#use it to teach her what’s wrong with using her power on innocent people just to get her way. like i need them to explore this more please

[mcrdvcks]

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious

Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.

Word Count: 17.4k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)

i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.

i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!

warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader

You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.

At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.

It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.

After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.

You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.

Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”

You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.

When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.

Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.

“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”

Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”

Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”

Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."

You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.

Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”

There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”

“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”

You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.

Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.

He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.

And that was why he found you so fascinating.

You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.

It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.

---

Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.

You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.

You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.

“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”

“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”

Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”

“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”

Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”

“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”

Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”

You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”

“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”

“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.

For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.

When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.

Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.

Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.

You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.

You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.

There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”

Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.

“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.

He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”

You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.

“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”

Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.

“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.

Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.

“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”

You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”

You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”

You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.

“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”

He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”

“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”

“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”

There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.

You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.

“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”

Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”

You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”

Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”

He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”

“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”

Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”

Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.

“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”

You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.

“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”

You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.

Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.

“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”

You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”

Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”

There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”

You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”

Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”

“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”

“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.

“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”

Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”

“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”

Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.

As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.

“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.

“Why do you do this?”

He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.

Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”

You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.

As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?

---

The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.

After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.

Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”

He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”

Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.

“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”

He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.

“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”

Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”

Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.

You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.

You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.

Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.

“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.

Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”

You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”

He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.

But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”

“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.

You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”

You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”

Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”

Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”

“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”

He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”

You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”

Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.

“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”

Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ‘em much.”

“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”

Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.

You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."

"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."

You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."

Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"

You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”

Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"

You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”

He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”

You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”

Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.

That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.

As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”

Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”

Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’

You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.

You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.

“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”

Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”

Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”

“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”

Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.

“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”

Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.

“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.”

You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.

Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.

You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.

“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.

Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”

Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.

Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."

Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"

Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”

Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”

Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”

Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”

Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”

Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”

Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?

Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.

---

You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.

They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.

But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.

Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.

“Need any help, princess?”

You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.

Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.

You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.

He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.

Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.

He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.

You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.

"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.

Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.

You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.

"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."

You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.

"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.

Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."

You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"

He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"

"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."

Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.

"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.

"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.

But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.

As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.

"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.

Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.

"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."

"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.

"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.

"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"

His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."

He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.

You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.

"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."

Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."

And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.

---

Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.

Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.

This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.

Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.

“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.

You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.

"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.

“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”

You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."

Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.

Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.

He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.

The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.

“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.

You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.

Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”

You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”

He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”

You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."

One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."

Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.

But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.

“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.

“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.

“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.

You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”

You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.

He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"

His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."

Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.

You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”

Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.

Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”

Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”

Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."

Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."

Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.

"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."

Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."

Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."

Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."

The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.

"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."

Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."

---

After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.

Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.

Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.

You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.

“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.

You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”

He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”

Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”

Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”

You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.

“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.

The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.

---

At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.

Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.

Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.

Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.

Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.

"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."

Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.

Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."

"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."

Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."

Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."

Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."

As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.

"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.

Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.

He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."

You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"

"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."

Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"

Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.

"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"

"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."

"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."

"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.

---

“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”

“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.

Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”

Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."

You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."

Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."

You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"

Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."

Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."

You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."

Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”

---

A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.

"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.

Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."

Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."

As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.

You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.

Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"

You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."

"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."

The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."

You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."

The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.

You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.

So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.

You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.

“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.

Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”

Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”

You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”

Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.

“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”

“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”

You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”

Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.

“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.

You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”

Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”

You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”

Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”

You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.

Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”

---

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.

As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?

You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.

“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.

You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.

“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”

You blinked. “What advice?”

“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, you were there?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”

You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”

Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”

Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”

You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.

---

It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.

Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.

Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.

He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.

Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.

Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.

"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.

"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.

You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"

Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."

Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."

Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"

You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.

“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.

“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?

Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."

Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward  genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.

"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"

Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."

Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.

"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."

You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"

"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."

You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.

Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.

You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.

One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.

Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”

You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”

Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”

You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?

“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”

Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don’t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”

You blinked. “I’m not?”

Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”

Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”

You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.

He really liked you.

Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."

Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.

He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.

Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.

"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?

"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."

Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.

No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.

Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-

Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”

You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."

His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."

Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.

"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.

"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."

You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.

"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."

You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—

Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."

You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."

His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.

"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."

Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"

Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.

Logan was kissing you.

Logan.

Was kissing.

You.

Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.

His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”

You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”

Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”

Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"

You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.

But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.

A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.

Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."

You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.

"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.

"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."

Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."

chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (8)

Summary: The aftermath of all her family secrets might be more chaotic than Reader bargained for when her powers suddenly start to flare. Good thing her Warlord has more than a few ideas how to help navigate it ;)

Content Warnings: Depressive thoughts, Reader mentions wanting to die; Suggestiveness, Slight SMUT; Canon Typical Violence

Author's Note: To make up for the last chapter being so short, please enjoy that flirty little bastard being a menace! ;)

Chapter 7/Masterlist

---------------

I don’t sleep at all that night. I lay there, Rhysand sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted from the events of the last couple of days. He’d barely kept his eyes open long enough to eat. I’d barely managed to choke down a few bites myself. The guilt has my stomach in a perpetual knot. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to hating this male, only to be wrong about all of it, and now I’m in too deep to even do anything about it.  I can’t go home. There is no home to go back to. My family slaughtered an innocent mother and daughter. Rhys received their heads in boxes like some sort of twisted gift. They were supposed to be allies and my father betrayed them in the worst possible way. He paid for it with his life, with my mother’s life; it should have been the end of it. Tamlin was given a mercy and he should have taken it. He should have abandoned my father’s teachings and become a better lord, a better man. Instead, he perpetuated the cycle of abuse and suffering. He encouraged me to hate these people, to covet everything they had as if they were undeserving of it. All these years I loathed our miserable existence thinking the Mother hated us and was being unjust in giving these people all these things that we were never allowed. But we deserved it! We were the bad guys all along.

I roll over onto my side to look at him. He still sleeps in his armor, knife still strapped to his thigh, sword resting against the tent pole only a foot away. He’s ready to be up and fighting in a moment's notice. Our father’s were so similar, and yet, he turned out to be merciful and kind and somehow, so startlingly gentle that I often forget he’s still capable of intense prowess. He is the only male I’ve ever truly felt comfortable with, because that gentleness came as a response to the violence he’d seen, not because that violence was never there. He’d felt the cold sting of it, and chose to be something gentle instead of returning it.

And here I am, with all that righteous anger that had kept me warm on my coldest days, choosing to return all the violence that had been inflicted on me onto others. Just as Tamlin did. Just as my father did. 

And looking at it I don’t want to be him. He ruined my mother! He took something good and kind and locked it away and used her for his own ends! I don’t even know if he ever really loved her. Why would you keep the things you love in a cage?

I sit up abruptly. Maybe he was as scared of being alone as I am. 

I can’t sit in this tent anymore! I can’t-

Rhysand jolts awake as soon as I move, hand twitching for his knife, shadows swirling off his body in response to what his sleep muddled mind thinks is a threat. “What’s wrong?”

I put a hand on his chest, spinning onto my knees so I can kiss his forehead. “Nothing, I just need to relieve myself.”

He lets me push him down onto the mat, body relaxing and pliant beneath my touch. “You sure?”

“Positive.” If he tried to follow me out now I think I really might explode. My stomach feels like it's ripping itself apart. My bones ache, my skin feels like it's stretched too tight over them. There is too much nervous energy bound inside my body. I just need to get out and stretch my legs; get some fresh air and clear my head. I will be fine if I can clear my head.

“Take your knife,” he says, eyes already drifting shut again. 

I strap it to my thigh as I slip from the tent, gulping down lungfuls of crisp, mountain air as I go. I just need to clear my head. Is finding a way to survive this fucked up world really me acting like my father? I’ve never killed innocent people. I’ve never withheld necessities or lorded my power over people. I’m just not being honest about my intentions. It’s shitty. I’m using a mating bond I’m still not wholly sure is real as a means to getting food and shelter and, hopefully, a decent helping of mind blowing sex.

Cauldron that sounds really, really fucked up.

But how am I supposed to tell him? Hey, I know that you really don’t like my family and they’ve done nothing but screw you over but I also accepted your offer to try and ruin your life and take all of your land and kinda only just changed my mind about it yesterday. And it would be really super cool if you just let that slide because I have nowhere else to go.

That would go over soooooo well. He’d be totally fine with it! 

I ground my palms into my eyes as I walk behind a couple trees to at least make it look like I really did need to go pee. There are men on guard duty, no doubt someone is going to see me wandering around camp.

My brain feels like it’s being squeezed by my skull. There has to be a way to go about this that doesn’t get me tossed out into the coming snow, while also not lying so deeply about it. I do care about him. It was a lie at first but now…

I put my back against the tree and slide down until I’m sitting on the rocky ground, head still in my hands. I don’t know if he’s my mate. There’s something there, I feel it pulling at me, even now, but I can’t give it a name. And I want to be here. Not just because of the story he’d told yesterday. When Lucien tried to get me to leave, I really didn’t want to go back with him. But how am I supposed to live with the truth? How am I supposed to look at him and see that he wants this so much more than I do, despite everything?

Actually, why does he want this, despite everything? He’d asked me why I stayed. I never asked him why he brought me here. There’s certainly enough bad blood between our families to make even a mate hesitate to bring me in.

I lean back against the tree, the rough scrape of the bark against my aching skin a relief. My body feels so strange, being around Rhysand’s magic has made it feel like there’s something beneath my skin.

Tomorrow, in the morning, I will ask him why he still brought me back. Then I will decide what to do. 

------

He certainly doesn’t make asking him easy. Rhys wakes me up with his lips on my throat, along the fading marks he’d left a couple days before,  trailing them down as his hands hike up my sweater. The heat of him against the early morning chill has my resolve slipping, all my plans slipping through my fingers as he runs his tongue over my peaked nipples.

I can’t think past the roaring in my ears; the ache in my body for more, more, more. There is nothing and no one but him as he trails lower, each kiss more forceful than the last as he heads for the waistband of my pants.

“Rhys,” I moan, voice still thick with sleep, even as my body arches under him. I want him everywhere. I need him everywhere. The stirring feeling beneath my skin is worse today, only quelled by the trail of his hands on my body. For once, my racing thoughts are quiet. If only we could stay like this. 

“Hmmm,” he hums into my stomach, just beneath my navel. There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw, the scrape of it against my oversensitive skin makes my eyes roll back into my head. “Did you want something, mate?”

“You,” I groan, hand reaching out to tangle in his hair to try and move him where I need him. 

He grins, I can feel the upturn of his lips against my stomach, but he refuses to budge. Just nips at the skin visible above my waistline. “You have me.”

Bastard! My whole body trembles beneath him. I can’t get a breath down fast enough. I need him everywhere all at once. “Need you inside me,” I bite out.

He simply hums again, hands tugging at my waistband with an inhumane slowness that makes me feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. I use the hand not in his hair to grip the mat, trying to ground myself, trying to find some semblance of control again. I’m gripping so tight my bones ache, fingers feeling like they’re breaking. There’s a tearing sound, a pricking sensation in my palm and then a gush of something wet across my hand. 

Even he looks up at that, and when I turn to look, I’m more than a little surprised to find that I’ve grown claws, and I’ve just tore them right through my hand!

“Shit!” He’s gone from between my legs in an instant, all the heat in my body leaving with him. 

I can’t unfurl my hand. Can’t retract the claws, they’re stuck through my palm with my fist closed around it. I’ve only ever grown them in anger, how the hell had I done it now?

Rhysand comes back with a towel as I manage to sit up. “I thought you smelled different this morning,” he muses.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I hiss.

“Our magic can be protective. It can hide itself if it doesn’t feel safe. I don’t think you were born with too little, I think you were born with too much.” His fingers massage my wrist, trying to find the right pressure points to help me unclench my fist. “I think that it buried itself inside you to keep you safe. And I think, now that you’re here, it’s manifesting, and like the wards, it has its own scent.”

Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Well I’d like it to un-manifest,” I hiss. “I was doing just fine without it!” There’s blood dripping through the towel, if anything it feels like my claws are burrowing deeper into my palm. I can practically feel them trying to tear right through the back of my hand.

He can’t seem to find the right spot and trying to pry my fingers out of my palm is a no go. He frowns, lifting the towel for a better look. “I’m gonna try something.”

I’m prepared for a blow from his own magic, some form of glittering starlight or shadowy darkness, I am not prepared for him to kiss me again. The sound I make in surprise is somewhere between a growl and a gasp because what the hell is he doing? But even though my head is struggling to catch up, my body is not. On instinct, I lean back to allow him better access, his tongue slipping behind my teeth. The rolling feeling beneath my skin lessens, the tightness in my palm slowly releasing. I thread my functioning hand through his hair as my body gives what I can only describe as a sigh of relief. A moment later, the claws retract and I can finally unfurl my fist.

“Flair ups can be heavily tied to your emotions,” he says, lips barely off mine. “Probably wasn’t the best idea to tease you in the middle of one.” 

It takes him all of thirty seconds to find some rags and tie up my hand, even though the blood flow is already lessening. All I can do is stare at it while he does it. This is certainly a new and unwelcome development to this whole mess.

“Is that going to keep happening?”

Azriel pops his head into our tent, unannounced as usual. “Are you two done in here or what? I, personally, cannot live with Cassian if he beats us around the mountain.”

“We’ll be right there,” Rhysand huffs.

“I’m seeing a trend with him,” I mutter. 

He smirks, “It’s one of Azriel’s many charms.” 

He helps me to my feet, holding onto me like he thinks something else might just burst out of my skin. Truth be told, I can still feel something shifting around, a prowling animal begging to be released from its cage. I’d thought it was my unease this whole time, but maybe it’s worse than that. 

“We don’t know how deep your power well is,” Rhysand says. “And if it’s never fully manifested…” He blows out a breath. “When mine first started manifesting, I shredded a whole section of camp with starlight. There was a whole twenty-four hour period where my shadows blocked out the sun. And you’re my equal so, yes I think that will keep happening.”

Cauldron boil me!

“As long as you remain calm, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I should think you would know better than to tell a female to be calm, Rhysand.”

He grins, “Well you can also spend the day making out with me, since that seems to be such a lovely little distraction with you.”

I go to hiss an insult at him but the only thing that comes out is an actual, animal-like growl. I clamp a hand over my mouth in embarrassment while he bursts out laughing. 

“This is going to be fun!” He declares.

I am not at all inclined to agree.

----

I only manage to ride with him for an hour or two before the pull of his magic makes my skin start to itch. He was right about magic having a scent. Half way through the hour I suddenly become very aware of the jasmine scent of him. It’s everywhere. In every breath. Every brush of his chest against my back, every movement of his hands along the reins. My body is hyper aware of every place we do and don’t touch.

“Getting all worked up again, aren’t we?” He purrs in my ear.

My jaw feels like it’s snapping as a set of fangs tear through my gums, spurting blood into my mouth. Somehow his magic is the catalyst for my transformation and the balm all in one. I can’t be near him and I can’t be away from him, as I soon learn. When I jump off the horse and declare I’m going to walk beside him, my claws return, in both hands this time. At least they shoot out my nail beds and not my knuckles like Tamlin’s.

The thought of him makes another growl rumble through my chest and something that feels suspiciously like fur sprouts from the back of my neck.

“Wouldn’t recommend,” Rhysand warns.

The itchiness of my skin is even worse on the ground. I feel the wards tugging at me like I’ve been tied to the glittering magic that builds them with a string.  The jasmine and overripe fruit scent of them is enough to make my nose crinkle. Apparently the transformation heightens my senses as well.

“I’m gonna tear off my skin,” I snarl, fidgeting with my collar. Why is it so itchy? Is it supposed to be like this?

He slows his mount to keep pace with me and I do not miss the grumbled complaints of the males behind us. My ears twitch every time one of them speaks, the sound sometimes like a shout and others like a far off echo.

“Breathe,” he says gently. “The more worked up you get, the worse it will be until we can find a way to safely expel it.”

I draw a shaky breath, then another. 

“Good girl.”

A shiver works its way up my spine at that.

“Now come here,” he leans so far out of the saddle he’s only holding on with his thighs, and my first thought is how we can get this little caravan to pause so I can be the one beneath him. He gets an arm around my waist and hauls me back up onto the horse and damn if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a male do!

“Let’s get these wards up-” I’m hyper-aware how every word rumbles through his chest, the way his body shifts on the horse. “-And we’ll find a place to camp soon enough, then you and I can work on this.”

“Make it stop,” I gently beg. “I don’t want it!” The itch beneath my skin is becoming unbearable! My claws scratch up my arms, tearing up my sweater. 

His free hand covers mine, intertwining our fingers, even as the horse begins to move. “Focus on me.”

I focus my attention on the way his body molds against mine. The way the leather of his glove slides over the back of my hand. I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the brush of his chest against mine, the swaying motion of his hips as the horse moves over the rocky terrain. It’s not enough. Not like the feel of his lips on mine had been this morning. As if he knows it, he drops his head against my shoulder, nose brushing over the exposed skin of my throat. 

