#how she could run away from the netherlands but she will always be connected to it

[vogelmeister]

decided to reread merel’s monologue in wings of love and i noticed the best unintentional parallel

[distortionswife]

How it all started

TWs for: Clowns, probably paranoia, kidnapping ( ig? it was kind of martin blackwood like conscious choice???? ) Mimicking of movement, uncanny shit,

-- PART ONE --

I had just woken up from a rather odd dream, I don't exactly remember what it was, I just remember that it horrified me. But the sight beside my bed was somehow worse.

It was a tall figure, it adorned a top hat and seemed to stare at me, watching my movement. I couldn't see it very well, mumbling something along the lines of "what are you.."

And then she laughed. And I knew.

It was Nikola, I'd recognize that laugh anywhere. And when she got a bit closer, I saw her face, still a bit blurred but it was her alright... Even if I was blind as hell without my glasses.

But if not for the face and laugh, it'd be that trademark ringleader outfit of hers with that top hat. She wore a wig, it was short and orange, curly too. It looked rather nice on her, in my opinion, but that wasn't what I was thinking in that moment.

All I could think was "Oh god." because why would she be here? So I moved my head slightly, still in the stomach sleeping position with my hands under my pillow.

But what I saw was real. It was to me, at least.

Because she moved her head with me.

I noticed her hand retracting from.. my shoulder? Had she woken me up? Why?

I moved my head side-to-side, seeing her mirroring and mimicking that exact movement.. it assured me she was certainly in my room. Which made a new, vivid fear arise, because London wasn't that close to where I lived. The area of The Netherlands, France and Germany was quite far, it's not like I'd have a close connection to it either.

But for some reason, she was here. In my room.

My thoughts were so blurry, I was still so sleepy and I had dreams like this before where I had woken up yet.

She laughed at my reaction, and all I could mutter out was a "W-What are you doing here?"

And by god she must be strong, at least strong enough to easily shove 25 kg/55 lbs from in front of my door. I always have a basket in front of my door out of fear and paranoia, hallucinations are quite scary at night, both auditory and visual.

Either way, she was still blurry for me and I struggled seeing everything, it was dark, after all. Well, my blinds are darkened and they made the room dark, but my little space lamp allowed for light. It has a timer so I assumed it had turned off by itself again.

I tiredly mumbled about needing my glasses, not really sure if I was awake or if this was a dream as well. I smacked the bedside table to feel my glasses but they weren't there.

She laughed again and mocked me a bit, asking me "Are you really that blind?"

And I simply nodded, which caused her to laugh again, refusing to give me my glasses, "I'll just move closer, then." So she did, she moved very fucking close to my face, like mere inches away and somehow THAT caused me to properly wake up, even if the faint fear was already there. Now it was FULLY running through me.

This had apparently taken 5 minutes.

Once I sat up, I held the sheets up to my chest, just covering a bit as I stared at the other. Nikola had found my stupidity very entertaining.

She started talking about how I should just follow, I shouldn't question it and that she thought I was probably aware what would happen if I didn't listen.

I simply asked if I could at least get dressed, which made her groan,

" Is that really necessary? " Nikola said.

I nodded and she sighed, staring at the little space lamp, inspecting it with a strange curiosity as I got dressed.

I suddenly heard her laugh, seeing that she had removed it's head.

see the picture above, it is indeed removable, but Nikola found it very entertaining.

Once I was dressed she walked to my door, closed it and reopened it again, suddenly.. elsewhere?

We were in the middle of London, the door closing and not leading to my bedroom anymore. She was very pleased with this.

I remember texting my friend, we'll call them Sunny.

"I think i fucked up somewhere" I texted them

but Nikola smacked my phone out of my hand ad took it away, saying I should lead the way as I apparently lived here. I argued that I didn't, I have never lived in London.

She was CONVINCED I was lying to her, saying she was very very sure of it.

I decided not to argue again, might be better since Nikola could kill me at any moment.

So, she leads me to the infamous institute, The Magnus Institute, London. I still had my watch so I was able to see the time; 4:02 a.m.

But I couldn't ponder the thought long, because I was being shoved towards the door and told to "go get the thing", and I didn't know what to do or get, but part of me was guessing skin, seeing as that was all she was talking about on the way there.

While i was in the tunnels, trying to evade the absolute horror that was Not!Sasha, I felt my watch buzz, it was still connected to my phone and apparently someone was trying to figure out what it was, as it was still on when Nikola smacked it out of my hand.

She was messaging Sunny, or well, messily messaging, I assumed. Sunny had sent a message that was just a keyboard smash in all caps. They also made a joke about time traveling or dimension hopping.

Then I got an "oh." and a "cool cosplay", which was an odd sight in itself but i had to focus on not dying AND not getting worms. There were a few left and I was about ready to throw up.

Michael was there, somehow, walking after me with a curiosity, asking who I was and why I was here. I explained it didn't matter who I was but that a certain ringmaster basically took me from my home and made me get her some skin she wanted.

"Why would you even follow her out of your room???" He asked me.

"Because she's absolutely horrifying, kind of pretty and mostly... I don't want to piss her off. I feel like she'd kill me if I wouldn't listen to her." I had responded.

Michael gave me a judging look like no other, not understanding my reasons and actually advising against getting the skin for her, even if it was against his nature. He said his door was a faster way out.

I refused and repeated I'd rather not piss someone off who wants skin.

Then he disappeared, at the voice of Elias and I somehow had that ANCIENT BIT OF SKIN. He looked at me, tilting his head and asked why I had that.

I tried to trick him by saying it was leather, getting an annoyed look and furrowed eyes. The orange glowy furrowed eyes, kind of intimidating, too.

"You know damned well I'm aware that the thing you are holding is not leather."

So I argued with him for a while and he eventually found out I was doing this for Nikola, the I do not know you. He offered me a job and I said I'd consider it, he'd hear from me in the morning.

Before he could stop me I ran the other way, into Michael who was probably more intrigued about me running through the corridors than whatever else he had going on, because he wanted to know my plan.

I joked about joining a fire-y cult and he asked me, loudly "WHY"

And because I was just so damned nervous I joked that "Can't peel what doesn't exist."

it made him chuckle.

I somehow got out of the tunnels and was once more seen by Elias, but I got the skin to Nikola and she was questioning me about Elias. I told her I was offered a job, and she encouraged me to take it so I could snoop for her.

Be her little errand person.

I blurted out that Elias wanted me to snoop on her.

Nikola just gripped my shoulder painfully tight, saying with her sweetest voice "well you're not going to tell him anything."

And I was honestly okay with that, getting my phone back and being told my friend was not the brightest. My friend Sunny, in this universe, thought that it wasn't real. But they were very much in the same universe. Just.. not aware.

The chat log was along the lines of:

( Sunny ) AKDJFNKA ALSO WHY ARE YOU AWAKE Did you finally go through a spiral door into the archives or something? /j ( Nikola ) Spiral door? Into the archives? Do tell :)

( Sunny ) What? It was a joke, I put the /j ( Nikola ) I don't know what that means :) [ a picture of Nikola's face, she apparently took it on accident ] ( Sunny ) Cool cosplay, you got that together real fast KSDHFBKS ( Nikola ) [ another picture, she figured it out!! It was of the front of the archives, her tall shadow in front of it ] ( Sunny ) Oh. OH.

It was quite funny to read, there were also a lot of scratches on my phone, Nikola had made a little finger hat of skin, eventually. Like a thimble of skin.

I tried texting them back, sending "THAT WAS NOT ME I'M SO SORRY." And I got back: "YEAH I CAN SEE THAT." There was more but I was knocked on my head, waking up tied to a chair, she removed the bandana from my mouth because she didn't think I'd scream, but kept me tied down, thinking I'd run.

I argued I'd probably get myself killed if I did, she found that to be the one smart thing.

She then talked to me about working for her, what it'd entail and what my "freedom" would be. Since she'd want dirt and info on the institute.

And that's where the first one ended. I signed a contract, in a way, not literally. It didn't tie me to the stranger, either, just to Nikola.

I got the nickname "little archivist" due to my height. 154.2cm/barely 5'0

-- END OF PART ONE --

Soooo let me know your thoughts, and what you think!

I don't know if it helps with reading but have my picrew as a reference for how I look, it's accurate, believe me. I know it helps me to have visual aids aksdjhfbaksd

[kismetharborapps]

ooc information

name: dee

preferred pronouns: she/her

age: 27

timezone: gmt +1

activity level: 7 out of 10, sometimes i’m busier than other weeks. however, when i’m not on the dash i usually am online on discord for plotting

triggers: cancer 

anything else?: - 

character information

name: kaan aksoy

faceclaim: kerem bursin

gender & pronouns: he/him

age: 34

birthday: 3 december 1989 (34) 

place of birth: izmir, turkey  

occupation: soccer player 

neighborhood: emerald mist 

time since arriving in kismet harbor: 1 year ago

filling a wanted connection?: yes, nazli ceyhan’s rival connection 

biography ( tw car accident, loosing his parents, grief ) 

AGE 0 － 10 :

kaan is the oldest child of the aksoy's. they grew up in a household were they didn't have much financial means. but despite this ; they always managed to make everything work.

his dad had his own small market by the corner of a small street in izmir. his mom would also be helping around to keep the place running.

at the age of 8 , kaan's love for soccer grew more and more. his dad was also a soccer-game lover so he took him and his sisters to a lot of soccer matches. even if the tickets were highly priced, their dad always managed to somehow get a few tickets to spend some time with his kids.

at the age of 10, the family decided to move to the netherlands because his dad found a job there meanwhile the aksoy kids could have a better study there as well.

AGE 11 － 25 :

when kaan turned 13, he joined a soccer club and his family would always be standing by the sideline to shout out his name; they were his biggest supporters.

things weren't going so well in school, his grades dropped because after school he would be outside to play some soccer with his friends instead of working on his projects/ studying for any exams.

as soon he turned 18, he got an offer to join a dutch soccer club and instantly he signed the papers. he didn't end up finishing his school so he doesn't have any degree.

kaan became more and more successful, still, his parents would try to attend every match

when kaan turned 25 , his whole world turned upside down. he was in america by that time for a soccer match, he got a call from home; finding out both his parents passed away in a car crash.

AGE 26 － 34 :

ever since loosing their parents, he felt like he needed to step in to take care of his sisters. he always made sure they were okay and he still is. he’s very protective over them. 

his coping mechanism dealing with grief and pain was either just staying silent about it, going to the gym or going out with friends to drink. he didn’t want to talk about it with his sisters because he felt like he needed to be the stronger one so they could come and talk to him instead. neither did he really talk with his friends about this. 

kaan is now one of the most successful soccer players and moved to kismet harbor because he signed a new contract with a new soccer club.

MORE FACTS ABOUT KAAN :

because his family struggled a lot in the past financially, he is anonymously donating to charities. sometimes he attends charities as well.  

his name is in the tabloids very often because of how famous he got. usually the media makes him seem like a douche or an ass just to get money by using his name (such as clickbait) 

pets: 1 labrador, cesur 

town activities: aqua avengers, elevated escapades, hands on

hands on kismet harbor

draw of luck: yes!

[dismuch47]

ADVANCED SETTINGS (Part 1)

And the winner of the Scarlet Vision Drabbles Voting is... Advanced Settings! With Custom Skin as a close second. Luckily this one is turning out waaay longer than I thought it would be, so I had to break it into two parts. Second part will come out later this week. 

It’s been awhile since I’ve fanfic dabbled, so this has felt really nice. I feel I will be writing more about these soulmates.

Advanced Settings: Wanda and Vision find there is more to iron out in making their relationship “work”. Rated Mature.

Wanda made her way down the narrow stairs, holding her two bags close to her person. The creaky boards protested against her dainty weight and brown chips of aged paint flaked away with each step of her boots. She strode to the stained plaid couch in the musty living area and plopped down her burdens. A roach scurried out from between the cushions and zoomed to the sanctuary of a hole in the upholstered armrest.

No… she would not miss this location.

“Has anyone seen my… oh, I see it.” Wanda walked to the defunct treadmill in the corner of the room, plucking her ear-pods from the treadmill’s control panel. The train ride would be long and music was the only way she would survive it. She shoved the corded earphones into her jacket pocket with her phone and smoothed the sides of her hair behind her ears as she ran through her mental checklist again.

“Got your ticket?” Natasha inquired over a near empty dinner plate, supplying the reminder, not out of real concern but rather a sense of familial normalcy. She was a stern but stunning mother hen.

“Ah… yes!” Wanda had to pat herself down and found the ticket in her back pocket. She held it up victoriously before putting it in the smaller of her bags. “I think I have everything…”

“Not everything.” Steve’s rich tenor voice cut in over the hissing and bubbling of the shabby kitchenette that occupied the same small space as the living area. He placed a plate of peppered chicken, plain rice, and steamed broccoli in front of Wanda before draping a dish towel over a toned shoulder. “No one should travel on an empty stomach. Eat up.”

Wanda scrunched her nose up at the the corny paternal grin he gave, but accepted the plate. She took her seat at one of the mismatched chairs that occupied the dingy room, refusing to sit on the couch with food. 

“Moscow… my old stomping grounds.” Nat sighed, before taking another bite of chicken. “Shto-to s chem-to.” Her Russian was comically muffled by food.

“I’ll take pictures.” Wanda promised, scarfing rice. “I’m forcing myself to take in more of scenery this time. But I swear once I’m in a hotel, all I want to do is shower and never leave the bed.”

Wanda winced as soon as she dropped that setup.

“Oooooh? Do tell…” Wanda had actually forgotten that Sam was in the room as well, as small as it was. He had been unusually quiet, nursing some leg soreness from a tech-recalibration injury. Nothing seriously hurt, save for pride. The plastic baggies of ice duct-taped to his thighs sloshed and clacked as he shifted in the only run-down chair with padding. “And when exactly are we gonna meet this mystery boyfriend of yours? Who pays your way to exotic locations and expensive hotels, hmmm?”

Wanda gave a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes… and forked more food into her mouth to occupy it.

Sam chuckled at the intentional silence. “I see how it is.”

“A girl’s got to have her secrets.” Nat supplied, taking her plate to the sink to rinse. “Besides, I don’t recall you being very open about your copious tawdry affairs back at Avenger Headquarters.” Wanda smiled down at her food, thankful for the deflection of topic.

“Copious, yes. Tawdry… never.” Sam grinned back, putting his joined hands up behind his head in bemusement, leaning back in his chair. “I’m an open book about the ladies, Steve can tell yah.”

Steve shook his head, but acknowledged it was true with a dimpled grin. A far cry from his blank expression that used to overshadow his stoic face at any mention of Avengers history. It had been 8 brutal months since the fall-out with Tony Stark and the US government.

“And as I seem to recall, Romanoff, you were caught more than once coming back to the compound. Late. Shoeless….” Sam continued.

“Late night scrapbooking.” The ex-assassin responded dryly. “Scout’s honor.”

“And then we have Mr. Virtue over there. Clamped tighter than a nun’s thighs…” Sam continued.

Steve gave an innocent shrug. “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.” Nat was looking down, but gave a small grin, arms folded over her chest. Wanda briefly wondered if the two had ever connected on a level other than as a commander and his right-hand.

“Tony, well… Tony had Pepper.” The topic was exhausted, but he kept talking. Steve turned away, back to the grimy stove to tidy-up. “Brody,  shit, I don’t know how Brody had time for anything other than cleaning up after Stark, but he consistently wowed even me with all his ‘war stories’ in the battle of love.”

“And Clint was the honorable family-man.” Wanda said half-heartedly. She turned her wrist up to check the time on her watch.

“Yeah. Good man. Good man.” Sam nodded, respect for the settled existence that Hawkeye had found and chose over a life on the run. “And then there was Vision...”

Wanda’s grip on her fork slightly tightened. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t figure that guy out. He invited to his room, like, twice to talk about a painting he purchased. Twice. One of the three things in his room. A little odd…”

Wanda’s jaw tightened. The painting was a New York Street Artist’s rendition of the Tree of Life. The artist was also blind. He created a picture from memory, using odd colors to convey a synthetic translation to the image to stand out against what would be considered normal and correct. It created something beautiful and breathtaking in the process. It resinated with Vision deeply. The proceeds went to a medical facility that specialized in therapeutics for children with disabilities. Wanda had been there with the Synthezoid when he had become enamored with it at first sight. Had come to his room numerous times afterwards to talk about it, or just sit with him, staring at it’s mastery as he read aloud.

“I don’t think he ever…you know?” Sam finally said. It cut through Wanda’s thoughts. “I mean, how could he? I don’t think he even had the… machinery… for it. Poor guy.”

“Sam…” Steve didn’t have to look at Wanda to feel her bristling. He didn’t always understand it, but he knew that she had a close friendship with the synthezoid.

“Oh don’t tell me you never wondered about it.” Sam huffed.

“No, Sam. I don’t wonder about a teammate’s junk.” Steve turned around, impatient that his friend wasn’t picking up on his annoyance. He took a sip from a mug of black coffee.

“Or lack, there of.” Sam countered, oblivious.

“I have to go.” Wanda stated, louder than needed. She went to the sink with her plate.

“To be fair, Vision has molecular control of his physical structure and density.” Natasha continued, to Steve’s surprise. “So, in theory, he could get the job done. But it would be very one-sided.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “How so?” 

