man.

"My name's Bryce Lawrence," He held out his hand, and was looking at Nico with a look that made him immediately uncomfortable, and knew he didn't actually want a handshake.

"Why are you here?" Nico was still scowling.

Bryce lowered his hand, "No name? Okay, sure. I was playing with my friends," 

He jerked his head in a vague direction, "But they left, and I was about to, but the lights were on in here, and I saw you, so I stuck around and watched." He shrugged as if he wasn't just being very, very creepy.

"Playing?" That's when Nico took note of the jersey and narrowed his eyes. "Ice hockey, the uncivilized ice sport. And not even this city's team? What are you doing here?"

"'Uncivilized ice sport'? So we're playing that way, sure I can do that. And very astute of you," His eyes had also narrowed, and his posture got very stiff. "I'm friends with Will Solace, who's friends Travis Stoll, who's dating Katie Gardener, who is friends with Annabeth Chase, who told us it was chill if we played in your other rink."

"Wow, nice name dropping," His voice was pure venom, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He wasn't so supportive of his city's ice hockey team that he detested the other players on sight. And though their coach frequently drilled into them that ice hockey would never be as good as figure skating, they're uncivilized brutes with no grace in the rink, he'd never entirely bought into that either.

"Thanks," His smile was all fake. "Nice to know that you figure skaters still think you're above us and that you support your local hockey team so aggressively," His voice was dry and every syllable grated on Nico's nerves. "Wait," He paused and scrutinized him, and Nico knew that whatever was about to come out of his mouth, he wouldn't like.

"You're going to be performing at your, um-"

"Sectionals," Nico growled.

"Right, that. Well, you'll be oh so pleased to hear that I'm going to be there."

"Wonderful,"

Bryce smiled nastily, "You haven't even been practicing for this for a while right?" 

He cocked his head to the side, "You only just got handed the solo?"

Nico gave a grudging nod.

"Well then, I'll leave you alone to practice, you'll probably need it."

Nico watched Bryce leave with a burning taste in his mouth. He skated for a few more hours, with much more intensity than he'd originally intended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How the hell do you manage to make enemies so fast?" Reyna was sprawled across his bed. His room at his Dad's house was the perfect summary of him, dark and hopeless.

"It's a gift," Nico called out from his closet.

Reyna was basically his sister who had been the one to successfully pull him out of his ruthless practicing with her never-ending phone calls threatening him that if he didn't come home she would kill him in a, particularly painful fashion.

"Right. Look, Nico, don't let what this random stranger said get under your skin. You're good. Really good. Your coach picked you for a reason, you know."

"Yeah," He mumbled, jumping onto his bed next to her.

"You belong in that rink, Nico. They all think so."

At the look he gave her, she sighed and pulled him against her, "You belong, hermanito. You belong."

Reyna had been there for him through nearly every bad thing that had happened in his life, and he was so grateful for everything she did for him, which is why he allowed himself to fall asleep in her arms, her humming a Spanish lullaby under her breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, pay attention!" Coach Hedge exclaimed.

Nico looked up. Coach Hedge was a strange man. He knew absolutely nothing about figure skating, Coach wasn't one for the delicate appearing sports, but they're usual coach, Annabeth Chase's cousin's friend Thomas had to leave thanks to a family emergency, so they were stuck with Hedge.

"I'm an ice hockey coach! Not this," He made wild gestures with his hands.

His sister Hazel leaned over and whispered, "Why is he always yelling?"

Nico just shrugged helplessly.

"I need a volunteer! Someone who really knows their stuff!"

Hazel glanced at him, but Nico did what he did best. He shrunk himself down to hide in the shadows.

"Me! Me! Me!"

Hedge looked over to see who was talking and pursed his lips. Leo Valdez, a hyperactive teddy bear with slight homicidal tendencies. He was only here for his girlfriend, Calypso. They both joined to support their friends but found they actually liked skating, so they stuck around.

Leo was practically out of his seat, Calypso's arm wrapped around his waist, the only thing that kept him from tumbling headfirst down the bleachers.

"Valdez," Hedge said gruffly, "Lovely."

He scanned the team once more, his eyes landing breifly on Nico before sighing and motioning Leo forward, "Show me what you got."

Leo leapt off the bleachers, paused at the bottom to slip his red skates on then launched himself out into the rink.

Leo was actually extremely good when he didn't get too excited. In his excitement, he usually tripped over his own skates and flew off into the distance, which was one of the only reasons Leo was not going to skate with Nico at sectionals.

Nico looked back at Calypso, who was grinning as she watched her boyfriend, which made Nico unreasonably sad and jealous.

Coach Hedge clapped and called Leo back, looking surprised. "Well done, Valdez, well done."

"But now," Coach's voice echoed through the arena, "I was hoping our star would demonstrate some of his moves."

At his words, the team turned to stare at Nico, who buried himself deeper into the shadows.

Nico was saved from responding when a man burst through the doors. The first thing Nico noticed were his eyes, bright blue, gorgeous, and panicked.

"Coach," He called, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.

Hedge turned and groaned, "What happened Solace."

"The Stolls and Clarisse,"

"Of course it was,"

"You'd better see what they did Coach, it's not good."

Hedge followed the boy out the door, slamming it behind them with a shouted, "Behave!"

"So," Hazel said, grinning.

"What?"

"He was pretty cute,"

Nico blushed, hoping she didn't see, "Really? I didn't notice."

"Sure," Hazel nodded. "You weren't staring the entire time?"

"Nope. Shut up,"

"Good cause he's a hockey player," She wagged her finger at him, "Forbidden."

He just rolled his eyes.

"Sectionals are tomorrow."

"I know,"

"You feeling ready?"

"Sure,"

She looked at him with raised eyebrows, "Nico, you're going to be amazing. You're going to win for us."

He sighed, "I hope so,"

He also hoped he'd see that cute blonde hockey player again.

[larktb-archive]

Hi! I'm too shy to come off anon, but I need your help understanding something. I hope I'm not bothering you!!

I don't want to interact with anyone who is a fascist, but I'm not entirely sure what makes someone fascist. Can you please explain it to me?

I know I could look it up myself, but I know that not all definitions online can be correct and I just want your perspective;;

Thanks!