“I’m right here,” he continues. “Focus on me, just like you did this morning.”

This morning there had been a lot less clothes between us. 

“Breathe for me.”

It is a physical effort to draw a deep enough breath in; another to pull my claws away from my itching skin. He settles our joined hands against my stomach. 

“Again.”

I manage to do what I am told, just barely. 

“Good. Just like that.” His voice makes a shiver run down my spine as my mind spins with all the other things I want him to talk me through. I think I could do just about anything if he explained it to me in that rich, husky voice he was using in my ear. “Part of learning to control it is finding your center. Find a safe mental space to retreat to.”

“Like what?” There are few places in the world I have ever felt safe. Thinking about how I used to sit in the rocking chair with my mother and listen to her stories only fills me with pain now. Or perhaps a couple weeks ago I might have thought about all those summers I spent at the creek with Lucien, but now it only makes the thing beneath my skin rumble and shake like there’s some sort of animal that lives caged beneath my ribs and is trying desperately to break free. What makes me feel safe?

“A good memory, a happy time,” he lists. 

I have nothing. My eyes start to water and my throat starts to close, talons growing longer and sharper at my fingertips. I feel the give of my leather chest-piece beneath them. Everything good in my life has been a lie! Everyone that was supposed to protect me only ever hurt me in the end. None of it was ever real.

And this, this thing that could be something, that could be real, I had ruined it. I have to lie to keep it. I have to pretend that I had every right to hurt him, when it was really the other way around. The only person who had ever told me the truth, who could see me for what I was, and I had ruined any chance of it being real before it had even had the chance to start.

A sob slips out of me and with it, the tree we pass erupts in a flurry of leaves and twisting, screaming bark that makes the horse rear. The earth rumbles, random cracks splitting in the rock face, gnarled vines crawling out of them like tentacled monsters. The itching in my skin won’t stop! The more I try to trap it the more the world around us screams in protest. 

“Breathe, Y/N,” Rhysand orders in my ear. “You have to breathe.”

“I can’t!” I choke out. 

He slides his hand out of mine and brings it up against the side of my temple. It feels like a shadow unfurling from his fingertips, but the brush of it is not against my face, but inside my skull. Darkness clouds my vision from the inside out. It feels as if my brain is being emptied, piece by piece with shadows until there is nothing inside my mind but him. 

“Breathe,” he commands, the voice of a Warlord. “Now.”

I choke on each breath. 

“You are safe, Y/N,” he says, gentler. There is nothing in the world but the two of us in this dark little bubble. Nothing but the press of night chilled jasmine and calming, all consuming night. From somewhere far off, I hear music on the wind, the swell of stringed instruments pulling my attention away from the itch running beneath my skin.

“Why is this happening?” My body feels so impossibly small, yet like it’s being stretched beyond its capacity, my bones trying to tear through the confines of my skin all the same.

“Our powers can very easily get tangled with our emotions,” he explains, the hand on my temple drawing shapes into my skin. Somehow, after looking at the stitches in the tent walls, I know he’s spelling something out in Illyrian, but I’ll never know what. “The last twenty-four hours have been a lot for you, I’m sure.”

There is no room to think about it in this headspace, no twisted memories to plague me, only the music and the faint twinkle of stars for company. I let myself fall into it, let it swallow me and fill me until I feel disconnected from the pulling of my skin.

“I don’t want this power,” I whisper into the darkness.

The darkness caresses me, wraps itself around me as surely as his arm around my waist. “I know, but we don’t get a say in what we’re given, only what we do with it.”

When have I ever truly had a say in anything?

“What if I hurt somebody?” What if I am just as bad as my father in both intentions and power? If I am capable of plotting to ruin someone’s life based on a lie, how much more capable am I of turning these claws on someone else? Maybe power is passed from my mother, but that will never change the fact that I now carry the same weapons that were used to scar me, and Rhys, and probably his mother and sister. 

“You won’t,” he assures. “I’ll be right here to teach you. You can control it.”

He has far more faith in me than he should.

----

Once we’ve stopped for the night and camp is set up, Rhysand takes me by the hand and leads me out into the empty, grassy plains beneath the mountain. The knee-high yellow blades are brittle this time of year, cracking under our boots as we walk until only the smoke from the campfires pinpoints where we left the others. We’re far enough away that I won’t hurt anyone if I lose control again.

Shame flushes my cheeks. I’ve always prided myself on being the calm one of the family; always able to keep my emotions shoved deep down beneath the surface to keep them from getting the better of me. I thought I was good at it. I was wrong. It’s only been the constant brush of Rhysand’s shadows against my mind all afternoon that have kept me from tearing everything I touch to shreds. Even now, my hands ache from often my new claws have sprung and retracted from my fingertips.

I must feel about as awful as Rhysand looks. The circles under his eyes have not lessened in the slightest, and every once in a while I’ll see him start to sway, like it’s an effort to stay on his feet. The scent of his magic has lessened, the night blooming jasmine fading behind the citrus and salty scent of him. He shouldn’t be out here with me, he should be resting, recharging his own magic so he can be prepared for more warding tomorrow. According to Azriel and the scouts’ reports, we should meet up with Cassian and Mor’s group by this time tomorrow and Rhysand will need all his energy to ensure both ends of the wards are fully meshed together. 

We stop once we’re cushioned between two large hills, nothing but the chirp of crickets and the stars to keep us company. The Mountain looms dark and shadowy beneath the small sliver of the moon. 

“This looks like a good place,” he says as he finally releases my hand.

I keep my lower lip between my teeth, hands shaking at my sides. I don’t want to do this! Entertaining the idea that I have powers to train and use is foolish. I don’t need to learn to use them; I need to learn to shove them back down into the darkest parts of me where they can’t hurt anybody. 

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggests. “Tell me where you feel your power the most.”

My hand comes up to poke between my rib cage, where the stirring and itchy feeling is the most concentrated. “Feels like something is trying to break out of my skin,” I say softly.

“The claws and the fangs could be a beast form,” he muses. “Or it could just be some shape-shifting powers you inherited from your father?”

The mention of that bastard makes the stirring in my chest feel like a tidal wave, raw energy crackling so hard and fast through my veins that I feel it crest out my fingertips. The grass around me withers and dies, the ground beneath it crackling and rumbling with what feels like the early stages of an earthquake. I can’t have powers like my fathers!

There is no shortage of pity in those violet eyes and I press my palms into my eyes with a groan. I can’t do this! It needs to stop! I need to bury it now before it runs away with me; while I still have some control over it. Because if it goes any further than this…

Maybe Tamlin was right to send me away. Maybe he did know about my powers and that was why he got rid of me. I couldn’t hurt anybody if I was alone in the woods.

Rhysands shadows drift along the floor until they can slither up my calves, rubbing affectionately against me in a way that reminds me of a cat. “It’s ok,” he soothes.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Make it stop!” I beg. “Show me how to bury it again.”

His shadows trail higher, winding over my hips and waist, even as he steps closer, leaving barely a breath between us. “Y/N…” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words and I feel a strange pang beneath the movement in my chest.

“Please,” I whimper. “I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.”

He cups my cheek and I give myself the briefest moment to fall into the warmth of his touch.  “I know it’s scary, and that it hurts, but this is good. It has to be released. You will die if you don’t.”

Then let me. The words freeze on my tongue when a tendril of his power flicks over his shoulder, down his wrist, to brush against my cheek, but that doesn’t stop the spiraling of my thoughts. Let me be free of this pain. Let me go out before I become a monster like my father. Let that awful bastard be right; let me be useless and worthless and incapable of doing anything he could be proud of. 

As if spurred on by my thoughts, the grass around me continues to wither, until there’s a whole circle of dead earth surrounding me. The harder I try to draw it in, the wider the circle becomes. Power sizzle through my nerve endings, a fire that digs itself into my veins and when I curl my hands into fists to try and stop it, I pull weeds through the cracks in the earth, the gnarled, leafy branches reaching up like skeletal hands that wrap around my, and Rhysand’s ankles.

“Focus on that spot,” his free hand taps gently against my ribs. “Focus until it feels like you’re holding it.”

I try to imagine the power like a bowl filled with sloshing, dark liquid. I imagine myself reaching for the lip of the bowl, the cracked edges and rough wood a mirror to the one that used to sit on our kitchen table, full of apples I’d sneak when no one was looking. If I make it familiar, it feels easier to focus on. I imagine every crack in the bowl, every worn edge, focusing until I get a mental hold around the edges. Now all I need to do is tip the bowl over. If I spill out its contents, there will be nothing left inside me to unleash… right?

“Once you can hold it, focus on containing it. Imagine it like a bottle, get all that energy into the bottle, and put a lid on the top,” Rhys says like he can hear my plans.

The liquid inside the bowl bubbles and hisses as my conflicted feelings run circles through my head. He hasn’t been wrong this far, I should do as he says, but I can’t help but feel like indulging this is a mistake. I can hear my father’s voice inside my head, telling me that this is not how females are supposed to behave. 

I can feel the weeds I’d summoned dying around me. Can feel every blade of grass as if it was somehow attached to my skin. The longer I hold that imaginary bowl, the more aware of this power I become, but it doesn’t feel like control. It just feels like more things pulling at me, trying to move me in directions I’ve never decided I want to go in. 

The ground rumbles beneath my boots again as my mental grip slips, and when I open my eyes the weeds, dead as they are now, have slithered all the way up my chest, reaching for my throat like some decrypt hand. 

The air leaves my lungs in a rush and with it, the dead vegetation crumbles and turns to dust on the wind.

Rhysand should be looking at me like I’m a monster. He should be stepping away, shadows swirling, that giant sword in hand. We are supposed to be enemies and he should be looking at me like I am one. But he’s not. He reaches out and brushes some of the ruined plant off my shoulder instead.

“It’s ok,” he assures. “No one gets it on their first try. Not even me.”

That compassion and understanding makes my chest ache worse than any restless power ever has. I don’t deserve it. I wish he would treat me like the horrible creature I am. He would be better off if he tossed me out into the woods like Tam.

He stiffens and I can’t help but wonder if I accidentally said that out loud because his eyes darken as he closes the gap between us and takes my face in his hands. “Maybe I’m taking the wrong approach.” His voice is clipped, husky. 

Good, maybe he can finally see me for what I really am.

I am wholly unprepared for him to crash his lips against mine. My brain short circuits, the agitation I feel morphing into that desperate, needy thing I had felt this morning. Just as I tilt my head back, lips parting to let him in, he pulls back. 

“Let’s play a game.”

The power in my chest feels like it’s going to rip out of my skin again. 

“Match what I do and you’ll get a reward,” he explains. “If you can’t…” He takes a step back and it is an effort not to chase after him, but the message is clear enough: Matching his efforts means his hands, his lips, his body is on me again, fail to do so, and he puts space between us. It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t make me want to try, but I do. Gods I do! 

“Ok,” my voice shakes a little. In the back of my mind I still think it’s a bad idea. Maybe I will regret it in the end, but this thing between us is the only thing that makes sense. There is nothing between us when his lips are on mine. I need that distraction tonight.

He holds out a hand and a ball of shadows emerge, the tendrils of darkness crawling out from beneath his skin to form the swirling shape. “Find that spot in your chest and push it into your hand. It’s a part of you, it answers to you. Make it answer to you.”

I hold out my hand, matching his position and then close my eyes, reaching for that bowl of darkness again. Hesitantly, I tip it sideways, sloshing some of the dark liquid over the edge and imagine pulling it through my limbs. It makes my muscles spasm, my claws shooting out of my nail beds in defense.

“Breathe through it, you’ll pass out if you hold your breath.” 

Selfishly, I want to impress him. Want to show him I can. I want the reward of his lips on mine again. Want to not have to think about whether I should be doing this or that, the only thought in my head him and how good he feels. I do as he says, drawing in a breath as I keep pushing that bit of darkness in the direction I want it. It makes my head hurt, trying to focus so intently, but I’m nothing if not persistent. 

I feel the rumble of movement beneath my palm, and just when I’m starting to think that maybe I’m more capable than I thought, the tiniest, most wilted looking dandelion grows from my palm. And then immediately turns to ash. It’s the saddest excuse for power I’ve ever seen and I growl out a complaint like a literal beast as even the thing in my chest shows its disappointment.

Rhysand snorts out a laugh too, which makes it worse.

So much for powerful. 

He clears his throat as he steps back into my space. “It was a good attempt.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I hiss. “That was embarrassing.” 

He wraps his hand around my wrist and places his lips against my palm anyway, never mind that my claws are still out and drifting over his temple as he kisses right where my powers flared. “You still tried.”

I shiver at the contact of his plush lips against my skin, his breath warm against my palm. My senses are still incredibly heightened and even that bit of contact makes my skin buzz with excitement. 

He quirks a dark brow as he looks at me from where my hand is still pressed against his lips. “Try again for me?”

I nod, not trusting my voice when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. His pupils are blown wide, barely a ring of violet left to see. He keeps his lower lip between his perfect teeth as he watches me with an intensity that makes my thighs clench. 

Just like before, I imagine myself holding that bowl, this time, I draw a breath and tip it over, letting more of that strange darkness spill into the abyss that is my soul. It is strange to see it like this, to have some parts of it so clear and yet the rest of it is shrouded in fathomless depths. There might be anything living within the confines of my skin. I’d never bothered to look until now. 

I push it towards my fingertips, just as before. The same spasm in my muscles returns, a knot forming in my bicep that I do my best to ignore as I keep pushing my power towards my hand. I remind myself to breathe when it flares in my wrist, making my claws retract and pop back out. 

“Just like that,” Rhysand coaxes.

Cauldron his voice makes my insides feel like jelly. 

Crawling vines emerge one by one from beneath my palms, twining around my fingertips like tiny snakes. In the center sprouts another dandelion, a little taller than the last. I manage to hold it for all of five seconds before the knot in my bicep and wrist become too much and the vines and flower die together. My bones ache. How does he do this so easily?

“Better,” Rhysand praises as he places the next kiss on the inside of my wrist, his fingers massaging the knot forming there. 

“Is it supposed to hurt?” I grumble.

“It’s a process,” he murmurs into my skin, lips trailing higher, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “Think of it like building a muscle. The first couple days of using that muscle will hurt. You’ll be sore. But the more you build it, the stronger it becomes, and the less it hurts. Eventually, you’ll be able to perform bigger and bigger feats with less and less discomfort.” 

That sounds exhausting! 

I’m going to have to do this for the rest of my life? The thought sours my mood, once again turning my thoughts away from this lovely little distraction he’s been offering and back into the darkness that’s been threatening to overtake me all afternoon. 

I swear he can hear the thoughts spinning through my head as he suddenly nips at the tender flesh of the inside of my wrist. “You think you can give me one more?”

I have a headache just thinking about doing it again, but he keeps looking at me through those long lashes, the intensity in his gaze making all rational thought fly out the window. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promises, lips trailing higher. He’s so warm and intoxicating, I think he might be capable of making me do anything, as long as his lips remain on my skin.

I focus on that spot, paying extra attention to breathe as I reach for that imaginary bowl a third time. Maybe if I let myself relax, lean a little heavier into the warmth of his touch, and stop trying so hard to hold on so tight, it won't hurt so bad. It has been like fighting a tide all this time; if I relax, go with the wave, will that make it easier?

I imagine that darkness spilling from the bowl like water instead, letting it flow like a river. The path from my chest to my fingertips is kind of like a stream, right? The water bubbling and rushing through me. There must be something to that thought process, because, when I open my eyes, there are more vines twining around my fingers and wrist, but this time, tiny yellow and pink flowers bloom from them. There is nothing dead or angry crawling out from beneath my skin, but something beautiful and alive. My claws retract as the vines spin around my fingers.

I can’t help but grin as I look to Rhys for his approval. “I did it!”

He grins right back, the sight so dazzling I think I might just stand here for hours summoning flower after flower to see it again. “That’s my girl!”

Instinctively, spurred by the excitement rushing through my veins, I stretch up on my toes and place a quick kiss on his lips. “You’re a good teacher,” and I mean it. Whatever this is between us, I am grateful for him, even if this is all we have. “Thank you.”

He slides a hand in my hair and kisses me back. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know what it is I feel about it. It still feels wrong, or maybe it just feels different. Everything feels different these days, I’d rather not think too long about it. “Feels like I can breathe a little easier.” 

“Good.” He kisses me again. “We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”

I slide my hand into the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp as he rests his forehead on mine. I won’t let myself think about tomorrow, or about these new powers. There can only be this moment.

“Just promise me,” he continues, “that you’ll keep trying?”

“I might need some convincing,” I return, clinging to this distraction with every last bit of willpower I possess.

He grins at the challenge. This is the best I can give him today; the closest to the truth I can admit without laying everything bare. 

“I can be very persuasive,” he purrs and the next thing I know I am on my back in what’s left of the grass, the solid weight of him on top of me. “Maybe we should work on some self-defense while we’re at it. That was alarmingly easy.”