“I imagine it would be like using an over-elaborate vibrator. All sensation for the partner… nothing for him.” Nat shrugged. “A safe and controlled simulation, where there is nothing asked of you.”

Sam blinked at the thought-out response. “Damn, Romanoff…”

Dishes clanked loudly, even angrily, at sink. Wanda didn’t meet Steve’s concerned look. “Sorry I don’t have time to clean these.” She strode to her bags on the couch and muttered a farewell before storming out of the apartment. The door slammed shut with the flick of Wanda’s wrist and a flash of bright scarlet energy. 

Sam’s brown eyes drifted from the door where the youngest teammate had just left. He glanced at Steve and Nat. “Did I say something?”

“We all did.” Steve put his mug down on the counter, brows knit in concern. “Vision is her friend. She misses him.” He gazed at the hot brown liquid in his mug thoughtfully, thinking of those who he missed. “We shouldn’t have talked about her friend that way.”

“Oh…” Sam blinked, and then frowned at himself. “I didn’t  think… Should I go and-?“

“Just stop talking for a sec and take your pills.” Nat interrupted, striding over to him to offer two painkillers in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “I’ll go talk to her. Smooth things over before she leaves.” Sam nodded sheepishly and accepted her offerings.

Steve made a noise of protest, to perhaps leave Wanda be, but Nat gave him an understanding “Time for Girl Talk” wink before stalking after her companion’s trail out the door.

It didn’t take her long to catch up with Wanda, who walking down the stretch of road to the nearest bus pick-up to take her to the station.

“Hey.” Nat called, not even out of breath after the jog. “You did forget something,” she held up a flash drive. “…with the next meet-up location, job details, instruction on-“

“How could you say all that about him?” Wanda shot back.

Nat considered her young teammate… her friend… for a moment. “Well, it’s the kind of thing I would say if I didn’t think that you had an intimate relationship with Vision going on, currently.”

Wanda’s lips thinned into a firm line. She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet.

“It’s the kind of thing that throws the boys off the trail about what I saw in the Netherlands when I tailed you.” Nat shook her blonde-dyed head. “I hate lying to teammates. Especially Steve. But out of respect for you and female bonding, I’ve kept my word. Keep yours and don’t let your feelings ruin your focus.”

“If you think my focus is a problem, why even let me go?” Wanda asked.

“I wouldn’t.” Nat retorted. “But Rogers seems to think you deserve some semblance of a young-adulthood. He thinks your mysterious Euro-boyfriend phase is healthy for you. And that’s of utmost importance, considering how closely your control is tethered to your emotions.”

Blunt, as always, but Wanda appreciated the honesty. And the freedom. She reached out for the flash drive after a moment. “I’ll keep my head down. Check in when I need to.”

Nat nodded approvingly, then turned to leave.

“Natasha,” Wanda called, halting her friend. “Did…did you mean what you said, though?” She searched Nat’s guarded blue eyes for truth. “That…he can’t feel what I...”

The silent response was deafening.

“That I’m  just… using him?” Wanda finally ventured.

“I won’t pretend to understand… any of that.” Natasha shrugged. “But what does it really matter what I think?”

It wasn’t reassurance. And the cold sentiments expressed in the apartment would loop themselves in Wanda’s head, no matter how loud she turned up her music on the bus. And then later on the long train ride.

As farmland and rolling hillsides blurred past, Wanda kept her forehead pressed against the cool glass of her window. She felt like Vision, her mind endlessly running and playing out memories and scenarios whether she wanted it or not. Analyzing and computing to try and find a solution to ease the pit in her stomach. 

She knew that Vision could feel. She had stumbled upon that realization during one of their first few kisses, 5 months ago. What linked her given abilities to it’s source in Vision’s forehead, though unexplainable, proved that what she felt for him…label-less yet profound…he definitively felt for her. And her absence from him, the lack of that engulfing feeling, caused him a wounding loneliness. It’s what had made Wanda want to give herself fully to him.

But with the introduction of intimate relations 1 month later…

Vision had learned everything there was to know about her body and what delighted it. What actions and sentiments yielded the most sincerest, and surfeited, responses. Always so lost in her desires and satisfaction, she always believed it when he said that his greatest pleasure was bringing about hers. But if she really thought about it…. really thought about it…

Wanda pulled her knees into her chest, boot heels digging into her seat. 

He didn’t moan. He didn’t sigh. He didn’t heave. He didn’t lose himself like she could completely in him. His eyes never left her face even when she had to close hers in convulsive ecstasy. His broad and handsome smile was always waiting for her when she would come back to reality. Waiting and in need of no reprieve.

She hated this feeling. This feeling that she was doing something wrong. That she was taking and taking without giving when she would literally set the world on fire if it meant Vision’s well-being.

Wanda was so consumed that she didn’t look up to take in the environment of Moscow as the taxi pulled in to take her to the hotel. She almost dreaded it. She was tugging at her sleeves to cover more of her hands. Did Vision have resentment about this? That she could flaunt how human she could be when he couldn’t? She hadn’t thought about that when she took the plunge to have him. She had followed instincts and emotion… like always. Wanda rubbed her forehead, upset with herself.

She checked in as usual, requesting a key to a room under “Victor Shade”, always left for her at the front per Mr. Shade’s instructions. The front desk clerk was beaming at Wanda, expressing how nice Victor was and how he talked about his world-traveling girlfriend with so much admiration. Wanda smiled weakly and accepted the extra $100 room credit gift because Victor was just “so sweet to hotel staff”.

Wanda stepped off the elevator and drudged down the hall to their room. She arrived and took her keycard out, ready to use it on the card-scanner, when the door swung wide open. 

Vision was there, beaming down at her stunned face, keycard still held up in her hand. Though of course, at the risk of being seen even for an instant, he was visible in his human mapping. Blonde hair smoothed with a slight, playful waive. Skin fair but peppered with human imperfections like freckles, freshly shaved skin texture. But his cerulean eyes were the same piercing blue true to his actual form.

“The front desk computer confirmed your arrival.” He said, to quell her surprise. “Wanda. Darling.” He said, deeply, and reverently. “Welcome to-“

Wanda let her bags fall to the floor and leaped up into his arms, legs wrapped as high on his torso as she could manage, lips crushing the end of his sentence. Vision grinned handsomely against her needy lips.

“I’ve missed you.” She managed finally, pressing her cheek against his.

“I reciprocate your sentiments.” He combed graceful fingers through her auburn hair. “Considerably, so.

***

Ever the perfect gentlesynthe, Vision carried his barnacle of a girlfriend to the suite’s luxury bathroom. She detached from his waist with a gasp as he showed her the candlelit bathroom, large clawfoot tub frothing with lavender scented bubbles, soft piano renditions of movie love-themes emanated from a portable radio he had relocated from the bed stand. He gave a controlled ray from the mindstone in his forehead to bring the lukewarm temperature of the bath back to a simper again.

“Vision… this is…”

“Exactly what you need after a long day of training and travel.” He placed a hand on either side of her head tenderly and tilted her forehead up to plant a kiss. His human facade shimmered away with the contact. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Wanda then realized that she didn’t even eat her whole dinner. Hours ago. She reconsidered. “Well…”

“How about Olivier Salad? Or Shuba? Better known as ‘Herring under a Fur Coat’? A Russian delicacy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Wanda scrunched her nose up at Vision.

“Cocktail shrimp and cheese sticks it is. “ He grinned at her default preference.

“And wine! You know the kind I like…” She added, unzipping her jacket.

Vision smiled, emitting a chuckle. He left her in privacy to unwind and rejuvenate, while he called down to the front about room service to be delivered in 30 minutes. He then sat down to compose a note on hotel stationary, thanking the staff for the lovely presentation of the room and the warm reception for his Wanda. Satisfied with the flourish of his penmanship, he then accessed streaming guides to find vintage sitcoms that might please Wanda.

Only 10 minutes had passed when he heard his name being called from the bathroom.

The synthezoid was there in an instant, concern conveyed in his tone. “Wanda, I’m here. Are you-“

“I’m fine, Vis.” His human girlfriend peeked over the tub’s edge, visible only from her shoulders and up. Her long hair was wound in a sloppy bun, piled atop her head. “I just… wanted to look at you…”

Vision felt his lips curl into yet another smile. A frequent, unprompted state of expression when Wanda was near. “And…?” He inquired, kneeling to the floor to gain eye-level with her rich hazel gaze. 

Wanda bit her lip, taking his hands in her own, lacing her soapy fingers with his maroon digits. “And… I think you are wearing far too much. For a bubble bath.”

“You would like me to join you?” Vision asked, after a beat of processing the subtextual request. “Would that not defeat the purpose of… relaxing?”

“I’m tired of relaxing alone.” Wanda retorted, leaning her head down against their joined hands. “Come assist me.”

Vision stood, untangling his fingers from hers, and began stripping down. He could easily phase through his clothing, but he found the act of undressing much more interesting and human than being unencumbered by the physical properties of clothing. It also slowed down his naturally speedy rhythm of existence, which he observed pleased Wanda. The human drank in the sight of her nude synthetic boyfriend, mindlessly swirling her index finger around in the warm water she soaked in.

One long vibranium-infused leg stepped into the tub. Wanda maneuvered to the far end to make room, until Vision had sat down, adjusting his sculpted length to the confined space. She floated herself to sit on his lap, her back leaning heavily into his chest, auburn head resting against the dip of his shoulder. She signed deeply and emitted a noise of contentment at the feeling of him against her. Vision brought a hand up to cup her dainty shoulder. The other slipped across her belly, splayed out to absorb the toned smoothness of her.

“This feels nice.” Wanda murmured. Vision smiled into her neck, planting a firm kiss at the base. “Does this feel nice, Vision?”

Something in her tone of her inquiry sounded peculiar. As if there was an answer she was desiring. It puzzled the Synthezoid, who had most of her variations of responses and phrasings committed to his memory. But humans were complex and ever-evolving. Wanda was no exception.

“I am very content  to be a variable in your relaxation.” Vision retorted. He was met with silence. She was unable to see the smile on his face falter. “Unless… you wish for something more stimulating now…” HIs hand skimmed through the water, over slick skin, down her navel, to the her silky region. Seeking her sensitive entrance…

Wanda lightly clenched her thighs together, pulling his hand up out of the water and kissing his knuckles. “I just want to sit like this for a bit, Vis.”

There was a pause before his response. It made Wanda wince. “Of course, darling. Whatever you desire.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Is this alright?”

“Yes…it feels nice. It always feels nice.” Again, her words said pleasant things, but conveyed a tone ill-at-ease.

“Wanda?” 

She turned to face Vision, straddling his lap. Chest to chest.

“I’m sorry….I…” She sighed deeply. “Natasha said something and… it got to me.” Wanda looked up into Vision’s cerulean eyes. “I don’t… use you… do I? When we are together?”

“Use me?” What an odd statement.  His hand cupped the side of her face. “I have no qualms about being put to ‘use’ by you, Wanda. Ever. If that is what you ask.”

“No. I mean… ugh, how do I say this….”

“You know you can say anything, Wanda. I’m made of vibranium. I won’t be damaged.”

Wanda smiled weakly. He had come so fair in his speech patterns. Had learned personality traits that he obviously preferred. She could feel… him… a soul within, if that was what it was. She took comfort in that. 

“When we come together, intimately-“

“Sexually.” Vision supplied. Unabashed.

Wanda huffed. “Yes…sexually… you give so much. And I’m not complaining. At all. It’s… unreal.” 

Vision smiled tenderly, placing another hand on her other cheek, kissing her lips the way she had showed him awhile ago. He liked the little noises she made when he did so. And would watch her face as their lips departed from one another, her eyes usually heavy with serenity and arousal.

But not tonight.

“What do I give you, Vision?” Her inquiry was direct. She rested a cream-colored hand against the rich maroon and reflective vibranium of his chest.

Vision tilted his head at her. “Your pleasure and well-being is of paramount significance to me.” His eyes blinked excessively as she pulled her face away from his contact. He had said something unsatisfactory. “Is that not enough?”

Wanda’s gaze was now downcast. “I suppose I underestimated how much it would mean to me. To not be able to give you pleasure. To not see you able to take it for yourself, instead of just for my sake.”

The sythezoid’s eyes darted away as he processed. Avoiding her returned hazel glance. He knew it would betray his discomfort. But stoicism was not what he wanted with his Wanda during moments like these. He wanted her to see him… really see him… even in time of uncomfortable vulnerability. 

“This body was not made with human reproduction in mind, but synthesized evolution.” Vision said, finally breaking the silence. “Pleasure, desire… arousal… these are constructs that I loosely understand in definition only, and by observing how they manifest in you…who I care a great deal for. And that was enough for me.”

“Was?”

He finally brought his eyes back to her face. Her expression, contorted in aching sympathy, made his eyes close. The repressed hurt upon his face seemed an honest response, though he knew it would further upset the situation. He sought to remove himself before causing Wanda more distress.

“Vision, no…” She gently protested, but his form  disappeared from the tub and rose outside of it. The vibranium striations across his broad back glittered from the reflection of the flickering candlelight. “Vis…”

He turned towards her, his smile was back, as if it had never left. “Room service will be here soon. I surmise it best I not greet them naked.” He stooped to kiss her on top of her head, then collected his clothes before leaving her presence.

[lovlydovlyjaycie]

Ævi - Frontlines

Hey again! This will be a continued series. The first Ævi series is in my masterlist and is only four parts. This is going to be a ongoing series, so there is going to be a lot more of Ævi to come. :)

Summary: Y/n or also known as Ævi has lived through varies of world events. Now it is 1941, she has excepted that some things cannot be changed so Loki has convinced Y/n to go to New York and live a normal life, a life Y/n always wanted. Or as normal it can be, because new introductions lead to events that didn’t go down in the history books.

Warnings: Fluff

Characters: Y/n, Loki, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Part 2

Two weeks later

Bucky POV

“How about Dottie?” Steve asked. He was asking me if I went on any other dates with her. But truth be told. After I had met Y/n I couldn’t think of anybody else. I sighed and took a sip of my coke, we were sitting at a diner. “No? Buck you still got your mind on this girl? It’s been two weeks.” He tried to reason. He was right, but a girl like y/n I have never met before. “She was somethin’ else Steve.” Was all I has to say. “How was she so special?” Steve asked. “She was beautiful, you had to see her. She had this beautiful smile and this glistening in her y/e/c eyes. She carried herself in a way that was just so graceful. And she was so kind. and her laugh, Steve, you had to hear her laugh.” I sounded crazy, but that one encounter with her was what that did to me. “Well if it is meant to be you’ll see her again.” He tried to cheer me up. I looked out of the window at all the people that were walking around going places, work, home. “Maybe it wasn’t.” I said quietly. I wanted to look for her, but she would definitely think I’m crazy if I succeeded in that and I wouldn’t want to scare her away. In the corner of my eye I saw a woman walking the same walk as y/n did. I tried to get a better look, as much as I could with the window being in the way and the people on the street. I could only see her back. She had a yellow dress on with the same hairdo as y/n had that night. “It’s her.” I couldn’t believe it. I immediately stood up and walked out of the diner as fast as I could. I kept a quick pace to keep up with her. “Y/n!”

I must have startled her, she turned around a little shocked looking to who ever just called for her. “Y/n.” I said again coming closer. “Hey.” I gave her an awkward wave. “I saw you from out of the diner and had to say hi.” I quickly explained. This might have been a mistake, because she still hasn’t said anything yet. “Uhm, hi, Bucky. I didn’t think I’d see you again.” She said the last part a little more quiet. “Oh, uhmm-.” This was a mistake, a stupid one. I mean of course what would anyone think if some guy ran up to them after only seeing them once for an hour two weeks ago. “No! I didn’t mean.. Sorry.. How have you been? It’s been like, what? Two weeks since we had an escape?” She said making light of this awkward situation. I laughed at that. “I’ve been doing good. Just grabbin’ some food with a friend of mine at the diner over there. How about yourself? You look beautiful.” Shouldn’t have said that last part. She is probably gonna run away screaming. But then I heard her angelic laugh, that made me smile. I hadn’t heard it in so long. “Thank you. I was actually on my way back home. Not doing a lot today.” She told me. “Well.. If you want you can join me and my friend, Steve, for some milkshakes? Only if you want.” Please say yes, please say yes. “Steve? I think you had mentioned him when we met, right? He left you alone on the dancefloor.” I snorted at that. “Yes, him. Other than leaving me behind on the dancefloor he’s a good pal.” Again she gave me a beautiful laugh. “Well, I would like to meet him then.” That made me sigh in relief, I was so happy seeing her again. And now I get to spend time with her. And Steve will now know I wasn’t just drunk talking to myself the other night. “Great follow me.” I put my arm out for her to take and she did. I could smell her perfume, it was some sort of citrus, it smelled amazing. Keep it together Buck.

