#the motherfucking princess ( leah ic. )

[fiirecracker]

i told you i had it handled. you didn't have to bother. | @thedriftcr

"yeah? well, take this as a lesson for next time, drift. i don't take no for an answer." the girl flops against the wall, legs up to her chest. she rests an elbow across its respective knee, huffs. her side throbs. "titan? really? it had to be titan. had to be hive."

[fiirecracker]

"this isn't the time, you dumb, hilarious bitch!"

[fiirecracker]

Variks has tried- oh, how he's tried, to look after himself lately. He knows well enough what others would think if he didn't at least try. But he's older, now, and no matter how much he bundles up in thick furs and numerous blankets, there are days that the cold just gets to him and makes every old joint ache. There are days where he must sit, because even leaning on the staff provides no reprieve. That's not to speak of the times said joints have given when he goes to sit, or lean down to pick up a dropped object, or when the cold air bites too hard and the coughing fits are too much for him to breathe for a bit too long. Luckily, until now, nobody had been around to witness such things. Variks preferred it this way. His situation was miserable enough without random Guardians fussing over his wellbeing. It was easier, to be perceived as someone resilient. Yet, as Variks tries to straighten up from this last fit, he feels his knees start to shake. He feels the way his chest heaves as he breathes clearly again, and he feels the way he starts to sink to the floor, and he thinks please not this, as he faces the idea of spending a few hours on the cold floor. And then there are hands grasping at him, steadying him, and Variks squeezes his eyes shut in something between relief and mortification. He doesn't look at who it is, he just takes a second to appreciate that he at least hasn't fallen. "...Variks thanks you." Variks at last mutters, wheezing. | @nothingswarden

for too long, she has searched.

since that fateful day in the prison of elders, leah has languished in her loneliness. she would never admit it, of course. leah of no house is not weak. she is not lonely. she is an angry child born of violence and blood, and so she will remain until the day she dies. it is not in her nature to love. it is not in her nature to remain.

and yet, in that cold, iron prison, she found someone worth protecting. a pathetic, sniveling old man who struggled to breathe, who spoke with a broken accent. a man with intelligence behind each of those four eyes, even as he pretended to misunderstand. she broke into his office. she had every intention of stealing from him, just for the glimmer.

but he did not arrest her. and so she did not take. she gave, instead. brought ether, brought blankets. clawed every bit of information she could to sell, to trade— to ensure his survival.

and then the prison break. and then she was alone, again.

for four years, she was alone. refusing to build another connection, refusing to give up on the eliksni. he is just an old man, she told herself. he needs someone. and, though she is a monster, she has to be that for him. no one else will. no one else cares for him; not after everything he's done. (she knows what it means to be unloved. unlovable. he is not that.)

she finds him now on europa, and the base of her very soul aches. she had planned to come here and give him a piece of her mind. tell him everything he put her through. but he falls. his chest convulses. and leah cries out, running forward.

(he is old. he is weak. and this moon is so cold. she cannot help herself.)

"it's okay," says the girl, resting a hand on the side of his face. the opposite arm slides, to wrap around his middle. hugging him close, supporting his weight. "you're okay, old man. let's walk it off, yeah? let's get you in bed."

[fiirecracker]

leah tag drop //

pretty in pink ( leah. ) / i don’t wanna feel; tell me that i’m perfect ( leah musings. ) / compliments this failure of a girl ( leah aesthetics. ) / the motherfucking princess ( leah ic. ) / i trusted you; i’m still trying to ( general leah ships. ) / painted nails and high heels ( leah appearance. ) / call me a reckless wrecking ball ( leah headcanons )