“The words every girl wants to hear when she’s beneath a man,” I retort.

“I just want you to be safe, is all,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose. 

I reach up a hand and brush some of the hair that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes out of the way. He is breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight. I wish I could paint or sketch, immortalize every glorious sharp edge of him in ink and paper. “I’m with you, how can I not be safe?”

Cauldron boil me, I mean that too.

It’s not until later that night, long after I’d fallen apart on his tongue in that field and then tumbled back into camp, nearly asleep on my feet to nestle down against his warm body that I remembered I’d meant to ask him this morning why he’d still let me in after everything between us. By now I’m too exhausted to care; maybe I’ll find the courage to ask in the morning.

-------------

Taglist:

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Thank you all for being so patient with this update! As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[heyftinally]

The fact that I've been recommended - and even BLAZED - posts from the "teacher crush community" is, quite frankly, concerning and nasty.

As a teacher, we almost always know when a student is crushing on us. Y'all aren't slick. And frankly, it's uncomfortable as FUCK for us. We have to walk on eggshells around you to make sure we don't give you the wrong idea or put ourselves in a situation that you're going to misinterpret or misrepresent to suit your fantasies, because that can cost us our careers and our livelihoods. Do you know what happens to pedophiles? Yeah, that's what we could get labeled as EASILY.

It's just really REALLY uncomfortable and gross to think about someone 10+ years younger than you crushing on you, or especially having "spicy" thoughts about you.

This isn't something cute or innocent to promote or fantasize about. Teacher/student relationships are abuse. It's always an abuse of a power dynamic, often an adult and a minor, and it's not something that should be considered normal or innocent.

Your teachers are at WORK to TEACH you - don't make it weird for them. That's gross. It's just as gross as when an old man goes into Starbucks and starts hitting on the barista ⅓ his age. Don't creep on people, especially not when they're at work and forced to be around you. Seriously. I know you can't control a crush, but instead of glorifying it, work on getting over it. It's not cute or funny or quirky, it's gross and uncomfortable as hell for your teacher, and they deserve to have a safe work environment.

I had a student crushing on me, and it was the most disgusting, uncomfortable situation I've ever been put in. This CHILD was a good 10+ years younger than me, and would relentlessly try to find excuses to talk to me just so she could "flirt" with me (gag, puke). I was legitimately concerned I was going to lose my job if too many other kids caught on to her game, and if that happened I could have easily never been able to work with kids again - it would have cost me my CAREER.

Stop it. Seriously, stop it. Leave your teachers alone.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Don't take them from me!

Summary: While trying to help at a crime scene you were captured and accused of killing 15 people, Fury decided to take drastic action. Taking Venom from you! But don't worry it doesn't last long

Also Nat is mentioned briefly as a bad guy, I'm sorry but someone needed to be the bad guy

Warnings: A little bit of angst, not loads but enough and Fury being a dick

A/N: I know I promised I could teach you things pt 5 and its coming but this came to me at 2am so it obviously needed to be told

Words: 2,200

*******************************************************************

God you felt sick, the bright lights of the secure jail threatened to rip your head apart, you tasted blood in the back of your throat and just wanted to throw up, how could this have gone so wrong? You tried help, that’s all you did! But of course they were allowed to get away with it while you and Venom were ripped apart, literally

“Fury you can’t do this! It’ll kill the both of them!” Wanda’s voice was barley heard in your mind as if she was far away and not being held back by security while you were strapped to a chair in the lab with high sound frequencies piercing your whole body ripping the symbiote from you, they tried their best to hold onto you but the pain was too much for both of you, eventually the room went quiet and you could think again

“Venom?” Nothing

“Venom?!” You tried again struggling against the restraints needing to see where Venom was

“Fury! What the fuck have you done?! Where’s Venom?!”

“Y/n I’m going to need you to relax, we have the symbiote in a container see”

You looked to your left where he was stood and saw the cylinder holding Venom, just some black gooey liquid trying to escape “give them back!” You shouted but the man shook his head

“Can’t do that Y/n, you and that alien killed 15 innocent people on live television, it needs to be studied and dealt with while you await trial” some man appeared and placed the container in a secure briefcase taking it out of the room

“Let Wanda go men, she can comfort Y/n before she gets put in jail” you watched a group of guards drop your witch to the ground, she quickly stood and entered the chamber with you undoing your restraints and pulling you into a hug off of the chair

“Detka! I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in time”

"I didn't kill them Wanda, I didn't hurt anyone innocent and neither did Venom, it wasn't us please believe me"

"Shh baby it's okay I believe you I believe you"

You both stayed there in a huddle you crying yourself to sleep in Wanda's hold, the thought of never seeing your symbiote hurt you more than you thought it would.

******************************************************************

“Y/n”

With your thoughts interrupted you looked up to see Natasha stood on the other side of the glass looking solemn and you laughed “here she is, the one who turned me in for a crime I didn’t fucking do! How do you feel Nat? Good? Happy that you no longer have to deal with a alien beating you in every capacity? How could you? Wait I know! You want Wanda” you smirked standing up and ignoring the headache to stride over to the glass

“You want Wanda and you wanted the credit for capturing a “dangerous criminal” like me when you know full well I didn’t kill any innocent civilians” even without Venom your voice was low and deadly sounding, in all this time Nat hadn’t said a word and it pissed you off

You smacked the glass beside her making her blink, her ability to appear stoic when she was actually scared was annoying “Venom was taking over you, they needed to be removed before we lost you all together” her voice was steady and you scoffed

“We’re bonded Nat of course we’re going to act different, I wasn’t becoming dangerous, I was powerful, I felt like I could do anything with them in me, and you had to take it all away!”

“Y/n?” You looked behind Nat to see Wanda and your face softened into a smile “baby” you moved to the side watching her become face to face with you “want to help me out? I bet if you blasted the glass I’d be out of here in no time" you laughed but Wanda didn't laugh instead she looked to Nat who took the hint and left you two alone

"Honey do you remember when I found the Darkhold?" You groaned falling to the ground knowing where this was going "Wanda please I don't need to hear you going on about being a powerful witch then being pulled down a few pegs because you were too powerful or however it goes"

Wanda knelt down to you and tried again but it just annoyed you more banging on the glass again "I just need Venom back! They need me and I need them!"

You closed your eyes calming yourself down knowing it wasn't Wanda's fault "I'm sorry" you whispered not hearing the door open and suddenly being enveloped into a tight hug like the one in the lab "I'm sorry" you kept repeating letting tears fall from your eyes

"Shh baby it's okay I know I know you're sorry" Wanda reassured you rubbing your back "I need them back Wands I'm scared"

"Princess I promise I'll try to get them back but if I can't it went be the end of the world"

You sighed "I'll burn this place to the ground to get them back Wanda, no other choice"

**********************************************************************

"I need my host back! You cannot keep me in this terrible meat sack of a body! it is puny and smells funny!"

The body was thrown around the room and Venom left them standing tall in front of director Fury

"I knew you didn't like me Mister director but I feel like this is cruel and unusual" they growled out

"I don't like aliens that take advantage of a young woman to try and take over the world"

Venom groaned "if I wanted to destroy the world I would've done so already, I was happy with Y/n and we were going to propose to Wanda very soon, I had a party planned and we would eat chocolate and chicken and when Wanda said yes we would sleep with her because that is what humans do as a celebration when something good happens"

Fury rolled his eyes "that all sounds great and not believable at all, so now you'll stay right here until we figure out how to deal with you"

"You cannot kill what is already dead inside!"

The room went silent and Venom thought about it "it seems I have acquired Y/n's sense of humour, but it still stands that you cannot kill me!"

"Oh we don't plan to kill you, more like study you and find out what makes you tick, we just need to find you a host-

"I have an idea!" Fury rolled his eyes knowing where this was going

"Give me back to Y/n and I'm sure you can study us together!"

Fury left without interacting with Venom again

"Can I at least have some chocolate?! I'm starving!"

*****************************************************************

"How are you feeling kid?" Tony was the next one to visit you in jail and he brought you some doughnuts, food was always his go to when something bad happened

"Feeling like shit Tony, everything I eat tastes like shit and I'm struggling to keep water down"

He huffed opening the box of 12 doughnuts "sooo you don't want a chocolate doughnut? It's your favourite"

You sighed knowing you probably wouldn't keep the food down but god the doughnut did look delicious "go on then give me the poisonous food"

He gave you his annoying smile and passed the sweet treat through the door and watched you eat it hesitantly "I hope this doesn't put me off doughnuts forever"

The two of you ate in silence and while you did manage to keep the food down you couldn't manage another one "thanks Tony" you said quietly and instead of being annoying like usual he just replied with "it's okay kid, we'll figure this out"

******************************************************************

"Venom? Venom are you in the room or a container?" Wanda was quiet sneaking into the lab after distracting the guards with her magic, it wouldn't last too long though so she needed to be quick

"Wanda! You have come to save me! They wouldn't give me chocolate!"

Wanda went bright red trying to quiet down the alien "shh Venom shhh come on just stop you'll get us caught!" She tried whispering but had to raise her voice when they wouldn't stop

"Venom! Shut the fuck up!" She finally exploded and Venom finally stopped widening their white eyes "you are a scary redheaded woman Wanda"

"Just stop talking and get in me"

The rom was silent for a few moments when Wanda realised what she said and Venom was trying to understand why she was silent until they realised "you made a sexual innuendo didn't you?"

She gave a nervous laugh and rephrased what she said "just take over my body so I can take you back to Y/n"

"Yeah! I've missed my human!" Venom absorbed themselves into her body and Wanda wanted to be sick, how did Y/n deal with this?

"You have a comfortable rib cage Wanda and a full mind, it is very strange"

Wanda ignored the comments and exited the lab quickly going back to your jail "just stay in there and don't make a sound okay, we'll be there soon"

The symbiote was practically vibrating with excitement at seeing you again, it'd been nearly a day but that was way too long in their mind

Finally reaching the jail Venom couldn't help it leaving Wanda's body and sticking to the glass near where you lay "Y/n?! I have returned to you! Wake up!"

When you didn't wake up Wanda got concerned opening the door "Y/n?!"

Venom appeared again before you and hovered over your body "she is cold, I think she is dying"

Wanda was shocked "dying?! Why?!"

"We have been together for so long that our DNA was bonded but when they tore us apart it became harmful"

"Well go back in then! She can't die!"

Venom wasted no time in entering your body trying to wake you up, eventually you jolted and Wanda was there to hold you "Wanda? Did I pass out?"

Wanda was close to tears giving you a nod "you have them back"

Your eyes widened "what?"

She nodded and you gasped "Venom?"

"I have returned Y/n! We can continue to be annoying and propose to Wanda like we planned! No time like the present!"

You let out a laugh that soon turned to tears, god you were so happy they were back, and they were right about Wanda, definitely no time like the present

"Wanda I ha-we have a question" you managed to pull yourself up into a sitting position holding onto Wanda's hand "it's been a crazy 24 hours but whatever happens we need to ask you something important"

"Wanda couldn't say anything, you were near enough dying 5 minutes ago and now you were here sweating about a question"Wanda couldn't say anything, you were near enough dying 5 minutes ago and now you were here sweating about a question

"Wilyoummarryme?"

Wanda chuckled "say it again slowly babe"

You took a deep breath feeling Venom's tendrils appear holding a small box "will you marry me?" Venom took their cue to open the small box revealing a diamond ring making Wanda gasp and pull away from you

"Wanda? Are you okay?" You were nervous now, even Venom was slightly scared, maybe it was too soon after your near death experience, god you were really regretting it now

"Are we doing it wrong?" You were about to answer but Wanda pulled you close into a kiss "is that a yes?" you asked when she let you go "absolutely sweetheart!" She kissed you one more time accepting the ring that Venom gave you "it's beautiful" she admired it for a few moments

"How did you afford this?"

You groaned "Wanda can't we just enjoy our time together without you asking sil-

"You stole it didn't you?"

Venom decided to help you here, well help wasn't the right word "Wanda I took it from a person who no longer lives among the living"

Yeah no that was definitely not better but Wanda chose to ignore it "it doesn't matter, I love you so much!" you both embraced again feeling Venom wrap their tendrils around you both too "I want to be involved in this hug too"

The moment was cut short when the door slammed open, soldiers pilling in and Fury storming through "what the hell do you three think you're doing?! Sneaking into the lab and stealing the alien Wanda really?!"

Venom didn't let the soldiers get near you and Wanda instead wrapping more of their tendrils around you forming a close shield

"I have a small cabin we can go to, just say you want to" Wanda whispered to you and you nodded "get us the hell out of here fiancé"

"That's the sexiest thing you've ever said to me"

[kikker-oma]

LU HEADCANNONS FOR EACH OF THE BOIS

ALPHABETICAL ORDER

Four

Looks at his feet ALL THE TIME while walking, he doesn’t wanna step on a minish. Speaking of which, aside from Legend, is the only one fluent in more than one language because he knows the picori language

His hair looks brushed? Nah, it’s not. He tried brushing it and it always gets tangled, but the knots are just so fine it doesn’t even look like it’s tangled, so he only brushes the top layer of his hair.

Hyrule

Keeps the peace. One of the only reasons that the chain isn’t at each others throats. Part of the reason is that he doesn’t know what half of these debates is about, but is very good at making each side seem like he agrees with them, even though he’s confused.

Memorizes facts about everybody’s Hyrule to be prepared. Is VERY keen on being prepared. Even though he may come off as chaotic, he always has a plan for whatever will go wrong. Very much belives in murphey’s law.

Legend

ANGSTY GUY. Seems talkative but NEVER talks about what he truly thinks just talks because he feels the need to show people that he exists and is strong.

Claims that he hates children. Yet he will hug any baby he sees. Absolutely adores children if we are being honest. He even got Sky to teach him embroidery so he can embroid little blankets for babies 🥹

Sky

Hopeless romantic. He will wax poetry about Sun for 25 hours seven days a week if you let him. He shares literally everything he’s interested in with her.

He sometimes (this is so OOC but idc) sends post cards of him and Fi to LD-301S Scrapper to make him jealous. He absolutely hates that tiny robot.

Time

Cryptic. Will spill traumatizing memories of his past but will make them so cryptic that nobody will understand WHAT he’s saying.

(I think we can all agree) a father at heart. He knows eventually he will have to bid his goodbyes to the other 8 members of the chain but REALLLLY doesn’t wanna.

Twilight

Will eat table scraps

Is either REALLY good at getting women or REALLY bad, depends on where and when. Even though he is he regrets everyone because he’s still sad about Midna.

Family therapist. He knows everybodies problems and never shares them to anybody else, he’s always there for everyone.

Warriors

Even if he flirts with women, he never wants to date anyone. He’s still kinda… traumatized about Cia. He is more of a “take you out on a nice date but remains just friends” guy. He knows it may come off as toxic but he has best intentions.

He actually got his scarf enchanted by a great fairy. It as a defense boost and attack up. There is a reason he wears it, gotta be fashionable and practical.

Wild

LOADED, like 999,999 rupees. Because of this, for each era he goes to, he buys a yard of fabric for his home era. He will find use for it… some day.

As much as he and Flora are… alright together. He is still salty about her. He knows that she was struggling with finding her own destiny, but he still doesn’t like how he was treated.

Wind

Do NOT challenge him to any card game. At all. He will win he will take all your rupees and there is nothing you can do to stop him. And by the rare case that you DO beat him, he will pull the “young innocent baby boy” card which makes you want him to win and end up revoking your winner status.

A mischievous boy. Will poke people with his wind waker and finds it hilarious ever. Single. Time. The amount of times Wars literally had to hide it from him as he kept using the “control” power (idk what to call it) is uncountable. People would think that he taught Aryll all of this, but nope. Aryll was the one that taught him all those tricks. It runs in the family.

Ooohhhh these headcannons are so fun!!!

Fours little fairy knots in his hair is oddly adorable

Hyrule being the peacemaker instead of sky is really refreshing and I feel like more on oar for his character tbh!

Legend embroidering baby blankets has my heart MELLTIIINGGG😭❤️

Sky being a gremlin to Scrapper is also VERY true to his character. Sky is the best little piece of crap 🤣🤣

Time being SO cryptic hahaha and why shouldn't he be? It's so much more fun that way LOL.

Me feeding Twi all my scraps

Poor wars, Cia really is disgusting😠

Wild being rich🤣YES HAHA and they would be so shocked too lolol

Wind will BANKRUPT wild in a game of cards haha that would be a night to remember lol

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

How would the M6 react to a very very short MC? Probably 4'10 or less?