We walked in the diner to the booth I was sitting with Steve. I waved at him and he looked at me with big eyes. “Steve, this is Y/n. Y/n this is Steve.” I introduced. Steve stood up and patted down his clothes quickly before he put his right hand out. “Pleasure to meet you ma’am.” He said I snorted. Y/n took his hand. “Nice to meet you Steve.” She responded. I motioned for us all to sit down and a waiter came over. I ordered us all some smoothies. “So.. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Steve started as I gave him a glare. I had only seen her once before. “Oh, he has.” Y/n gave me a look. I was busted. After all the ways I could’ve embarrassed myself, this is how, with Steve. “He has now? What are the things he has told you?” She asked Steve. I swear if this kid embarrasses me more. And by the look he gave me he was going to embarrass me more. “Oh, well just that he can’t stop talking about how beautiful and funny this dame is he met at the dancehall. Ahh.” Under the table I kicked Steve. That is enough. “Did he now. And it was me right? Or did you meet another beautiful dame there after I left?” She asked me narrowing her eyes and smiling at me. “What no! It was you definitely you.” I stammered rubbing my neck awkwardly. If I had known I was going to be this embarrassed I would’ve sat at a different table. Who am I kidding, I would still embarrass myself then. All she did was laugh again, that made me smile. The milkshakes couldn’t come fast enough and when they were placed in front of us I took a big gulp, hoping to cool myself down. Didn’t work.

After a short moment of silence Steve continued small talk. “So what do you do for a living?” Steve asked. That intrigued me as well, I didn’t know this. “Uhm, well my family invests in anything that seems interesting all over the world. We have a lot of connections and houses all over the world because of that.” Interesting. They must know exactly what to invest in then. She seems like she or her family have a lot of money. “Where over the world do you have houses.” I wondered out loud. “In Sweden a few, but that’s where I am from. Then we have a place in Norway, Italy, France and the Netherlands, Australia and now I’m looking for a place here. I have been staying in a hotel so far. And I used to have a place in Germany, but.. you know.” The war in Europe, we are all hoping this ends soon. Germans or Nazi’s taking over killing. “It is awful that that is happening.” I stated not really knowing what else to say. “Is your family in Sweden still?” Steve asked. “Yes, but luckily Sweden has been neutral so far.” Y/n looked down so I gently took her hand. “I’m sure it will all be over soon.” It had to be. She looked at me and nodded. She held my hand a little tighter. Considering the topic that made my heart beat a lot faster and I was almost scared she could hear it. Cause I certainly did.

Y/n POV

I held Bucky’s hand a little tighter. Considering what I know I still wished he was right. I wished that that awful nightmare would end now and that it would be the end of it. But millions of people would still die and I couldn’t do anything about it. Over the years I had tried to stop or help with world events that would lead to a lot of deaths, but always it would do absolutely nothing. If I tried to kill someone that would late cause a lot of tragedy, something always seemed to go wrong and someone else would die. Believe me I have tried to kill Hitler himself in WWI, but I missed. I tried to get him in to a painting school as a last resort, but he got denied. Always nothing seemed to work. And everything that went down in the history books that I know happened exactly like it was written. It was a sick game knowing exactly what was going to happen, but I could not do anything to stop it. Loki had seen that it was getting to me and wanted to leave earth and go back to Asgard, but that was too hard for me. If I did that it felt like I wasn’t even trying to do anything, even if it was small. I keep getting in my own head about this situation, so I decided to change the subject. 

“So have you guys been keeping up with football or baseball?” I asked. I didn’t really care much for it, but they might. “Yes! Next month our team is playing, but it is impossible to get any tickets the baseball game.” Bucky said excitedly. “I’m telling ya, we just need to show up there and hope that others might not show up, so we can take their seats.” Steve responded. Alright they love baseball. I smiled. “Who’s playing?” I asked. “The Dodgers against the Phillies and it’s gonna be here in Brooklynn.” I’ll have to look into seeing if I can get tickets for that for them. They seem excited about that.

After some more time and more small talk Steve excused himself. “He seems nice.” I noted out loud. “He’s a good kid, but seems to get himself in trouble a lot.” Steve didn’t seem like a troubled kid. “How come he gets in trouble so much?” Genuinely curious. “He wants to stand up for what is right. Fight against the bullies you could say.” “But that is not bad.” I told him. “No it’s not, but Steve is not a big guy or anything and seeing that the bullies usually are the big guys gives him a disadvantage.” I see what Bucky means now. “You fight any bullies?” I asked him squeezing his left hand. It made me smile. The first time I met him I couldn’t let go of his hand and now again. It didn’t feel uncomfortable even though we barley knew each other. It felt like the opposite, it felt like we had known each other for a very long time. “Not like Steve has.” He said smiling. “Here’s your check.” The waitress interrupted. This was the first time Bucky had let go of my hand to reach for his wallet. Instantly it felt empty. “Let me-.” Bucky started. “Oh no you don’t have to pay for my-.” “I insist.” He said as he put his hand on my purse. 

As we walked outside I looked at my watch and saw it was getting late. ”Oh, I need to go it’s getting late.” I told Bucky. “I can walk you back, where ever you need to go.” He said with hopeful eyes. Honestly I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. It felt nice seeing him again. So I nodded in response and we walked back to a hotel I had a room at in Brooklyn. It wasn’t very far from the diner, I really was almost back before I saw him. “I am happy that I saw you again Bucky.” I told him honestly. “I’m happy that I saw you walking outside. Honestly I had been hoping that our first encounter wasn’t our last.” We both smiled at that. “So you and Steve were not lying that you couldn’t stop talking about me.” I said jokingly. He laughed at that, he had such an amazing laugh, so light hearted. “No, he was telling the truth.” I thought that was very sweet. I walked slightly closer to him and our hands were slightly brushing up against each other. I wanted to grab his hand so badly. I decided to do it when I man walked in-between us separating us a little farther. We both let out a breathy laugh at that cause of the awkwardness. We tried again getting closer and closer when another man tried to walk between us. Bucky quickly grabbed my hand and put it us so the man walked under us. The stranger seemed a bit shocked at that, which made it all the more funnier. We both started laughing and Bucky pulled me closer. “This time I’ll make sure it won’t happen again doll.” He said half jokingly but also serious. Because of that I felt my cheeks heat up. “Such a charmer.” I noted, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes as I said that, cause I knew I would turn more red if I did. 

We walked around the corner of the block. “Well this is me.” I said a bit sad. “Thank you for walking me back, even though it was a short walk.” I was looking at our hands not ready to let go yet. “Of course doll, no problem.” And he put on his charming smirk. “Before you go. I was wondering if.. Would you like to see me again, maybe?” I gave him a big genuine smile. “I would like that very much.” And his smirk turned in a full smile. “Great can you do this Saturday at six?” He asked eager of my answer. “I can do Saturday.” “Alright it’s a date I’ll pick you up here then.” He said happily. “Ok! See you on Saturday.” I stepped closer and gave him a kiss on his cheek. I slowly stepped away and let goof his hand. I waved at him before walking inside the hotel and hearing a “Yes!” From Bucky who was still standing outside. He’s a good man.

-

As just closed the door of my room I heard a knock. Loki. I sighed and walked over. “Where have you been?” He asked already stepping inside. “What are you concerned now?” I asked Loki. “You said you’d be back by three... It’s almost five. Where have you been.” I rolled my eyes. “Not like I can’t protect myself or anything. Not like I have this weird energy shielding me.” Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “You said three, it’s almost five now. Where have you been?” Loki asked more calmly this time. “Nowhere in particular.” I said not really wanting to answer him. Because I already knew his response if I told him I saw the guy from the dance. “Y/n. I don’t like to play these games.” He started. “Since when? I thought you were the trickster God? Or has that changed in the time I was gone?” “Y/n..” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Alright fine. The guy I met at the dance was at this diner that I walked passed and he asked me to go for milkshakes. And I know what you’re gonna say, but it was just a milkshake, nothing more.” Loki walked up closer to me. “Was it?” He asked. “Well.. He asked me out for this Saturday.. and I kinda said... Yes.” I answered and Loki sighed. “Y/n, you’re going to get hurt, again... You need someone that is not.. what’s the word.. Die. They grow old and die and you’re still you. You need someone who can be there for you, not someone that you have to be there for them.” He has told me this so many times. “Who is that person than?” Loki got quiet at that. And I decided to leave it at that. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” I said as I was walking towards my bathroom. “Oh one last thing.. It is just a date. It doesn’t mean anything.” I said as I closed the door of my bathroom.

It doesn’t mean anything. It is just a date. Nothing more. Bucky is just.. a random guy I met and I am going to see him for a third time. After that I am not going to see him anymore. It doesn’t mean anything. 

-

Saturday

So that was a complete lie I told myself before the date. Bucky was wearing a very nice tuxedo and had his hair done. He had given me some flowers, tulips. They looked lovely. I wasn’t excepting this much. And the date itself.. He did all the things right. He made me laugh, he made me feel comfortable. “Bucky you’re being too kind tonight. This restaurant? The flowers? You? This has been amazing!” I said genuinely and took his hand again. Taking his hand every time felt good. “Really? I was nervous to take you to a restaurant like this.. I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be up to your-.” “No, all of it was perfect.” I interrupted him. After that I excused myself to go to the ladies room, but I went to the host instead to pay for dinner. I am not letting him pay this time. “Alright we can go.” I told him when I came back. “I just need to pay for tonight doll then we can go.” He told me. “Nope, we don’t, I payed. And before you say anything, you can pay me back by taking a walk with me right now. I don’t want this date to end, not yet.” I put my right hand out and he took it and we walked out.

Outside we were both enjoying the cool night breeze. “It’s cloudy today.” He noted. “It is.. you can’t really see the stars.” He nodded at that. “You have to be lucky to be able to see stars in a city like this. Did you live in a city in Sweden as well?” He asked. “No, I.. It’s a island where I lived and they are basically stuck in time. Not really noticing what is going on outside of that island.” I decided to tell him the truth on that. I don’t know why I did. Usually I would lie and say Stockholm, but with Bucky I didn’t want to do that. It wasn’t even a thought to lie. “That sounds interesting to live like that. What do you prefer?” And I honestly didn’t have a answer for that. I loved the island Kattegat, but I only went there when I wanted to take a breather from the world and live the life.. Bjorn.. always wanted to keep alive. The Viking life. It was something for me to hold on to for all this time. The world was moving so fast and Kattegat always stayed somewhat the same, at peace. Kattegat was my vacation and the rest of the world was basically my work. “I like both. What about you?” Was all I had to say. “I like the city. It’s fast paced. It’s the future. I mean have you seen Stark industries? What they’re doing there you won’t find on a secluded island.” I laughed at that. “Stark? he sounds familiar.” Bucky’s eyes lit up. “He is this brilliant guy and rumor has it he is building a flying car. Before you know it everybody will have flying cars! trust me.” I laughed at that. “And his name is Stark?” He nodded his head. “Howard Stark is his name.” I hummed at that. “I have heard of that name I think.. a long time ago.” And I am pretty sure I have it sounded so familiar, but it was such a distant memory. Over the years a lot has happened and I have been better at remembering faces than names. Especially from before I got sucked back in to time. 

A cold breeze went by and immediately Bucky gave me his jacket. “What a gentleman.” I said and he smirked. “Always doll.” He said. I couldn’t help but smell his jacket straight away. It smelled like fall, the woods. We got to a pier and could see the New York skyline. “Isn’t that a sight.” He stated. “It is as I stepped closer to his side. He put his arm around my back and I rested my head against his shoulder. “I really liked tonight.” I said out loud, but it was more meant for myself. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. And I’ll be sad to go back home soon. “I did too. I would like to see you again.” And Bucky looked down at me. “I would like to see you again too.” I said turning my head towards him. “Tomorrow again?” He said softly. Our faces were close I could feel his breath on my skin and smell his cologne better now. Wood, grass and peppermint. “Tomorrow again.” I answered back getting closer to him. Bucky inched closer as well and our lips were almost touching. He rested his forehead on mine and our noses bumped. He was waiting, trying not to overstep any boundaries. I didn’t know if I should tell him I probably wanted to kiss him just as bad as he did me. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. For a short moment we just took each other in. His soft lips against mine. I put my hands up against his chest and he moved to put his hand on my neck and one on my back. Pulling each other closer.

Loki is going to kill me if he finds out.

...

..

.

Let me know what you think :)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Whistling in the school halls (The Big, Big Bang, Part 2.)

Series summary: Sometimes, you might feel lonely in the entirety of the universe; of all of the stars, planets and constellations… Until it comes. The big bang that turns the world upside down, the reason why all the stars collide and why you, in the first place, are alive.

Part summary: Walking back to Hogwarts always feel like coming home - whether you are a student, a teacher or a member of the staff... As you hoped soon to be. 

A/N: I am back... For now; I hope I won’t get any other obsession for at least a week.

Word count: 2.6 K

Tagging: @notaliteraltoad​

Series playlist: H E R E

Series masterlist: H E R E

A few days ago:

Life of a freshly-out-of-school wizard in England could get pretty harsh. Especially when you didn't train to be one of the Ministry's office rats and had chosen a different path you wanted to walk in your life. Since you did know from the very start you might not be suitable for the coolest wizard occupation, which was an Auror obviously, you didn't even raise your personal bar that high. When your house professor asked you what you'd like to be doing (it was on one of the profession-regarding interviews when they told you on which OWLs you should be concentrating on), you sat there for a moment before you started to laugh hysterically. And you weren't able to stop yourself for at least a minute before you told them that you didn't know.

For some time, you've been quite interested in being a news writer; a smaller office for a smaller magazine full of not-so-well-known editors sounded about right. Then, you've tried to convince yourself that you'd be a pretty good Quidditch commentator and told your professor about considering a radio-related career. But then you realized - no, that wasn't your stick either. And that was how it went until one evening, you helped madame Pomfrey with one of your ill classmates on the Infirmary. And she notices it too - your knowledge about various illnesses and wounds wasn't bad at all and you had just the right amount of tolerance and strictness to go big in this career.

It was the first time when you didn't start laughing at the profession-related interview (you've been there more than five times since your house professor was sure you don't know what your dreamy career is). Both your OWLs and NEWTs turned out very well since you liked to learn about the topic of healing and helping others. It was just after your last school year when you wrote Dumbledore a letter, asking him if he'd consider taking you under madame Pomfrey's wings as an apprentice (madame was obviously informed about this question beforehand). And while Dumbledore, during one of his many Infamatory visits) told you that he thinks you're not quite ready just yet, he told you that after taking a three-years-long period of training in a hospital facility of any sorts, he will gladly take you as an apprentice and more, if you'd be a great addition, he'd lend you a job as the second nurse at the Hogwarts Infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey, like everyone else, was slowly growing older and it was handy to have a second nurse on hand, in any case, anything would go bad (and as everyone knew, the Quidditch matches could get a bit messy, so it would definitely help to have two paramedics inside the school). He also said that it will be a pleasant change for the students, to have someone fairly young around, so they could maybe talk to you about more personal matters.

And as Dumbledore advised you, you did. For a time, you travelled around Europe and got various medical-paramedics gigs in hospitals all around the continent - you've been working in a school in Romania, in a hospital in France, a Quidditch paramedic at Scotland... In the end, the list you've sent Dumbledore was quite impressive, to say the least. You've done quite a lot in the past three years; jobs other wizards would be rightfully proud of as well. You've attached the long list and recommendations along to a letter you've sent to Dumbledore from the Netherlands, where you've been working as a personal paramedic to an old witch who could barely walk and waited for the response.

In any case, you knew you'll have a job - yet you hoped that Dumbledore would give you a job as one of the Hogwarts staff members. If he wouldn't, you also sent your CV to St Mungo's in London who told you almost immediately that they had a few jobs to offer you if you'd be interested. The old lady you've been taking care of had found another wizard to watch over her as you tensely controlled the owl post every single day.

It almost seemed that Dumbledore not only won't give you a chance but that he forgot about you altogether. You've sent the letter at the start of the summer, filled with high hopes. These slowly faded away during August and at the start of September, you simply knew you'll have to take the job at St Mungo. It wasn't a bad job at all, you didn't mean that, yet there was something particular about Hogwarts... The school have you so much happy memories, friends, experience and the happiest time of your entire life. It felt like home and you wished you could repay the school everything that it had taught you and what it had given to you. In many ways, it felt like home and you'd do anything just to get back there.

The day when the letter came was a cold one with one of these grey-like where the skies are black to describe it the best and when you really realize that the autumn has come. For a few days now, you've been living back at your parents - it was until you'd find yourself a small place somewhere. Your interview at St Mungo was set to happen three days later, so for now, you've been enjoying a cuppa as you sat in the kitchen of your parents' small house while listening to some radio. There was still no ideal flat, no response from Hogwarts and not a single idea about what job proposition you'll be offered in the end.

Dumbledore's approach to the situation was confusing you, to say the least - you always knew that he's a nice, calm man and this simply didn't make much sense. He'd send you at least an owl with declining your offer, right? Right? But there was dead silence from his part. As usual, your mind started spiralling into the most absurd scenarios - what if the letter wasn't delivered? What if it got lost somewhere? What if someone who wasn't supposed to read Dumbledore's personal correspondence had read it? At that moment, you cried out at the feeling of sudden pain.

Your eyes turned into a grumpy owl who was sitting in front of you. Presumably, given the expression it had in its eyes, she was sitting there for quite a moment. It had a massive letter tied up to its claw and it was shifting weight as it waited for you to pay it any attention. Where did it come from was no mystery; the window behind you was open widely. And from whom it was was no question either - you'd recognize the green ink and heavy envelope anywhere. With shaky fingers, you paid the owl and sent it off, sitting down to read the letter. Before you opened it up, you mumbled a short prayer; you hoped that Dumbledore will still accept your offer and that he might invite you to his school as a paramedic apprentice.