Hi anon! Well, fascism comes in many forms so “sussing out who’s a fascist” is technically a little harder to do than having a simple checklist. After all, doesn’t a White Supremacist have different beliefs to a Japanese fascist? And doesn’t a Japanese fascist have different beliefs to a Wahabist? These beliefs clash don’t they? Well, yes and no. Sure the surface level beliefs are different but the underlying core beliefs of these groups are actually quite similar; it’s the specifics which are different. Even though it isn’t a “bible” on what is fascism and shouldn’t be taken as gospel, Umberto Eco has an essay called “Ur-Fascism” which contains 14 points, which can help us identify whether certain beliefs are fascist no matter the specifics of their belief system. I’ll explain the points in short and give some examples. Quick disclaimer, I am not an expert on fascism or any of the ideologies I’ll discuss by any means so if you aren’t taking Umberto Eco’s writing as the 100% correct truth, definitely don’t take mine as that either (this is how you should treat most sources tho):

1. Cult of Tradition and 2. Rejection of modernity

I put these two together because they’re kind of inseparable. This is basically the idea that there was a “glorious past” that people need to return to and modernity is a corruption of that “glorious past”. In British fascist thought, this past is generally the 19th century at the zenith of the British Empire or mid-20th century Britain. The latter is more common for people who wish to be a little more PC with their writings; instead of trying to use a by-gone era that pretty much no one alive can remember, they use a much more recent time with nostalgic ideas of “the good old days” which doesn’t seem threatening on it’s surface but is dogwhistling for a time when there weren’t as many immigrants in the country.

You may have seen the “reject modernity, embrace tradition” meme and it’s pretty much the most obvious incarnation of this idea. Similarly you may seen people online use “degenerate” as an insult. If you look at the meaning of the degenerate it means “having lost the physical, mental, or moral qualities considered normal and desirable; showing evidence of decline”; it’s microcosm of these ideas put into a single insult. This is why you tend to see conservatives use it more than progressives.

I’d also argue that terfs obsession with 2nd wave feminism and their utter rejection of intersectionality and modern feminism is another manifestation of this idea. 

3. Action for actions sake

This is less detectable in terms of individuals but still important to note that these people tend to support action without a cause. Sure the insurrection at the white house earlier this year was action, but it had no substance behind it. It was action for actions sake, which is why any principled leftist didn’t support it. Fascists will tend to openly just call for action but won’t be very specific about the purposes of the action; as long as they agree with the ideology behind it they’ll support it. It’s why fascists love harassment campaigns and mindless acts of terror. Take Wahabist terrorist orgs like Al-Qaeda or ISIS, it doesn’t matter if bombing an Ariana Grande concert has no point, the only point is the action itself.

4. Disagreement is treason  

This one’s pretty self explanatory, they will ostracize you if you disagree with them. Again, terfs tend to do this, and I had a long conversation with an ex-terf I called a dumbass, who basically said that she was ostracized by them and mocked for having different beliefs (hope she’s doing well actually). There’s numerous stories from ex-terfs like this.

5. Fear of difference

There’s a tendency for fascists to group people into “us” and “them”. “They” are considered to be intruders who need to be removed whereas “we” are the people who deserve to be here because it is “our” right to be here. In Zulu Nationalism, this tends to be any non-Zulu speakers who they deem to be “Shangaan” even if they aren’t actually Tsonga, it’s just a pejorative at this point. If you see vague references to the “elite” without any reference to who they are and what makes them “elite”, this is tends to be a dogwhistle for Jewish people. Western Fascists have very little issue with the workings of capitalism itself or the accumulation of wealth by capitalists, they just don’t like “them”, taking “our” stuff. Any references to “us” and “them” is pretty much a red flag.

6. Appeal to Social Frustration

Fascists will tend to brush upon actual issues faced by the poor today but will instead blame it on an outside force. You’ll see job loss being blamed on immigrants or vague “elites”. Terfs do this too. They’ll see young girls who are genuinely struggling with patriarchal issues and divert all that pent up rage towards trans people and the “q*eers” (which they do tend to use as a slur unlike what most people would have you think). 

7. Obsession with a Plot

Everything is a conspiracy! The election was rigged! 9/11 was fake! that fucking pizza place/this furniture company is a sex ring! All of these are supposedly plots by the deep state who are trying to do... something or other. You’ll notice these “Plots” don’t actually have a purpose, but the fact that there is a plot itself is the issue. This is a way of engendering paranoia in the group while also feeling that there is a constant war against you even if there isn’t. This is also why, despite news sources being pro-capitalist the right will swear up and down it’s leftist media which is controlled by “them” (usually just meaning Jewish people).

8. The enemy is both strong and weak

“Trans people have infiltrated academia and the only reason people refuse to see gender as an immutable biological concept, is because they’re too afraid of the trans cabal to say anything. But also everyone can tell trans people are crazy and haha you have a high suicide rate.” It’s contradictory that’s the point. They need to feel that they’re both counterculture but also they need to be winning at all times so that contradiction is necessary. Also the use of the word “cabal” is a pretty big red flag for all forms of fascism.

9. Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy, 10. Contempt for the weak, 11. Everybody is educated to become a hero and 12. Machismo and weaponry

All of these are kind of interrelated so I’m grouping them together (also this is already fucking long as hell so I don’t wanna bore you any further). You’ll tend to see a love for the military or at least military aesthetics when looking through fascist blogs. Guns aren’t just a tool for fascists, they’re representative of masculinity and the necessity of violence. Pacifists and anyone who refuses to fight are weak and therefore are “degenerate”. If you do not fight, if you are not willing to fight, you cannot be a “hero” (an ubermensch or a matyr). This comes with the fetishization of violence instead of the recognition of violence being an means to an end, and the worship of individuals rather than of communities and organizations. Take Japanese fascists and their lionisation of the imperial military and their desire to once again have an actual army.

Terfs don’t necessarily fit these roles except for arguably 10 considering how much they seem to look down upon the mentally ill and those who commit suicide and surprisingly 11 since that involves the hatred of non-standard sexual activities and terfs hate non-standard sex (this is from the most vanilla bitch who is very uncomfortable with kink but understands its not inherently good or bad). I have a feeling this is more so because terfs are mainly women (there are male terfs ofc) whereas this was written for male led organizations. 

13. Selective populism

When fascists talk about “the people” they tend to mean “the people we like”. “The working class” can be translated to “this cishet white christian man from Minnesota who owns land but hey he lives in a rural area so he’s working class right?”. They’ll also tend to have “tokens” who will suddenly become the mouth piece of the entire community they’re supposedly representing even if no one in the community asked them to (i.e. Milo Yiannopoulos). 

14. Ur fascism speaks Newspeak

They speak in terms which are both inaccessible to anyone outside of their circles whilst being so simple that once you learn them it becomes easy to understand. They abhor any form of “academic” speech so you’ll rarely see them source things (unless those things happen to agree with their views, which is rare but Jordan Peterson is popular for a reason) and if they do source things they probably wouldn’t have read them fully and will rely on you also not reading them. This is to limit any critical thinking so that your brain is basically jellified into an unquestioning organ which only responds “yes” or “no” and only appeals to a higher authority without any form of reasoning involved. This is why they complain about “the lefts memes being too wordy”... because they’re used to not having to read (this is somewhat tongue in cheek but heyho if the boot fits).