No I'm not projecting, I'm a tol gorl (I'm a gnome)

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a short MC

~ @zedibleandedible of course you're not, you are a perfectly average height XD I hope you like these, friend! - brainrot ~

-- for headcanon purposes, MC is a fully grown, 4'9 adult. I'll be putting M6's canon heights by their names as well --

Julian - 6'4

Upon meeting you, his mind follows this logical process exactly:

Wow, you are very short

He knows a short person very well. That short person is Pasha

Pasha is not to be messed with

Therefore, you are not to be messed with

But also, Pasha is his precious little sister and must be protected at all costs

Therefore, MC is clearly meant to become someone very precious to him, and he must now protect them at all costs too

This is what was going on behind that plague doctor's mask before you were able to get a read on him. He was stalling because he needed to figure out how to proceed

Having learned the hard way with his little sister, he is going to check first before making any jokes about your height

But if you give him permission, he is going to make so many. He's been saving up short jokes about Portia for years and this is a brand new innocent person to unleash them all on

Kisses work by grabbing his collar and yanking. He doesn't mind it

Asra - 5'8

They think you're perfect and adorable in every way. Your height just puts you at optimal top-of-the-head kisses level

If you think he won't take advantage of this to hold you to his heartbeat each time he hugs you, he absolutely will

They're used to being the short one in their friend groups, so you're definitely a change of pace (in a good way!)

Every time he sees you he wants to pick you up

They want to pat the top of your head so badly

It's right there, and it's so pattable!

But he's so careful about not pressuring you that it takes months of you asking if there's something wrong with your hair before he explains why he keeps staring at it

Teaches you all kinds of spells to float things off of high shelves

Likes watching you put people in their place when they assume that being short means it's okay to pick on you

Knits you a closetful of beanies because the top of your head is visible and so cute and they keep getting distracted whenever they can see it. Joke's on him, you're even cuter wearing the stuff they made for you

Nadia - 5'10

She's composed on the outside but on the inside she's melting

You will not know until you've been together for a very long time and you know just how much she respects you, because

Oh my goodness

She needs to squish you so bad

Or pick you up in her arms. Just once

She knows for a fact that you are strong and smart and capable and someone to take seriously

But you are an entire foot shorter than she is

On the plus side, it means she can just smother you every time she pulls you close for a hug

On the down side, she never wants to miss the opportunity to kiss you, but she's worried that her lips aren't easily accessible enough for when you want to initiate

She starts wearing clothes with lots of fabric flowing from her shoulders so it's easier for you to pull her down for a smooch

Will absolutely destroy anyone who insinuates that you can't be taken seriously because you're too small. Valerius learned a valuable lesson about not looking down his nose at you

Muriel - 6'10

He's terrified

Look, he is over two feet taller than you are. That's at least one chicken's difference. Maybe even two small chickens

What if he hurts you on accident? What if he walks into a room and doesn't see you there? What if you stand next to him and he hits you with his elbow?

Even more scared when you have to share a sleeping space, if he rolls over he could crush you and you wouldn't be able to escape

Until he sees how you respond to Morga and how easily you take to fighting

He's still terrified, but in the other direction

You can do insanely powerful things for someone your size

You also show him proof of his size being a positive thing - you're constantly asking him to reach things for you, and you're always using his wake to get through crowds

He doesn't want to have to double over each time he wants a hug or a kiss, so he gets in the habit of finding something to sit on anytime you two are in the same space so he's easy to reach

Suddenly the hut and clearing have so many tree stump stools

Portia - 5'1

FINALLY

Finally, somebody's shorter than her and not by half an inch!

She knows how annoying all the short jokes can be, she's not going to put you through that

Unless the cuteness aggression kicks in and then she is unloading every joke she's gotten over the years just for the satisfaction of not being on the receiving end of them

Loves being able to lean her head on top of yours during hugs and does so constantly

If you ask her to reach something down for you she will melt into a smug little puddle and gently tease you afterwards

Both of you are people to be reckoned with, so if the two of you ever get an insensitive comment from some foreign noble about Vesuvia sending "travel-sized" citizens they are in for a rough time

All the sailors on the boat now mentally equate "short" with "very strong"

But you are still their go-to person for when there's a small sack of something that's been wedged between a barrel and the corner of the hold, and then would you be so kind as to squeeze in and grab it for them?

Lucio - 5'10

Oh, you never heard the end of it when he was still a ghostly goatman

He was calling you every height-referencing nickname under the sun, and the more annoyed or upset you got the cuter he thought it was

Wait, cute? Oh no. Oh no, he thinks you're cute oh nooo ...

He tones it down quite a bit as he comes to respect and admire you, and eventually quits the nicknames altogether in an attempt to get you to like him better too

But he will never stop loving your height difference!

He feels so tall and manly and big next to you

Every time you ask him to reach something or look over the crowd for you his chest puffs up with pride

Makes the offer multiple times for you to sit on his shoulders to see a performance or announcement better whenever you're passing through a busy marketplace or town square

Will defend your honor against anyone who insults your height, but likes it even better when he holds your travel pack for you while you correct them

[shadowqueenjude]

Say what you like about the Vanserras, but they're ALWAYS serving with their lines. Eris Vanserra: “I didn’t realize Illyrians were in the habit of fucking their sisters.” “Let’s not lie to ourselves. You only bothered to contain two, by the time your brute bloodlust ebbed away.” “When you get tired of the animal, come find me. I’ll show you how a future High Lord plays.” “Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.” “Always mix truth and lies, General. Didn’t those warrior-brutes teach you about how to withstand an enemy’s torture?” “Too bad for you, I learned a thing or two about daemati. Too bad for my brothers that I never bothered to teach them.” Beron Vanserra: "Who knew that a cock could be so persuasive?" "Finally speechless, Rhysand?" “Says the woman who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead—for Amarantha to butcher as well.” “No, but perhaps to that girl’s family—but they’re dead, too, aren’t they? Butchered and burned to death in their own beds. Funny, that you should now seek to defend humans when you were all too happy to offer them up to save yourself.” “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.” “Did you know that while your mate was warming Amarantha’s bed, most of our people were locked beneath that mountain? Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment? And now Rhysand wants to play hero. Amarantha’s Whore becomes Hybern’s Destroyer. But if it goes badly …Will he get on his knees for Hybern? Or just spread his—” Lucien Vanserra:

“It’s been a few decades since I last saw one of you, but you humans never change, so I don’t think I’m wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant when surely the men back home aren’t much to look at.” “Tamlin said as much, which was no doubt why he brought you here. Or maybe you looked so pathetic in those rags that he took pity on you.” “Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?” “This isn’t the Night Court. And you have no power here—so clear out. Amarantha’s bed is growing cold.” "Go back to the shit-hole you crawled out of." “I’m not your enemy, you know. You can drop the aggressive brute act.”

Also, I love how all three of them love calling the bat boys brutes. Cuz yes that's exactly what they are.

[bestworstcase]

An additional reason for Winter and Cinder to interact - Puts Choice and Creation together as themes.

Knowledge is targeting information when paired. What are you choosing/creating/destroying. Why? (And Raven's already interacted with Cinder and Spring is in Vacuo to interact with Winter and Summer)

Destruction- Knowing what to destroy, choosing to destroy, clearing the field for a new planting.

Creation and Choice - that's trickier. To the point where honestly the choice to start anew, to start something is the only thing that I can think of.

Which - Atlas/Mantle is destroyed. Destruction has already been wrought. What comes after the fire?

the funny part is, the narrative is already doing this. has been since v3, when winter:

Emotions can grant you strength, but you must never let them overpower you. It sounds to me like you have two choices in front of you: you can either call [father], beg for his money back, and explain once more why you would want to study at Beacon over Atlas, or you could continue to explore Remnant, discovering more about the world and, honestly, about yourself.

couches her advice to weiss in these terms. you can choose to beg for father’s money, or you can choose to go without for the sake of living and growing and learning beyond his reach. she poses it as an open-ended observation but the way she phrases each path makes it quite clear what she thinks weiss ought to do. and again in v7, when winter tells weiss that ironwood picked her to become his maiden and weiss asks if that bothers her:

 It did at first, when the General first proposed it to me. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw it as a privilege, a chance to do some real good for Atlas. For Remnant. […] I’m choosing it now. I've made it my own. And I take great pride in it. That has nothing to do with Father, or the General… That belongs to me.

and that’s followed by this:

Penny. The general is making hard choices so we don't have to. For the good of all, not just a few.

in the penultimate moment before winter faces her crossroads, and this:

They won't change my actions. What I'm committed to. The power of the Winter Maiden and the Relic must be kept from our enemies. Even if it means she dies… But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we're on the right path. It's what makes us human.

when she resolves that her feelings do matter and that choosing is what makes people human, seconds before cinder fall enters the scene and forces winter to choose. all this culminates, of course, in “You chose nothing; this was a gift.”

how does the maiden of creation become? she must choose, not once but again and again.

similarly, cinder – aside from the obvious piece that her outward presentation is a carefully manufactured performance – is principally concerned not with choice but creation; the system that created her and the outward self she creates in retaliation. her manifesto in v3:

This is not a tragedy. This was not an accident. This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians, but are, in reality, nothing more than men. Our academies' headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both. They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here? One nation's attempt at a synthetic army, mercilessly torn apart by another's star pupil. What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the grimm can tell the difference. And what, I ask you, is Ozpin teaching his students? First a dismemberment, now this? Huntsmen and huntresses should carry themselves with honor and mercy, yet I have witnessed neither.

doesn’t explicitly reference creation, but it’s a precise outline of everything wrong with the system as cinder sees it, and her stage is a symbolic reenactment of what was done to cinder using the violent death of an artificial child – the literal creation of atlas – to drive the point home. this is neither a tragedy nor an accident – i am your creation. i am your consequences come due.

(cinder knows, from salem, that ozpin built these schools, that the huntsmen academies are his creation, and she placed pyrrha onto this stage to represent rhodes – and so there is a grain of truth in “what is ozpin teaching his students?” too. it’s a rhetorical question about the academies as a whole. huntsmen and huntresses should conduct themselves with honor and mercy: why and how did this system produce a man like rhodes?)

and in v5: ozpin corrects ruby from “the fall maiden” to “cinder,” and raven hears ‘cinder fall’ and scoffs that she is “a fall maiden with a surname so appropriate she probably picked it herself” – given her history, it is entirely possible that cinder named herself both cinder AND fall, and the juxtaposition of these beats is interesting – ozpin separating “cinder” from “the fall maiden” vs raven mocking cinder for (she presumes) naming herself for the power she coveted. both, in different ways, imply illegitimacy – that cinder isn’t the rightful fall maiden, that she is a pretender, that her claim on this power is somehow false.

but cinder fall is in fact the fall maiden because she worked very hard to create cinder-fall-the-fall-maiden – from her semblance to dust woven into her clothing to the twofold attack separating and then recombining the magic within herself, which i think may have something more to it than merely trying to eliminate the risk that amber might divert the power to someone else. and then there’s the grimm arm, and this exchange:

RAVEN: Aura can’t protect your arm, it’s grimm. You turned yourself into a monster, just for power. CINDER: Look who’s talking.

juxtaposed with the narrative ambiguity regarding a) how much of a choice cinder had in accepting the grimm arm and b) if she did choose, why? (the presumptive reason is the same as the grimm beetle, but this is complicated by the symbolic role of grimm in cinder’s backstory, her moments of tenderness and identification with grimm, and the fact that she’s been habitually using the grimm arm to siphon aura, not magic.)

choice (and lacking choice) are very central to cinder’s character arc, of course, but why is she the maiden of choice? why did she want to be the maiden of choice? because to cinder this is a project of remaking herself into someone who is safe because she has power. ‘the maiden of choice’ is aspirational – that is who she is creating, and there is an inescapable hollowness to that identity because – say she succeeds – AND THEN WHAT?

she can create as many different versions of herself as she can dream up, but none of them will heal the wounds she’s trying to run away from – what she needs is to look inward and confront what she fears and what she wants, before she can choose who she wants to be. knowledge, then choice. always.

which, gestures at winter. lol. lmao, even.

[0809sysblings]

Amane, indoctrination, and gaslighting

and why voting Amane innocent would be the best course of action

I've been wanting to write a big post on Amane talking about indoctrination and such. Because I see takes sometimes that make it clear the person doesn't really... Get It.

Most of what I'll be explaining comes from my personal experiences growing up.

Additionally, most of what I say when it comes to outcomes (i.e. "If x happens, Amane will do y") will be based on the assumption that realism, not entertainment, is prioritized in the writing and that there are no major holes in our knowledge of what's going on. Theoretically anything could happen since this is a fictional scenario and we don't know everything when it comes to the world, the cases, and the characters. Not to mention my situation was nowhere near as extreme as hers. So although I probably have a better understanding of it than most people, I definitely can't claim that I know what she's gone through.

Personal anecdotes I add to better support my points will be in the small font (this!) since I don't want them to distract from the main text and so that they can be easily skipped for those who may be worried about being triggered. But if anyone needs plain text descriptions, I'll happily provide them!

!! TW for child abuse, religious abuse, and cults !!

I recommend skipping my personal anecdotes if more detailed discussions about these topics are a trigger for you.

At the heart of "good" (read: successful) indoctrination is gaslighting.

Since gaslighting has been one of the many psychology terms completely watered down and distorted by the internet, I will define it just so we're all on the same page!

Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation used to make the victim question their own sanity, sense of reality, or power of reasoning.

Basically, you can't trust yourself. You can't trust your thoughts, your feelings, your interpretations, etc. You become completely reliant on other people (usually specific people who are the ones doing the gaslighting) to figure out what's real/true or not.

Toxic/extremist religious groups like to take gaslighting a step further though. Not only do they make it so you cannot trust yourself to judge what is right or not, they may also teach you that what feels wrong is actually right. You can see where this can start to cause some issues lol.

Anything your gut may tell you that contradicts what the group/cult leaders tell you—"this is wrong!", "this is bad!", "I don't want to do this..."—must be ignored. Because those feelings and thoughts, according to the leaders, are actually the sinful part of you trying to lead the good and faithful part of you astray. They make you question yourself to make sure you never question them.

They will figuratively or literally beat this into you until your first instinct is no longer to listen to your gut and do what it says, but to dismiss it and do what it's telling you not to do. Existing becomes a chronic power struggle between your unconscious mind and your conscious mind. Unfortunately, the fact that you're struggling often then gets used against you as proof that you need to follow their teachings. Because if you're unhappy, then you must be doing something wrong. You just need to have a little more faith, dedicate a little more time to the religion/group, go a little harder into your duties... Only then will you feel better—feel more enlightened.

An integral part in making all this work is isolation. If you don't somehow isolate the members, they may figure out that they're being manipulated and abused.

Now, isolation doesn't always mean purely physical isolation (though Amane is being isolated physically to at least some capacity). Psychological isolation is almost just as powerful. An almost universal psychological isolation tactic used by extremist groups and cults is the "Us vs Them" mentality. We can see this being very prominent with Amane. A lot of things she talks about with regard to the cult involves an Us-vs-Them dynamic. There is "Us", the cult, and "Them", everyone else.

Personally, we were taught that those who weren't believers of our religion were out to get us or will, at the very least, get us hurt/killed somehow. We were told many people wanted us dead just for being believers. You had to be careful and watch out when interacting with non-believers; you couldn't trust them. God was constantly testing you via others, and you had to make sure you stayed faithful.

This in particular is why no matter if you vote guilty or innocent, that itself will not actually do anything to change her beliefs. Voting her guilty will not make her start to feel bad and then question her beliefs. Voting her innocent will not make her listen to us and then question her beliefs. If we make her have any doubt about the cult, that's just proof to her that what we're telling her is wrong and is just another "trial" from God for her to overcome. So, changing her beliefs should not be a factor considered when voting since it's completely irrelevant. Everything can be twisted to support the cult. That's just how it works.

I don't think any amount of punishment will make Amane "come to her senses". I mean... what could we possibly do to her that she hasn't already had to endure? Punishment will likely only escalate things even more. Not to mention that having a bit of a fascination with martyrdom isn't all that uncommon in those who have been religiously abused and indoctrinated. The threat of punishment may only serve to motivate her to double down on her beliefs and behavior. Not to say she wants and likes punishment. It's obvious she's both scared of punishment and wants it to stop. After all, that's most likely the motive behind the murder.

Even prior to Amane's age, I was already fantasizing about being a martyr. A part of me almost wanted to be killed for my religion and community. It was seen as something extremely admirable. The ultimate sacrifice, if you will. We were taught that if given the choice between saving yourself by denying your faith or letting yourself be hurt/killed by standing your ground, you should choose the latter. Of course, I also did not want that to happen at all. It scared me shitless. But we weren't allowed to be scared about that stuff. It was seen as questioning God and the religious authorities, which was completely taboo. So I had no choice but to "want" it.