As you read the neat, curvy handwriting, your brain couldn't quite wrap itself around it. You had to read it out loud for a few times before your mind realized that 'I would like to invite you for an interview in my office, tomorrow at noon. I sincerely hope that it is not too late - I was travelling for the whole summer and got to my mail just recently. With regards...' meant that you still had a chance of getting the job you'd like to keep one day.

Just like he asked you, you got ready for the interview tomorrow, telling both your parents about it as soon as they got back from work. As it usually is, you prepared everything the evening before, making sure you will make it on time. And you did make it on time... Until you apparated in Hogsmeade and got carried away with all of the cool stores in there. At first, you were sure that you had a lot of time on your hand... Half an hour in Honeydukes couldn't hurt anyone, right? This was why an hour later, you've been running on the forest road connecting Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, barely catching your breath. You could just walk there and enjoy it, but you had to forget to check your watch, hadn't you?

When you entered the long-ass bridge leading to the school, you had barely five minutes on your hands. And a grey sweater that suddenly felt too warm for your liking. Damn, you hadn't run as quickly for some time and you were maybe about to pass out just in front of Dumbledore's door. You chanted that the password is 'Sherbet Lemon', but what was that good for when you wouldn't have enough breath to squeal it at the gargoyle? To make the manners even better, you poked two girls in the courtyard, accidentally making them fall on the ground. As soon as you started to say sorry, they just laughed it off as they got up. - "I am so sorry! I will buy you a lollipop or something!" - You cried out, getting mentally prepared for the last stop of your race - the endless staircases of Hogwarts. You've yelled a breathless greeting at everyone you knew and stormed in front of the gargoyle.

"Sherbet Lemon! Sherbet-!" - You cried breathlessly. The stone statue looked at you with caution, almost asking you if you were doing alright, but in the end, it moved away and let you in. The wall disappeared as well, showing you yet another staircase. You've been ten minutes late because you had to stop now and then to take a breath. Your skin was glistening with sweat, you couldn't breathe normally and your knees were all shaky as you knocked on principal's door. It opened up without hesitation, letting you into the small circular room. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, sending you a graceful smile as you tried not to pass out on him.

"I... Am... So... Sorry... Professor..." - Immediately, you've sat into one of the big plushy chairs, smiling back at him. - "I... Lost... The track... Of time back in Honeydukes. It's totally my fault." - Once again, you sat straight and pushed your back more into the chair as you tried to present yourself in a bit flattering way.

"Oh, Honeydukes, you say?" - Dumbledore asked with a small smile, signing some papers while he talked to you. - "I am not surprised, Honeydukes have always been my favourite place in Hogsmeade." - The man smiled and you nodded at what he had said, trying to read into his words, tone and actions. As far as you could say, he wasn't mad at you - which was a good sign. It could also be caused by the both-sided faux pas; first, he wrote you back after an entire of the month and you came later than you were supposed - that was kind of vetoing everything, wasn't it? - "So, dearest miss Y/L/N... Tell me..." - At that moment, you've been expecting a somewhat professional question that would ask "Why do you want to work in this school?" or "What is your expertise?" and "What makes you believe that you're suited to get this work? It's a lot of responsibility." Instead of that, Dumbledore asked:

"How were you doing in the last couple of years? Long time, no see and as I read in your portfolio, you've been quite busy."

When you were laying in your bed, thinking about the interview, you always imagined Dumbledore being super-serious, having a straight and emotionless face and furrowing at you the whole time. Sure, he never seemed to be this particular type of a guy, but you've never spoken eye-to-eye during your school years; you've been a good student and rarely got into trouble so serious that your house headmaster would send you to Dumbledore himself. In your dreams, you imagined this will all be a huge disaster, something bad and very uncomfortable. If it would be going according to your scenario, he'd shame you and kick you out of his office because you walked inside a few minutes later. Instead of that...

"You're asking about how I've been doing?" - You could hear your voice getting a bit shaky. - "Naturally. It's the decorum and something that simply tickles my interest." - Once more, Dumbledore chuckled and checked the papers in front of his eyes, thanking the quill for writing the document for him.

"Well, I've been doing good..." - With that, a glass of fizzy soda jumped in front of you - since you weren't sure that the drink's for you, you just thanked nervously but didn't touch the glass. - "I didn't really expect the various facilities looking out for young healers. But they took me in with their arms open everywhere across Europe - it was brilliant." - "Oh, I'm glad to hear this. And even though your adventurous life, you still came back here. How comes?"

Just when Dumbledore asked you this question, something struck you. With you curiousness, you took one good look at the jolly old man sitting opposite you. Was it just your imagination or did you hear the slight flash of interest in his words? The time you tried to get this job, Dumbledore told you that you're not experienced enough - now, when you got enough experience, the headmaster was surprised to see you still trying to get the job? Maybe he thought you're better than ending up in Hogwarts? (Not that he wouldn't love the school, it was his home in the end.)

"I've been on a lot of different places and done a lot of different exciting things, but any of them was like this school, Mr Professor. This complex of buildings, the local wilderness, the people... It still feels like home. Well, I've been staying in this school for seven years after all. There won't ever be quite a place like Hogwarts to me." - At that, Dumbledore nodded with understatement. - "Of course, understandable. Most of the teachers I've talked to when hiring them, told me precisely the same thing - Hogwarts is the home they think about with love. Now, since it's quite late and soon, there will be another class of Care of Magical creatures..." - At that, the old man stopped himself and looked out of the window, searching for something. As his eyes found it, he turned his head back at you.

For a moment it could look as if he's not in the moment - that he's bored by you. Why was Dumbledore such a confusing person for you? So, was he planning on giving you the job or were you there just for the kicks? - "I read through your application and was taken away by the variety of skill you were able to gain through your stay abroad. Before we set on the agreement of employing you as the second nurse, would you like to talk about anything else?" - With that, Dumbledore put a small bundle of papers in front of you; presenting you with a contract. Without a word, you just shook your head and took it to your palms.

"Take this home, read through it and highlight the parts you'd like to talk about then. I'll see you on Friday." - With that, the old man stood up and offered you his palm, shaking yours. - "And, by the way... Would you mind taking me the big chocolate bar in Honeydukes the next time you'll be there?"

[liaincursives]

These feelings I got /Lucas’ season

/ all parts together on ao3

It feels like ten decades since I wrote anything that wasn’t for school, but I really wanted to give Lucas his own story and I had a few ideas, so why shouldn’t I share them with  you guys? But  enough talking, enjoy. 

Saturday 9:37

Lucas eyelids felt heavy and numb as hew tried to open them. One small strike of sunlight made his left eye feel like it was burning. He squinted, trying to grab a clear thought. His head weighted him down and the world around him seemed to stop for a second.

It was the day. Yesterday had been the last party in his old life. This was probably the last time he would wake up on the floor in Jaydens room, with Kes slightly snoring next to him and Jayden throwing his bedsheets down on him. He filled his lungs, taking a deep breath as the tears were climbing up his throat. He wasn’t ready to move away, he wasn’t ready to leave Utrecht, he just wasn’t ready for this. 

Until six weeks ago, everything seemed so perfect. Yes, taking care of his mother wasn’t a thing that a 17-year old boy should do, but besides that, Lucas was truly happy. He would go skating with the boys, pay more or less attention to his teachers in class and get high and drunk on a variety of parties in Utrecht. Yes, there had been the whole drama with Kes and Isa, but Lucas released that there were things that were way more important than the feelings he had for his best friend and that he had had struggles handling them in the beginning. He was just happy that he had a stable life, with amazing friends and the freedom that he needed. 

But six weeks ago, the things started to get out of control. His moms episodes got worse, one minute, she was laying on the. kitchen floor and crying for Lucas’ father and in the next, she would throw anything close to her at Lucas, screaming that he destroyed her life and that he was the reason that his father left both of them. Lucas started to build up a wall against the things his moms was saying, he took every opportunity to take care of her and to calm her down, however he wasn’t a professional, so things just kept getting more and more miserable. With taking care of his mom, he started to loose sleep at night, so he used the time he would normally use to go out with his friends to catch up sleep and to at least try to take his best shot in school, as he was graduating soon. 

For about two weeks, all of this worked out okay. Kes was starting to ask questions, but he still still respected when Lucas didn’t want to talk about it, until the day his mom threw a stapler at him. It was an unlucky moment, he was coming home from school and as if she was waiting for the perfect moment, his mom was standing in the hallway, totally out of her mind, with a  big stapler in her hand. She threw and reached her goal. It hit Lucas right over his left eyebrow, but for him, it was nothing to worry about, after all it was just a small cut over his eyebrow. 

The first class he had the next day was P.E. and the young and way too over engaged teacher had just started basketball as a new topic and as the class was running sprints over the court as Lucas vision started to get blurry. He couldn’t remember much of that day, but Kes told him that he passed out on the court and the teacher got furious as she was trying to handle the situation. Lucas woke up on the gym floor, with everyone staring at him. The teacher told him to leave to get a check-up since he didn’t know the reason for him randomly loosing conciseness in class and after two hours sitting in the E.R., a student doctor in a teal scrub told him that the small cut over his eyebrow needed to get stitches and that he was lucky for only having a concussion and nothing worse. 

After left the hospital to get back to school, the guidance counsellor called him to her office. Lucas still din’t know what had possessed him, but in a moment of weakness, he told the old lady with the yellow flower dresses and grey dutch braids about. everything. He told her about the nights he sacrificed for his mom, how he couldn’t see his friends anymore because of that and how afraid he was about not making it in class anymore because he was too tired to concentrate. After the old lady talked to his mom about everything, luckily when she was at least sort of sane, they agreed that it would be the best for everyone if Mrs Van der Heijden admitted herself to a psychiatric hospital. 

The following weeks were horrible. Even though Lucas was almost grown-up, his mom was not okay with letting him liven his own for the next three months. Three months. That was the time a normal stay at the hospital would take, but depending on the patient, it could always. Be longer or shorter. Lucas tried convince his mom that he was independent enough to survive on his own, but she didn’t want to hear anything about it, so she contacted his father. 

Lucas barely even knew him. The only contact they had were the way too expensive birthday- and Christmas presents he got twice a year. His dad probably thought that two, not even personal, presents each year would be enough excuse for leaving them. According to his mum, the decided that it was to best for 4-year old Lucas to stay with his mom, since she was totally okay back then and his friends were in Utrecht, but his father never really got over loosing his only child. 

The whole situation seemed to be the perfect moment to get his lost son back and even though Lucas tried everything to stay in the Netherlands, there was no way in winning a discussion with his father, so he would be moving to Antwerp, where his father worked as a manager for some important company. 

In the past two weeks, Lucas was commuting between Utrecht and Antwerp to bring the most important things over there, but he still was living with his mother, for the reason that she needed to wait for a free space in the hospital. During those weeks, Lucas had learned an important thing: His dad was barely even home, considering he needed to travel a lot to keep up the international connections of his company. On the previous Wednesday, the call came. There was a free spot for his mom, so she moved on Thursday. Everyone agreed that it was seemed the best for Lucas if he would move over the weekend to have time to get acclimatised before starting school, so he spent the last two nights in his city sleeping on a hard air mattress on the floor of Jaydens room. 

Lucas’s gaze wandered over his friends. He still remembered their faces when he told them about everything. The sadness and the tiny disappointment in their eyes. He could still hear Kes asking:”Why didn’t you tell us anything?”. Honestly, Lucas wasn’t even able to answer that question to himself. It just didn’t feel right, whining about his life problems and dragging everything down. He knew that his friend would try everything just so he could stay. Jayden and Liv offered him the empty little room in the flat share, Isas mom even talked to his father, trying to set an example for a child that was living alone, but nothing worked out. Lucas would leave his home. His life. He was about to take the train to Antwerp in less than two hours. 

The door carefully opened and Lucas could spot Livs curly hair peaking through the door. “Are you guys up? I made pancakes and Ralph and Isa are already waiting” The dark rings under her eyes made her look exactly like Lucas felt. The last evening had been a lot. It would have been okay for Lucas to just hang out with his closest friends, but Jayden and Kes were convinced that Lucas deserved a bigger farewell, so they threw a huge party on the rooftop of the flat share. Lucas barely knew the people that came, but spending that last evening with with such a normal thing felt really good. 

The kitchen would have been too small for all six of them, so everyone took a plate and they sat down in the living room, talking about the last evening, but no one really talked about what they were actually thinking. Lucas was going to leave. 

The next time Lucas checked theme on his phone, a feeling of dizziness hit him rightist his stomach. 10:27. They would need to leave to get his train soon.

But Lucas just wasn’t ready to leave yet. For sure, Antwerp was less than two hours away but needing to take the train to see his friends just wasn’t the same. His whole life took stage in Utrecht and now, he was supposed to leave, to live with his dad, who didn’t even know him anymore. Utrecht created him. This city influenced his whole life. This city and the people here…

He could feel Kes’ stare on him. “What? Sorry I got bit lost, it’s just not feeling right to go”, Lucas was a bit confused, but then he realised that his phone was ringing and if he read Kes’ stare the right. way,It hade been ringing for a while now. “Oh damnit, it’s my dad”, he realised as he took his phone and walked over into Jayden’s room. It really wasn’t necessary to fight with his dad. in front of his friends. 

“Yes?” “Listen, Lucas I am really sorry but I can’t pick you up at the station, there is a problem with one of the customers in London, so we need to get there. I would have cancelled it but it’s the most important customer and they would take it really personal if I would send a deputy. And we obviously can’t do it. Believe me, if it wasn’t this company, I would pick you up”, his dad said, stress in his voice like all of his plans got destroyed in the last minute, but it if Lucas was honest with himself, he had expected something like this. “Well, why do you want me to live with you  anyways? It not that you put much effort in the relationship with your son.” “Lucas, we discussed this way too much.  It’s better if you stay with me. Your mom agreed on this too, so please stop trying to change things now. I’ll try to get someone that can help you get the rest of your stuff to the apartment. I need to leave now, but we will go out and catch up when I am back, okay?” Lucas rolled his eyes, “Thanks for nothing”, he said and left the call, then he went back to his friends in the licking room, with a heavy and bitter stone in his stomach. It seemed like his life iin Belgium was already meant to fail. On the other hand, he didn’t want see his father anyways, so having the apartment for himself wasn’t that bad. 

****

They were standing at the train station. The enormous backpack on Lucas’ shoulders felt like an anchor, dragging down his weight and not letting him leave Utrecht. Isa, Jayden and Kes were standing in front of him. “Call me, okay?”, Kes said. “I still can’t Believe you are leaving me. How am I going to control Kes without you?”  “Shut up, Jayden”. A sad grin stole its way into Lucas’ face. He was really going to miss these dorks. 

 The train entered the station. Lucas took the skateboard next to his feet. Isa pulled him into  a hug and the next second, three pairs of arms were pressing all the air out of his lungs. “I am going to miss you guys. I will just take the next train back as soon as I’m there,” he said while stepping through the door. His thoughts were going wild. He had thought about telling Kes everything. About his feelings, how he destroyed the relationship between Isa and him, but since yesterday evening, there hadn’t been any moment without Jayden around them, so he missed the opportunity again.

Sitting down on a place next to the window, Lucas watched his train leave the station and within moments, the world he was used to turned into a drifting mess of colours, made out of fields of tulips and meadows with sheep on them. 

Next part

[basilone]

Hi! Are there any insights or tidbits about the world of the god-chosen/fate-chosen you could give us without giving away any spoilers? I really love the world you're building!

Hiya! Oh goodness, what an honor, thank you so much. I’m very happy to hear that people like you are jiving so much with the sandbox I’m creating stuff in. And of course I’m willing to talk about that little universe and the long bright dark without giving much of anything away..

When I started out writing this, I knew three things about this fic:

It was going to be Speirs-centric. I wanted it to be like a character study, with all the focus staying on him throughout. I briefly spoke about that in this ask as well.

It was going to feature War as a physical presence, as a deity who has a special bond/relationship with Speirs. War was always, always going to be represented by a female presence in this fic. 

The inclusion of War as a deity would naturally mean that there would be other characters who would be similarly affected/touched by a deity.

I had originally thought this would be a one-shot (how wrong I was!) and so I pretty much went into it blind. I didn’t spend any time whatsoever on world-building for this beforehand, so I scrolled back and forth through my own writing a lot to ensure that my make-it-up-as-you-go-along style of writing didn’t create any contradictions in the fic.

The deities I work with in this fic are never named. They don’t belong to any particular mythology we might be familiar with, either, though some aspects of them are rooted in old stories about very particular gods. What they represent more than anything else are concepts: ideas about our universe, representations of parts of our world, you name it. War, Balance, Fate, Home, Manipulation, Wisdom, Love, Water, Earth, and all other deities speak about things that are important to us as humans and that we live with all the days of our lives. The choice to not name them beyond that, to not have them be represented by a particular mythology we know, is a conscious one: I want the reader of the fic to form their own idea of these deities, to be able to see them and connect with them and what they embody.

A lot of the insights about how it all works are hidden in the latter half of this fic, so I think we may need to revisit some of this once the fic is fully published. You have seen most of the stuff that has to do with the use of suppressants, though, so let’s talk about those for a second and we will leave the rest for later if anyone’s still interested then!