And that’s the 14 main features of fascism, if anyone is displaying multiple of these ideas then they are most likely fascist, and if an organization or group continuously replicates these ideas, then they are definitely fascist. I hope this wasn’t too long but like I said... very complex topic. (Also hopefully this is written well, it’s 10 PM and I am surviving off Irn Bru energy drink). Hope this helped!

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

Annabeth “triflers need not apply” Chase

In my last post, I said “another Annabeth hot take” as if I’ve ever posted any of my musing about Annabeth’s character (the posts Percy’s Personal Sense Of Evil  and Every Time Annabeth Is Mean To Percy In The Riordanverse] do not count) here on the blue hellscape.

Two disclaimers before I write this: the first is that PJO is my jam. I’ve read those books forward and back more than five times this year. HOO...I’ve read as a whole once; read Son of Neptune twice; and recently skipped through House of Hades specifically for the parts about Tartarus. Every series beyond that in the Riordanverse (Kane, Magnus, Apollo) have been woefully neglected by me as in I haven’t even cracked the spines on them. 

The second disclaimer is that I don’t like Annabeth, she’s basically the Christian Gray of the Percy Jackson series. I ship Percy with everyone who isn’t Annabeth because I think he deserves to be happy. But some people were calling for meta so here are your hot takes, folks. 

Annabeth is only with Percy because he’s the chosen one. 

She disdained Percy from day one, thought that he was worth less than the mud on her shoes and made sure that he knew it. This was before she found out that he’s a child of Poseidon so you can miss me with the “well their parents are enemies” bullshit. After Percy got claimed, Annabeth invited herself on his quest because she’s all about obtaining personal glory and he couldn’t say no because he only had two friends at camp (Luke and Grover). 

“He wouldn’t tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn’t destined to go on a quest yet. She had to until...somebody special came to the camp.” [...] “Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she’s been waiting for.” [Luke] (TLT, pg 102)

“I’ve been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain.” [Annabeth] (TLT, pg 147)

She was silent for a few more steps. “It’s just that if you died…aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world.” [Annabeth] (TLT, pg 169)

Well, that’s not the only reason she’s with Percy. 

Chiron made Annabeth swear on the River Styx that she would try to keep Percy from danger. Which comes in handy during the Last Olympian, when she takes Ethan’s dagger for Percy (saving his life) but sucks for her because now her life is tied to his forever. Maybe that’s why she calls Percy crazy literally every time that he has a plan. 

“Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger,” he insisted. “Swear upon the River Styx.”

“I-I swear it upon the River Styx,” Annabeth said. 

Thunder rumbled outside. [SOM, pg 54) 

Actually Annabeth is the creepy one.

Luke always refers to Annabeth as such: daughter, little sister, cousin, family. From the moment he saw her, it was a familial love for him. He constantly reminds her that they were a family and that he wants to be a family. 

Annabeth, on the other hand, likes to call him “family” but she has a mad crush on Luke for the entire series that has got to be super weird for Luke. It was super weird for me, the reader. This girl can’t even hug Luke without panting like a bitch in heat (yeah, I said it, and I refuse to take it back). 

“This is Luke,” Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could’ve sworn she was blushing. (TLT, pg 84)

Annabeth blushed, like she always did when Luke was around. (TLT, pg 151)

Luke patted Grover’s head between his horns, then gave a goodbye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. After Luke was gone, I told her, “You’re hyperventilating.”  (TLT, pg 151)

It isn’t until Luke is literally on his death bed that Annabeth finally agrees that he’s a brother to her.

“Did you...” Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. “Did you love me?” 

“You were like a brother to me, Luke,” she said softly. “But I didn’t love you.” 

He nodded, as if he’d expected it. (TLO, pg 337/338)

NO SHIT HE EXPECTED IT. LUKE HAS BEEN AIMING FOR THIS FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS. HIS ENTIRE LIFE IS ALL ABOUT FINDING A FAMILY THAT LOVES HIM (and equal rights for all demigods).

Then there’s the other creepy stuff

Remember that time that she stalked Percy and fans are like “well it’s so romantic!” You’re the same people who thought Edward watching Bella sleep without her knowledge or consent was sexy. 

I thought I saw a shadow flicker across the glass – a humanlike shape.  (SOM, pg 3)

As I stepped outside, I glanced at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a second I saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight – a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one. Then it rippled and vanished.  (SOM, pg 7)

 [Percy realizes Annabeth has been stalking him] “Pretty much all morning.” She sheathed her bronze knife. “I’ve been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone.” [ … ] “There’s no time to explain!” she snapped, though she looked a little red-faced herself. (SOM, pg 23)

For those of you who are like “well she was waiting for him to be alone!” First of all, bitch it’s called knocking on the door and asking to speak to someone like a normal human being. But if that isn’t good enough for you, HE WAS ALONE RIGHT AFTER HE WALKED OUT OF HIS BUILDING. Talk to him then. 

But we all know the real reason she’s creeping outside Percy’s window. She’s a peeping tom. Anyone who has been around teenage boys (like, say, the girl who lived with teenage boys for five years) would know that the morning isn’t really the best time to be creeping outside a dude’s window unless you’re hoping for a show. 

All she cares about is glory.

Look, we know she’s a glory hound. Annabeth is in this war for the sweet, sweet recognition. She doesn’t care about the unclaimed demigods, she doesn’t care about all of the minor demigods being shoved in one cabin (here’s more info on that). Annabeth is off in her own little world where she’s the only thing that matters. 

Meanwhile, our boy Percy is fighting for his mom. And then he’s fighting for his best friend. He actually looks at Camp Half-Blood and goes “maybe this isn’t really right...” Yes, it takes him forever to get to the point where he’s like “Oh, Luke was right about everything” but he does get there. 

And then there’s our sweet baby angel, Luke Castellan, fighting from the get-go for fair treatment. Because Luke has suffered his whole life (since he was literally an infant); because Hal Green died to save Luke; because Luke has spent five years in a cabin full of kids who are hurting and whose pain is entirely preventable; because at fourteen, he thinks of himself (and Thalia) as heroes but Hermes says that he needs to go on a quest to be a great hero, so Luke does and it turns out to be the worst mistake he made in his life (up until Kronos). 

Which brings up a point, Luke always thought that they were heroes. For him, just being demigods and fighting monsters made them heroes. He didn’t need to go on a quest to prove himself to anyone. But for Annabeth, that is never enough. She needs to go bigger and bigger and bigger. 