Isolating Amane is the worst possible thing we could do to her. No one gets better from being isolated, and this goes double for people living in abusive environments. She's been isolated her whole life. The best thing for her would be spending time with the other prisoners without restrictions. The more time she spends around people who have no connection to the cult, the better. Trying to argue with those in cults about why they're wrong and why they are in a cult (because most don't even recognize they're in a cult due to the gaslighting, indoctrination, and stigma) will almost always backfire. The best thing to do is to just be there for them to have someone to interact with who is not a cult member.

The only reason I left the extremist religious community I grew up in was because I made a friend who was not affiliated with it. I don't think I would've been able to see that the conditions I was living in were Not Very Good without that friend. He didn't even really do anything to actively help me. Just learning more about the real world through him was enough to make me start looking closer at my life.

To vote her guilty would be to continue isolating her. Not just physically as the guilty prisoners get restrictions put on them, but it's also an inescapable psychological isolation. Innocent vs Guilty is just another Us vs Them dynamic.

I fear that, if she ends up guilty this trial, she will likely be voted guilty again in trial 3. Her aggression will probably only escalate as she feels herself becoming more and more cornered. And since I know many people are voting her guilty solely to make sure she doesn't hurt Shidou or other prisoners, I can only imagine what the voting will look like for her in trial 3 once she's forced to become even more aggressive to protect herself.

And tbh... I can't imagine that having a prisoner with 3 guilty verdicts will make for all that interesting of a story for them. Not that it would be boring, per se. But having variety would, in my opinion, be the most interesting and entertaining! So, if nothing else I've said has been able to sway those who vote her guilty, then think about the entertainment factor!

Please vote this severely traumatized 12 y/o girl innocent. We can give her so many secret cakes to eat.

[pacifymebby]

i fucking love all ur peaky blinders writings you do them so well!! i was wondering if u could write one of about the peaky blinders n a reader that’s involved in a mafia, yk she has power, she’s strong, not intimidating by men, doesn’t hesitate to point a gun at someone’s head

Aw lovely thank u i am v happy u enjoy my work its so lovely to here!! Im so new to writing peaky boys stuff so its cool to see people enjoying it <3 <3

Hope you like these x some of them are long, i guess i got carried away haha

Tommy

🌿He can tell there's something different about you, something dangerous, a different kind of higher class, the second he sees you..

🌿And when he learns who you are - a mafia princess - his mind is set.

🌿He has to have you... Not just once, but for keeps.

🌿It wouldn't just be startegically a perfect move, ot would also bolster his ego. This is a man who wants the whole world and to wed mafia royalty... That would be a pretty big chunk of the world.

🌿But it would be scandalous in many ways... Hes a politician, a sitting MP... And its no secret the corruption, violence and murderous tendencies of your infamous family. There would be no feigning innocence anymore.

🌿If he's going to be with you he'll have to do it with his whole chest, openly admit to his own corruption and wrong doing, he'd have to be the bad guy in the open...

🌿 And he'd have to play his cards right, he couldn't be playing games with you... He's fairly certain playing games will end with one of your bullets in his brain.

🌿 You're already used to the finer things in life so his wining and dining and usual tactics won't work on you. "Is all this supposed to impress me Mr Shelby?"

🌿Your family probably have tigers roaming the villa grounds you grew up in. You probably grew up alongside wild animals...

🌿 And youre supposed to be impressed by a country estate and race horses...

🌿 Actually the things that really attract you to tommy are these:

🌿🌿He's troubled, he fought in a war, one which your family watched and ignored... You secretly don't believe that the men in your family, know what its really like to be a man, fighting to protect the family... Though they tell you that's what they're doing all the time.

🌿🌿His roots, theres somrthing mysterious about it, the fact that he talks to his horses, the fact you've heard theres a gypsy curse on his head. It's more interesting to you than anything you've heard back in New York

🌿🌿 The fact that there was a time in his life when he had nothing, he actually clawed his way out of poverty...you were born into your riches, you've never really had to work for anything in your life, so youre in awe of the things hes won for himself.

🌿🌿 You also love the way he takes whatever he wants from the world, just snatches it up regardless of whether he deserves it or not. Youre hoping thats what he'll do to you. Steal you away from your family. Claim you as his own.

🌿But you wont admit any of these things to him, you play the princess personality up for all its worth because you like the idea of being the one thing tommy shelby can't have

🌿Tommys brothers think hes daft for even trying... They've seen you, heard rumours about you, they think hes way out of his depth... But tommy is determined

🌿 And one day when you finally give into the charm youd been resisting, you become the most feared couple... The mafia are secretly scared of your gypsy husband, they dont trust that he wont put a curse on them... And tommys family are terrified of you, the unpredictable, spoilt princess who will not hesitate to shoot someone dead just for looking at her funny.

🌿He can't tame you though and it concerns him, you probably make more trouble than its worth... You don't have the manners of the english and you refuse to learn them. Not even Tommy can teach you.

🌿 Calls you princess to patronise you, enjoys talking down to you and trying to put you in your place even if it hardly ever works. Showers you with gifts, and when he realises how drawn to his gypsy roots you are, he starts showering you with gypsy gifts, little trinkets hes carved for you himself, jewels with fine tales behind them, mysterious histories which capture your imagination.

🌿He likes to take you out on horseback to the middle of nowhere, lie down with you under the shade of a tree or on the bank if a river and tell you as many stories as he can, either from his childhood or gypsy tales you tell little children. Its his only way of getting you to calm down or behave yourself, of getting you to stop putting on that "fearless and fearsome mafia wife" personality.

Alfie

🐻Can't imagine you'd get on very well at first... If he realised his attraction to you he'd be angry with himself for thinking that way about a "wop"

🐻 He'd definitely try to ignore it... Which would be difficult because every time you were in a room with him you'd be little miss provocative, trying to get under his skin.

🐻 Youre not sure if thats because youre so used to all men falling at your feet that youre actively pissed off that this man wont... Or if its because you can see that he is attracted to you, but isnt acting on it (which would piss you off even more than the former) OR (and this is unlikely right, you would never!) perhaps you find him attractive. This slightly mad, older man who behaves as close to any mafia man youve ever met only rougher, not so well groomed. Hes a little gruff, theres something a little dirty about him...

🐻 Also youre a mafia woman... Youve been spoilt rotten your whole life by your father and brothers but youve never really felt the love of any of them... Youve only ever been treated like a possession by them... Which is a sure fire recipe for DaddyIssues™️

🐻 This gruff and slightly insane older man then, might be the only person who could ever be everything you ever needed...

🐻 But that discovery probably pisses you off even more, so its likely that in the moment went you realise what you really want from him, you raise your gun to his head, make him look down the end of it.

🐻 He's probably the only one of the peaky men who isn't actually scared of you, not because he doesnt think youre unpredictable and dangerous, but because hes not scared of death, hes looked it in the eyes one too many times to be scared of a "little girl" with a gun.

🐻 "Alright alright so youve got yourself a gun and youre not afraid to use it... You've come in here... To my humble bakery what i built up from absolutely fuck all... And you're waving that thing in my face like its fuckin christmas day and you just plucked it out of Santas fuckin sack..." "Did you get it for Christmas y/n? Did santa make it for you in the North fucken Pole?"

🐻 "You can pretend to be a mad old man all you like Mr Solomons but I'm not scared of old men..."

🐻 "Ohh well, thats alright then, thats good very good actually, cause see somet you might not know about me right? Im not afraid of little girls... Yeah?"

🐻 The remark would shock you a little, not much but enough to make you hesitate, and in that second of hesitation he could disarm you. Not that you'll ever make the same mistake again.

🐻 But this time he disarms you and pushes you back down onto his desk, takes your chin between his thumb and index finger so that you have to look him in the eyes. He can see how angry you are but he isnt deterred because he has control now and he knows he won't get that opportunity again for awhile...

🐻 "Looks like your daddy didn't teach you how to properly handle your weapons... Wouldnt make that mistake me... No, i, would, not." "And anyway, right... Somethin else i wanna know yeah... What kind of father yeah, what kind of fuckin father sends his little girl to the arse end of Camden Town to deal with his fuckin problems?" "You want my advice little girl, if i were you I'd stay right here, with this here mad old man... Cause i reckon he would know how to take care of you properly..."

🐻 So you have a choice, give into the feelings and desires which have been plaguing you since you first met him, or spit in his face and tell him you'd rather die... And this is a man who just might offer you deal or death, thats how much he's his heart and mind set on you.

🐻 "Oh and Tommy, Tommy my old mate, did i tell you, just a little warning yeah, and i know you wouldnt ever think about crossing your dear old friend right but... If that thought ever does come flittering and fluttering into your whimsical gypsy boy brain... Just remember, ive got Mafia connections these days right... So i wouldnt if i were you... "

Arthur

🍂 Shits himself when he sees you pull a gun on a man in one of the Shelby bars in London.

🍂 Arthurs been sent to keep control of them and here you are, a fucking woman... With your gun raised to the eyes of one of his patrons.

🍂 When he steps in "alright alright is someone gonna tell me what the fuck is going on here?" and you answer him cold and simple "This english pig called me a very unpleasant slur and that... Mr Shelby, i won't tolerate..."

🍂 You shoot the man in the head right there in front of everyone. Screaming errupts and chaos and panic set in but you just stand there, strong arm still outstretched. Finger still on the trigger.

🍂 Arthur just gapes at you in shock, hes never seen a woman shoot someone, the fact that youre so glamourous looking too... From afar hed have mistaken you for one of the toffee nosed london elites who usually come to dance and drink in his bars because theyve heard they are dangerous and riddled with gangsters.

🍂 But now it seems, he recognises that accent of yours, turns out youre the gangster.

🍂 "Sorry about the mess Mr Shelby," you give him a quick smile and knock the body on the floor with your foot and turn to leave.

🍂 "Well, hang on a minute love hang on a minute you can't just..." "let me stop you there Mr Shelby..." hes not heard that slanted italian american accent on a woman before but he likes it, "i ain't your love... And i can actually... The evidence is soaking blood into your beautifully varnished floor..."

🍂 He gets into a lot of trouble with Tommy for letting you slip off unpunished, for letting the whole thing happen in the first place...but arthur doesnt see how he could have done anything different.

🍂"You weren't fuckin there Tommy, you didnt fuckin see her..."

🍂 He spends a lot of time tormented with daydreams of you, wants to see you again because hes got it bad for you... Even has a particularly steamy dream about fucking you whilst you hold your gun to his head.

🍂 So when you come back to his bar not a week later with a little white flag you made yourself, hes stunned and speechless and he doesnt know what to say. You say youve come to offer him a peace offering, just between you and him.

Its a little white flag and a little vile of white powder which is his on the condition that he shares it with you.

🍂 So you end up getting high together and fucking, and recreating that hot and heavy dream of his.

John

🌼 Deeply suspicious of you, doesn't trust the italians. You aren't pleasant to eachother to begin with at all.

🌼 You refuse to call eachother by name, hes a "pikey" you're a "wop" and thats that. You resent eachother.

🌼 Which is a shame because Tommy only introduced you before the wedding as an act of mercy to his little brother...

🌼 When you walk down the aisle dressed in white, veil covering your scowl John feels his heart freeze.

🌼 Of course he can't be too unhappy, you are fucking stunning... Your olive skin, your long dark hair, theres something almost virgin Mary about you, especially when youre all in white and pure...

🌼 And you would be lying if you tried to pretend you didnt find the gypsy boy to be good looking. His freckles are cute. He's strong, bulkier than any of those italian boys that have been sucking up to your father hoping for your hand all these years. John looks like a man who might be able to handle you

🌼 But hes still a pikey and youre still a wop and you refuse to say a word to him the whole day of your wedding. You fucking hate your father and you fucking hate tommy shelby

🌼 And in the end thats what draws you and John together. Mutual resentment for the men who forced you together.

🌼 Consumating the marriage is intense... When youre alone together youre both pretty much pretending you don't want it, spitting insults at eachother, hate in your eyes as he backs you up against the wall and you tell him youd sooner die than let a fucking pikey get his hands on you.

🌼 Pisses him off "That can be arranged love don't you fuckin worry," the two of you reaching for your guns at the same time. Challenging eachother, neither one of you backing down, eyes locked, fingers on triggers.

🌼Until something overwhelms you both at once and you can't resist anymore. When you come together its violent and explosive. John enjoys the thought hes tarnishing you, taking your purity, vandalising your virginal self... And you enjoy being fucked against the wall, your hands squeezing his throat, choking him.

🌼 After this the dust begins to settle on your hatred for one another... Youre more united against Tommy and your father than you are against eachother. But you like to keep up the pretence. Its like a fun game you have, pretending to hate eachother then having intense the most intense sex when youre alone. Youre always trying to push the boundaries, testing eachother.

🌼 You still affectionately refer to eachother by your respective slurs but see if anyone else ever tried it... If anyone ever called you a wop, john would put a bullet in them quicker than lightnight, and if anyone ever insulted him for his blood, youd be the one firing your gun.

🌼 John enjoys the way people fear you, he likes having a dangerous wife by his side.

🌼 You like having a dangerous man by your side, one who isn't so sleezy and american and preocupied with their looks... You think hes a real man.

Bonnie

🍀 Poor sweet innocent boy has no idea who you are when he first meets you... And thats partly your fault because you do lie to him.

🍀Youre actually sick of people being so scared of you, you dont think they are really scared of you, you think they are scared of your father... Which isnt fair... Its making it impossible to find a man and pretty soon youre certain your fathers going to arrange your marriage to some sleeze in another mafia family for the good of the lineage anyway

🍀 When you meet Bonnie Gold after one of his fights which Ada Shelby snuck you into, he has no idea about your family, but you know everything about his... And you see one thing in him...

🍀 Escape. You don't want to be a mafia princess anymore. Like Ada you want to shed your family name and be your own person.

🍀 So when you're introduced after the fight you beg him to take you away, to help you dissappear. And him being naive and you being very fucking pretty, he's more than happy to oblige.

🍀 After his fight the two of you disappear together for several weeks, hes no idea of the trouble hes getting himself into, and youre naively trying to pretend this can last forever

🍀You love the nomadic life style, the not knowing where you'll be tomorrow or a week from now, the knowing that nobody can find you, that no one you meet knows a single thing about you. And you like the simplicity too...

🍀Bonnie can tell that youre hiding something from him but he isnt sure what and he trusts that youll tell him eventually... For you to be friends with Ada Shelby, for you to have been so desperate to get away from London... He knows that you have a darkness inside you... But like i said he trusts you... And he's seen a soft and innocent side to you.

🍀Over the weeks you spend travelling together you grow closer and closer. At night you sleep under the stars, wrapped up together in his big coat with a blanket over you both. In the morning you awake with the birds and he teaches you to hunt and to cook wild rabbit. You fall for eachother slowly. When you share your first kiss you feel guilty, you almost cry and he can tell youre upset.

🍀 "Don't be sad little dove, i know you're keeping secrets, i don't mind... You can tell me all your secrets when you're ready,"

🍀 When you return he takes you to meet his father, to tell him you want to be married, that youre in love which makes Aberama laugh. He thinks it hilarious because he can tell that his son still has no idea who you are.

🍀"Well miss youve certainly caused a lot of trouble without trying haven't you..." it turns out your father didnt take kindly to your disappearence.. The italians have been threatening the whole country trying to find you...

🍀 Bonnie is surprised, but quietly pleased... Not just with himself for having a mafia princess fall in love with him, but also because hes in awe of your defiance, this trick youve played on everyone including him... He thought you were sweet and innocent but here you are, a mafia princess whos brought the whole underground crime scene in britain to a grinding halt.

🍀 "Do you hate me Bon? I lied to you... Could get you fuckin killed? I understand if you never want to..." "Don't finish that sentence little dove," him hushing you, hand holding your cheek, thumb to your lips, "Don't need to finish that sentence," kissing you softly is the only answer you need.

🍀The first time he sees you pull a gun on anyone the man in question is your own father. Hes come to bring you home but you wont go... Bonnie is there as a peaky boy, standing with Michael and Isaiah watching and keeping his mouth shut. He knows hes dead if anyone clocks who he is. Your father threatens to kill every gypsy boy he meets until he finds the one whose stolen you... But you stand your ground.

🍀 "i wont lose my daughter to a fucking pikey..." "Then tell people I'm dead," you turn the gun on yourself your eyes locked with your father, your burning with defiance, a truly formidable lass, "I'd sooner blow my own brains out than continue to call you my fucking father..."

🍀 And its the fact he cant tell if youre bluffing that makes him back down. He gives in but tells you that theres no backing out, he'll tell the whole world youre dead, but you are dead, to him, theres no coming back. But you don't back down.

🍀"Your girls a fuckin terror Bonnie lad, hope youre going to tame her," Isaiah laughing eith Michael after the whole affair. "I fucken won't," Bonnies pretty much stubborn about that, he loves your defiance and hes proud cause he knows Isaiah and Michael are secretly terrified of you. Women who don't fear death are the most formidable creatures.

🍀 "You're incredible dove, that was incredible..." "but... You promise me now, you'll never point one of these things at that pretty little head of yours ever again..."