When I began to write Ron’s relationship with War, I knew she would have been present in his life from childhood onward. The very first scene I ever came up with for this fic is one that is only referenced in it now: five-year-old furious Ron whacking another kid in the head and War calmly expressing pride in him while Ron’s teacher and Ron’s mother have the freak-out to end all freak-outs. It made me think about what happens in our world when kids act out that way, when they don’t conform to any societal norms, when they somehow don’t mesh with the fabric of our reality. We tend to resort to pills at times to ‘solve’ that, which made me consider that the society Ron lives in might resort to pills to diminish the influence/sway of those deities whose presence is not wanted. Thus, the use of suppressants was born. (Note that Lipton, whose deity is very different from Ron’s, has never taken those pills a day in his life.)

With the existence of suppressants also came one other clear idea: I wanted Ron to be off them for the majority of this fic. I wanted him in a situation where he would lose them and then simply not ask for more (Normandy), I wanted him in a situation where he was consciously not taking them (the Netherlands), and I wanted him in a situation where his access to them was cut off beyond his control (Bastogne-area). I wanted to highlight the folly that’s man trying to control god, but I also wanted to clarify that the army in particular has a right to be concerned about their god-chosen soldiers. Ron is an unstoppable force when finally let loose with his deity’s power running rampant inside and around him, which doesn’t jive so well with the army’s need to control every single one of their pawns in play.

Suppressants, in this universe, essentially ‘muddle’ the connection between man and god. The connection still exists, as being chosen is something only you or your god can change, but it’s more like it’s mixed in with radio static or happening from a distance that doesn’t affect you. It’s why War’s appearance in Normandy is not wholly steady at first, with Ron freshly off his suppressants for the first time since his 18th birthday. (Ah, the stories I could – and will – tell about that particular birthday..) It’s also why her presence in the fic grows as the story goes along: the War we see in the later half of the fic is far more rooted in conversation with Ron, far more physically present, and far more involved in Ron’s life as a whole. There are some interesting conversations ahead about choice, with the ongoing understanding that everything that happens between man and god is on a consensual basis..

I’m not sure what other insights I can give at the moment, but I’m open to any questions about it! Thank you so much, again, for your interest.

[transrightsjimin]

honestly class consciousness is one hell of a ride bc i didnt think abt it much until more recent years. i told my friend as a kid we were poor nd my mom got so pissed at that, nd i mean shes right that we rly werent as bad off as it could be, the family is just working class. but when you suddenly realize youre not on equal footing w middle class ppl, or ppl like my uncle who is one of the very rare few who started working class and not highly educated nd ended up becoming a millionaire in the US (im still coming for his wallet istg), its suddenly all... oh wait there are ppl whose reality is not this full of hurt and few opportunities.

like, being in a university in one of the most diverse cities in the country nd still having so few poc on it and most poc u meet are international students, and having heard some posh classmates talk abt studying "just like our parents" like it's the most evident thing in the world (while im the only person in the family that did college level, nvm university, and family was super proud, it's not a given to us that you do this!), hearing classmates claim that poverty and class are not really relevant for the netherlands anymore bc you now have the nouveau riche and art is less elitist now, so apparently class is less of a thing?? nd university is just such a wakeup call or a slap in the face bc my primary school was called ghetto, my high school was called ghetto, but then my art college prided itself on being very "diverse" while i had never seen this many white students in one place, and it's even worse for my university.

shit like my brother being in prison all the time when i was younger, my best friend when i was 4 having to move away bc her mom ODed on drugs, living next to a house that had 5 weed plantations in it over the years nd our greek neighbours even got pulled into that mess bc they needed money, living across a 'coffee house' tht stored rifles in it, someone across the street setting his house (and thus half the street bc dutch homes are often connected as one row) on fire, my dad working 50 hours a week as a parcel deliverer bc w less hours he doesnt earn enough, even if the fucking job means carrying 80 kilo boxes up stairs and other bullshit, his stress leading to two TIAs (strokes), my mom being super disabled by many physical impairments nd illness nd still not being granted help in the household bc she had a 'healthy daughter and boyfriend' nd also her being left w/o an income for 2 years, practically every high school friend's mom being disabled in some way, then at my mail delivery job where my coworkers complain abt another deliverer bc it took her 3 months to get back to work again nd they called her ‘lazy‘ for not working immediately despite having multiple illnesses and disabilities bc, and i quote, my colleague said “i’m in my sixties and have arthritis and i’m working too“ dude :// hes literally the person my other colleagues say has had it hard and needs a break, and then those coworkers too need a break nd have disabilities nd are nearing pension age and still doing this work while trying to do household work and all that stuff at the same time. my mom said my cousin’s job (in construction; scaffolder) pays “really good“ (i wonder if its really that much bc it’s apparently around €1700-2700 on average) but that he already gets bad physical complaints from it while hes young nd formerly rly fit and might need to quit soon and then figure something out like studying for something else if possible.

the neighbourhood i used to live in as a baby was ‘too criminal‘ according to my parents so then they moved out to the town next to it into a neighbourhood that was eventually labelled among the top ranked ‘criminal‘ neighbourhoods of the country nd now i live in rotterdam south which is basically seen in the same way bc again, more poverty, more families with migration backgrounds etc. it’s like, you can never escape this negative image unless the whole bunch is gentrified or smth stupid and the poor are pushed to live elsewhere again. and just the whole thing of being at home, being at school, being at work, it’s such a trip bc university is so fucking different to me nd u see all these people there who are quite confident in getting good jobs nd u have business students with rich parents who are already some stupid fucking greenwashing entrepreneur aiming to become a CEO, nd even though ppl at my study w all these artsy ppl, they are generally not upper class, most still seem to be so used to the safety of being middle class and make these huge statements about poverty not really being a thing here.

nd then the whole stress nd anxiety tht my parents passed onto me, partially bc of their trauma nd them being fed up w my ‘laziness’ (executive dysfunction nd burnout lol), partially bc they believe strongly in this workers’ ethic thats strongly in line with capitalism (even if my mom used to be part of a socialist party nd still adheres to many of those ideas) but also with this calvinistic and Rotterdam ( / Rijnmond area) ideology that you need to work hard for the entirety of your life in order to be a decent person, so not so much for an economic payoff or ‘success‘; you just have to work hard. my parents always told me ‘you can rest when you’re dead‘ every single time i mentioned or even implied i was a bit tired and it was frustrating to hear. this mentality is what lead to my dad practically getting two strokes, and to my mom overworking herself nd being taken away by an ambulance on my birthday party, it’s the whole fucking reason i do not like the prospect of work bc it is just so associated w something awful you need to get done and that you need to exhaust yourself on it until you hopefully get pension money, if the govt hopefully doesnt raise the pension age even further than 67. and then you see ppl in uni talk abt fun future “careers” like what the fuck are you talking about? how are you gonna get a job in the arts and culture field in this pandemic? im already happy if im able to find a job and dont have to quit due to disability or a chronic illness that runs in both sides of my family. im sorry im being so negative but im stressed about jobs and i think i went on a tangent today all bc i saw one post abt being scared of PE classes nd my mind went to bad places. this is ok to rb or reply to btw, as long as youre a mutual

[warofroyalsrpg]

— ♔ In the past, people were born royal and for REBEKAH OSLIN-RASMUSSEN the TWENTY FOUR-year-old PRINCESS of SWEDEN, that is a tradition SHE intends to keep. To others, SHE looks an awful lot like DANIELLE ROSE RUSSELL and has been painted as LACKING REFINEMENT but behind closed doors, SHE is STUBBORN and BLUNT but also LOYAL and PATIENT . It has also been said they are NOT BETROTHED (but can be UTD in future). (Anna/29/GMT+1/She/Her)

Welcome Princess Rebekah Oslin-Rasmussen, we hope you enjoy your stay and represent your country of Sweden well! The fc of Danielle Rose Russell and the country of Sweden are now taken! Please check out the checklist and send in your account within twenty-four hours.

What is your character’s gender?: Female

Are you filling a wanted connection? If so, which one?: Vidar’s twin, messaged and spoke to Rosie!

Please provide three headcanons about your character:

Rebekah didn’t start properly speaking until after Vidar was taken to Norway for a couple or years by their grandfather. She had a developmental delay with her speech and didn’t speak a word to anyone but Vidar after they had started school, and even then, it was their own made up language, it wasn’t Swedish or French. Though honestly? Their mom probably regrets fixing that, since then Rebekah struggles to shut up. Constantly chattering to everyone which has gotten her in trouble at school during tests and important events more than she can count.

Rebekah has always been fascinated with electronics and was the kid who would scream the house down if she wasn’t allowed to play with her mom’s phone or be allowed to play kids games on the tablet and would fall instantly silent once handed one. This only got worse after her brother went away with their grandfather for a couple of years. Using the electronics as a substitute for her family. Which led to her mom actually forced to take up physical hobbies such as gymnastics and kickboxing to force the electronics out of her hands.

When it comes to games - board games, computer games, card games, Rebekah’s typically sweet personality goes out the window and a vindictive competitive harpy is the changeling left in her place like an invasion of body snatchers. She’s not above distraction tactics to win and she is a sore loser when it comes to games. She hates to admit it, but it’s probably something she gets more from her dad than her mom.

Please provide two or more connection ideas for your character:

A best friend from school (staff/civilian | m or f) - when their father sent the twins back to a  France, Rebekah ended up running straight into someone during her first week of classes after getting lost in the new school; knocking them both to the floor. They ended up chatting and becoming fast friends. They definitely enable Rebekah’s computer gaming addiction and movie nights are a must.

A romantic interest/first love/secret love (staff/royal | m or f) - while she is aware her dad will probably try get her betrothed to another royal at some point to strengthen his hold on the throne and ingrain his bloodline across the royal families, when Rebekah was on travelling the summer before she started university when she was eighteen, she met this person while at the ferry port in The Netherlands, and they ended up travelling together for a month. (Note: This could be extended to dating for a couple of years secretly until the experiment started/her father rose to power in Sweden after taking the throne.)

Please answer the following questions IC:

What is one thing you are proud of/love about your country?

“Which one?” Rebekah muttered bluntly, and almost bitter quality to her tone. “If you mean father’s country? I’m not exactly too sure. I haven’t spent a lot off time there by comparison with mom… I mean, the ABBA museum is awesome? And ABBA themselves - I’m going to say ABBA. Knowing me, knowing you, it’s the safest answer.”

What is the most important thing in your suitcase?

“My gaming stuff, I’m classing that as a collective thing - you didn’t say I couldn’t.” The answer was swift, automatic without pause. “I still have things I need to work on despite being in Russia now. Just because my father has gotten Vidar and I tangled up in all this doesn’t negate the stuff I’m working on and the things I enjoy doing.”

Who and/or what will you miss most from home?

“My mom, without Vidar and I, she only has grandpa. She isn’t like out dad who has a mirage of people to do his bidding. I’m not only going to miss her, but I’m worried about how she’s going to be without us and without getting news of how we’re getting on. At least when we were with dad, she was able to see in the media how things were going.” There was a sigh, wistful, resigned. Being here made her feel like a huge fraud.

[balkanballad]

Eurovision 2020 ranking

welcome to another year and another ranking. the last few years I used to put the songs in different categories, but this year I did that (from top 💐 to flop 🥀) AND gave every song an actual number AND added a comment. wow, so brave, I know. it’s a bit long, but here we go:

💐:

Norway: it was love at first sight and listen with this song. I connect with it, I love the lyrics, the instruments, her, everything about the nf performances. this is my very strong number one this year and, btw, the studio version is so much weaker than the live version

Switzerland: this song makes me very emotional and I love it. his voice is so lovely and with this one I, again, enjoy and feel the lyrics. I am very curious to see what they will do on stage

Australia: I wouldn’t say that I am always a huge fan of the songs with more goofy vibes and staging, but this one is a fave. I wasn’t in a great mood when I listened to this the first time and I remember crying because it was just very fitting to my personal situation. so, me and this song have an emotional connection now. also, I enjoyed the contrast that the staging in the national final gave it. it’s just.. same to everything about this song and performance. it’s also my favourite entry from Australia so far

North Macedonia: my only ‘dance’ song in this favourite category. it makes me wanna dance but in a tango and dimmed red lights way. I would also say that it made me think a bit of Switzerland last year, but I like this better

Croatia: another favourite entry that won a national final! I didn’t have a terribly bad year with national final faves. I might even say that I had a good year. anyway, a Balkan ballad :) with nice lyrics :) a bit sad and great violins :) of course I am into this. I love it

Portugal: I had this saved as a favourite before I saw the live performances and I really like that it won the national final. it’s super sweet, pastel pink vibes and my cup of tea

Finland: sweet! this makes me tear up a bit and I see a pattern this year for my personal preference: songs that make me melancholic and cry a bit. although, no one should be surprised because nostalgia and melancholy seem to always be with me

Denmark: while I was making this ranking and listening to the songs over and over, I think this song moved up the most. this is very sweet. last year was too sweet for me and I think this one is better, but on the edge to crossing that line. however, I love that we have a duet. I’m a big fan of duets. is someone going to propose this year again? this song would be at least perfect for that occasion. or maybe a bit too pushing actually.. 

🌺:

(no. 9) Israel: maybe a tiny little bit too much going on in a 3-minute song and something about it reminded me a bit of JESC songs, but I love the rhythm and I think this performance will be fun 

(no. 10) UK: it’s a good song. the breath! part makes it more interesting and I have this song in my car playlist, which means that I am not skipping it usually. however, I also came across the BBC recording and I am not very convinced that the staging and everything will be enough to secure it a high placing in the end

(no. 11) Romania: oh look, I once again connected to a song because I feel the lyrics. that is probably not the best sign with this song but oh well. I am not the biggest fan of the live version here and prefer the studio recording. maybe another bad sign or maybe it’s just the weird screaming in the back and low quality of the equipment etc.

(no. 12) The Netherlands: I don’t think that they are trying to win another time this year with this, but it’s a cute and sweet song and everyone will cheer anyway. I listened to one live recording and there he sounded amazing

🌻:

(no. 13) Armenia: maybe this would be a guilty pleasure, but it’s 2020 we are just enjoying songs. I think the staging for this song will decide how it goes because the song itself is definitely.. different and not for everyone. the studio version is a lot better than the live performance, the lyrics are a bit repulsive to me and I feel like this could slip in the category ‘cheap’, but the whole song also gives me a weird kind of self-confidence boost when I listen to it 

(no. 14) Azerbaijan: okay, so the song title made me very excited. the lyrics are.. there. I don’t think I was looking for something relatable in this song, but they are just very random to me. funny enough, I think this will be competing with Armenia because of similar vibes and because a lot depends on the staging. however, I think that this might do better because it’s more esc mainstream and has a better flow, but then again, maybe don’t rely on me when I say such things  

(no. 15) Greece: this sounds a bit like a JESC entry to me and I have mixed feelings about it. with this I am also not sure what the message is supposed to be, but I really like the instruments  

(no. 16) Estonia: hm. I must admit that I like this song more than I want to, but I don’t love it. I like the dramatic touch, but it’s not relatable at all, which isn’t necessary a factor for a good song of course. I just like having my emotional support songs and this is not one of them 

(no. 17) Poland: this and Albania are in the same semi and sound too similar, so my prediction is that only one of these two will go through. personally, I like Poland better, but even if none of them makes it, it won’t break my heart I think

(no. 18) Spain: this song feels a lot longer than 3 minutes and it might be because it’s repetitive, but I can listen to it still. just not too often

(no. 19) Lithuania: this is a fan fave, right? personally, I’m just.. not in love. I like the message, but I don’t feel the need to listen to it regularly 

(no. 20) Iceland: it’s alright. it’s there. I can’t really think about things to say about this  

(no. 21) Italy: a ballad. in Italian. ground-breaking. just kidding, I think the fact that it’s in Italian saves it a bit, but I don’t really listen to this. I don’t mind it playing in the background, but it’s also not in my car playlist

(no. 22) Ukraine: I feel like I should technically like this more than I do, but I don’t really listen to this, sorry

(no. 23) Belarus: just like with Ukraine: I think I should like this a lot more than I currently do. I also find this song a bit boring

🌼:

(no. 24) Georgia: not a fan of the screaming, but I see why it fits the song. I am not sure, though, whether this will be the year that they make it back to the final 

(no. 25) Albania: did anyone ask for the English revamp? I don’t think so, but they did it anyway. it is too forgettable for my taste and reminds me of something that they sent already in the past few years, but now it’s in English, so even less original. it isn’t a bad ballad though

(no. 26) Ireland: I know what this song is trying to tell me, but it is trying very hard to make sure we all understand it. it also reminds me a bit of a song that they would play in a disney channel film and it annoys me a bit

(no. 27) France: I might not skip it always, but it’s very repetitive and I still stand with my association of the Netflix show YOU and this (sorry, Tom)

(no. 28) Austria: my friend said that this song sounds like it should be by Sweden and I think that she is right. I never really was into that kind of vibe though, so I am not the biggest fan

(no. 29) Germany: not terrible, but also kind of strange vibes. I don’t like the lyrics (I will tell my mama whatever I want). I also think that Germany took inspiration from Switzerland last year and who knows, maybe they will finally start playing their own songs on the German radio stations and stop playing Sweden’s 2016 entry

(no. 30) San Marino: San Marino is once again bringing the disco vibes, thanks. I can’t watch the video twice in a row because it makes me feel like I’m on a trip, but good for her! I should definitely also get a little more freaky myself sometimes

(no. 31) Sweden: I’m not a fan. I was a fan of other Melfest entries though.. anyway, this is not a bad song of course, but definitely a bit boring to me

(no. 32) Moldova: I don’t hate it, and some very few parts of the melody I even like, but this is my least favourite Kirkorov produced, or written or bought or pushed through or whatever he does, song

(no. 33) Bulgaria: if everyone should find a similar partner then Bulgaria could team up with Romania this year. I find Bulgaria to be a lot more boring though

(no. 34) Cyprus: keep on running and keep on running and keep on running.. etc. etc. etc. this is how I feel when I make myself jog once a year 

(no. 35) Malta: sounds very familiar, but I haven’t figured out yet which generic pop song it reminds me of

(no. 36) Belgium: yet another year and I am sadly bored by Belgium’s entry yet again

🥀:

(no. 37) Czech Republic: to this song I imagine the scenario of a school mate, that you aren’t too close with, but he is friendly, so you listen to the songs he made himself and uploaded and then you assure him that it sounds cool and you will add it to your music collection, but then you don’t ever listen to it again. this never happened to me, but that’s the vibe somehow. it’s just not really my kind of song and it also misses a bit of a real concept and flow because, even after the revamp, to me it still sounds a bit unpolished

(no. 38) Serbia: nop. I am very much for wmn pwr but I don’t like this. I get very strong mean girls vibes from it and I don’t say this as a good thing because I would rather not get bullied. I despise the lyrics and overall, everything, but I see why one would call it a ‘bop’ perhaps

(no. 39) Russia: when they were announced I looked them up and already was skeptical. most of the time this simply isn’t my kind of genre, humour and taste, and I was right. it annoys me. I am sure, like with every song btw, there is an audience for this, but I am very far away from being that audience

(no. 40) Slovenia: I’m sorry, but I really don’t like her voice, which is not a good thing, obviously, when ranking songs. I also find the song quite boring and it is another example of songs that somehow feel longer than 3 mins

(no. 41) Latvia: this gives me a headache. I don’t understand the lyrics, the music makes me want to leave the room, it’s a no from me and my last place

[imaginesforyourfandom]

I want to win for you - Vivianne Miedema Imagine

(Y/N)’s POV

I sat feeling nervousness in me as I waited for the game between the Netherlands and Cameroon to start. I knew that Viv and them were going to win but I know anything could happen at this point and I do not think I could handle it if they don’t win. I don’t think Viv could take it if they don’t win.