Glory and being better than everyone else...

Wow, here we are again talking about Annabeth and Percy’s relationship. I really wish we couldn’t, because I’ve already taken literal days to find every instance of Annabeth being a dick to Percy (in the PJO series) and writing them down, conveniently located here if you’re interested in reading it... But it just keeps coming up. 

So, being better than everyone else. Where do I begin with that? How about the times that Annabeth thinks that the children of Demeter, yes Demeter the major goddess of the earth, are weak? Or the children of Aphrodite, you know, like Piper who charmspoke Gaea to sleep or Silena who charged into battle against a drakon are nothing but whisy washy airheads? Or really, anyone who isn’t booksmart like her. Like Percy, for instance. 

Annabeth’s nickname for Percy means stupid. Every time she uses it, she’s calling him stupid. You know, when she doesn’t actually use the word stupid or idiot. She’s also very fond of calling Percy’s plans crazy, every time he has a plan, despite the fact that his plans have never failed. Now who’s crazy, Annabeth? 

For real, though, she’s doing this because she wants to keep him in his place. Annabeth is shit for Percy’s self esteem. She constantly berates him for every little thing he does. She threatens to (and does) hit him on multiple occasions. Every time Percy says or does anything around Annabeth, he always thinks she’s going to punch me. 

GUYS THAT ISN’T CUTE. GUYS REMEMBER HOW PERCY USED TO GET PUNCHED INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS BY HIS STEPDAD? 

Oh, and does everyone remember where Annabeth mocked Percy’s every choice in TLT but in Battle Of The Labyrinth where Annabeth is put in charge of the quest for the first time and she spends most of it freaking out and cracking under the pressure. It sounds like someone isn’t actually as good as she thought was. 

I know I said I wasn’t going to talk about this but in Tartarus, Annabeth is scared of Percy. He’s stronger than even she knew. Percy just wakes up from passing out and kills Arachne before Annabeth can even move. That caught her by surprise. Percy manipulates poison in an attempt to kill the goddess of misery, who has just tricked them and is planning on killing them. Annabeth immediately shuts that down. Because Percy isn’t allowed to be that powerful. She also freaks out when Percy jumps blind over a 20ft chasm while holding her because she didn’t know he could do that. 

And Percy is so used to not arguing with her (because she’s going to kick his butt, because it just isn’t worth it) that he just accepts it.

Her home life didn’t suck that bad. 

Because I was just talking about Tartarus, Percy says that it smells like Gabe in Tartarus and Annabeth....laughs? She thinks he’s joking. She thinks he’s trying to cheer her up. Why would she think that when they’re in literal hell and Gabe abused Percy for years? Because she’s on a different plane of existence than everyone else.

Annabeth’s home life didn’t actually suck in the way that she’s told everyone it did. It sucked that she got attacked by monsters. It sucked that Arachne sent spiders to scare her for three nights. 

Her parents don’t suck. Not even Athena. After ten years of hanging around all of these abused, neglected, traumatized people she finally got...what is it called? Oh yeah, some fucking perspective.

Frederick and Mrs. Chase (who doesn’t even have a name) did their best. There’s absolutely nothing unreasonable about Frederick not wanting Annabeth when she floated down from the heavens like the little Grinch she is. The dude had a few conversations with a woman and the next thing he knows, she’s dropping off a baby and won’t even help him raise it? Yeah, no thanks.

Either way, the entire family was getting attacked because of Annabeth’s presence in the house. So Mrs. Chase not letting her kids play with Annabeth? Makes total sense. It’s like quarantining the kid with chicken pox so that the rest don’t get it. 

Fighting about how to handle being attacked regularly? Also makes total sense but the fact that Frederick and Mrs. Chase stayed together is like couple goals. They’re the real power couple of the series. 

You know what else makes total sense? Thinking that Annabeth had a series of bad dreams about spiders because Mrs. Chase and her husband are mortals with mortal sight and cannot see divine shit. 

Is all of this terribly confusing for a child? Yes. Does her family deserve to die or be vilified because she’s too young for logical thought? No. 

Plus they kept asking her to come home. And when she finally did, she ran away again shortly after? She does this twice. Frederick literally flew into battle for her. She is so ungrateful for what she has (she’s rich, with a family who loves her. Literally her only problem is monster attacks).

Annabeth wasn’t homeless for that long

Look, Annabeth ran away  from home between July 12, 2000 (her 7th birthday) and was at Camp Half-Blood by December 22, 2000 (which would have been Thalia’s 13th birthday). Her first couple of months were spent alone...unless you count Athena helping her fight monsters and guiding her towards Luke and Thalia. 

Which directly breaks the Don’t Interfere Rule. You know, the one that Hermes used as an excuse for not helping his nine-year-old son while he was homeless for five years. Yeah. That one. 

Luke and Thalia took really good care of her for those few months. Annabeth mentions that the three of them built shelters all over the place, and since Luke doesn’t mention shelters in his diary or any (pre-Annabeth) flashbacks, we can assume that they built those specifically because they adopted a little girl. 

The whole “Family, Luke. You promised.” Is bullshit.

Here’s why. First of all, Luke was fourteen, a baby, barely out of puberty when he made that promise to be a family. He’s only ever wanted to be loved his entire life so that was him desperately trying to add another member to what he considered to be his family (Thalia never considered them family). He also never hurts her (see my post about holding the sky for more details). 

Annabeth was with Luke and Thalia for a couple of months at maximum. Then Thalia dies. Luke and Annabeth are split up into different cabins so they cannot eat, sleep in the same room, or do activities together except during the off-season. Annabeth does her best to get into Luke’s pants because I don’t know what else to call it when you pant all over the person hugging you. 

Luke also asks Annabeth to join him and be a family again for three whole books to which she repeatedly says no. His last attempt at being a family and keeping his promise happens literally before Kronos possesses him (after which, it is far too late to be a family because Luke barely exists anymore). 

“He came under a flag of truce. He said he only wanted five minutes to talk. He looked scared, Percy. He told me Kronos was going to use him to take over the world. He said he wanted to run away, like the old days. He wanted me to come with him. [...] I told him no way. He got mad. He said...he said I might as well fight him right there, because it was the last chance I’d get.” [Annabeth] (TLO, pg 201). 

Luke asks her to kill him because if he can’t escape Kronos and can’t have his family back, then Luke just doesn’t want to live anymore. Then he dies knowing that Annabeth doesn’t know that familial and platonic love are things so her “you’re my brother but I don’t love you” actually means that Luke dies thinking no one loves him. Probably why Luke immediately turned to Percy with his request for positive change. At least Luke can count on Percy to let him know that his entire life and death weren’t meaningless. 