Isaiah

🐀Definitely bitten off more than he can chew. He's in love with you before he even realises whats happened to him.

🐀Doesn't know what to do with himself because for all his arrogance and confidence, he knows a girl of mafia blood is so far out of his league.

🐀Youre in London because your father has business with Tommy Shelby, and your father refuses to travel to the shithole which is Birmigham

🐀You came along for the legal drinking, the shopping and to see what all the fuss about "English" men was...

🐀And you don't think much of any of them at first... Most have them are a little ugly, badly dressed, dirty, with funny accents... And Isaiah has a funny accent but, he's good looking, and he has the cocky nature of any american boy youve ever met.

🐀He gets tasked with chaperoning you much to your delight... Less to your delight you know that one of your fathers men is trailing you too, just to make sure nothing bad happens, that this Peaky Boy doesnt try anything funny with you.

🐀You find it all bitterly amusing, youre a woman, not a mouse. If this Peaky Boy wants to try anything funny with you, just let him try, its you who will see to it he doesn't get very far...

🐀Although the idea of getting up to no good with an english gangster, one your father hates... Well its appealing to say the least. You're a bit of a brat, used to getting your own way, used to doing as you please and facing little consequences later...

🐀So you suggest to your new peaky boy that you both lose your dads man, you ask him to take you through the back streets until your fathers men can't find you... And isaiah knows he shouldnt but hes sensed the mood youre in and he cant pass up the opportunity to go too far with you. He wants to get into trouble with you... He has a feeling that Mafia girls fuck harder, more dangerously.

🐀"You wanna get into trouble Peaky Boy? My father will kill you for this? Aren't you scared?" "Not fuckin scared of anyone me sweetheart," "Fine, do your worst Peaky Boy..."

🐀It doesnt last too long because you don't have much time but its hot and heavy and rough... And its the best you've ever had, maybe thats just the adrenaline of knowing youre up to know good, the adrenaline of risking someone elses life for your own pleasure...

🐀And you do get caught, you suppose if you were being honest with yourself then you'd always known you would be.

🐀You get caught with Isaiahs cock still inside you, he's fucking you against the wall and youre not even being that quiet about it... your fathers man goes to shoot at Isaiah but you get there first, your shot killing your fathers man in a second...

🐀Isaiah is stunned, almost drops you but he doesnt want to dissapoint you so he tightens his grip, hes scared too, youre in so much fucking trouble and if anyone finds out what just happened Tommy will kill him before your father does...

🐀"Don't go soft on me Peaky Boy I'm only just getting started..." you practically growl, grinding your hips into his, and Isaiah isnt about to let you go, so he channels is fear and his amazement into fucking you twice as hard, growling to you about how much trouble youre going to get him into.

🐀But obviously its fucking worth it.

🐀You make him take you shopping afterwards and you return to your father with so many pretty dresses and shoes. A new red lipstick too.

🐀He obviously wants to know what happened, why his man hasn't returned with you and you speak before Isaiah can...

🐀"oh did you have someone following me daddy? We didn't notice anyone? Did you Isaiah?" the boy cant believe what hes hearing right now, youre asking him to lie not just to your father, but his own boss too... Still he does, after that day hes sure hed do anything you asked him to.

🐀You also make up a little story of your own, about how you were threatened by a man, someone tried to disresepct your dignity, you tell him Isaiah took his eyes for the insult and your father is quite satisfied that Tommys boy can keep you safe... So next time you want to go out, your father makes the condition that Isaiah has to go with you.

🐀Which you're quite happy with.

🐀"Youre gonna be the death of me love,"

🐀 So much of the time youre the one causing problems, getting yourself into scraps, because youre used to being a mafia princess, no one back home would dare say a word to you but over here so many of the men don't understand who you are... You wont stand for their shit

🐀So Isaiah does end up taking peoples eyes for you... Most of the time however its you that does the killing. Youre a real violent little brat it doesnt take much for you to decide to pull that trigger...

🐀Isaiah hasnt told any of his mates about what the two of you get up to when you get eachother alone... Its difficult for him to keep this to himself, usually he'd be bragging to high heaven about laying a woman like you... But he's keeping quiet because he knows it'll be you who kills him if he speaks.

Michael

☘️Meets you in America when hes been sent away by tommy... Hes harbouring that bitterness towards his cousin when he finds himself in dealings with the mafia on his brothers behalf.

☘️His life in America is good... He might not be there of his own free will, he might not be allowed to come back, but hes making it work, hes a feared gangster, a powerful and dangerous man

☘️And hes starting to get ideas above his station... Hes met you several times, youre always in his speakeasies drinking, getting snowed up and demanding Shelby gin on the house, your name affords you everything you want after all

☘️And he thinks you're another one of those pretty, espensive things he'd like to add to his collection.

☘️Youd be a real status changer for him, he could use you to win his feud with Tommy, finally be more powerful than his cousin...

☘️ And you're attracted to the brooding English man who runs this part of the city... He does dealings with your father so you know hes a real player in this game, hes dangerous too... And perhaps the only man arrogant enough not to fear the barrel of your fathers gun.

☘️Youve been going to Michaels bars and acting out, getting too drunk and causing fights because you want to get his attention. Its a childish way to attract a man but you know men like Michael Gray, you know that what they want is a possession, something they can tame, put in its place. Teach to be obedient. They like the challenge and secretly they like it when a woman threatens their ego and misbehaves.

☘️And you're right, youve read him like a book... He approaches you one evening at the bar and well, hes stern, hes aggressive, hes almost... Almost fucking rude to you...

☘️ "Miss y/l/n I'd like a word..." "Take your pick Mr Gray, how about two, fuck... Off..." "Don't test me love... You're going to come back to my office with me now, youre going to come quietly and then we're going to talk... And we can talk nicely or you can keep up with whatever this childish little act is alright? But you're going to come with me and we're going to have a little chat alright about the kind of behaviour which is and isnt acceptable in my establishment... "

☘️"Who the fuck do you think you are Mr Gray... Do you have any idea who i am?" "I know youre a little mafia brat with no manners... Anything else?"

☘️ Drags you by the wrist into his office where he practically pushes you down into a chair.

☘️ Stands before you and actually lectures you about your behaviour... About how he isnt going to stand for it anymore...

☘️" So whatre you going to do about it Mr Gray?" youre so cheeky, a real brat, but youre being provocative too... You know what you want from him and as you speak you open your legs just enough to catch his attention.

☘️ "So youre a whore as well as a brat are you?" this actually shocks you, you flush a little but youre idignant and you hold your ground. "Is that what you'd like me to be Mr Gray?"

☘️ He's going to teach you to behave, one way or another... And the only way he manages to is by fucking you into submission... Thats the only way he can get you to behave yourself for him, the only way he can make you beg his forgiveness...

☘️ Outside of the bedroom though youre still a spoilt brat and he doesnt help the fact, he buys you gifts, courts you properly, makes all the right moves on both you and your father

☘️Until eventually your father is convincrd that marrying you off to Michael Gray is the best business move he could possibly make.

☘️ So youre handed over to him on a silver fucking platter and though you pretend to remain defiant "Dont think this means I'm going to behabe myself Mr Gray..." secretly youre thrilled, this is exactly what you wanted.

☘️You want him to take you back to england with him, you want to meet the infamous Tommy Shelby... And when he finally takes you "home" dont be surprised hes showing you off like a pretty piece of jewellery...

☘️And should he really be surprised when Tommy catches your eye, when you realise that there are men more rich, more powerful and more dangerous than Michael Gray for you to persue.

☘️Threatens you, "you fuckin touch my cousin you little brat, I'll kill you..." but this jealousy, this new passion in him turns you on and so you find yourself caught trying to balance two men. Youre being selfish, youre taking everything you want, no matter who gets hurt.

Hope you liked them lovely ❤️❤️

[moonsorchid]

Rewatching ep.29 of Love Between Fairy and Devil

Part 1 - I tried to include my comments in one post, but again so many things happen in this episode

(spoilers ahead)

So we learn that DFQC didn’t drink the elixir that would prevent him from feeling Xiao Lanhua’s pain while she was in the cave. And we also get this wonderful speech: “Since we are to be husband and wife, we must stay together until death do us part for better or worse. Even though I cannot bear this trial for her, how can I let her suffer alone?”

At this point, they haven’t said “I love you” (as far as I remember, correct me please if I am wrong), they have barely shared any intimate moments, yet their love for each other is so deep and beyond conventional relationship milestones, that they are willing to go through all this suffering.

Awe Xunfeng, now you make me feel bad for saying all those bad things for you. You have a heart, I may like you from now on.

He truly worries for her (I did not remember this at all) I am sorry, Xunfeng :(

Xiao Lanhua remembers their moments together (their first kiss in the prison, how DFQC was cooling the dew water for her, how he kissed her underwater, how he saved her from the immortals, riding the dragon, DFQC making petals flow around her, trying to get her pin, teaching him how to smile, kissing on the bridge, watching the sunrise together) to endure the torture. I am melting

Can I just say that I love Shangque? His devotion and kindness to DFQC are admirable

I loooooove this scene where they acknowledge her as their Queen

Ok, Xunfeng, I take it all back. I love you, now. So happy he accepted her as his Queen. *I have a goofy smile on my face*

Uff, such a powerful scene when DFQC enters the room - the signs of exhaustion obvious on his face and the way he walks – and approaches her. His touch is so tender, the way he looks at her so sweet. I am dying, I love them so much

They are back in the palace and everyone kneels in front of their Moon Queen. So proud of my babies!

Look how happy Shangque is!!! So cute!

And what a shock for Changheng to realize that the Goddess he was engaged to is in fact Orchid.

How fast did I watch this the first time that I don’t remember her saying this? Poor Danyin :( I love her character development.

Ok, so Ronghao claims that the Moon tribe was the one that killed the 3000 heavenly soldiers. And the Emperor is like yes, I believe the prisoner, without investigating further, and I am going to start a war without any second thoughts.

Pausing to appreciate his calmness and beauty.

Um, excuse me, Ronghao, but you just started a war

Do you know how much I love sweet puppy dragon? He just gave Jieli a key to all his savings. I mean he is the purest, most innocent person in the world. He knows her, he knows what she’s like and yet he opens his heart (and his savings) to her, fully aware she might steal them and never look back. Because he wants to see the good in people. The cynical part of me thinks he is naive, but another part of me believes he is precious.

Haha Jieli is already thinking about opening a store with him. They are so cute together!

I mean look at how happy he is! 

See you in part 2 (hopefully soon, because I miss them already)

Also, you can use my post as a drinking game for the words "love" and "cute" :D

[animatorweirdo]

The woodborne witch

You had been gifted with magic and you have used that to protect your family and people for many years. However, you find yourself lost when you’re unable to confess your feelings to Maedhros, who had stolen your heart, especially when someone in the dark is on its way trying to get you. 

Requested by Anonymous

Warnings; mentions of violence in the past, magical mischief, crushing, pining, feelings left unknown, werewolves and kidnapping. 

-------------------------------------------------

The woodborne witch. That’s what they began to call you after many years of protecting your people from Morgoth and his creatures of darkness. It was a strange nickname since people often associated witches with evil, but for you– it was a title. 

You were a human born with magic. It was thought impossible for humans to be born with magic unless you had elven blood in your family, but you didn’t, so you were a strange hazard to humans and elves alike. 

The first time you used magic was when you were just an infant. You were playing with toy cubes, and your touch made them grow branches and cause plants to overgrow in the pots and through the floor. Your parents were shocked when they found their house covered in plants. It took them hours to cut the plants off and replace the flooring. 

They were worried that you were ill, but after testing your strange abilities with several objects. They were worried someone had placed a curse on you and decided to seek help from the elves of Doriath. It was a difficult journey for them as they had to get through the girdle of Melian and convince the elves to lend their ear. The elves almost turned them down till they witnessed your strange abilities. They then allowed your parents to get through and seek an audience with Melian, who was more familiar with the powers of nature. 

The Sindar were curious by their arrival in Menegroth and fascinated when your parents expressed their concerns to Melian and bore witness to your strange magical abilities. 

Melian was surprised because she had never seen or heard of the possibility of a human wielding magic, especially without having any blood relation to another being. But when you held her finger with innocent glee, she knew and felt the magical connection with you. She assured your worried parents that there was nothing wrong with you. You were simply born with a unique bond with magic. 

Your parents were relieved and worried as they knew nothing of magic, so they had no idea how to teach you to control your abilities when you grow up. Melian proposed that she would mentor you when you’re old enough to study. She also suggested you would come live in Menegroth for the time being. 

Your parents hesitated at the thought of sending their only child away, but they accepted the offer as they thought it would be for the best that you learned from people who knew about magic better than anyone. 

Your parents returned to their home village, and their people were glad to see them return and shocked when your parents shared the news about you wielding magic. They first felt anxious at the thought of you having powers because they knew what dark magic could do thanks to the past attacks from orcs. However, they warmed up to it as they saw you grow into a lively child. 

You were mischievous. You often used your abilities to prank people and sometimes steal pastries and treats from the local chef, who would always yell at you after finding traces of overgrown roots. They sometimes complained about your antics to your parents, but since you never went overboard or did any harm, you often got away with it. 

You liked being mischievous, but you often did good with your abilities and helped fix some items and walls made from wood. You even helped grow some herbs for the local healer. Those gestures made the villagers appreciate your abilities, especially when the day finally came when your parents were to send you to the elves. 

You were scared and begged your parents with tears in your eyes not to send you away to a place with weird pointy-eared people. They hugged you and assured you they were friends, and this one friendly lady would teach you how to use your abilities which didn’t convince you until they promised you would see them again and get nice things if you were brave and studied hard to use your powers. 

Wanting to make them proud, you sniffed in your tears, packed your things, and left with a couple of guides after bidding farewell to your parents, who waved and watched with tearful smiles as you left the village. 

It was scary to be outside your village without your parents, but the journey was quick, and you arrived at Menegroth. Your eyes were wide as plates as you looked around, and you felt terrified of everything so strange and seemingly humungous. 

You were brought to Melian, who greeted you with a kind smile. You felt comforted by her presence. She felt oddly familiar, and she explained you had met before when your parents had come to Menegroth to seek aid for you. You grabbed her finger, which allowed you to feel each other’s fea which helped her discover your magical connection, so that might have been why she felt familiar to you. You got comfortable rather quickly– even though her husband almost scared you to tears. You got yourself ready and started learning under her guidance. 

You grew a deep connection with nature and light. You even learned how to conjure fire and lighting, though your link with them wasn’t strong.  You tried to study hard even if some subjects did not interest you. You grew a liking for making different concoctions and finding other uses for herbs and things like salt, which some of the elves found strange.  

Living with the elves was different. They taught you their language and parts of their culture, even though it was hard to understand sometimes. They were patient with you and liked taking you to celebrations and feasts, which sometimes turned into a courtly drama. It wasn’t terrible though. You did make a couple of good friends who were like your odd older siblings. 

You grew used to living with the elves after a couple of years, and you sent letters to your parents from time to time, sharing news and well-being on how you were doing. You had grown into a young adult and become almost a master in sorcery. You had learned almost everything you could from Melian, and she was proud of your growth.

There were some things left to learn, but when you received news that your village had been under several attacks. You were worried about your parent’s safety and spoke with Melian about leaving to help them. She understood your concerns for them, and despite your instruction still pending, she decided to let you go. She gifted you with a wand she herself made from the oldest trees of Doriath and bid you farewell. 

You bid farewell to those you made friends with and made haste to your village. You arrived just in time to assist them with another attack that nearly destroyed them. Your parents were overjoyed to see you again and embraced you with tearful hugs. 

Your people celebrated your return, and they made you tell all about your time in Doriath. It was a joyful reunion. 

You had then remained with your people, protecting them from the attacks while continuing your studies. You kept in contact with Melian through letters and your old friends, who often sent their good wishes and questioned if you would visit them soon. 

It was tiring to stand against the orcs and other creatures of the dark. It was like there was no end to their coming. You asked Melian for a spell that could help protect the village, like the girdle that protected Doriath, and she helped you create a smaller version that was enough to keep them away– and it wouldn’t take too much of your strength. Magic had come easy to you. It was like your second nature that felt natural to wield as a defense. However, it was harder to maintain when challenged by a foe greater than you. Such stress often leaves you devoid of consciousness. 

Your human body was less tolerant of stress caused by magical use, so you had to be careful and watch how much magic you used. 

You have faithfully defended your home from Morgoth’s creatures. But when the attacks became more frequent, and the protective barrier around your home began to fail– you took the matter to your people and convinced them it would be for the best if you moved to another place where it would be safe and less likely to get attacked. 

Many were reluctant but listened to the reason. You all packed your things and started moving, aiming to take refuge in Himring for the time being. You have known its lord, Maedhros, for a long time as you have assisted each other in the past. He was glad to let your people stay for a while and help you find a safer home. 