“You need to relax” my friend said next to me. “With Viv and Lieke and all of them…there is no way they could lose.”

“You know I am sure that Australia felt the same way against Italy” I said feeling my heart jump when my eyes fell on Viv. They were getting ready to do the national anthem for the Netherlands. I know it always makes Viv feel emotional. I smiled watching her sing her heart out.

Afterwards, the players all shook hands and went about their usual kick off rituals. Once the whistle blew, my anxiety went through the roof. I watched girls pass around the ball and at this point I will have a heart attack before the game ends considering how my heart jumps every time Viv is even near the ball.

Viv and I met while she was living in Germany playing for Bayern. I had met her while there on a business trip. It was literally love at first sight. We kept things long distance while she was in Germany and then I moved to England when she went to Arsenal. We have been together ever since we first met and I couldn’t be happier.

It was around the 41st minute and I watched the ball get whipped into the box just as Viv was making a run. I watched the ball connect with her head and go into the back of the net. I started celebrating with the rest of the fans in the crowd and felt my heart swell at her scoring. I watched her teammates jump on her as she stood in her spot. The celebrations soon turned too disappointment as Cameroon equalized two minutes later. I could practically see it rolling off of Viv at having lost her lead.

During the second half, I was praying that someone would score preferably Viv. It didn’t take long as Bloodworth scored in the 48th minute giving the team back their lead. I jumped up and down out of happiness and excitement. My cheering continued as Viv scored again in the 85th minute off a great ball from Beerensteyn.

After the game was over, we left the stadium and made our way towards the hotel where the team would be staying. It wasn’t long before the team arrived. I smiled and congratulated the girls. I let out a laugh as I felt arms wrap around me and spin me around.

“Hey!” Viv exclaimed grinning at me. “Did you see my goals?”

“I did! You did amazing” I kissed her cheek and wrapped my own arms around her neck. She smiled at me and leaned in to give me a kiss.

“No no” Lieke exclaimed “not in the lobby”

I smiled at her and stepped away from Viv to give her a hug.

“Congrats”

“Thank you” she gave me a smile and I then felt Viv slip her hand into mine. “Now control this one”

I chuckled at Viv’s antics. She pulled me in a different direction towards the elevators. I tried to pull my hand away from the excited forward and she only tightened her grip.

“Hold my hand!” she exclaimed as she pulled me into one of the elevators.

“You’re going to dislocate my arm”

“That’s temporary” I rolled my eyes at her response and then stepped into her giving her a hug.

“I am really proud of you.” I mumbled into her ear. I rested my head on her shoulder after giving her a kiss on the jaw. She wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me. “I loved both goals. Although, that first one just proves to me how hardheaded you are”

She scoffed at my statement, “No. It was a great goal. I can’t believe I scored two. Can you believe I scored two?”

“I can. I’ve always believed in you”

She smiled at me resting her forehead against mine. She then grinned again grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the elevator towards her room.

“I am allowed to have you up here for an hour and I need cuddles and kisses before you have to go again.”

I followed her into the room and before I could do anything, she picked me up and laid me on the bed pulling me into her arms. For the next few minutes, we laid there talking about the game.

“I love you” she said after a moment of silence.

“I love you too”

“I scored for you by the way”

“You did?”

“Yeah”

“Why?”

“You’ve been my biggest supporter since we met. You followed me to England even when you didn’t have to. Everything I do in this world cup is for you. I want to win for you. I want to prove that I am the player that you think I am” I stared at her in shock not knowing that she felt that way.

“Viv baby you don’t have to prove anything to me. I will always believe in you. I love you so much” I leaned up and kissed her lips. She smiled at me slightly.

“I love you too.”

A/N: I hope this was good. I don’t know if I like how it turned out, but I hope it was what you were looking for anon. It’s also a lot shorter than I feel like it should’ve been so I am sorry for that.

[erikismybitch]

Waiting In Vain: Chapter 17

Happy Birthday Marley.

A man named Peter sat in the passenger side of the unmarked car . Waiting for the signal from his partner to go inside of the building . He got a peek at his hair in the rear view mirror. The straight red strand had somehow sprung free from the slick style that he always wore . That was unacceptable , Peter prided himself on perfection. He pushed it back using the spit from his hands . His phone buzzed with a signal , it was time to go .

He walked inside of the building , the side door that displayed “Steinway” bright and red right across from it . He spotted her , the girlfriend of his partner. Peter had forgotten her name , but he had seen so many pictures of her before . He thought she was pretty, but black girls weren’t his thing . He was from the Netherlands, there weren’t many where he came from . He walked fast, careful so she wouldn’t see his face. He bumped right into her . Hard enough so that she wouldn’t feel him snatching her work badge ID card off of her hip.

“Excuse you, fucking jackass!” He heard her shout from behind .

Without looking back, he made it out of the doors . And back into the unmarked car where his partner sped off down the street and into safety .

“Your girl , she has a fooking mouth on her” Peter mentioned how she had cursed him out when he bumped onto her . In his ever so prevalent accent.

“She don’t talk to me like that” he laughed, then looked behind him to make sure that no car had followed them. He was sure they were safe, they were very good at what they do. They reached a secluded area near the docks . Where Peters car awaited him. He hoped out quickly.

“Don’t be fucking late tonight. We fuck this up we good as dead” Erik shouted .

“You’re the one who has something to lose here, make sure yoou’re not late” Peter got inside of his car .... well, the burner car that he was using . Neither he or Erik used their actual cars, for what they were about to pull, they had to be smarter about things .

“Yeah, aight” he mumbled to himself, knowing Peter couldn’t hear him. He sped off anticipating tonight.

-

-

-

The Steinway company had been robbed . Secret files that contained the blueprints and all codes of their security systems were gone. With that Information in the wrong hands it could be detrimental. The company would lose millions of dollars . The protection of the banks were compromised. The governments systems could breach and be an open field for terrorism .

The owner of Steinway couldn’t figure out how the team he paid millions could let this slip under the cracks. He and the FBI agents sat in the conference room. They had watched the surveillance video of the two culprits. They were clearly male , but because their faces were covered their identities were unable to be exposed. One had a key card, at which he scanned to create access to the elevator. The card had belonged to an employee .

Marley

Who’s card didn’t give her access to the 12th floor. Which held what the two criminals needed. The men still reached the floor by tampering with the controls . That let the investigators know that they were dealing with professionals.

Marley was rushing like always and had just walked into the Steinway building . She fumbled through her brown neverfull bag and realized she didn’t have her badge . “Fuck!” She hissed . Her day was already starting off with a bad start . Marley had no idea what was in store .

“Mam step to the side please” Security used his hand signal to guide her away from the elevator.

“You know I work here” Marley gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. “You see me every morning, your Phil , you told me about your twins who just won a soccer championship” she went on , not understanding why he couldn’t just let her in. They were almost two of the only people of color that worked there, they talked daily.

“You know I know who you are. They just told me to bring you to twelve when you got here” he told her . Twelve is what they called the Twelfth floor . The floor she was told that unauthorized employees were not allowed to go.

“For losing my badge ?” she questioned , the security guard led her into the elevator. He waited until the doors shut before he spoke again.

“Nah , we got robbed” he told her.

“Fuck does that have to do with me? “ Marley face him a once over .

“I don’t know” his hands went up in defense. “Apparently they used your badge to get in and everything ”

Marley’s face washed with fear , she wanted to sink to the floor. The security knew she had nothing to do with it , or she was an giving an Oscar worthy performance. “I don’t know- I don’t know how they got it” she stuttered with her chest clutched.

“Tell them that”

The elevator doors opened , two burly white men with suits awaited Marley . The clear cords were connected to earbuds in their ears . They were taller than her , and intimidating . The silence made all of these thoughts run through Marley’s head . And none of them were good . She was instructed to follow them to a room. The Suits escorted her up to a seat. Right in the center of several people . A few that she had seen around the building, some sitting with FBI badges on their jackets and the company owner. Who looked at Marley as if he wanted to break her neck .

A badge member introduced himself and his peers . Then he informed Marley about the situation at hand . And exactly why they brought her up . Before she could defend herself , the agent asked her to watch the video .

The agent played the footage from yesterday. Her birthday . She saw herself in the lobby , getting bumped into by the man. The video paused and the agent pointed to the screen .

“Here is where he took your badge off your hip , you should have noticed” the owner voiced, with so much anger expressed in his voice.

“I don’t know who that guy is, or why he took my badge” Marley’s pulse was raging . “I swear to god , I had never seen that man before yesterday”

They said nothing yet , but they played the rest of the video . Marley was so confused . There were a few people with badges on, she didn’t understand why she was chosen . The agent turned the video off .

“Can you describe anything that you remember about the man that bumped in to you?” One of the agents questioned.

“Just that he was white with red hair , in a rush and had a tattoo of the Netherlands on his arm”

Marley watched as they wrote a few things down . “Which arm?” the same agent asked .

“I think it was his left”

“You think? And how could you see the flag that fast . I think she knows exactly who he was !” The owner stood from his seat .

“I don’t know him!” The tears were welting up . Marley was afraid that if she let them out , they would perceive her as guilty. The owner was asked to take a seat and allow the FBI to continue the investigation. Marley was not a major suspect and there was no way they could prove she knew the gentleman for now . After they asked her a few more questions , the agents left. Leaving Marley alone with the Owner and what she thought to be his female assistant.

“It is company policy to take off the badge before you enter lobby” He said. Marley knew this to be true, they reminded employees each day . But she never removed it , she was always too lazy . “For reasons like these . We have to let you go” he continued . Her heart dropped. Let me go?

“But I see people with badges on all the time . Somebody in the video had on a badge !” she pointed to the screen trying to defend herself. The owner wanted no part of it . His tone was as condescending as he was arrogant.

“But theirs didn’t get taken...did it?”

His assistant coughed loudly , her underlying way of signaling him to stop while he was he ahead .

“I made a mistake that everybody does, and you want to fire me for it ?”

“It doesn’t ma-” He tried to speak again but Marley interrupted him.

“We have proof that I wasn’t the only person wearing a badge that moment. I’ll fight this in court” she bluffed , like she saw in movies. Marley knew she couldn’t afford a lawyer . It just sounded good . The owner had probable cause to let her go , but not in this way. She knew that this was wrong.

The owner and his assistant whispererd a few things to eachother . His tone was much calmer when she spoke again .

“Three months severance pay if you leave”

Marley pretended to hide the shock in her face. She didn’t think it would actually work .

“Four months and if my next job calls. I was laid off not fired “

The owner agreed and let Marley know that Human Resources would contact her later . She was instructed to clear her desk and leave the building . In doing that , it seemed like the news of her “involvement” with the robbery had spread throughout the company . Everybody was watching her . It was like the situation with Tiana all over again. Marley had literally walked in to work with hopes of having a good day , and within a matter of seconds her day had spun out of control.

She got inside of her car and let out a much needed scream . She had actually liked this job . She saw longevity in the company , and even had hopes of one day moving up . Now, she was back at square one . Severance pay would only last so long , she would probably have to pick up extra shifts at the bar .

She called Erik, and as soon as he heard the hollowness in her voice , he was there to save her . Marley went straight to his home . Where he let her in with open arms. He offered her food , she wasn’t hungry . Maybe they could watch a movie , but Marley wasn’t interested. She just wanted to lay in Erik’s bed and reflect . And maybe take a nap of the braid permitted .

She felt his bed move , looking down she could see his bare back . Stretching her legs, she rubbed her toes along his spine . “Feeling better?” He asked her , she could tell he was looking at his phone .

“Not really , I feel kind of lost”

“Huh?”

“I made a small mistake, that turned into something massive. It was out of my control and yet they still treated me like it was my fault”

Erik’s phone rang and interrupted her , he denied the call and laid on his back . He was eye level to Marley’s legs . So he rubbed on them .

“It’s other jobs, Mar”

“Where’s the compassion” she screwed get face, he chuckled .

“I’m just saying”

“You saying what though , Erik?” She brought her legs up to her chest , so he could stop . But Erik snatched them back down .

“Chill out”

“Chill, do you know how humiliating it was? They even had security escort me out” she sat up and rested along his black wooden headboard . “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Let me take care of you”

Marley had only asked that question generally. She didn’t expect Erik to generate an answer , especially one like that .

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself”

Erik turned his body so he could face her completely. He looked up at her face . “You really don’t have to, I got you”

“I thought you liked the fact that I did things on my own and worked hard”

“I did , but things change”

Marley gave a long drawn out breath. “This sounds all good now , but what if we don’t work out . What would I do then ?”

His phone rang again, so he didn’t respond to her . The name flashing on the screen caught Marley’s attention. He denied the call again.

“Who is Rain ?” Marley asked . They could continue their previous conversation later . “Why won’t you answer the phone ?”

“Rain is my sister”

Marley’s eyes went round . “You have a sister?”

“And a mom”

Erik said as if it was normal . And since he didn’t make a big deal out of this , Marley held in what she really wanted to say . From what she knew , Erik didn’t even have a family.

Maybe he was ready to talk about it .

“My sisters name is Rain and my mothers name is Ruby....” he started . Marley was all ears . She let him rant , even if it wasn’t about anything , she let him talk . He told her a little about where he came from , and how he grew up. And how he hadn’t spoken to them in a long time . He and his sister were close . Being the bigger person, he reached out to them and now they were trying to build their relationship back . Erik and his mother got into a big argument and his sister sided with his mother. Apparently it was something so serious , that cutting ties was a mutual decision.

“What was the argument about” Marley asked softly . She really wanted to know . Marley could never see herself never speaking to her mother if she was alive .

“Something I did” he said it as if that was it . With no real explanation.

“Erik ? “

He closed his eyes and shook his head , the clenching of his jaw told her that he wasn’t ready to answer that question .

“Your dad , what about him”

“He’s dead , died a while back “

“I’m sorry “

“We had more bad times than good , my dad and I...So don’t be sorry”

He got off of the bed and walked away . She could see him in the kitchen, he reached in the freezer and grabbed a bottle of of something . He poured some in a glass . Marley figured it was alcohol. He took a gulp and groaned.

“That’s good your talking to them” Marley spoke loudly so he could hear her from the other side .

“I missed them”

It was silent. Marley though that Erik had shared enough , it was good though . Progress , since she had told him about every aspect of her life . Except for Trey , she didn’t bring him up much . Erik didn’t like talking about exes . He hadn’t told Marley about any of his, which didn’t bother her much either .

“Erik?” She called out . He didn’t say anything so she yelled his name again. “Erik!”

“I love you too”

“I-” Marlet realized that it was his first tune actually saying it back to her . She had forgotten the real reason she called him . She was glad he was in the other room , so he couldn’t see the big dorky smile plastered across her face .

“You what?”

“I’m about to take a nap” was the only response she could think of quickly. She covered her body in his blankets . Thankfully, that made her feel so much better .