.Fin. Fucking finally. 

[lvmosity]

my only valentine | draco malfoy [2]

pairing: draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

genre: fluff bc it’s a valentines day special ooh la la

summary: you and draco have been enemies since the start of hogwarts despite being in the same houses, but everyone knows you two secretly like each other. valentines day has arrived and you hope to receive a love confession from one boy only; your arch-enemy nevertheless. however, a minor incident occurs caused by draco and hurts you deeply. will your valentines day be rescued?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: minor swearing ?? sorry i swear a lot

a/n: final part is here! received a lot of love on my first one and that made me really happy! thank u all eeek <3 couldn’t hesitate to finish this off because i didn’t want to make u wait a long time so here it is! enjoy :-) also idk if there are errors in here even tho i proofread multiple times, so let me know if u see any !!

tags: @aus-pi-cially​ @biinspiration​ @iwritetrashimagines​ @juliemoney45​ @a-hoe-for-vanya​ @slytherclawmalfoy​ 

read part one → here 

After the incident, you stayed in your dorm for the rest of the day. Professor McGonagall excused you out of classes, each visiting the Professors that you had a class with today to report that you wouldn’t be attending due to you falling ‘ill’. You mentally thanked her for that and you reminded yourself to thank her properly the next morning since you were too upset and embarrassed to walk out.

You knew that at this very moment that everyone was talking about you, you were once again the main gossiping topic. When some students had asked your classmates who were present at the incident, they simply explained the situation and one by one the information had quickly spread like wildfire. 

Many girls felt bad for you, some of the girls from your house even visited you during their frees and empathised with you. After stating that you were feeling alright, they started to bad-mouth Draco by calling him all sorts and making fun of him. You’d never thought you’d hear your own housemates mockingly make fun of Draco but it was a blessing to your ears. Although, you wished for their safety as you knew his father will hear about it and order expulsion upon them.

And by most girls, you mean everyone except a few girls such as Pansy Parkinson enjoyed you feeling dejected. You weren’t the only girl who liked him of course. Since Year One, Pansy has made sure to everyone that she likes loves Draco. You could visualise the look on her face when she heard about the situation, and she probably looked the happiest she’s ever been.

Pansy also made it clear that she hates you. At first, you both didn’t have a problem with each other since you were Slytherin housemates, however, you couldn’t hold back your slight annoyance with her once she showed attitude. But at the start of Year 4, she turned hostile towards you. Apparently, she sees you as a threat and you’d soon ruin her ‘plans’, whatever they were.

Your friends came by during dinner to give the gifts you left in class since you ran out without grabbing them. They each gave you a consoling hug, several uplifting words to cheer you up as well as desserts from the meal they were serving as a Valentines Day special. It did manage to bring your mood up which was a good thing as you were able to focus on something else.

However, the second you lay eyes on the gifts that laid on your bedside counter, you’d instantly be reminded about the incident turning your mood sour. You couldn’t help but tear up which escalates into a crying session. You’ve possibly had around five sessions since then and now it’s six because you just looked at it again.

It really hurt you. His words struck thorns in your heart, he really didn’t have feelings for you at all. You cursed at yourself for thinking he’d have a slight interest in you all this time but now you realised you were wrong; he has always hated you. He despised you. From the very start lasting to the very end.

What does this mean to you from now on? Obviously, it means your crush on Draco should be completely destroyed. No, it needs to be. You’d be a fool to continue liking Draco after that, he literally declared his hatred for you and he had an audience to hear it loud and clear. He’ll never see you anything more than an enemy. He only saw you as a despicable, loathsome, grotesque looking, ugly--

“Ugh, I’m such an idiot!” you cried out with despair and flipped the bed covers over your head.

You forced your eyes shut and tried to shut any thoughts of Draco but images of him kept coming back. It was hopeless. You were never going to get over him.

Time goes by and you watched the sky turn from grey to black indicating that it was night-time. It was time for everyone to head back to their dorms since classes had finished for the day. One by one you watch your roommates, as well as your friends, stumble into the room and hop into bed falling fast asleep minutes later.

You lie in bed, tossing back and forth multiple times unable to get in a comfortable position. It had been a while since everyone had fallen asleep, snores filled the room as well as the ticking of the clock. You concluded that you weren’t going to fall asleep any time soon as you weren’t tired despite feeling the heaviness on your eyelids.

Taking a quick glance at the clock, you saw that it was only beginning to hit 11PM. Sighing, you step out of bed, slipping your slippers on as you walk outside. You knew no one would be awake at this time judging by how late it was thus spending a bit of time sitting in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room would be a good way to fall asleep quicker and clear your thoughts.

You step into the Common Room and just as you thought; not one person was awake. The fireplace was still lit and burning strongly along with the violent crackling of the fire. The lamps had been switched off leaving the fireplace and the light from the windows to be the only source of light. It was awfully eerie without anyone else in the room but it didn’t bother you as much because you were used to it, it was located in the dungeons of course.

As you made your way downstairs, you were starting to feel the heat radiating from the fire inch by inch. You shuddered at the warmth wafting your face once you stood in front of the fireplace. Sitting yourself down on the carpet, you cross your legs and lifted your hands up to warm them up.

You give a long sigh, relaxing your shoulders and the muscles in your body. For a couple of minutes, you had stayed like this, welcoming the warmth that surrounded you and you felt at peace. You were able to clear your thoughts out to the point you felt like you had moved on from that horrific incident.

“Oh, you’re still up.”

You quickly look behind to see Draco leaning over the balcony, gazing at you. How long has he been standing there for? Why was he still wide awake at this time? More importantly, what the hell do you do now?

Your eyes widen out of shock, instantly turning back and stare at the fireplace and start to fidget with your hands. You could hear him walk down the steps, your heart is starting to beat fast. His footsteps are coming closer. Your mind was racing as you frantically look around. Should you try and run away so you wouldn’t have to face him? Do you stay sitting down and wait for him? Maybe If you thought of a good excuse, you can walk back to the dorm without any awkwardness. Or you can just run away right now and he wouldn’t even have the chance to say something--

Draco clears his throat as he calmly sits himself down next to you. Legs crossed, he also warms his hands up neither saying a word or glancing at you.

You didn’t want to peek at him but you could tell out of the corner of your eye that he doesn’t seem to have a scowl or an irritated look despite being next to you. Instead, he supports a blank face. It was difficult to guess how he’s feeling right now. 

Focusing back on the fireplace, you both sit there in silence, both not having the confidence to speak a single word. It stays like that for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire, hearing his and your quiet breathing, your heartbeat gradually ringing loud in your ears. You were starting to feel uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere. You weren’t sure if Draco was feeling the same, you were too nervous to check his face.