You appreciated his help. He didn’t treat you like many others when they discovered your magic. You were used to people fearing you initially, but when Maedhros got over his first shock, he treated you like every other person and valued you as an ally, like you weren’t a strange freak of nature like many others thought. It made you treasure his acceptance. 

You have heard about the deeds of his house– you almost found it hard to see him as the ruthless kinslayer everyone made him out to be especially when you started to grow somewhat infatuated with him. 

Maedhros was one of the tall elves you have seen, right next to Elu Thingol. His noticeable scars and cold exterior intimidated people, but you were not bothered by any of that. On the contrary, you found him very attractive. However, the softer nature behind his impenetrable facade was the thing that pulled you to him. 

He wasn’t always scary and kinslayer-like. With time he only got more relaxed around you when you started seeing each other often. Hidden behind that strong-willed front was a gentle ellon, who showed his care through subtle actions. You guessed it must have been that which made you like him more than you should. 

You thought it was just a temporary crush and it would be gone in a month or two, but it persisted, making you frustrated because there was no way you could be with an elf. 

You wielded magic, but you were still a human, and you would eventually die from old age while elves remained bound to Arda. And you have met a couple of his brothers who didn’t seem to think highly of humans, so you didn’t see Maedhros willing to love a human. You also believed he thought of you as nothing more than an ally he could turn to for help. 

You stopped to take a breather, to think about how everything would turn up for you and your people. Maedhros had helped you point out a place that was nicely away from the north, near the sea. The dark lord’s influence did not reach far, so orcs should be less on those parts. It was a days’ journey, but your people would be safe and live more peacefully when you create your new home there. 

The downside, it was far away from Himring. The distance was large, so there wouldn’t be any sense in traveling there and back just to keep up with an alliance. It would be more practical to end it there, so this might be the last time you see Maedhros again. It made you feel rather glum when you thought about it. 

Your mother had tried to encourage you to confess your feelings when she learned about them, but you ignored her words instead of focusing on your work and duty to protect your people from the orcs and creatures of darkness. However, when you thought you should let your feelings be known to Maedhros. You might never have the chance to say them, but this might be a chance to get rid of them because either way– it would have never worked out. 

“(Name),” You heard someone say your name. You turn your head and see the elf approaching you. You collected yourself and prepared to talk to him formally. 

“My lord, is there anything you need?” You asked with a respectful bow from your head. 

“(Name), I told you that you can drop the formalities when we’re alone, and no. I simply wanted to check on you since you seem to be under the weather, so–” Maedhros started. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked. 

You unintentionally let out a loud sigh while relaxing your shoulders. “It’s just— moving. We’re going to have a long journey ahead of us, and I can’t stop thinking about if something goes wrong,” you explained. “I have been having a hard time falling asleep as well. There are just a lot of things to do,” you said. 

Maedhros looked at you softly. “Do not think about it too much. You should rest as much as you can, and you do not need to worry about anything going wrong,” he explained. “Nothing will happen to you and your people as long as you’re in Himring,” he said. 

“I know, but it’s not just that or the current attacks,” you said. You took a deep breath before finally mustering the courage to tell what was really bothering you. 

“Sauron has become active lately. His werewolves had harassed us till we came to Himring,” you explained. “I do not know his sudden motivation to catch me, and I prefer not to find out. The only reasonable explanation is that he was ordered to, even though his attacks had been strangely relentless. I almost fell into his traps a couple of times if it wasn’t for someone looking out for me,” you explained. 

“We are safe from him for now, but I can’t stop worrying if he suddenly decides to attack us on the road,” you said. You held on to your arm, trying to stop yourself from shaking at the thought. It was a habit when you were nervous or anxious. 

“I know how you feel–” Maedhros started, grabbing your hand and gently rubbing it with his thumb, which managed to soothe your nerves. “ And trust me. I know better than anyone what Sauron can do, but I can assure you that he will not try anything beyond the borders of his master’s lands. It would be too risky for him to do anything, especially when this route is on mine and one of my brother’s lands.” He explained. 

“He will not get to you. I promise you that,” he said. 

“I trust your word,” you smiled at him before looking down and seeing how he was still holding your hand. He let go when you noticed, and you almost smiled again, little heat rising to your cheeks. 

You heard your parents suddenly call out for you, telling you it was time to depart. 

“I think this is a goodbye. I do not think we will have a chance to work together in the future,” You said. “It was my honor, knowing you, (Name),” Maedhros said. “Likewise, Maedhros,” You said and then began to walk to your parents. 

You and your people packed your things and began to leave Himring. You saw Maedhros one last time as he stood at the doors, sending you off on your journey. You looked back at him. He looked strangely sad as he watched you walk through the gates to find your new home. 

You walked on the road alongside your mother, holding on to your horse’s reins while your father rode in front, leading everyone through the path. Your mind was occupied with thoughts, leaving you with a blank expression as you stared into the nothingness that stretched in front of you. 

“You know, my dear. You should have told the elf,” your mother started. You turned to look at her, confused. “What do you mean?” You asked. “You know what I mean. You should have told him about your feelings,” she explained. 

“Oh, that? It doesn’t matter anymore, and besides– it would have been awkward having a rejection as our last memory,” you said. Your mother snorted. “I might be getting old, but I can still tell how people feel– no matter how much they try to hide it. He wouldn’t have rejected you. He was looking at you the same way your father once did when he was too shy to come to talk to me,” she chuckled at the memory while your father coughed in embarrassment. You could not help but smile for that brief moment. 

“Even if he did feel the same. It wouldn’t have worked out.  He’s an elf who will live thousands of years, while I will only live up to my ninety.” You explained. 

“Now that you mention that. I have noticed that you haven’t been aging much by the looks of it,” your mother said. “You’re almost thirty years old, yet you are not showing any signs of age. Do you think your magic might have something to do with it?” She asked. 

“I–” you started, thinking about it for a moment. “--don’t think so. I have a lot of years, so let’s not start theorizing that I might stop aging like a normal human,” you said. “Well, it could be a possibility since you already wield magic, so who knows if you turn elf-like and live more than a hundred years,” your mother said. 

“However, you should have told him,” she said. “You might have regretted it less if you told him than kept them hidden forever,” 

“Hmm–perhaps,” you replied, imagining what would have happened had you confessed your feelings to Maedhros.  

The journey was long, and when the night came, you and your people settled down to make a camp for the night. The moon graced the sky with its light, and the stars twinkled. The owls and the grasshoppers filled the night with their songs as you sat brooding about your mother’s words. 

Your father arrived, adding wood to the mellow campfire before sitting down beside you. He glanced at you and saw how deep you were in your mind through your eyes. 

“Is there something wrong, my girl?” Your father asks, breaking you from your reverie and making you look at him. “It’s…nothing,” you replied. 

“Are you sure? You have been quiet ever since we left Himring, and your silence has only grown since you’ve talked about your feelings for that elf with your mother,” he explained. You remained silent, feeling lost for being caught like that. 

You let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” You stated. “Maybe I should have confessed my feelings to Maedhros,” you answered, feeling somewhat gloomy about the lost opportunity. 

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, but– who knows, maybe fate will be strange and give you a chance to see him again,” he said. 

“It could happen since fate gave you to us, and we went on that journey to find the elves in the forests of Doriath just to discover you possess magic.” He said, then laughed. “I can still remember how you cried when you saw the gray-haired elf king and wouldn’t stop till he was out of the room,” he continued laughing. You chuckled, feeling embarrassed at your past self’s actions. 

“Well, lord Thingol still gave me the scares when I lived in Menegroth,” you reminisced. “I think he would definitely be the one to discourage me from sharing my feelings with Maedhros,” you stated. “Who cares what he would have thought? What matters the most is that you do what you feel is right and makes you happy,” your father said, looking at you with a comforting gaze. 

“But if it upsets you that much– I might as well send you back on a horse so you can finally get it over with,” he said, making you snort with a red face at the thought. 

“Thank you, dad. You always knew how to lighten up the mood,” you smiled. “Just doing my duty as your father,” he smiled and then looked behind you before letting out a scoff. 

“Children! Stop running around, and don’t go into the woods!” He called as you saw three children run into the forest. “Seriously! Those children are either deaf or filled with nothing but trouble. And– of course, Charlie just has to be one of them. His parents are going to nag me if he gets into trouble,” your father muttered under his breath, ready to get up. You beat him up. 

“I’ll go get them. They couldn't have gotten too far,” you said, then proceeded to walk toward the woods where you saw Charlie and his friends go. “Alright, be careful,” your father said as he watched you leave. 

Twigs and sticks crunch under your boots as you walk through the forest. You carefully push the branches and bushes out of your way as you try to spot the children. The light from the moon and the camp were enough to illuminate your path, so you didn’t see a need to use your wand to conjure light. 

You follow the footprints on the ground and eventually find the trio standing in the opening, staring at something. 

“Charlie! Jenna! Markus! What are you doing?” You called out to them, but they didn't respond. They kept staring into the dark. You had a strange feeling, so you walked closer to them till you stood right next to them. 

“Kids!” You said and finally caught their attention. “What are you guys doing? You know your parents get worried if you play alone in a place like this,” you questioned. They looked back at you in confusion before finally answering. 

“Sorry, (Name). I don’t think we know how we got here.” Charlie said, making you frown at his answer. “What do you mean you don’t know how you got here?” You asked the confused trio. 

“We were at the camp playing, then we started hearing these strange voices.” Charlie explained. “And now we’re here,” He added. 

You frowned when he mentioned voices. “What did the voices sound like?” You asked, crossing your arms. “Like someone whispering, telling us to come here.” He explained. 

You tried to think of an explanation until you heard something snap behind you. You look back to find nothing, yet you feel like being watched by something, something sinister. It gave you an awfully familiar feeling. 

You backed away, urging the children to follow your example, and they backed away while staring at the darkness with you. “What is it?” Jenna asked with a frightened voice. 

As you carefully observed your surroundings you started hearing noises like something moving in the bushes. It wasn’t just one, but several. 

“Get back to the camp,” you whispered frantically, taking out your wand. You silently muttered a spell, and an orb of light conjured from the tip of your wand– lightening the area around you. Several giant werewolves looked right back at you from the bushes. You noticed some others from your peripheral vision that your naked eyes wouldn’t have been able to spot in the dark. Your heart dropped, and the children gasped as they stared at the werewolves with fear in their eyes. 

“Run!” You said and the children screamed. They turned around and began to run back toward the camp while you whipped your wand around your head, aiming the orb of light at the werewolves. It struck right into one of the werewolf’s faces, causing it to explode into a flash of light. They yelped, staggering and blinded. 

You took the chance to escape and follow the children back to the camp. 

The camp was just behind the corner, but before you had a chance to take another step. You got engulfed by a cloud of darkness. You stood frozen with fear. Your heart began to pound harder against your chest as you tried to find a way out– you then sensed something familiar or rather someone. 

You forgot how to breathe when you saw something move, but before you could do anything to defend yourself. A hand grabbed you by the throat. You stared right into the eyes of someone you had tried to escape. Those golden flaming eyes flickered, and you screamed until everything turned dark. 

Maedhros was writing down on the paper with his quill, silently signing the document before taking another to get signed. The candle on his desk has long burnt. The sun rose in the distance, and the cold wind flowed into his chambers, making him sigh and drop his quill for a short break. 

He rubbed his brows after spending the whole night doing paperwork. It was normal for him to work through the night since elves can last long without rest, but for some reason, he has not been able to focus. His mind keeps coming back to you. 

He hoped you were doing alright and you had reached your new home. He felt anxious when you mentioned Sauron, but he was confident the route was safe, so you should be safe.

However, he couldn't explain the disappointment he felt watching you leave with your people, knowing he might never see you again. It was a new feeling, just like when he realized how much he enjoyed being around you. You were confident and self-reliant, which he found admirable. He reminisced your first meeting the way– you planned, the way you made your people listen to you like a leader while being rather casual and shy in person made him yearn for your company even more. 

He was in love with you. It was that obvious, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you because you both lived in different worlds. You were unique for a human, but you had your duties to your people while he had his. And he possibly couldn't bring you to a mess which was his oath. He didn’t want to hurt you like that, so he said nothing. 

All he could wish for you now is that you live a happy life while he continues opposing Morgoth. 

He hears the door creak and sees his brother peeking in. “Have you worked the whole night?” Maglor questions, walking in without an invitation. “These papers needed to get done. I can handle one night without rest,” Maedhros picks up the quill. “Perhaps that is true, but rest is still important dear brother mine,” Maglor says, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. 

“You know you should have told her,” Maglor started. “What do you mean?” Maedhros asked, making Maglor chuckle. “You might be able to hide your feelings from anyone but not from me, dear brother.” He explained. “I’ve seen the way you looked at her. If you told her and let her know of your feelings, it might have lessened the heavy feeling you’re feeling now that she’s gone.” He added. Maedhros stood quiet, staring at his brother, who looked back at him. 

The two brothers then hear knocking on the door. “My lord, I bring you urgent news!” The messenger called out behind the door. Maedhros dropped his quill. “Come in.” He stated as the door opened.

“What seems to be the matter?” Maedhros questioned as the messenger stood in front of him and his brother. “My lord –” The messenger bowed his head. “Lady (Name) and her people got attacked on the road last night,” he answered, making Maedhros almost jump from his seat. “By whom?” He asked, almost demanding. “It was apparently the werewolves, and that’s not all– lady (Name) had gone missing,” Maedhros felt his heart drop when he heard that. “Missing?” He questioned, almost in disbelief. 

“She had vanished without a trace. Her people are asking for your help in the search for her.” The messenger explained. 

“Maedhros?” Maglor looked at him after he stood quiet for a moment. 

“Get the horses ready. We’re going to see (Name)’s people,” Maedhros stood up and left his chambers in a hurry. Maglor followed right behind, trying to keep up with him. 

The Horses whined and galloped till Maedhros and Maglor reached your people, who were in disarray and trying to clean up what seemed to be an aftermath of a fight. Maedhros saw some of the men dragging the bodies of the werewolves into piles to be set on fire, he heard children crying while their parents tried to comfort them. 

All the noises and the sight made him anxious as he rode till he found your father trying to comfort your crying mother. She was loudly sobbing as she held something against her chest. 

Maedhros was about to say something till his horse whined, and it caught your parents’ attention. 

“Lord Maedhros!” Your mother almost screamed as she stood up and ran to him, your father following behind. Maedhros jumped down from his horse and almost stumbled back when your mother grabbed his cloak with pleading eyes. “Please help us! We can’t find (Name) anywhere!” Your mother cried as he tried to help her keep steady. 

“Please, could you give me closer details on what happened?” Maedhros asked, and your father stepped in. “They…came out of nowhere. I was talking to (Name) at the bonfire last night until I saw three of my people’s children running into the woods. She decided to get them, but then we heard the children scream, and the werewolves attacked us. We managed to fend them off, but then I heard (Name)’s scream…and she was gone,” He explained, then turned toward your mother. 

“We tried to look through the whole forest, but the only thing we found was her wand, broken and tainted in this strange dark matter.” Your mother handed him your wand, which was snapped into two pieces. Maedhros felt dread settle in when he laid his eyes upon it. 

“Can I see it, please?” He asked, and your father handed your wand to him. He took a closer look and saw dark veins-like things covering the wood, which was an obvious sign of corruption. He had seen it before. It did not take him long to realize who was behind the attack and your sudden disappearance. It was enough to make his heart stop in fear for your safety and well-being. 

He was almost in denial, but he could not ignore the truth no matter how much he wanted to. It made him feel horrible since he was so adamant, he was the one who assured you that you would be safe. He was wrong… you were gone, in the hands of the worst being on the face of Arda. 

“He got her–” He silently uttered under his breath. “Who?” Maglor questioned, and Maedhros turned to look at him. “Sauron…he got her,” Maedhros said his voice cracking in despair.

Taglist: @heilith

[vendetta-if]

Baby!ruthless!MC being those little red flag kids that are super adorable and sweet but then ask disturbingly gory/violent questions that leave the recipient just staring at them awestruck while the child blinks up at them innocently because they don’t realize how fucked up the thing they just said was.

Like the he’s just a little guy! Oh, he’s a little fucked up actually meme.

Scenario: Cute baby MC sitting with their most favouritest Gramdma ever, maybe brushing her hair or feeding her warm soup or just giggling and hugging her and then suddenly lacing their chubby little fingers with hers and saying in those choppy sentences that young children speak in when they are still learning how to pronounce certain sounds/words “I heard! that if the you get toooo cold that you can get fah-rost-bite and your fingers and nose and toes all fall off! It’s super painful, I think! Have you ever done that Baba Alina? Have you ever made somebody so cold you just snap them right apart? Have you snapped off somebody’s arm? Have you ever fah-rost-bited somebody’s neck off their shoulders, Baba Alina?” The rest of the family just looks at MC and each other in concern but MC is just blinking like they asked why the sky is blue.