——

[scarletgardensrpg]

LIVING ♦ TWENTY ♦ NEUTRAL

MAURICE-ALEXANDER VAN ORANJE-NASSAU is the Royal Prince of the Netherlands, who has recently returned to Amsterdam following the discovery of he and his sister, Luana, in southern France. Although an heir to the Dutch throne was named in the late Queen Catharina’s will, he and Luana have so far refused to disclose this information, both publicly and privately. Although he is a beloved public figure like his sister, Maurice is more reserved, disliking the attention. He has recently received permission from Agostina to live part-time in The Hague.

BIOGRAPHY

They’d only ever really fought once: Luana, white-faced at the foot of a marble staircase, the front of her thousand-dollar dress smeared with cake, a lavender party hat crushed in her small palm—and Maurice, standing five steps above her with dark eyes and a scowling, mean mouth. In the empty, vast hall, he and Luana had glared at one another, the frigid silence echoing, before Luana spoke at last. Her voice was high, arrogant, accusatory: Mijn broer is een beest. Years later, by a seashore in southern France at the end of the world, they would laugh about it—what a stupid thing to have divided them for an afternoon, when now they had only each other. At the beach, Maurice massaged Lu’s head until she fell asleep, sparkling grains of sand still in her wet lashes. Those same hands had broken skin, splintered bone just hours before: without remorse, with pleasure. He turned the phrase over and over in his head like a well-worn coin. My brother is a beast.

- ❀ -

They tumbled into the world one after another: a girl, who wore cascades of sunshine atop her head in perfect curls, then a boy, silver-eyed and fox-faced, luminescent as the moon. These became their pet names among the royal maids and wet-nurses, the chauffeurs and visiting diplomats; zon-je, maan-je. At Christmas, Minister van Buskirk had placed a warm hand atop both theirs and smiled at Queen Catharina with familial tenderness: They are so lovely. And, perhaps, they really once were: twin dolls of the Dutch crown adorned in lace and jewels, running along open courtyards, laughing together by sparkling waterfronts—Luana the wild, Maurice the clever. They looked alike, but were distinguishable by their temperaments: where his sister socialized with ease and shone brightest standing in the center of a ballroom, Maurice longed for quiet—and where she was a rare blooming rose, he couldn’t help but feel like the thorns which covered her. Indeed, he made for a handsome, yet arrogant, little prince: standoffish to all but his twin sister, solitary and bellicose, as precocious and regal as he was boyishly bratty. 

In another world, he might’ve outgrown this hardness; he might’ve swept into adolescence with carefree contentment, learned not to bristle so much, had more than just Generaal de Jaager’s delinquent son for a friend, and ascended the throne with true kingly grace. You’d be a good leader, Gabriël always insisted, half-serious and half-laughing. I’d be good, for once. For a king like you. In another world, they might have really both been good. He could think of no other thing but this, shivering in the back of a black-clad woman’s car covered in his mother’s blood. He thought of it still, standing ankle-deep in the wet sand of the Mediterranean, watching Cecile shake hands, watching Luana sob, watching Dimitri’s pitiless gaze glance disinterestedly off him, and settle instead on Blue, who merely cocked her head and, at last, gave a shrug. Show the little ones to their new home, then. I haven’t got the time to. In another world, I am kissing Luana on the nose at our birthday party, Maurice thought to himself, but that life was already fading from his memory, buried under twenty-eight bodies and a dead lineage. In another world, I am feeding her cake and complimenting her dress and I am not so cruel.

But then again, maybe Maurice had always been destined to turn into what he did: a moon-child in love with the solitary night, hardness cracking and giving out to even more hardness, one nightmarish day after another no longer inciting fear, but curiosity. Call it a morbid longing, call it a refusal to spend five years shackled to terror. Was he not a prince? He, somewhere along the way, had become entranced by them: the black-eyed children of Cecile, so lovingly nicknamed bloodhounds. In a single safehouse, how did power fall so totally into the hands of the dead? The way Dimitri and Blue brawled with teeth and knives, the way Jacques could not be put at ease without some carnage to appease his appetite, their unapologetic adoration for their Mother of Death: Luana loathed to see it, but Maurice found himself drawn to their chaos like a moth to flame. What was a lonely boy-king to three gods of the New World? Maurice would work at tamping down his want, his need, to follow them like a pupil, years and years after they left. He could not leave Luana, of course, but Maurice also knew, with unspoken, slow-falling surety: to chase after the dead into the dark was to begin down an irreversible, treacherous path. And yet, some smoky, coiling voice whispered, like a hand around the throat. Which man can deny his heart forever?

CONNECTIONS

LUANA – ANOTHER WORLD. Beautiful Lu, whose name means lion, means happy, could never understand him. But he understands her, and he loves her—isn’t that enough? God, he hopes so. They have been joined at the hip since birth: two darling halves of a whole, each one with the secret keys to a lost kingdom. In youth, he had found her conceit so irritating, her shrieky charm so gauche—but seeing her now, a girl of only twenty who walks the halls of the Royal Palace burdened by the haunting of a hundred ghosts and battered by unspeakable heartbreak, he’d do anything to have his obnoxious, wonderful sister back for just a day. Once, she had been the one protecting Maurice: sheltering him with her great galloping laugh, her bright eyes, daring anyone to speak an ill word of him—so that now, he feels he must return the favor. A great, terrible secret of inheritance sits between them, and Maurice understands it is this single secret that will define whether they survive together in the New World or not. As far as Maurice is concerned, they will. They must. He’ll do whatever it takes.

DIMITRI – VIOLENT DELIGHTS. Boys will be boys, and beasts will be beasts. It’s strange to think that Maurice came of age in the company of wolves—and even stranger still that, at thirteen, he had stumbled into their lands so fearful and angry, only to be forced out five years later with an empty, wanting heart. Luana hates them all, but Maurice finds he can’t fully share in her opinion—particularly when it comes to Dimitri. There’s something mean-spirited to Blue and something grotesque about Jacques’ brand of violence; Dimitri, on the other hand, has always been able to wear bloodsport so well. He’s as refined as he is barbaric, as caustic as he is charismatic: and if anyone could embody the alluring dark, it would certainly be him. In Nice, Cecile’s bloodhounds had all largely ignored he and Luana, too preoccupied with each other or whatever errands they were sent on by Cecile. Nonetheless, Maurice had watched him: his manner of walking, the smooth cadence of his voice, every elegant arrangement of his handsome features—and unconsciously, learned to emulate him. Since his return to Amsterdam, they’ve crossed paths once more; and if Dimitri wasn’t looking before, he’s looking now. It’s too soon to say what they are, now, only that he no longer looks to Maurice with cool disinterest—and instead, is beckoning him forward into a dark, dark world.

GABRIËL – IF WE’D ONLY LAY DOWN OUR WEAPONS. His was the first face Maurice looked for, amidst the thousands who had come to greet the van Oranje-Nassaus: a sea of the living braced against the golden shores to watch the ship dock, hands outstretched, eyes brimming with glad tears—and there, beside Thalia: Generaal Gabriël, whose beautiful face betrayed no more feeling than that of a marble statue. When they were children, they had spent time together—more time than Maurice cares to admit, hours and hours reading beneath the trees and boating on the lake, sneaking away, exchanging secrets, all of it culminating in a kiss, or two, or three—but of course, he was Luana’s in the end. All lovely things were. Maurice isn’t completely sold on the convenient narrative Agostina tells of who is responsible for the massacre—but Gabriël’s partial involvement is, to Maurice, undeniable. He and Luana had both seen it: the exchange with PYTHIA, the handshake and head nod, the words spoken like a curse from Gabriël’s lips: Red de kinderen. Dood de rest. Luana may not have it in herself to exact vengeance—but Maurice, who has always been the worser of the two, certainly can. So blind he is with bitterness, that he can’t seem to see beyond it—if he were to look a little closer, he might find Gabriël isn’t the enemy he’s made him out to be.

OPEN ♦ FC: OTTO SEPPÄLÄINEN

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 48

amazing moodboard courtesy of @kindaresilient!

read chapter one

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Alec looks over as the door to his dressing room opens, smiling as his boyfriend pokes his head in.

“Hey, you,” Magnus says as he kicks the door closed.

“Hey, yourself. How are things out there?”

Setting his drink down on the vanity, Alec hears the tinkling of ice against the glass as Magnus wraps his arms around his neck from behind. Leaning down until their cheeks brush, he turns his head a little so that he can lay a kiss over Alec’s jaw.

“Last I saw, the crowd had started spontaneously singing one of your songs. Chocolate Raspberry, I think?”

Alec smiles a little, just a tilt of his mouth that betrays his endless relief and gratitude. “I always love when they do that.”

“It gave me chills,” Magnus agrees. “Thousands of people singing something you wrote acapella is a little eerie.”

“You never get used to it,” Alec says softly and there’s something there, behind the words, lingering in the undertones so that he’s not surprised when he sees Magnus’s eyes sharpen in the mirror.

“And how are things in here, Alexander?”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead taking the time to look at the image the two of them present in the vanity’s mirror. So close they’re touching, Magnus’s hair tickling his ear, his boyfriend wrapped around him with a warmth that makes him shiver.

His mouth upturns slowly until he’s grinning, until his eyes crinkle at the corners in a hint of the laugh lines that will start forming in just a few years.

“We’re pretty damn good, babe.”

He’s gratified to hear Magnus snort out a laugh as his arms tighten around Alec’s neck.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, darling. I was a little worried.”

Shrugging a little, Alec swivels his chair around until he’s facing Magnus, bringing him in until he’s between spread thighs. With fingers hooked into his belt loops, Alec tugs him closer.

“I’m always a little sentimental before my first show of the tour. It never gets old, you know? Sorry if I worried you.”

Magnus waves that away with a quiet smile. He reaches out a hand, sweeps a thumb over Alec’s cheek before cupping his face. “No need to apologize, I assure you. I’m just happy to see that you don’t appear to suffer from stage fright.”

Alec laughs. “No, I’ve never really been one to get nervous in front of crowds-- and good thing too. I had my meet and greet and soundcheck a couple of hours ago and everyone was friendly and excited. It helped temper any nerves that may have cropped up anyway. No, I was just thinking about the past year-- the past decade since my career took off.”

“Good things I hope?”

“The very best,” Alec assures him. His gaze drops down to the mostly undone buttons of Magnus’s shirt, to the bare skin visible between silk. He raises a brow as he laughs to himself.

“Did you know that I’ve ripped my pants on stage before? And I fell once-- well, twice,” Alec corrects with a grimace. “It was raining and the stage was slick as hell. My ass was bruised for a week.”

“Poor Alec,” Magnus drawls, reaching out with his other hand to rest against his chest. “However did you recover?”

Alec just sends him a droll look. “I laughed it off and hobbled over to the mic stand. I stayed in the same spot pretty much the entire concert. Walking hurt too much.”

“At least it’s sunny today, not a cloud in the sky.”

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “But that just means it’s a hundred degrees and when the stage lights go up, it’s going to feel like I’m boiling.”

“It is summer in New York, darling.”

Huffing out a laugh, Alec just replies, “Hazards of the job, I suppose.”

Silence falls over them and while Alec can hear the shout of his techs out in the hallway, in his dressing room it’s a goddamn oasis of tranquility. While Alec was always more than willing to help out-- he was a very small piece of the performance, after all, even if he was the most visible-- he was usually left alone before the concert to get ready, relax, have a drink with some friends.

It leaves a lot of room to think.

They’ve been skirting the topic for ages, it seems. It’s been almost two months since his album dropped back in June and Alec had watched as the start date for his tour grew closer and closer with anticipation and dread.

Tonight was a home show in New York to kick off his tour. The first date of over a hundred. The first night in a long line that wouldn’t wrap up for over six months.

As Alec looks up and meets Magnus’s eyes, he sees that knowledge there, the grim reality.

“So,” Alec starts, tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip. “Tonight’s the night, huh?”

Magnus smiles though it doesn’t quite manage to reach his eyes. “It is and I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

Alec relaxes in his seat a little before he reaches up and grabs Magnus’s hands, intertwining their fingers. He squeezes a little before tugging Magnus closer until he gets the hint and straddles him.

Raising their hands up to his lips, he kisses the back of Magnus’s hands. “How are you feeling,” Alec asks and he tenses a little as he waits for an honest answer.

Magnus hums a little and this time when he smiles, it’s real even if it’s a little wan. “While I’m looking forward to seeing you perform, I’ll admit it’s a little bittersweet.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes, tightening his hands on Magnus’s hips. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

Magnus’s hands go into his hair, careful not to muss too much, as he says, “There’s always texting and face time and who knows,” he teases, “Maybe I’ll even be able to visit you for a few dates during the fall semester.”

“I’m in Amsterdam and Germany during Columbia’s fall break,” Alec replies immediately and his grin turns smug as his boyfriend just stares at him. “What,” he asks coyly. “So I did a little research when I got the finalized itinerary.”

Magnus shakes his head a little, bemused, before tilting his face up with a finger under his chin. He leans down and kisses Alec and he breathes easier at the gesture.

“Well, then,” he says softly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Berlin and the Netherlands.”

He leans down a little more and Alec’s eyes sweep shut as their foreheads touch. They breathe each other in and distantly, Alec knows that he has to start getting ready in earnest for his show but he’s loathe to do anything that will take him away from Magnus. This is the first of three nights in New York City and he wants to steal every second he can with his boyfriend.

It feels like grains of sand, golden and all too fleeting, are falling through his fingers and he knows it's only a few months but that doesn't make the prospect of going weeks and months without being with Magnus any easier. He's trying to hold onto as many grains-- as many seconds and minutes and memories-- as he can before his tour bus rolls out of the city in a few days.

Never enough, he thinks. He could have an eternity with Magnus and it would never be enough.

His nose wrinkles when he feels Magnus brush it with his own, pulling him away from his thoughts. Easing away the tiniest bit, Alec opens his eyes to stare up at his boyfriend.

He sees bright eyes and artfully done makeup. He sees intelligence and wit and so much warmth that it reaches out, wraps around Alec’s bones until he figures he’ll never be cold again.

He sees his life, so much different than it was a few years ago. The tour is bigger, the stakes always higher. The man in front of him is his solace, though, his eye of the storm.

Magnus is everything to Alec and his chest cracks open at the knowledge.

His breath fractures and Alec’s mouth kicks up. “I’ve never done this before, you know.”

Making some noise of confusion, Magnus strokes along the back of Alec’s neck with a raised brow.

“I’m notorious for tour being no strings attached.”

“Yes, I’d heard,” Magnus replies dryly.

Glaring without heat, Alec runs his hands down Magnus’s thighs. “I just want to be sure that you know this is a first for me, too. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” Looking up, his smile is small and barely there when he asks, “Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

Magnus is quiet for a moment and Alec sees something shift in his expression, too quick for him to pin down, before it settles into humor. “I’ll make you a deal,” his boyfriend says lowly. “I won’t forget about you as long as you don’t forget about me.”

“Not a chance in hell, Magnus. I couldn’t forget about you if I tried.” His voice drops to a whisper as he adds, “You’re it for me, babe.”

Tension ratchets up, a heady promise. Before their lips can connect-- before they can say another word-- the door to the dressing room is flying open and Lydia’s walking in, phone to her ear as she scowls at the two of them.

Magnus climbs off Alec and he shakes his head, laughing to himself as Alec lets him go but not without sweeping a hand over his ass. Magnus sends him a wry look he pretends not to catch.

Lydia hangs up and shoves her phone in to her pocket before giving both of them a once over. “How are you feeling Alec? It’s forty five minutes to show time.”

Alec’s reply is easy as he answers, “Never been better,” with a surreptitious wink in Magnus’s direction.

It’s Lydia who rolls her eyes but she only maintains her stern look for a few seconds before she eases into a grin. She walks over to him, spins him around until he’s facing the vanity mirror once again. The lights are bright as she slaps her hands on top of his shoulders and meets his eyes through the glass.

“Ready for another go around the block?”

Alec grins. “You know it.”

Lydia laughs, patting his shoulder a few times before stepping back. “Get ready then,” she scolds goodnaturedly. “Simon’s killing it out there and the crowd is definitely ready for you.”

She leaves just a few moments later, waving at Magnus on her way out.

Alec looks up, meets Magnus’s eyes. “What were your plans until the concert started?”

“Why,” Magnus asks, standing from where he’d been relaxing on the couch.

Arching a brow, Alec reaches for the eyeliner. When he waves it, there’s a challenge heating his eyes. “Thought you might want to make yourself useful.”

Magnus laughs as he takes the few strides over to the vanity. He plucks the eyeliner out of Alec’s hand before flicking him on the shoulder. “Oh,” he asks idly. “I thought you had people for that?”

Shrugging a little, Alec nudges Magnus’s shoe with his own as his chair is spun around yet again. “If I feel like makeup, I usually do it. I already have a wardrobe designer on tour. No need for a makeup artist too whenever the most I ever do is, like, eyeliner.”

“Well, then,” Magnus says archly. “Say no more, darling.”

The next few minutes pass silently. Alec’s breath catches in his chest as Magnus leans close, as he follows murmured directions to close his eyes. His breath shudders out and Alec smells the whiskey on Magnus’s breath and he laughs a little, stills almost immediately after hushed orders not to mess up his boyfriend’s work.

Magnus pulls back but Alec still doesn’t open his eyes. Instead, he sighs as he feels Magnus’s hand sweep over a brow and down his cheek.

“Beautiful,” Magnus whispers and when Alec opens his eyes it’s to see his boyfriend leveling him with a stare, intent.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Alec demurs and then he’s laughing out loud as Magnus harrumphs, as he shoves playfully at his shoulder.