“Can’t sleep?”

Draco breaks the silence. Finally encouraging yourself to look at him, you wait for him to turn to you and wait for your reply but he doesn’t. His eyes still fixated on the fire in front. You sigh internally. 

“Y-yeah...” Your words wavering at the end. You slowly uncross your legs before bending and pressing them against your chest. You cross your arms and place them on top of your knees, propping your chin on top afterwards.

Great. Draco now knows you’re basically shitting your pants right now. That made you even more nervous. He’s probably making fun of you right now in his head.

“Just wanted to clear my mind and it’s working out fairly good.” You try to laugh your nervousness off in hopes that Draco would ignore your slight tremor from before.

"Your brain must feel as good as new,” Draco said causing you to look at him again, “seeing that you’ve never used it in your whole life.”

You frown at him before rolling your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been trying to see things from your point of view but I can’t get my head that far up my arse.”

You snap back at Draco, waiting for him to give you his iconic nasty look and throw an insult back but to your surprise, he doesn’t. Draco sits there in silence again, he still hasn’t bothered trying to look at you. You were starting to debate whether he was only here to argue or have a normal chat for once or maybe even apologise.

But this was Draco Malfoy you were talking about. He would never in a million years apologise to someone unless they were his father or that he really meant it or if he knew he was in the wrong.

Maybe you should just go and leave him alone, you really weren’t in the mood to argue with him as well as be in the same room as him. Especially after what he said. This will possibly be the last time you exchange words with him, you figured it would be best to stray clear of Draco, ignoring any snide comments he makes and pretend he didn’t exist. It’ll be tough alright but you knew you had to do it.

You sigh once more and stand up, giving Draco one last look. “If you’re only here to tease me then It’s useless to even share the same air with you right now,” He’s still not turning to face you. You didn’t know why you continued standing there as if you’re expecting anything to happen. “so goodbye Malfoy. Nice knowing you by the way.”

You turn on your heels and swiftly walk away, each stepping closer to the stairs. You didn’t dare try to look back, it would only hold you back thus you kept your eyes in front.

“I’m sorry.”

You froze, standing in your spot motionless. Did he just apologise? There’s no way you heard that correctly, no, it’s your mind playing tricks on you convincing you to turn around and accompany him. Just keep walking, Draco didn’t say it.

“I’m sorry.” Apologising again.

You slowly turn around and see that Draco had finally faced you, his eyes bore into yours. Your mouth slightly gaped open as if to speak but no sound could be made. You felt weak under the stares of Draco, you could feel your legs starting to wobble.

“I, uh, didn’t mean what I said before... y’know... me calling you ugly,” Draco bites his bottom lips feeling slightly embarrassed now that he’s facing you. Bowing his head, he continues rambling on, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was a mistake, it came out so suddenly--”

“Thank you Draco.”

Draco’s head shoots up, his eyes wide open. He had heard his name come out of your mouth, and it was his first name instead of the usual ‘Malfoy’.

“What?”

“I said thank you Draco.”

A blush crept along his cheeks as he quickly turns his head to the side in an attempt to conceal it. However, he knew it failed as you give a quiet giggle. You found it amusing to see Draco react in a way after hearing his name being said, especially since it was from you.

“For what?”

“You finally apologised to me... and you actually meant it this time without being sarcastic.”

Draco smiles sheepishly, scratching the side of his head with his head still turned away. He couldn’t meet the eyes of yours, he felt too ashamed at the fact that he couldn’t get the blush on his face to fade anytime soon. He gives a short nod as if to acknowledge your thanks causing you to smile in return.

Once again, the silence returns as both of you stand in front of each other, you looking down at your feet fidgeting whilst Draco did the same. Your throat started to dry up as you were too nervous to swallow, the atmosphere became awfully awkward.

“I don’t think you’re ugly by the way,” Draco suddenly said, “you’re the opposite actually.”

Raising your eyebrows, you question him, “Like what? I’m somewhat decent is what you’re trying to say.”

Draco immediately shakes his head.

“Then what?” You were starting to become impatient.

“You’re just not ugly okay? I can’t explain it.”

“Oh so I’m like above ugly but below average looking, maybe those are the words you’re looking for--”

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re pretty goddamn it!”

You instantly shut up, looking at him directly with your mouth slightly gaped open. Draco gives out a long sigh, calming himself down. He had almost shouted it out loud to wake anyone up.

“You’re not ugly, you’re pretty,” Draco said with a much quieter, soft tone. “Really fucking pretty. You were never ugly in my eyes, from the moment I met you up until now, I still find you pretty.”

He steps closer to you, closing in the gap between the both of you before stopping to have only a few metres left. He was practically an arm's length away, close enough for him to hear your heart beating frantically, as well as the heat radiating from you. Draco noticed how you were blushing like mad, after all, this was the closest you guys have ever been.

“I like you Y/N.”

And in the blink of an eye, he steps in further and grabs your chin to lift it upwards before he kisses you. Impulsively, you kiss back as you close your eyes, your lips moving in sync with his. His lips were slightly chapped but it had softened in time as it felt incredibly plumpy against your very own.

His hands gently move to the side of your face, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek. You squirm under his touch but your lips were still laced together, you swore you felt Draco subtly bite your bottom lip indicating that he was enjoying this. And so did you.

After what seemed like forever, Draco pulls apart and drops his hand. Still blushing furiously, you delicately touch your lips. Did you guys really just kiss?

Draco steps back and chuckles, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” 

“I like you too.” You randomly blurt out causing Draco to laugh again.

“I know.”

“You knew?”

“I’m not an idiot. You made it quite obvious with your stares and flirting that it wasn’t hard to notice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes.

“Ah...” You said, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. “Whoops.”

You open your mouth to speak again. “I feel sorry for the guy who gave me those Valentines gifts.” Draco listens to you curiously, “I can’t imagine the look on his face when he finds out his crush has been kissed by another guy.”

He stares at you in disbelief. “Are you daft?”

“What?” You said, confused.

“I sent you those.” 

“As if. The Draco Malfoy sent me Valentines gifts?” You try to suppress your laughter since you found it amusing. 

Draco shoots you an offended look, “Yeah well, it’s not like I wanted to in the first place. Mother insisted that I man up and woo a girl so I don’t live my life as an old man that’s on the verge of dying as a loner.”

“Whatever you say Malfoy.” Giggling at his poor excuse.

He tuts before he leans back on the couch, crossing his arms, he lifts his head to look at you. He tilts his head to the side and smirks causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“So, does this mean we’re a thing now?”

“No.”

“What? But I just made out with you.”