Alternative scenario: Cute baby MC asks Grandpa if he ver commanded some to hurt/kill themselves or their loved ones, Grandpa just eyes Viktor because he knows his son would want him to lie or change the subject, but MC is just looking him like he hung the moon and he’s torn, but then MC adds “if you didn’t, it’s kinda a waste” and it becomes very obvious that yes this is his grandchild

Ruthless MC is my baby girl(gender neutral) I love then so much if you t tell

Aww that’s kinda cute, but also as you said, fucked up 😆 But really, such ruthless MC is lucky to be born in the Morozov family then where all of the members are just as or close to that level of ruthlessness. Yes, even Viktor. He might be kinder but make no mistake, he’s capable of being really ruthless to people who hurt or put the people he loves and cares for in danger.

For sure, they would all be surprised and shocked, but it won’t be long until they are used to it. Viktor would probably try to teach MC that they can’t just say those kinds of things to just anyone. If it’s him, Grandpa, Grandma, Luka, Ash, Cara, and Rin, then it’s okay 😩 Viktor just mostly doesn’t want MC to say those stuff to the wrong people and they think and treat MC as a weirdo (also, worried that it might not end well for them 😂).

Grandma would be surprised for a second, before booping MC’s nose lightly. They’re still soo adorable. “Well, I did turn someone into an ice sculpture once, although I didn’t immediately ruin it. It’d be a waste, wouldn’t it? How about I show you what kind of other pretty stuff I can make with my power?”

Grandpa would be staring at MC with a glint of pleasant surprise in his eyes. “I can already see you making me proud in the future,” he says, patting MC’s head fondly. “The answer to your question is yes. Sometimes, examples need to be made to spare us more work in the future. One day, I’ll teach you more about it, yes?”

[synergysilhouette]

...I just made more work for myself

This is a rough draft for....something. That's all I'll say for now. I may change A LOT later.

Once upon a time in a small village on the edge of a prosperous kingdom rich in romance and tradition, there was a young man who believed there was nothing more important than the power of wishing. As he grew, he soon wanted to venture into the world, and while his parents begged him not to go, they eventually relented, and wished him well.

The young man came upon an elderly fairy, who blessed him with the power of magic and promised to teach him to control it if he denied himself the wish within his heart. The young man was mystified by this request, and he turned rebuffed her request, claiming he could learn to control his newfound abilities without the need to give up a piece of his heart. The fairy placed a rose tattoo upon his shoulder, warning him not to be short-sighted, and that by giving up his own wish, he could save the wishes of others:

"Give to me what you cannot live without,

And you shall become a master without doubt.

But reproach me, and you'll regret it.

You've condemned us all; never forget it."

But his naivete of the world convinced him that she had ill intentions, and he left her. On his journey home, he met a young woman crying by the river. He asked, "What is wrong, beautiful maiden?"

To which she replied that she was the princess of the land, and that her father had been overthrown by his brother and subsequently imprisoned. Only by abdicating her right to the thrown could she save her father.

The man gave a kind, hearty laugh, for on his return, he found that he could perform many magical deeds because of the fairy's gift. He offered to save the king, and the princess thanked him. As they returned to the kingdom, the couple fell in love, and married right before the young man approached the treacherous uncle.

The magical man offered the not-yet king a chance to surrender, to which he turned down. The man prepared himself to defeat the king and the army, but when he as he felt the power course through his veins, the magic he summoned not only attacked the king and his minions, but the man and innocent bystanders as well.

The young man soon realized the truth behind the fairy's words; a lightning bolt split and killed the princess' father. The uncle took advantage of this and disappeared in the chaos with some of his most trusted warriors, escaping into the small village that the young man had once called home. Shortly after arriving, he heard of a young man who had left years ago to learn the ways of the world. The uncle threatened the villagers to tell him where the man had learned magic, but no one knew what he spoke of.

In a rage, the king and his small band of destroyers razed the villagers, like ravenous wolves, consuming everything in their path. The young man soon returned to find the uncle and his army waiting, and in his rage, killed them all, his powers obeying him for once. He grieved the loss of his family and friends while the princess watched him with anger, for it was his own foolishness that had ruined them both. But as he knew grief as well as she, she did not leave him when he ventured to find the fairy once more.

They did not find the same fairy again, but a different one in their path. She told them that she could not help the man control his power, for she did not gift it to him, but if he so wished to control it, and if his wife wished for such powers as him, then they must become the nightmares to people's dreams, taking hope and wishes from those who offered them.

The man was going to refuse her as he did the first fairy, but his wife gave him pause, telling him that by gaining power via meaningless dreams, they could protect significant dreams, and that in the end, it would be a better world for it.

So the young man submitted to his fate, stealing wishes with his wife from unsuspecting people throughout the realm until they had amassed enough power to create their own kingdom. They named it Rosas, after the rose on the man's shoulders, and they abandoned all parts of their pasts, becoming known as King Magnifico and Queen Amaya, the saviors of the world for their ability to grant wishes.

But fate has a cruel way of revealing itself, for many years into their reign, the monarchs gave birth to a healthy baby boy with eyes that gleamed with stars. The king and queen realized to their horror that their son had the natural ability to grant wishes, no magical contracts or training required, and they thought of the destruction that had been caused by the Queen's uncle in his selfish quest for power. They knew that if the prince's powers were ever revealed, he would be coveted, or even feared. As such, they kept him within the castle for many years, and the people of Rosas could sometimes see glimpses of a pair of stars behind the castle walls. It had never occurred to them that a star had fallen to Earth.

[bowandcurtsey]

(Edit request and thanks for the advice. I'm asking William X F!reader AU whose son is a without magical child and reincarnated controller devil like Nayuta) (y/n is pregnant with his youngest son for the first time and he He was well cared for because he was a weak child and had withou magic from birth s/n At the age of 3-4 he unconsciously displayed demonic powers with his eyes changing. The next story can be anything as long as Aine is the author) ( hope you can read what I translated 🙇‍♀️

{1700 event}

AU: Chainsaw man-ish, black clover-ish AU (it didn't really specify for which au, so i'm doing a hybrid)

Hi lovely bby, so I've finally come to this request after a long time, I'm really sorry and thank you for waiting.

I actually don't watch chainsaw man, so I've done a little bit of homework here and did a little bit of summary for the rest of the readers as well.

The control devil is able to "control" other beings; altering their memories, using their senses

A devil can also make contract with humans, they have supernatural strength, and keen senses.

So yeah, the control devil is super dangerous and op. x.x Sounds like someone super troublesome...

I'll be doing a continuation to the above story, with a mix of some drabble and hcs

Characters: William Vangeance x f! reader, son: s/n tw: pregnancy

"William," the both of you stared at s/n, "did you see that?"

"yes, honey." he said calmly and quietly.

Then it happened again, right before your eyes, s/n's eyes flashed a hue of black while he stared at your border collie, sushi.

There was a glint in the dog's eyes and he proceeded to bring s/n his favourite fireman truck, like a puppet being controlled.

Awhile later, Sushi shook his entire being, as if snapping out of his trance and went running away.

"I'm calling Julius and Marx."

-----------

After Julius and Marx examined him, they broke the news to you and william that s/n was a reincarnation of the control devil, Makima. It probably happened because while you were pregnant with s/n, you were possessed by Makima during the Devils war.

"what should we do now," you sobbed, "this is all my fault."

William caught you just as you were slipping onto the ground, "honey, you're pregnant, please... don't blame yourself like that."

"I am to blame for not being able to protect my wife and son." he consoled you, stroking your hair.

"if he can control her powers and you guys can teach her from right and wrong, then being a devil might not be a bad thing." Julius consoled the both of you.

"A devil cannot remember their memory of their previous life, and s/n does not remember any thing about Devil Makima. It's just that I was able to get access to his past life memories with my powers," Marx explained.

"The devil Makima wanted a real relationship with people she loved and cared about," William recalled, "she just didn’t know how, since she was used to controlling people to do whatever she wanted”

While you were possessed by the devil back then, William did a lot of research and studying about the control devil. Just like Liebe, not all devils are bad and they can coexist with humans.

“I’ll do whatever it takes…” you held s/n in your arms, caressing his cute and innocent face.

————————

You were due soon. Your second child was about to pop anytime. You were getting restless, your body was tired and you wanted this baby to come out asap.

No matter how exhausting your day was, you would always bring s/n out for walks during the evenings. He loved the nature, just like his father.

And today, he wanted to go out of the noble realm. It wasn’t a problem usually, but you were heavily pregnant and William was not around, so you were a little hesitant..

“But mommy,” s/n tugged at your hand, “it’s been so long we went to visit Uncle Yami!”

At the thought of being with the black bulls, it made you feel better, if you couldn’t handle anything, the bulls could help you.

“Alright, let’s go get changed sweetie!”

———————

“Mommy!” S/n pointed at a nearby village when you were midst air en route to the black bull’s base, “i want cotton candy!”

One of the common realm was having a carnival and the bright colours of the cotton candy attracted your son.

You were slightly thirsty, so you decided to take a little break.

Just like any little kid would, s/n was fascinated by all the stores and fuss of the carnival. You looked at your son’s happy face, you felt that everything was worth the while.

*BANG*

A loud noise came from the other end, and shouting was heard. You instinctively pulled your son close.

People were running and flying away, and the carnival was in chaos. The animals in the carnival had gone wild and were in a rampage, attacking anyone they saw.

Someone bumped into you hard, and you felt something in your belly constrict. You were holding onto your belly in pain and grasping onto s/n, in case he went missing in the chaos.

A feral rhinoceros came charging at the both of you, the pain in your belly made you feel so weak, you could barely pull up a barrier around you, so you could only muster up any strength you had to shield s/n from the danger.

The Rhino came to an abrupt stop right before you. It was so close, you could even hear its breathing. You looked up to see the Rhino's face right in front of you, but it's eyes were pitch black, as if possessed.

You looked at s/n, his eyes were glowing while staring at the Rhino. He was controlling the Rhino!

"Hey baby, tell Mr Rhino to calm down and go home, please?" you quietly whispered to s/n.

"ok mama." he answered, and in a few seconds, the Rhino calmed down and turned around. His eyes slowly turned back to his original colour as he looked at you, smiling and clapping to himself, as if he was proud of what he did.

"Good job baby," you hugged him, "mama's so proud of you. Let's call daddy right now ok? Mama's a little unwell."

You looked at your 3 year old, deep down, you were a little scared of his devil powers, but at the same time, proud of him. You told yourself you would do anything in your power so that he would be a good devil, just like Liebe.

[kirwond]

Fate Spins Along As It Should

A playlist for Baldur's Gate 3, following characters and events for the game.

Notes from the game, cover art from BG3 concept art.

Listen at Spotify.

Even more playlists here.

Tracklist and notes below the cut.

Help I'm Alive - Metric

Narrator: As you wake, the tadpole squirms in your skull.

Army Of Me - Bjork

Lae'zel: Who am I? Your only chance of survival. Now move. You are wasting time.

The Wolf - PHILDEL

Shadowheart: Most people fear the dark, like children, because in darkness they see their fears reflected. But Shar teaches us to step beyond fear. Beyond loss. In darkness we do not hide - we act.

Icarus - Bastille

Gale: "What if," I thought, "What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess?" You know me. My gestures can never be grand enough.

The Devil Is A Gentleman - Merci Raines

Astarion: On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - Emily Browning

Dream Guardian: There is great potential in you. It comes from that parasite. Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it, nurture it. I will keep it from consuming you. But for the sake of both of us, you must learn to wield it.

I Am The Fire - Halestorm

Karlach: Avernus was never my home. It was my prison. I'm free now. AND I'M NEVER. GOING. BACK.

Woke Up A Rebel - Reuben and The Dark

Wyll: Gods damn her straight back to the Hells. Just look at me. I did what was right. And Mizora made me pay for it.

The Curse - Agnes Obel

Halsin: There is a terrible curse surrounding Moonrise Towers, a shadow curse that drains away all light and life. That place is where the cultists send their captives, to be infected. Innocents go in, True Souls come out.

Don't Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

Gale: The truth is, I was living on borrowed time already. Consuming those items would only have kept the orb sated for so long. If anything, I feel more at peace than I have in months. At least I know my death will have purpose. It won't be a distant bang in the footnotes of history.

Queer - Garbage

Astarion: He had me go out into Baldur's Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his - I'd bring them back and he'd ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he'd serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he'd have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.

Wrong Side Of Heaven - Five Finger Death Punch

Lae'zel: Vlaakith! I have wielded your fury as a blade, roared your wrath as a dragon! You promised ascension, yet I crawl among my own people, low as an asp's belly. I followed your path. What good, this heart of stone, for it to be shattered?

Bad Moon Rising - Satin Puppets/Nxghtshade

Jaheira: I have every reason to be cautious. I've traced people like you, people with parasites in their brains, all the way here from Baldur's Gate. We tracked them to this ancient village only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.

Goodbye - Ramsey

Karlach: Listen. You heard Dammon. There is no solution. It's Hell or bust. I choose bust.

Wicked Game - Boyce Avenue

Astarion: Look. I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you. Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.

Losing My Religion - BELLSAINT

Shadowheart: I... I can't believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me.

Battlefield - SVRCINA

Dame Aylin: Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune, mother of the so-called Nightsong. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!

O Death - Bobby Bass/Lauren Paley/Colm R. McGuiness

Ketheric Thorm: Join the army of the dead, True Soul. Witness Lord Myrkul's glory!

In The Wind - Lord Huron

Halsin: Oliver is helping Thaniel to recover. They both lie dormant, like trees awaiting spring. I would like to return here someday - see Thaniel and Oliver again, in my meditations, or perhaps in person, if the Oak Father wills it. I hope he does.

Flesh And Bone - Black Math

Wyll: He returned to an unsuspecting city and a wayward son with a smirking devil at his side. I tried to tell him the truth, but my mouth couldn't form the words. I led him to the battlefield, but Mizora had swept it clean. I showed him my stone eye, but he only turned away. After, he said only one word. "Go."

Nothing Is As It Seems - Hidden Citizens/Ruelle

The Emperor: Before you do anything, I am your ally.

Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds

Duke Ravenguard: Enver Gortash. The Council appoints you Archduke of Baldur's Gate.

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin

Lae'zel: Forsake one protocol and forsake Vlaakith. Forsate Vlaakith, and be the blood and meat which sates her dragons. If Voss speaks true, if ascension is a lie, if tadpole purification is a fairy tale, then I have not sinned against Vlaakith. She has sinned against me.

Broken Mirror - Trees of Eternity

Astarion: Back at the ritual, all I could see was the power on offer and the safety it promised. I was so blinded by it. Just as Cazador was. You saved me from myself and let me walk a new path where I can be free. Truly, honestly free.

Three - Sleeping At Last

Gale: I've work ahead of me before I'll feel myself truly redeemed of the damage I caused. But I intend to try.

Mind Games - Sickick

The Emperor: I studied you. Your motivations, your actions, your desires. I deduced the best way to align your goals with my own. I anticipated the challenge, and I anticipated your resistance. What I didn't anticipate was how much I would enjoy your company. Your mind.

Hamsters - King Missile

Minsc: I have no idea what any of that was about. But we shall simply - GAH! Boo, why do you gnaw at my soft parts? I am trying to... *urgent squeaking* Once again? In smaller words? *SQUEAK!* I see.

Soldier - Fleurie

Jaheira: You twine your life around the people you love. And when they are gone, you grow around their absence instead. Which is my sage way of saying I am in no danger of forgetting how my husband died. But I choose to remember how he lived.

I Come With Knives - IAMX

Orin: Did it think it could protect? Did it think it could save? Only the blades can offer salvation.

Never Look Away - Vienna Teng

Shadowheart: She's as much a part of who I am as Jenevelle. I can't just forget her, that's not what I do anymore. Besides, Shadowheart still suits me - even better than before, perhaps. You can't cast a shadow without some light.

Heroes - Mans Zelmerlow

Wyll: When I left the city, my father saw only a boy carrying the stench of the Hells. Now, he sees the man I made of myself.

Raphael's Final Act - Boris Slavov

Raphael: It is said that hope is a fine breakfast, but a poor supper. Well, the shadows grow long, and the hour is late. It's suppertime.

King Nothing - Metallica

Gortash: I'm not here for games. Hand me the stones, or face the black hand of Lord Bane.

Legends Never Die - Against The Current

Karlach: I'm dying. My heart feels like a live grenade - gonna blow any minute. If this is the end for me, let me be the motherfucker who saved the world.

Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

Narrator: You feel it - a sudden shift. The brain is weakening, its grasp of self slipping. This is your chance.

First Light - Hozier

Astarion: I can't say what the future holds for us, but I know we'll be facing it together. And we're going to have a lot of fun.