Someone knocks on the door and it’s the costume designer with his outfit for the night. Magnus acknowledges her and then his train of thought’s lost as Magnus pulls him in for a smacking kiss before grabbing the glass he’d left on the vanity and starting toward the door.

Looking over his shoulder, Magnus says, “I’ll let you get changed in peace. See you later.”

Alec nods back and then the costume designer’s closing the door and motioning for Alec to undress while she unzips the garment bag.

Alec rakes a critical gaze over the finished suit and he’s pleased with the result. It was linen and the button down that accompanied it was almost see-through, easily breathable for whenever the stage inevitably grew too warm.

The turquoise tone is warm against his skin and, deciding to take a page out of his boyfriend’s book, Alec leaves a few buttons undone.

After making sure all’s well, the designer leaves and Alec’s left alone. He only has fifteen minutes or so before it’s time to take his place and mic up and Alec breathes deep in the quiet of his dressing room.

Leaning down until he rests flat palms against the counter, Alec leans close to the mirror, stares into his own kohl-rimmed eyes, runs his gaze over a perfect complexion thanks to stage makeup and last night’s face mask.

He’s twenty seven and at the top of his game. His tour is sold out-- every date, every venue. There’s fifteen thousand people waiting just outside these doors to see him, to hear his music, to have a night that they’ll always remember.

It’s heady and overwhelming in the best goddamn way.

He smiles a little, tracks the shift of expression in the mirror. He’s done this a thousand times and if he has anything to say about it, he will a thousand more. Magnus is his constant and even if he’s in a different city every night, he hopes he can be the same for his boyfriend.

“Let’s do this,” he says under his breath.

Turning, Alec’s left his dressing room and is just about to make the final turn to where the stage is when someone wraps a hand around his arm. Alec looks over his shoulder, expecting a tech with panic in their eyes from an impending disaster that’s always in the periphery of tour. Instead, he sees a man that fills his mouth with a sour taste.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Alec hisses before wrenching his arm free.

Jordan raises his hands in an appeasing move. “There was a time I was on the standing invitation list.”

“Yeah, well, those days are over,” Alec snaps back. “How the fuck did you get through security?”

“I have my ways,” Jordan replies slyly but when Alec doesn’t say anything, just stares at him without flinching, the man begrudgingly adds, “I may have bribed Raj.”

“Fucking Raj.” Alec curses viciously under his breath before glaring at Jordan. “You need to leave.”

Jordan ignores the threat in Alec’s eyes. He moves closer until he’s just in front of Alec and Alec’s gut twists at the lascivious once over he’s treated to.

“We had some great times last tour, Alec. I didn’t think it was out of the question to think we might have a few more this time around.”

“You thought wrong,” Alec grits out.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before Jordan reaches out, trailing a finger over his open shirt. The bastard has a spare second to dip below the linen before Alec snatches his hand, tightening his fist around it.

“In case you’ve been living under a rock, I’m taken.” Alec’s voice is low, feels forced from his throat.

To his frustration, Jordan doesn’t back off, just smiles and it’s smarmy. Alec’s left feeling distinctly unclean at the fact that he let the man anywhere near him once upon a time. Exasperated, he reflects that he’d had no idea Jordan would take his ignoring his calls so ill-mannerly.

“You were always up for a good time, Lightwood. Don’t tell me that’s changed now.”

Alec smiles but it’s cold. “Oh no, I’m still always up for a good time. It’s just that now I have my fun with my boyfriend. Magnus.”

Jordan’s stare is incredulous when it lands on him, when it lifts from his chest. “You can’t really expect me to believe that, can you? Alec Lightwood’s, what? You’re monogamous now? A one man kind of guy? I call bullshit. There’s no way-- especially when you have tour about to start.”

“I don’t give a good goddamn what you think, Jordan. All you need to know is the last time we fucked, it was the last. I don’t cheat and I don’t lie. Now I suggest you leave before I really get angry.”

Alec twists his hand, and he’s gratified to hear Jordan’s little grunt of pain before he’s moving smoothly back, just in time for security to come barreling up to him. With a curt nod, Alec lets them have Jordan, who’s cursing him as he’s taken to the exit.

“Hawkblue,” Alec calls out, not looking back to his Head of Security.

“Yes, boss?”

“Raj won’t be here when I get to the venue tomorrow. Got it?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jessica’s answers smoothly. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Alec’s mouth twists in a wry grin and as he looks down at his watch, he curses as he sees there’s only five minutes until the concert starts. Right on time, the lights outside in the audience go out and the shrieks are almost enough to make his ears bleed.

God, he loves it.

Turning on his heel, Alec’s just set to hurry to get his mic and earpieces. He stumbles to a stop when he sees the person casually leaning against the wall, arm crossed, watching him silently.

“Magnus,” Alec greets. He wracks his brain for any hint of when his boyfriend might have joined the scene. “What’s up?”

He watches as Magnus’s mouth kicks up before he’s straightening. When Alec reaches him, Magnus still hasn’t said anything and then he’s grabbing Alec by the lapels and pulling him close for a searing kiss that launches Alec’s brain offline.

When Magnus ends the kiss, they’re both breathing hard and Magnus is grinning when he says, “I like this suit, darling.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes in the space between their mouths.

“Oh yeah,” Magnus echoes and then he’s pulling Alec in for a lingering kiss that’s twice as intent as the first. “Break a leg.”

And then Magnus is shoving him away, towards the stage. On the clock visible behind the stage, Alec sees he has two minutes to mic up and he’s cursing and laughing as he turns to the sound tech that’s waiting impatiently at the edge of the stage.

“Alexander.”

Alec takes the mic pack as he looks over his shoulder to see Magnus studying him intently.

“Yeah, babe,” Alec asks when the silence stretches between them.

Magnus’s grin is wicked, a little sharp, as he merely offers, “I like you taken.”

It takes Alec a second to place the words and when he does, his eyes widen before he’s grimacing. He takes a sharper look at Magnus but his boyfriend looks perfectly unperturbed. Deciding to trust his gut, Alec shoots back, “Then it's a good thing that I like being taken.”

Magnus’s expression lightens and then they’re both laughing and Alec swears that if he wasn’t about to walk out on stage in front of thousands of people that he’d haul Magnus close and never let go.

He sees the rueful acknowledgement in Magnus’s eyes and then the crowd just yards away is absolutely losing their minds as the timer on stage starts blinking a row of zeroes.

Showtime.

Alec shoves his earpieces in and strides out to his mark. Everything falls away except the chants of the crowd, their screams, their love and support and fury that never stops making his chest ache under the onslaught.

The opening notes to his latest single starts and Alec picks up the mic and hits his cue dead on.

The lights come up, bathing him in warm golds and blues. He can only see the first few rows from his vantage point and as he nears the edge of the stage he looks down into the grinning faces of his family as they sing along to his music in the front row.

The crowd is an echoing cry and he sees countless phone lights in a veritable sea of fans. He pulls the mic away from his face at the last chorus and it’s only a little bit to catch his breath.

He’s stunned but unsurprised when the crowd fills the stadium, singing his words back to him, following his melody until it feels like the venue will collapse under the weight of it all.

Alec feels on top of the world and when he turns his face away from the crowd and looks to the side of the stage, he sees Magnus singing along, too, and his heart feels fit enough to burst inside his chest.

He wonders how a body’s meant to contain it all. He feels happy and full and like every damn dream he’s ever had has come true.

He smiles at Magnus, nods in a gesture that he knows is arrogant and cocksure but he just can’t help himself.

Magnus laughs and dances a little in his place and Alec swallows hard as he turns to look back at the blinding crowd.

He’s on top of the world and there’s not a fucking thing he’d change about it all.

Every failure, every nerve-wracking bit of doubt has brought him here and it coalesces in Alec’s chest, makes him shudder on the pedestal that he’s by turns resented and yearned for since the start. He’s luckier than most, Alec reflects, and he still has his whole life ahead of him.

With Magnus at his side, Alec knows anything’s possible.

As he brings his mic back up, as the song transitions into what will be his next single in the fall-- and hadn’t that music video with Magnus been a blast to film-- Alec lets it wrap around him, gives himself up to the feelings crashing through him.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations NICO! You’ve been accepted as KERBEROS.

Nico, Luca is a character very much integral to the chaos that goes on here in Chicago, and you brought her to life! I love the motivation you gave her, how she’s set out to prove everyone right, since she can’t seem to prove them wrong. You dug into her background as more than just a mutant and used that to further her identity as a person and her motivations that carry through to current day. Also #justiceforMaddie. I can’t wait to see what hell you and Luca cause on the dash!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Nico

PRONOUNS: they/them

AGE: 27

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT+1, I think Kay can now vouch for me, I write like a robot and I will be online every day.

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Kerberos - Luca Mendoza

GENDER/PRONOUNS: female, she/her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Luca is intensity. She will burn with fire and create chaos because all her life she has tried to fight what people thought of her just because of her heritage, and then tried to not become what they wanted her to become as a mutant. But with everything that was happening, she knew she should let go. Let it all go and be exactly that which they wished of her: a monster. A creature who fought and stole and cussed and bled, all because of expectations.

BIO:

Tw: discrimination

Growing up in a small almost rural town in the south of the Netherlands, Luca was supposed to grow up with all the liberties of a socialist capitalist state. Health care was taken care of, education was cheap enough to be affordable, and the people were liberal. But she wasn’t sure when, but very early on in life, Luca learned that despite how much a country said it was ‘good’, there would always be misunderstanding towards certain social minorities. She called it Historical Opinions, based on a misunderstanding of the Romani people that outdated most of the people in her surroundings, yet continued to follow her. Luca learned it through the word ‘tokkie’, which was supposed to be a bad name for anyone growing up in the trailer parks at the edge of cities. She came to accept the term without being able to fully grasp its meaning. No matter where she went, or who she was with, once anyone found out where her family lived, she was a ‘tokkie’. It became a term that followed her through all of her childhood. She remembered so many of the moments vividly.

She understood and was angry at this image of her family and everyone who lived in the twenty trailers around her. Luca tried not to think about it too much, but she saw it in every layer of her life. She played soccer, her hair tightly put into a bum, she was aggressive, according to her coaches. She went to school, and despite how smart and self-aware she was, her teachers didn’t want her to be held apart from her friends, her ‘own kind’ thus put her always together with them, even if they were louder and more present than the other kids.

Her mother would comb her hair at night, and do her nails. Her father would sit on the couch in front of the tv, watching a soccer match while his fifth beer of the day disappeared in one big gulp. Someone once tried to explain to her that lower-income families were often forced into these kinds of situations. The situations the person meant was her family always having to buy their clothing at Zeeman, the cheapest store in the city. How their food was often from the MacDonalds because it was cheaper than a home-cooked meal, and how she would, one way or another, end up exactly like everyone else in the trailer park, because they would never get the chance to prove themselves.

Luca wasn’t sad about this future, instead; she was angry. If she was with her family or her friends, nobody took her seriously. They thought she would steal from them, or cuss, or fight. They had expectations that she never even fulfilled. So she became fascinated with the history of her people, she wanted to know why and where these expectations came from. She knew they weren’t true. Her mother never cussed, her father never fought, her brother never stole. But that did not bring down the rumors. The people who walked by the trailer park either stared or they looked away because the sight of these ‘low-income’ people was too much for them to bear.

To her luck, unknowingly, the Netherlands was a fairly liberal country when it came to Mutant laws as well. For the time being at least. Luca grew up slightly oblivious to these kinds of problems because they either never made the news, or they were not made a big deal of. The government decided to keep it mostly under wraps, to say as little as possible, and offer ‘help’ to the mutants that were discovered. Luca was unaware of her own power, because she had never faced off against anyone with actual powers. Or so she thought.

Her first encounter with her own ability was a strange sensation, and it didn’t really start where normal mutant abilities started.

Her name was Madeleine, everyone called her Maddie. She was gorgeous. And by third year of high school, Luca knew she loved girls. Madeleine was exceptional: she played soccer too, but in a different team, she had the lower body of a goddess, and always wore large jumpers that weren’t flattering. But her long blonde hair curled like crazy, and her blue eyes were always smiling. When Luca fell, she fell hard.

It was during research for her project on Romani people during the Second World War - she was by then known as the ‘Romani research girl’ - that Madeleine sat opposite of her, researching her own thing. She was smiling again, and Luca tried not to blush with the extra attention. Suddenly the girl suggested for the two of them to go to the loo together. It was an odd request. But Maddie had a secret, one she only wished to share with someone who didn’t know her. One she only wished to share with someone who knew what it was like to be the odd one out.

She could breathe fire.

Two months later, and so could Luca. But only when they were close together, and the way things were going, Luca and Maddie were very close very often. They didn’t know any other powered people, however, so despite how badly Maddie wanted to find out what more Luca could do, there really was no way.

Life was great for a while, as Luca grew older, and Maddie stayed at her side, loyal. Her soccer-playing, jumper-wearing disaster wife. She could ignore the words people threw at her for her family history all the more easier when she was walking hand in hand through the school with Maddie.

Then one day, Maddie didn’t come to school anymore.

She was not the first to disappear, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. At first people just thought healthy, soccer-playing, jumper-wearing Maddie was ill. But after a week, Luca began to worry. Finally not even the news nor the government could ignore the disappearances. As Luca was crying on the couch, just shy of her eighteenth birthday, the liberal stance of the Netherlands towards the testing and prosecution of Mutants fell. And with it, Luca’s last hope of being reunited with Maddie.

She held on for a little longer, bitter, scared, angry. Her family felt her distance and tried everything they could to pull her back. But they knew too, they had always known. Her brother was taken first. He had managed to keep it a secret from her, but not her parents, that he could breathe underwater. She wondered if there was any significance about these two individuals so close to her both having something that involved breathing as her mother came into her room and told her to pack her stuff. She was angry at first, raging that she didn’t want to go, that this was unfair, that people shouldn’t think she was something just because she had a power nobody wished to understand. But eventually she gave in.

She moved around for years. For the first time understanding, after having dived so deep into the history of her people, what it must’ve been like for them. Not completely, she could never, she hadn’t lived through most of what they had lived through. But she too had to avoid major cities, she too knew that she wouldn’t be accepted as a full human, she knew the shame she would feel if she connected to anyone and brought them trouble. Her mind spun during those years. Sometimes she found like-minded souls, people who were running from something but had long since forgotten what they were running from. Most days, she missed Maddie.

Slowly, the grief and the bitterness turned to rage. More than before she began to see what fear did to those who were feared. They slowly turned into monsters.

Luca turned into a monster. Perhaps not one who would kill and rage and flung themselves to harm those in their way, but she became something that too often bordered on rage. Rage to prove everyone wrong, yet, to also prove them right. If they wanted her to be what they thought she should be, then she would. No longer would she try to prove them wrong, she would be what they wished to see in her, and she would be more than just that.

She came to Chicago knowing nothing. Traveling and good education had taught her English, but she clearly had little knowledge of this new country, and she tried to blend in as quickly as possible, while also trying to stand out as much as possible.

So when she heard of the Jem Family, she felt like they were like-minded, she felt like there her rage would be embraced rather than feared. So she made it her mission to seek them out and win their favor. It wasn’t hard. Not once they knew what her power was, not once she learned she was incredibly dangerous if she wanted to be. And she wanted to be. And she became the monster.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Angela Ramone: It took a while for Luca to get to the bottom of their jealousy, to understand why she felt what she felt. She had never really wanted power, but she wanted to change the world. She wanted for the world to understand that the mutants were there, and they were going to fight for their rights. But she didn’t think Angela was the person to do it, she didn’t believe for one moment that Angela could encompass the vision that was needed to ensure this new time, this new reign. This better place. Where people like her, like Maddie, could be safe. Feared and safe, where nobody dared to take one of them away, or ignore their rights.

JACKSON RAEMERS: Jackson reminds her of Maddie. Not that Maddie was a man with a beard and who could shape-shift, but he did have that careful nature about him. He was kind, and most of all, he was there for her if she needed it. And she had forgotten over the years how badly she craved normal human contact that wasn’t all about being a mutant and being on the run and surviving another day or fighting for others. He made her feel human for a little, made her feel like she was appreciated for something other than the chaos she sought to embody.

Derek Park: Derek and Luca were absolutely meant to be friends. There really wasn’t any way around it. From the moment she met him, she knew that they should generate chaos. They had to, as if some unspoken promise forced her to stand at his side. She knew it was deeper than that. She just wanted to be able to manipulate fire again. It might not be through her breath, but it was something that brought her a little closer to Maddie, if only in spirit. Not to mention the level of destruction the two of them can create: that is chaos, that is power. At Derek’s side, Luca can be the monster she craves to be. At Derek’s side, she can raise hell and show everyone that nobody messes with them. So whenever she is given the chance, she will try to push Derek to his limits, because his limits allow her to learn, and in learning, they can become stronger. If anyone deserves to burn their enemies to the ground, it is them.

EXTRA: 

Luca is Dutch.

She exclusively loves girls.

She can tell you anything about the Romani people in the Netherlands and Germany between the end of the 1800s and post-WWII.

Despite having lived in the US for the past couple of years, Luca is still oblivious to a lot of American things.

She’s grown up thinking the US was a failed state, but now she hates her own country more for betraying their liberal ideals.