You turn red at his statement. “You don’t just automatically assume a couple gets together after kissing.” You explained. 

“Then do I have to do something more other than a kiss?” He winks suggestively. You scrunch your face in disgust.

“No, you dimwit, you have to ask them out first in the traditional way.”

Draco lets out an ‘ahh’ and nods slowly. He uncrosses his arms and stands up, still leaning on the couch. “Then will you be my girlfriend?”

You let out a disappointed whine, “Seriously Malfoy, I can’t tell if you’re doing this to be funny or what--”

“No,” Draco stands up and walks closer to you, his hand lifts to grasps yours, taking you by surprise. “I’m serious. I’d like to be your boyfriend Y/N.”

He softly brushes his thumb up and down your fingers, waiting patiently for your answer. He locks eyes with you making your heart flutter. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unable to get a word out. You didn’t know how to respond to his bold question. 

It had only been an hour since you had concluded it was best to discard your crush on Draco and move on with your life. It had only been a few hours since you and several other Slytherin girls were having the time of your lives, badmouthing him. It had been hours since Draco had completely crushed your heart with his hurtful comments. These were enough reasons for you to reject Draco on the spot.

But not enough for it to convince your heart otherwise. No, your heart was telling you to forgive Draco and accept him.

You finally pull out of your thoughts and look at him. Draco looks at you with anticipation and starts overthinking. He wishes that you would answer him anytime now otherwise, he’ll feel humiliated knowing he got rejected. But that quickly disappears when he sees you give a small smile.

“Okay.”

Draco’s mouth forms into a grin, his heart leaping with joy. Oh, how he looked so cute.

“But what about Pansy?”

“What about her?”

“You do know that she’s always had this massive crush on you, right?”

Draco shrugs. “So what?”

You look at him dumbfounded. “I thought you two had a thing for each other.”

“You’re joking?” You shake your head. Draco sighs, “I’ve never liked Pansy, she gets on my nerves.”

“She’s been going around saying she was your Valentines, even showed a box of chocolates with your name on it but everyone could recognise her scruffy handwriting anywhere.” You revealed making Draco snortle.

“Ha! She wishes she was. What a freak.”

You nod trying to believe his words but you still had doubts. Draco notices your troubled look and intertwines his fingers with yours. “Besides,” he starts off. You gaze at him as he gazes back with a smile. “you’re my only valentine.”

Thus with that, he plants a kiss on your cheek making you genuinely smile at him.

●●●

“Ah, looks like Y/L/N finally stopped being emo and joined us back in class.” Mocked Pansy once she stepped inside Potions Class.

Her eyes lie on the back of your head as she struts over to your desk. You lazily sit back on your chair as you watch Pansy sit on the edge of the table.

“Welcome back,” She said with a sarcastic smile. “had an amazing time with your Valentines date?”

You respond by looking at her with a sinister smile. “Oh, you bet. ”

Pansy gives you a weird look before the door slams open and all heads turn to see the source of the loud sound. Draco walks in, his two other goons following behind. Ignoring the eyes of his classmates, he starts making his way to his desk.

You immediately stand up and march over to Draco. Your classmates start to whisper and watch you, thinking you were going to confront Draco and punch him for being an asshole.

Draco stops in his tracks once he saw you were walking towards him, and before he knew it, you grab the sides of his face and kiss him.

Everyone in the room shouts out of shock. They couldn’t believe the scene happening in front of them. One of your classmates, Seamus, makes a catcall causing a few of the boys to laugh. Draco’s goons, on the other hand, looked bewildered seeing him fraternising with the enemy. He definitely had some explaining to do.

The girls looked either jealous or happy. Your friends looked at each other with excited smiles, whilst Hermione just rolled her eyes at the view but aggressively elbowed Ron in his sides after he pulled a disgusted look. 

You pull away making Draco look at you confusingly, still taking in what had happened. 

You shoot a cheeky smile at Pansy over your shoulder, “I had an amazing time.” Pansy angrily glares at you before pushing past you and storms out of the room.

“Everyone’s going to assume we’re a thing now after you kissed me.” He teased as you looked back at him.

“Well, weren’t we always?” You wink at him and turn around, walking back to your desk leaving Draco stunned.

Draco grins to himself, “Touché.”

Both of you knew you two were going to be in the centre of attention again, the main topic to gossip about except this was going to be something new to you both. However, instead of hearing the common ‘Draco and Y/N are fighting again’, it’d turn to ‘Draco and Y/N are having a love quarrel again.’ And that made you excited.

Maybe Valentines Day isn’t a bad event after all.

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Inside Jokes and References in the Full Bios

Mainly for @spacelizardtrashboys and @kuruumiya

Also: Any time strikethrough text is used it's because it's meant to be secret information, for example on the small bios any time 'Lucifarian' truly isn't their last name their is strikethrough test after saying that it's not their real name. This is to say that no matter what is written or if it's strikethrough text or not, it is there for a reason.

Damien - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for him refers back to his 'King of Hell' gimmick, as does his middle name, Rex means king.

He's protective, like a dad, but also way too overprotective over the gimmicks for the girls. He's an old, old school guy so he enjoys card games with the boys.

He's supposed to sound like a young Hugh Laurie, mainly because if I heard a young Hugh Laurie say Damien's bio quote I wouldn't be able to take him seriously.

His main finisher (Seventh Circle) refers back to (a) him being the king of hell and (b) the seventh circle is for violence, and well, he's a wrestler, that's a pretty violent job.

He calls fans both 'peasants' and his 'loyal subjects' because he's like an asshole-ish king who'd quickly be dethroned if they rebelled.

Vickie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for her refers back to her gimmick along with the old saying 'pride comes before the fall'.

She's called 'Victoria' because of both (a) it meaning victory and (b) the fact that Queen Victoria ruled back when Britain had an empire, then the empire fell (as in pride [Vickie] before a fall)

Both Her and Damien are born in August and are the only two to share a birth month as they are Father and Daughter (non-kayfabe, as in they share DNA)

She's raised Christian as back when she was growing up England was a lot more Christian than when she became an adult so she got lax in her beliefs

Her personality is supposed to make her come across as a vain, rich, arse of a person, yet deep down she's still redeemable, she's got a long way to go before she actually redeems herself though

She's the type of person who makes sure EVERY little detail of her matches and promos are PERFECT to the point that she will control what other people do or say, down to the moment it's said/done and the way it's said/done

She only likes the other D.O.D (Daughters of Darkness) members because she has only made enemies in the short while they've been in the company, she especially dislikes George 'The Animal' Steele because of his very messy style going against her 'everything should be perfect' views

She's the leader, the brain and the mouth because of her control over the group, if she let them have more control, there might be less arguments about her amount of control

Her named moves are also references to both her gimmick and other things. Beheader is named because of the Tudor monarchs of England having kind of a thing for killing people in this way (ex. Henry VIII).

Lineage Ender is named that because if she ever botches that one specific move (it'll make sense in context/ she does it during a training scene) it could end either her own Lineage or the person she's doing it to.

Lion's den is called that because she traps them in a near-inescapable crucifix pin, and normally if someone goes into a den of Lions, they aren't escaping in one piece.

Family Pride is named that because not only is her gimmick the sin of pride, but she's got pride in her family and she's her dad's 'pride and joy' because she's his only child.

Wish for this (her main finishing move) is called that because it's an inside joke of "you're gonna 'wish for this' to be over soon"

As she's Damien's blood daughter, a 'prodigal son' joke seemed somewhat appropriate.

Billie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the Guerreros and the whole 'Latin lover' trope

She was born in February because of Valentine's day, hence why her birthday is two days before the 14th

She's 1/2 Cuban (just in general - both Mexican and Cuban culture is interesting to me) But she's 1/2 Cuban in case I ever need to write for Razor Ramon, I can get away with making the joke of 'my Cuban accent's better than yours'.

Her casual style is 'Suggestive' because how else is Lust supposed to dress.

She dislikes Hulk Hogan because she finds him incredibly annoying and she dislikes Jesse Ventura because she dislikes his fashion choices.

I imagine her uncle Hugo looks like Luis Guzman and her dad's like Raul Julia. Try to imagine those two wrestling as a luchador tag team.

Her mother was basically a valet to her dad, which was usually Billie's role before she was part of the D.O.D.

Her move name references are all song references: Love me Tender - Elvis' song of the same name, Personal Aphrodite - a reference to / joke on 'Personal Jesus', Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye's song of the same name.

Also, I hope to eventually use the joke 'The Babe, the babe with the power,' 'What power?' 'Power of voodoo' 'Who do?' 'You do' 'Do what?' 'Remind me of the babe' because of one of her commentary nicknames being 'The Babe'

P.G - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is in reference to her being greed and (right at the start of the story) her thoughts on money actually being able to buy her happiness

her surname 'Voronin' means crow, and well, crows like shiny things, like money

she wears 'fancy but simple' clothing because if she bought designer clothes she'd be in debt, but she still wants to look like she has more money than everyone else

she's cowardly in a Jimmy Hart way, she'll piss someone off during a promo and run away once she feels like she's in danger

she's a showman because she's more show than work, meaning she works exceptionally quick matches.

Her moves are basically jokes on the fact that she is greed, such as Gold-digger and Diamond Ring. However, Money Maker is also a joke on the fact that it's a facebuster and usually an actor's face is called their 'money maker'

She hates Hulk Hogan and Sgt slaughter because of how patriotic they are

Kirby - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to (a) the fact that she's Gluttony, (b) her being the only one who wears a mask constantly and (c) her basically being the group's scare tactic against people who think they can push them around.

I am planning on eventually making her a part of the machines, maybe as a valet, maybe as a wrestler, not 100% sure as of right now

Her mother is the Norwegian-Scottish one and her father is the Irish-Welsh one

She is the tallest (not the heaviest, that's Damien) but she's still 9 inches shorter than André.

She's willing to bleed hardway, but hates blading

She hates Big John Studd because of his disrespect, she hates Hulk Hogan because she thinks he's obnoxiously 'American', she dislikes Lord Alfred Hayes and Dynamite Kid because they are so insistent on calling her '1/4 Icelandic' whenever she talks about being 1/4 Norwegian. She hates Brutus Beefcake because he's just 'so, so much' energy-wise.

She's always been tall, always shorter than André though, she was 5'6" when she was 12, which is still taller than Sam, P.G and Eli.

Kirby's the best at using folk tales and mythology references in her promos and still keeping them dark and scary.

Her speaking voice is Jessica Hynes, but I imagine her singing voice (which will be important later) to be that of Deee-lite's Lady Miss Kier. On that note, I will be putting up a post on this part of the fic's canon.

Feeding Frenzy is meant to look similar to Roddy's wild punches, hence the 'frenzy' part of the name.

Organ grinder is named because it's meant to look really hard (like she's putting all her force and weight into it) as if she's grinding her opponents organs

Hungry for Blood is an in-joke of during her toughest matches she seems hungry to give the fans the sight of blood

Consummation is a joke of 'the match will soon be over, the match will soon be concluded, or consummated' not the sex-based meaning of that word.

Number of the beast, which is 666, is a reference to the 619, and is a modified 619 basically.

Vampire's Bite is a reference to her sitout jawbreaker looking like she could possibly bite someone's neck, like a vampire, as she performs the move

I didn't want to call her chops, chops, so I made a joke of 'oh it's chopping, like a butcher's knife'

Overfeeding is another basic gluttony reference. Cheshire Grin is a facelock-based joke. Let Them Eat Cake is a butt=cake joke

The ogress is a thinly-veiled way of the commentary team calling her ugly, because why else would she be the only one in a mask

Holly - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is written that way because I always wanted her to sound like she comes from New Jersey

She's very cuddly towards the rest of the D.O.D and thus gets called a teddy bear by the others

She's Pansexual because she doesn't care what your gender is, she loves people just being themselves

She's the only ginger because I've never seen a ginger wrestler from New Jersey

She was raised Catholic but lost her faith upon realising how bad gay people are treated by the church (Holly literally just goes "Y'all it is 1984, how are y'all gonna reject people based on who they love?")

Holly's very much the person who'll ask permission to cut a promo on someone but won't tell them how harsh she's going to be

She's the group's mom friend (mum friend?)

Before she started travelling with another member of the group (Holly travels with Sam a lot) she would accidentally no-show events

She does accidentally give incredibly stiff shots

Holly likes Gorilla Monsoon because their friendship is very much a weird pseudo-dad-daughter friendship, so basically, she's using him as her new dad

Her voice is Angie Harmon because I think Harmon sounds like a badass from New Jersey

Naptime, Dirt Nap and Lullaby are jokes of 'I'm gonna knock you out'

Eli - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a joke of 'this is why she doesn't do a lot of promos'

She's the most likely to be on one of those 'too hot for TV' blooper reels from her promos

Both she and Sam hate people taller than them

Sam - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the fact that her tattoos are her 'masterpiece'

she dresses athletically because she's always ready for a fight, especially because she's usually the one picking fights

She likes Lou because he's like a crazy uncle to her and she likes George Steele because, unlike Vickie, she likes the wild man side of his gimmick

She's voiced by Melissa Etheridge because she's still feminine but is the most masculine sounding